Theme of Hearts

an excerpt



February, 2011


"Listen up, Los Angeles! We're gonna slow things down a bit since we all know what day it is, don't we?"

Gage Galeano paused, dramatically cupping his hand to his ear as he grinned out into the crowd. He pulled the strap of his guitar over his head and handed the whole thing to the guitar tech that had magically appeared beside him. Then, sneaking a grin and a wink at Rylan who stood smirking back off to the side, he positioned a hand on his hip, turned, and flung an arm into the air.

"Come on, Los Angeles! I'm sure I've heard how romantic you California kids are! What. Day. Is. It?"

Voices of all tones and pitches, men and women, boys and girls shouted back at the singer while Gage tugged on both his ears, screwing up his face in a look of I-can't-hear-you, while he purposely ignored the V-word the crowd yelled at him. He grabbed the microphone and sprinted effortlessly across the stage, holding it out to a little girl in the front row.

"Hello, sweetheart. It's a little past your bedtime isn't it? Do you know what day it is, love?"

The young girl shook her head, thrust a little red card at him, then hid her face against the woman beside her. Gage reached way out, holding on to one of his bodyguards for support, and patted her little blonde head.

"See that big scary guy over there by the stairs? His name is Chase and he's not half as scary as he looks. If you talk to him after the show, he'll give you a fabulous t-shirt that you can show off to all your friends tomorrow. Would you like that?" he whispered, holding the mic away from his mouth.

The girl nodded her head and looked at Gage with big shining blue eyes. Gage blew her a kiss and straightened up, skipping back to his original spot on the stage.

"Hey Rylan!" he bellowed into the microphone, handing the little card to one of the stage hands. He turned his back to the crowd, languidly stretching out a long leg, then lowering his stance and wiggling his ass to the ecstatic approval of the crowd. Oh yeah, he loved the attention.

Rylan Rivers sauntered over to his own mic. "Yes, Gage?"

"Do you know what day it is today?" Gage held Rylan's gaze for no more than a couple of seconds--just long enough to convey a tiny message of "Can't wait to fuck you into the mattress later" with his eyes.

Rylan smirked again, then shrugged and tilted his head to the audience, face pulled into a goofy, confused look, lips pouting out a question. "Why no, Gage. What day is it?"

"Well…" Gage turned back to the audience. "I've asked them but they don't seem to be cooperating with me. Maybe we should just cancel the rest of the show, whatdaya think?"

Letting out a long drawn-out "ohhhh" of shock, Rylan raised his hands over his head and shouted at the crowd. "Well we don't want that, do we Los Angeles?"

The audience replied in a riotous round of "No's."

"All right! Then everyone repeat after me. Are you ready?" Rylan moved away from his mic, coming to stand beside Gage and wrapping an arm loosely around his neck, heads tilted together, sweat mingling and mixing. "What day is it, Mr. Gage?"

The crowd responded as one big voice this time. "What day is it, Mr. Gage?"

Gage opened his mouth wide, pulling away from Rylan and holding the mic very close to his mouth, platinum blond spikes sparkling beneath the hot spotlights. "It's frigging Monday! Don't you people have calendars in California?"

Rylan groaned in sync with audience, giving Gage a little shove before turning to head back to his spot. He let out a squeaky gasp when the singer's hand slapped against his ass and the crowd screamed for more.

"So if it's only Monday, do you think we need to pull our romantic side out of our asses, Los Angeles?"

A resounding "No!" filled the auditorium.

"Then what the fuck are we doing? Let's play some rock and roll, people!"

Rylan shook his head then threw himself into the high-energy intro of "Killer Kult". Gage shot Rylan one last wink, then bounced up and down on his toes, and started belting out the lyrics.

Another successful show.