"No, you were the only one on that bench," Angus said. After we were all home safe and sound I asked him about Monica. She just disappeared, not a trace left. Was she even real?

"I stayed at her house yesterday, she was just there," I explained. "Angus? You don't think I'm crazy." He didn't answer for the longest time. "Do you?"

Bon sat on the other side of Hannah on the couch. Angus stared at him as Hannah told him about a woman she met that just vanished. "Angus?" He looked at her.

"Yes I do. But I believe your story," he smiled at her.

It was finally March, the day we resumed the Ballbreaker tour. Ellen and Linda had left to go to Holland a while back and we, Angus and I, headed to the airport.

The rest of the band met us there and we flew to South America together. "You okay kid? I heard about what happened last month, I mean we all did but..." Phil asked.

"Yeah, I'm alright. I talked to someone and she helped me sort things out."

"Good. And you and Ellen on good terms?"

"Yeah. Took a while but we're good." The plane landed in Argentina about 2 pm on March 10th. We stayed in some hotel and Angus and I both sadly agreed it would be best to have our own rooms. Slowly but surely, we were letting each other go.

It was lonely without him. I sang Greasy Spoon to myself making me laugh. But even that didn't completely help. Didn't have anyone to laugh with, to sit with. Of course I could go visit the guys, but they were getting pretty busy again. Not too busy for me, but you know.

Yeah, I didn't either.

My room was sort of dark, darker than it should have been. The light on the ceiling was burning out, and soon I'd be left in the dark. The price to get it fixed was enough to buy the hotel, so I stupidly decided to fix it myself. I did have a knack for fixing things, how hard could a light be?

The couch was moved under the light fixture so I could reach it. The bulb was encased in a dome that was bolted to the ceiling. My fingernails weren't strong enough to pry it off, so I found a butter knife and weaseled my way in. One bolt clattered to the floor, and I placed one hand on the dome to keep it from crashing down. It dropped into my palm as the second bolt loosened itself. "Alright, let's get down to business, to defeat the huns-whoops," I said dropping the knife on the floor. "Hope I didn't need that." The bulb was brighter without the case, but not bright enough.

The rain poured outside and I hoped there wasn't going to be a lightning storm. Getting cooked wasn't on my agenda. My door was knocked on. I jumped off the couch and ran to answer it. "Hey Angus."

"Hey. You okay over here?" I stood between the door and the frame hiding the room from his view.

"Yeah I'm great."

"What's behind you?" he smiled slyly.

"Nothing."

"Can I see?"

"There's nothing to see." He tried to push his way in but I pushed him right back out and closed the door behind me. "There's nothing in there."

"Uh huh. So I dropped by to tell you we're going to rehearsal today, don't know if you're interested." I was, a lot. I turned to look at the door, then back at Angus. It was best to work on my project while they were gone, this was my chance.

"You know I'd love to-but just this once I'll have to decline."

"You're not going?" I shook my head. "Is it because you're hiding something in your room?"

"No. Like I said nothing in there. I'm just busy-doin' stuff." Angus nodded.

"Alright, I'll let everyone know." He started walking back to his room and I turned to open my door. It was locked. And my key...was on the table. My hand jiggled the handle hoping it'd open. "You okay?" Angus asked.

"Yeah just uh-making sure my door was locked."

"You goin' somewhere?"

"No."

"Then-why would you..."

"Come on Angus, car's waitin'," Brian said.

"I'm comin'!" He followed Brian then called out to me. "I'll be spending the evening with you!"

"Sounds good!" I smiled. They left and I continued to assault the door. "Great." I'd have to crawl through the window around the back. Which meant walking all the way to the other side of the terrace.

The band exited the building without seeing me and I ended up at the other side of my room. The window was a few inches above the floor with a sliding screen. I removed the screen and wedged myself through the space.

An Argentinian woman walked by and stared at me. I glanced at her. "Hey." She didn't answer and continued on. Once inside, I climbed back on the couch to investigate the light. The rain was pouring now and was getting all over the terrace. You see, it was an open hotel, the hallways were technically outside. I wish I knew the wind blew the rain through my open window. Drops of water streamed into the electrical outlet.

The light bulb was hanging by some wires that came from the ceiling. The ceiling would have to be opened in order to check the wires. The rain made the wood soft enough to cut through with the butter knife. So that's what I did.

Pieces of plaster coated the couch. I cut enough away so I could access the wires. One thick red wire was hooked to the bulb and traveled a distance through the ceiling. Some green wires were loose so I pushed them back into place.

While I rearranged the green wires, the butter knife in my hand had made contact with the thick red one. A little nick had appeared and before I knew it, the power went out. Total darkness. Sirens blared outside and I carefully made my way to the window.

Cops came in cars and a couple on horses. Right at the entrance to the hotel. They came in and I wondered what horrendous crime someone committed. Then loud knocking came at my door but before I could answer, three cops with flashlights had me surrounded.

"¡Esta aqui!" one of them shouted. I was dragged out to the hallway and saw the whole building's power had gone out. But why on earth would they call the cops? One man pulled my arm a little bit too rough.

"Watch it Buster," I muttered. He glanced at me and called me a 'fabricante de problemas'. How rude. Everyone in the hotel was watching me get suddenly taken away by these brutes. What would the band do when they got back? Break me out? Leave me here? I was a convict, and I had some time to serve in the local jail. They don't want anything to do with criminal scum like me. Then again, what the hell did I even do?

The light of the jail was refreshing to see. My bottom was sore because their car broke down and I had to ride a horse to get here. A big man was standing by the front desk and another man plopped me down in a chair. "Gracias," I muttered rubbing my wrist. The cops who took me to the jail talked in Spanish the whole time and finally I got taken to a cell.

The walls were snow white, and a slate colored bench sat against them. I was forcefully shoved in and the bars closed behind me. "Can I at least get a phone call?" I asked. The guard didn't answer. His squeaky shoes echoed down the hall, leaving a trail of mud behind him.

"You don't get phone calls in here," a raspy voice said behind me. I turned around to see my new roommate. A black haired woman smoking a cigar sat on the bench. "Too merciful. Not that the phones work anyway." I coughed on her smoke. "What're you in for princess?"

"I don't-know," I sputtered. "They wouldn't tell me."

"'Cause they can't speak English," she answered. "Now me, I know what I'm in for. I know what I did. Larceny in a convenience store. Gasoline, chips, and my smokes. Took everything from me. 'Cept this." She held up her burning cigar. "My own personal smoking gun."

"That's, lovely." She laughed at my coughing.

"So you must have done something," she inquired. "Good girl like you in a place like this?"

"I'm not a good girl."

"Oh please princess, I can spot your kind a mile away. 'Oh please mister, I'd be ever so thankful if you'd help me, oh please!'" she imitated a naïve girl. I turned away from her, ignoring her. My hands clasped the cold iron bars.

"I hope Angus knows where to find me," I whispered.

"Who's he, your boyfriend?" the woman asked.

"No he's not."

"If there's one thing I can spot quicker than a good girl, it's a liar."

"I'm not lying. We're not together. We-never really were," I trailed off. The woman set her cigar on her ashtray.

"Since we're gonna be here a while, may as well introduce ourselves. You first."

"Me?"

"Yes you."

"My name is Hannah..." I stared at her as she spit in her hands and rubbed her hair. Then I realized I should have some manners. "And you are?"

"Name's Donna. It's not my real name, don't ask me what that is. Not important."

"How long have you been in here?"

"Long enough to know my family ain't comin'. But I should expect as much. I fight for my own life. I got myself into this, I'm gonna get myself out. I don't need no family."

"Everybody needs a family."

"'Cept me. I trusted too much. This is what I get." She coughed up some smoke. "So tell me more about this boyfriend of yours."

"He's not my boyfriend!"

"Shuttup, course he is. He a good guy?"

"Yeah...he's a problem child, but in a good way."

"Reminds me of my first man. Ray Stevenson. Oh, he could make a good girl steal," she smiled. "That's where I got started. He and his crew of drag racers would sneak up on homes at nights. Take what they could, drift on out. I joined 'em one night, got caught and sent to a holding cell. Told myself I was done with him. Next night he calls me, 'I promise baby, don't leave me, next time baby, I promise'. All meant nothing. But I was young and in love. Stupid and in love. One night I never saw him again. Started my own business. Took whatever I got my hands on. Now I'm in here." She gestured around her. "So what about your man?"

"Well-uh, he's in a band."

"You don't say?" she chuckled. "And what're they called?"

"AC/DC."

"Never heard of 'em."

"You're kidding."

"When you're picking up supplies you ain't got time for music. They famous?"

"Very. They've played here a few times."

"In jail?"

"No, Argentina."

"Oh. No wonder I haven't seen 'em, I've been in here this whole time. That is, if I weren't on the road."

"Doesn't sound very fun."

"Life isn't fun princess, but when it's all you got-" She exhaled slowly. She fiddled with her dreadlocks. "He a singer?"

"What?"

"Your man a singer?"

"No, guitarist."

"So he's good with his fingers," she smiled.

"Uh, I don't know."

"You never found out?"

"No, and I don't plan to."

"You mean you ain't ever been with your man like that? I don't believe it," she laughed. "Baby girl, you better grab him fast 'fore he moves on."

"He already has, and I don't want to 'be with him' that way. Relationships aren't always about the sex."

"To each his own," she told herself. "I could go for a good time right now. And a couple of smokes." She picked up her cigar again. I'd sit on the bench next to her but the smoke was too strong.

Angus, where are you?