Rhythm and Ray: A DJ’s Journey

[Chapter 248: Instant Messaging App]

On a sunny afternoon at a quiet beach near Palm Beach, Ryan lay back on a lounge chair with his hands behind his head, gazing at the distant coastline.

In the reflection of Ryan's sunglasses, he noticed a figure walking slowly from the ocean onto the shore. With fair skin illuminated by direct sunlight, the figure wore a blue bikini sprinkled with colorful patterns, resembling a mermaid emerging from a fantasy film.

Taylor, barefoot on the sand, hurried towards Ryan. When she reached him, she pulled off her goggles and swim cap, casually letting her hair down after loosening her ponytail. Instead of taking the vacant lounge chair next to him, she lay directly in Ryan's arms.

Soaking wet, Taylor fidgeted as Ryan grabbed a towel nearby to dry her off, making sure to touch every corner, while his hands playfully squeezed and caressed through the towel.

"You're so naughty," Taylor giggled, their longtime relationship allowing for such laxity. She picked up a coconut with a straw from a table beside them and took a few sips.

"I tried a few times before but no luck. Later, let's go for tandem surfing," Taylor suggested, glancing at the surfboard standing upright in the sand.

Ryan nodded; he had been on the shore a bit earlier than Taylor. She rested her head against his chest, taking a brief break.

"You were right yesterday. I should focus on the Country Music Association, but there's no need to cause a rift with the Academy this year since many there are still connected to the record label. Those people are Grammy judges," Taylor contemplated.

Whether it was ACM or CMA, these were merely awards in the realm of country music, lacking the prestige and influence of the Grammys.

Ryan pondered for a moment, recalling that Taylor's album, Fearless, directly competed with I Am... Sasha Fierce, the Black Eyed Peas' The E.N.D., and Lady Gaga's The Fame. All three were classics and had a significant chance of winning Album of the Year.

Furthermore, none of them, including Beyonce, had previously won it.

"I wouldn't hope for Album of the Year, but I aim to hold on to a few awards in the country category," Taylor said thoughtfully.

"I'll contact Louis ahead of time; he knows quite a lot of members. I'll rally all those electronic music folks to back you up," Ryan replied, choosing to focus resources entirely on Taylor for next year's Grammys.

Implementing that wouldn't be hard; he could organize some "Electronic Music Seminars," inviting the right crowd to a serene vacation spot with plenty of fun and food while also arranging for Mary to send some women to assist in PR for Taylor. They still had over six months before the Grammys, so there was plenty of time.

"Then we need to get started on preparations soon," Taylor nodded in agreement.

As Ryan detailed his plans, Taylor smiled and began to dream, "We could take turns running the show one day."

Ryan chuckled softly; that seemed unlikely given the current state of his capabilities. Public relations were only a supplementary role; quality work would still be the main driving force.

"Let's not talk about that; we came here to relax," Taylor suggested, shifting her body to face Ryan, her waist twisting gently against him.

Clearly, she was feeling playful.

"I haven't seen you in a week," she glanced around, ensuring no one was in a several hundred-meter radius aside from the bodyguard standing far away, well out of sight.

After spending so much time together, Taylor was becoming more comfortable around Ryan, relaxing into moments she previously resisted and even initiating some things, like the current playful scenario.

With Taylor proposing the intimate moment, Ryan certainly wouldn't refuse. Without hesitation, she leaned down, tilting her head.

When he sensed the moment was right, Ryan reached down and deftly untied the strings of her bikini.

"Ryan~~" Taylor let out a sweet exclamation as her body sank down.

Ryan hardly needed to move; Taylor seemed to do all the work herself.

Before long, Taylor abruptly shrank back into Ryan's embrace. "Someone's coming!" she whispered, startled.

Ryan looked back to see a middle-aged woman in a swimsuit approaching with three children, likely residents from nearby.

Ryan quickly grabbed the towel he had used earlier to dry Taylor, wrapping it around her waist.

Taylor stole a glance at the woman, then turned to Ryan, asking, "Do you want to continue?"

Her voice tinged with nervousness but also anticipation, clearly aware of what she had chosen.

And just like that, Taylor nudged her movements slightly, the towel swayed rhythmically.

The woman only caught a glimpse from afar, her cheeks flushing, hastily pulling her kids away while stealing looks back at Ryan and Taylor.

Youth nowadays seemed to have no shame, the woman criticized in her mind, yet her gaze lingered on Ryan's toned physique.

"That woman keeps staring at us," Ryan remarked with a smile towards Taylor.

After taking a moment to catch their breath, Taylor regained her composure.

With one arm around her waist and the other running through her golden locks, Ryan gently caressed her head.

"Want to keep going?" he asked, leaning close to her ear.

"You're so bad," Taylor opened her eyes and teased him.

"Do you want it or not?"

"Please stop asking," Taylor responded shyly.

"Then that means you don't," Ryan teased further.

Taylor shook her head in defiance.

"What do you mean, then?" Ryan flirted.

Taylor opened her mouth, forming a 'yes' shape.

"I can't hear you."

"Yes! I want to!" Taylor pinched Ryan's arm.

...

Afterwards, Ryan and Taylor sunbathed for a while before tandem surfing, enjoying their time on the beach until evening, then headed home for dinner.

The staff had already prepared a lavish meal, with a few main dishes Ryan personally cooked. He only ever did this when Taylor was home.

The evening's special main dishes utilized unique cooking methods.

As Taylor looked over the steaming plates, she struggled to pierce through some tender fish with her fork before taking a bite.

"How did you make this? It's so tender," she exclaimed with delight.

"Steam-cooked," Ryan explained.

"Ah, now that makes sense," Taylor said, marveling at the uniqueness of it.

At that moment, Ryan's phone suddenly rang. He glanced at it without answering, then set it back down.

"Who called?" Taylor asked, taking another bite of fish.

"Just something from the management company. Let's eat first, then try that."

A moment later, the phone rang again.

"You should take it; there must be something urgent," Taylor suggested with concern.

...

Ryan picked up the phone, "What's going on?"

"Did I interrupt something?" Ivanka's voice came from the other end.

"I'm having dinner with Taylor. What's up?" Ryan inquired.

"It's nothing major; there's a supplier here, an LED screen vendor wanting to meet you. I didn't know your plans for the next couple of days, so I called to check," Ivanka explained patiently.

Ryan felt irritated. "You could have easily asked me during business hours tomorrow."

"My apologies~"

"Tomorrow afternoon at... four?" Ryan offered a specific time.

"Sounds good," Ivanka chuckled awkwardly before hanging up.

...

Ryan placed his phone down, shaking his head. "Spoiled rich girls just don't know how to think of others," he remarked to Taylor, detailing the purpose of the call.

"How is she doing at work?" Taylor asked, recalling Ivanka.

"Sort of average. She's somewhat usable. You know, her dad is involved in the Spirit Club project, sending her over to gain some experience. I'm not sure how to reject that," Ryan chuckled.

"That's unavoidable, but with her looks... it does make things a bit easier," Taylor nodded.

"True enough. Putting aside her work capabilities, just her face gives her an edge in negotiations," Ryan acknowledged.

"Let's not talk about her; I need to meet the LED supplier tomorrow afternoon," Ryan stated firmly.

"That's the one we have used before, right? Since they have decent product quality, why not look into an investment? What do you think?" Taylor inquired, recalling that she had seen their work on her tour's big screen installation.

"If it's just a pure investment, I don't see a problem with that," Ryan admitted, realizing that every Spirit Club would require screens, thus promising a large supply.

"Other than traditional industries, the internet sector is booming. My dad has been nudging me to pay attention to news on that front," Taylor shared.

"Those kinds of investments require substantial capital and can be quite complicated," Ryan warned cautiously.

"On another note, the tech team is about to launch a mobile app coded in Java aimed at letting fans access forums, including chat options, almost like a messaging app," Ryan continued, excited about a project he had secured funding for.

"Sounds like WhatsApp," Taylor mused.

Seeing Ryan's bemused expression, she elaborated, "It's a chatting tool on phones..."

...

After dinner, Taylor joined Ryan for a workout. He had transformed a room into his personal gym, equipped with various fitness machines. Although Taylor wasn't used to exercising, she let Ryan persuade her onto the treadmill but soon hopped off, panting, noticeably out of breath compared to Ivanka.

Next, she flopped onto Ryan's back as he did push-ups.

"82, 83, 84!" Taylor crossed her legs and began counting, handing Ryan a towel and a sports drink once he finished.

...

The next day at noon, Ryan and Taylor appeared at Bad Room together.

Taylor stood at the office window, observing busy construction workers below. Last time she visited, the ground was just starting to be excavated; now, a brand-new winding road was completed, with commercial buildings sprouting up along either side.

"Eventually, there's going to be a large swimming pool as part of the daytime club, surrounded by shops. The tallest building will be a couples' hotel with an estimated 300 to 400 rooms, with plans for expansions. Aside from this hotel, which I'm directly investing in, everything else will be leased or sold, potentially tripling or quadrupling what I put in," Ryan explained his future plans.

"Have you come up with a name?" she blinked those big eyes, hopeful for the future.

"I initially thought about using your name, but calling it 'Swiftly' seems a bit off," Ryan teased.

After all, no man wanted to be labeled as speedy.

"That does sound odd. Let's see... how about 'Serene'?" Taylor pondered.

"I like the sound of that," Ryan nodded.

It certainly had a couples' charm.

...

They continued their conversation until Nathan Chapman arrived. Together they headed to the recording studio, where Taylor anticipated fewer people but found it packed with Ryan's artists.

"Are you all planning to use the studio?" Taylor asked, surprised.

"No, they just wanted to see you record," Ryan shrugged casually.

The professionals set up equipment with ease. Taylor and Nathan frequently collaborated, making everything feel familiar.

Ryan noticed Avicii in the crowd and called him over.

"Have you come up with any ideas for new music?" Ryan inquired with concern.

While not his top picks, he had a good feeling about the boy from Stockholm.

Avicii looked a bit lost, shaking his head.

"Alright then," Ryan patted him on the shoulder, sensing that he had not found his groove the past few weeks.

Before long, afternoon turned to dusk, and Ryan watched through the glass as Taylor recorded before turning to leave for the management company.

...

At the management company, Ivanka sat behind her desk, evidently distracted, fiddling with the ends of her hair, glancing down at her clothes, and occasionally checking herself in the mirror.

"Ryan's here!" her secretary whispered, sticking her head in. Ivanka had instructed her to notify her immediately upon his arrival.

Ivanka stood up, eagerly heading out to meet him...

*****

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