October 12th 1996

The next day we flew to Paris at one just like Angus had said. Paris seemed a little warmer than London, but really I couldn't tell. Our hotel was nicer than London too, but I wasn't used to such places. Anything in Europe looks nicer to me.

We found our floor and we each got separate rooms, except they put me with Angus. I have a feeling Malcolm had something to do with it. "Are you sure you don't mind sharing? I'll understand if you don't..." Angus said.

"It's alright, we're friends aren't we?" I smiled.

"Yeah," he agreed. "I can take the couch again, if you don't mind sharing the least I can do is give you the bed."

"Thank you," I said. The boys and I went to the first place for the tour to set up equipment. I helped stand things up and plug some things in but I didn't want to mess anything up or break anything so I only did what others told me. Cliff and Malcolm went to talk to some roadies, one of which was new. He was young, and supposedly recommended by another worker here.

"You're Mike Wanson, the new guy?" Malcolm asked him.

"Yeah, just moved here from Montana. You might know my brother, Jackson." He was from America like me.

"Oh yeah," Cliff said. Malcolm nodded.

"Good guy. He's settin' your standards, don't fuck up," he joked. Mike laughed.

"Don't plan to. Then again, Jackson was athletic at school, stronger, he was probably better than I could do."

"Probably," Malcolm joked again. "Well, you hang in there, we need your help here."

"Happy to," Mike smiled. He followed a few other roadies to set up amplifiers on the other side of the stage. He turned back one last time and caught a glimpse of me before he gave me a big smile. I nodded back to be polite, and he stared at me a while before continuing on his way.

Angus hooked up his guitar to the amp and got all the chords untangled. Roadies and lots of unpaid women were in the building helping the band for the first show. A new roadie who showed up a few days ago was following around some more experienced workers until Malcolm and Cliff stopped him to talk.

He came from America, Montana to be more specific. A previous worker, a hardass named Jackson, had mentioned him, to take his place after he left. Jackson was his older, much older brother and very hard working. Any show played on time was due to him. It'd take a lot to live up to his standards, even if Mike was related.

He watched Malcolm mess with him as he messed with his guitar. He was only joking, but sort of not. Malcolm didn't take crap, or slacking off when there was work to be done, and he made sure Mikey boy knew that. All in good fun of course.

It didn't help his case that he was only twenty six, and those were the years to have fun, and mess around. But these times were not for screwing up, especially with how big the band had gotten. Slacking off would be unprofessional. Jackson hadn't started working until he was forty six, one of the oldest people there. He knew there was work to be done, and he sure as hell did it. Problem with being forty six was you only had so many years you could work before age got to you. It wasn't long before Mike was stepping up to Jackson's plate.

Angus also happened to notice Mike smiling in a way, when you see something or someone you really like. And that smile was directed at Hannah. His Hannah.

No.

She wasn't his. She was definitely her own person, not to mention they were not and could not be together. But that look he gave her...He simply didn't like it.

Setting his guitar against the amp he walked over to the get together as Mike left. "It's always hard the first day," Cliff said to him and Malcolm.

"He'll get used to it," Angus said. "Carryin' amps ya' know, gets you workin' ya' know."

"You don't like him do you?" Malcolm asked. Angus' eyes widened. He hadn't done or said anything to imply such negative feelings.

"What makes you say that?"

"Don't think I didn't see that smile, and don't think for a damn second I didn't see you notice it. Comin' up here only confirmed my suspicians."

"Aw Ang, you're not still on that are ya'?" Cliff asked. "You've got a whole different life ahead of ya'."

"I know that. So what if I still-" He glanced around. "-have feelings?" Malcolm scoffed.

"I'll be outside with the loadin' truck." Malcolm left and Cliff simply laughed and went to the other side of the stage. Did he miss something?

A pair of drunk women came stumbling backstage, obviously returning from an unaware night of passion. They probably each thought they had a band member slung around their shoulder. They hadn't even finished playing yet. Two more songs on the encore then back to the hotel for the night. No time or patience for drunk groupies.

Groupies.

The word flowed through my mind. I'd been touring with these guys, one day mind you but still, and sleeping in the same hotel as them, even in the same room as Angus. Not like the workers knew that but surely someone on the streets had to have seen me with them. They surely thought of me as a groupie, and soon everyone else would too. I had no such business in that. These guys were close friends, no doubt about that. But I was not about to sleep with anyone. Not that kind of girl, even if I didn't have issues already.

"Hey, what's going on back here?"  a voice behind me said. I turned to see a young man maybe in his twenties smiling. That same man who smiled as he followed some roadies elsewhere.

"Not much. Some drunk casual sex, only the usual," I smiled.

"Hey, you're funny. I like that. So what's your name and how'd you come to work here?"

"Is this an investigation?"

"More like an introduction. Come on then," he urged politely.

"Hannah. I'm from Oregon and I actually don't work for the band."

"You're not a roadie?"

"No, but I've been a friend of the band since 1975 and since I lost my apartment in London they asked me to come on tour with them. Of course I said yes."

"Friends with the band huh? Wouldn't that make you-"

"No! No, I'm not at all like that," I dismissed.

"So, you're not like-sleeping with anyone or...?"

"No, no."

"Oh, what about back home, you have a boyfriend or something?"

"No I don't."  He smiled a bit. "But I guess 'back home' is a memory now."

"Oh yeah, how'd you lose your apartment anyway? If you don't mind me asking."

"Not at all. I couldn't pay the rent anymore, they kicked me out."

"...oh, that sucks."

"Yeah." We listened to the band backstage. They only had one more song left, For Those About to Rock of course.

"They're good."

"Really good," I agreed.

"Another question. You said you've known them since 1975?"

"Yes."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty five."

"So... you've known them since you were four years old?" My eyes widened. I couldn't tell him that, but I certainly wouldn't tell him the truth. So I gave him the answer just about everyone hates.

"It's complicted."

"Doesn't sound like it."

"Well it is."

"You know what I think?" He backed me up against the wall, putting his arms either side of me. "I think you got a little secret," he smiled. Now I was getting a smidge uncomfortable. I found the positon I was in to be rather suggestive, and he wouldn't leave until I told him my secret. Which I wouldn't do. "Come on, it's written all over your face," he said sticking his closer to mine. I didn't quite like the way he smelled too much. Like he didn't shower or use soap anyway. "You can tell me, I won't say a word." He closed his eyes and leaned his face toward mine.

"Miss Hannah?" a voice called, saving me from the moment. "Angus wants to see you."