Thread: The Filmmaker and the Musician (Raivh and Talin)

This was a terrible predicament if hed ever known one, and Bryant Danes knew more about being between a rock and a hard place than most. What he really wanted to do was leave, or at least escape and break his phone so that the messages that kept popping up wouldnt be read. It was bad enough his naked ass was on the screen, what made matters worse was the nude young woman lying under him. He couldnt remember having sex with Joslyn, and he couldnt remember if theyd used a condom. The sudden twist of his gut told him it was unlikely. He tensed when she snagged his phone from its place of concealment. Maybe he needed to get a padlocking pocket. Karli he began slowly, cautiously. Holding his breath, he released it when she lowered it to her stomach, feeling as though hed somehow evaded the inevitable. But no. Every muscle in his body wound tight again the moment his cell ringer sounded again. He blanched at her exclaimed proclamation, aware that it wasnt a prayer it was a curse on him. Karli, I didn Cut off by a sharp slap to the face, he felt his jaw shift, and knew there would be a bruise there the following day, something he undoubtedly deserved. Karli, stop! Karli, wait! No matter how loud he shouted, projecting his voice throughout the house, she didnt listen, just continued pushing him toward the closed door. The pain in her voice was enough to make him want to hit himself, or let her father strike him. Still, he couldnt help the frustration that began to well up in him. She wasnt willing to listen to anything he had to say. Stumbling backwards, out the door, he ducked when his phone came flying out after him and shattered on the cement drive. It wasnt his fault hed been lured into the bed of a temptress he was drunk and horny, she was there. I guess you dont want me coming back? he bellowed up toward her window, aware that she would hear him. I guess she was worth it! Because you sure as hell wouldnt have been! It was a lie he wanted her most of all. Enraged and unsure where to direct his wrath, he decided to aim for the passenger door of his car, and kicked it hard, leaving a dent. Fuck! You divorced your wife! Brittany exclaimed. This was news to her. Things between Bryant and Joslyn had seemed tense when shed met him, but Bryant was a good guy. He was a very good guy, a handsome, sweet man with a bit of a naughty streak, but a huge heart. She didnt understand why he would give up his marriage. Then again, maybe she did. She recalled the story Bryant had shared with her about when his nasty break up with his girlfriend back in high school, about how Joslyn had wound up pregnant after that night. And Bryant, feeling obligated, had married Joslyn. Yep, signed all the paperwork. I have no ties to that woman, and thats how Id like it to stay, he muttered, adjusting the focus on one of his cameras. There had to be a scratch on the lens. It was only fuzzy in one part. Damn it. Brittany, I need you to order another lens for this one. Its shot to shit as it is right now. I cant film anything with that. Returning the camera to its bag, he zipped it up and placed it on the counter Brittany was sitting behind. The young woman was stunning, an actress hoping to make it to Broadway. Her red hair was befitting and framed her slender face, and her green eyes were a brighter shade than Bryants own. She was quite literally flawless, though she swore she had a few scars and a tattoo he would never see. Have you checked your calendar lately? You have an appointment tomorrow, last name Peyton, Brittany commented, scribbling down a note to remind herself to have the part ordered so it would be in by late next week. Its at 500, so dont forget and wander out of here just because your stomach is growling, Bryant. Bryant smirked. Dont worry, I wont. Id rather have the money than a burger in my stomach. Ill see you tomorrow, Brit. Lock up before you leave! Mmhm! . Shit! He was running late. This time, it wasnt his fault. Brittany wasnt going to chew his ass out for this one. It was all on Nick. She could beat him later. Arm in a sling, swollen, purple, and broken, his cell phone in the toilet back at home every bit of it was because of Nick. Shoving through the doors into his studio, Bryant rushed past Brittany and a group of people to get his gear together. It was 545. His stomach was eating him alive, and his mind was not on the task at hand, but scattered everywhere else hed been that day. Thumping his busted arm against a door frame, Bryant let out a sound that could only be described as a yelp. The doctor couldnt put a cast on it until the swelling went down. Well, the swelling sure as hell wasnt going to go down any time soon, not if he kept running into things. Bryant! Brittany hissed, her eyebrows furrowed and her green eyes locked on the sling barely keeping his arm immobilized. Send them in! he shot over his shoulder, working with one hand to open various bags, set up a tripod and camera. Brittany! I need help with lights! One hand wasnt going to cut it. A sheen of sweat shimmered on his forehead as he scrambled around in the back of the studio. When he looked up, he realized that the lighting was already set up. Oh.