Crickets chirped as the shadows took over. I finally finished writing down everything that had happened to me so far, from my journey here, down to details about the seventies themselves. I smoothed out the crumpled flyers I had collected while I was here and placed them in the notebook as keepsake memories. My water bottle was empty and I threw it away. After using the public bathroom again and staying far away from the nasty smelling stall that was only getting worse with heat and time, I clutched my book under my arm and headed towards The Python. 

Action swarmed the place. There was another man out front checking IDs and pulling open the rope. I had no idea AC/DC ever played at such a swanky joint. People were lined up getting tickets from the stand just like yesterday and it looked like the price had increased. I was sure I didn't have enough for another ticket and I didn't have an ID. And in case you haven't noticed, I don't look my age. 

Bon's note told me to go around to the back where the buses were and somebody would let me in. Being as casual as I could be, I sauntered around to the back of the building where streetlights were scarce and my nerves were on high. The buses were there as promised. A group of men were passing a joint around and laughing while another group of young women hung out by the door. 

I couldn't believe it. My people.

Real, authentic, seventies groupies! 

They were all dolled up in their finest clothes and makeup. I looked down at myself and felt ashamed. Same outfit as last night, unacceptable. Most of the women were a little on the tall side and I considered standing on my toes, hoping I wouldn't lose my balance. No, that'd look silly. And why try so hard? You're already in good with the band. 

Right?

The group of women didn't seem to be with each other so much as just happened to find each other at the same place. A couple of them talked with each other while a few others kept to themselves. I would be keeping to myself. With my pens and notebook I went to stand by them, carefully avoiding too much cigarette smoke. This would make great material for my story. I flipped the book open to an empty page and started writing. The other groupies didn't seem to mind, or they just didn't notice. Maybe I wasn't good enough competition...

I started getting antsy. The show might be starting soon! And so far not one person had come out the backdoor looking for me. Actually, no one came out the door at all. Would we be standing here for the entire show? Only let inside when the band finished? How could I be a proper music journalist when all I could write about was the band's bedside manner?

The night offered cool relief from the hot sun of the day. My bare legs felt a cool breeze and my hair whipped around my face. It was in need of a good washing. I needed a shower. But whose shower would I use? I still didn't have any place to stay tonight and by the looks of things, I wouldn't get one. 

Finally the back door opened and a man stepped out. I didn't have a clue who he was. He looked at us women. "You all here to see the band?" They affirmed that they were and I played along. My chance! Ha! Suddenly I was afraid the man would take one look at my rough exterior and send me away. But we were all allowed inside and the door swung shut behind us. 

Now this was a backstage party. 

There were coolers of beer in every direction. It was like a huge party complete with joints and boys and potato chips. A little loud for my taste but not any worse than the concert yesterday that left my ears ringing. A bit stuffier, though. 

Once again, no sign of the band anywhere. There was a restricted area where I guessed some showers were. Possibly in there? I certainly wasn't about to go snooping. Everyone sort of spread out in the room, standing or grabbing a chair. I sat down and opened my notebook, jotting down some quick details. 

"Ah, there you are," a voice said above me. I looked up to see Bon holding another drink in his hand, his hair a crazy mess. I was starting to think he just didn't own any shirts. Again I almost started crying at the sight of him. Not only did I have limited time in the past (probably), but I had limited time with Bon. After this I'd probably never see him again. And there he stood with his childlike grin and sparkling eyes. The real mischief man. "Writin' a lot, I hope?"

I flipped through the pages I had filled so far. Not a lot, but plenty for one day. Bon nodded approvingly. "Most of it is about Australia," I said. "But I've got some stuff about you too."

"Good, might read it sometime," he winked. I grinned. "You got in through there?" he pointed toward the door. I nodded. "That's the door the party goes through. Band," he pointed at himself. "Groupies," he pointed at me. "Dealers too, sometimes." He drank a bit. I tried to pretend like I knew all about that. Dealers? Psh. Of course I've met my fair share of them. I was all about the rock and roll scene. Sex, drugs, and rock and roll, right? Bon narrowed his eyes at me. "You don't mess with drugs, do ya'?"

"No," I admitted. Unless you counted popping pills for cramps or allergies...

He smiled. "I didn't think ya' did. That's alright, jus' tell 'em to bug off, ya' know?" That's easy for you to say, Mr. Man... "They're not usually too persistent...most of the time."

Lovely.

"Listen, I've got some things to take care of so I'll be gone for a bit, yeah?" he asked. "Make yourself at home, have a snack, have a drink. There's water an' Coke over there since ya' don't like booze." He smiled. "Make some friends, open up!" With a wink of his eye he left the room. 

Making friends was not my forte. 

I wasn't exactly what you'd call "friendly". Not that I was mean or bitchy or anything. But I didn't bend over backwards to be nice either. Not something I loved about myself but I did shit to change it. I scribbled more notes down and kept an eye out for any other band members. Just the road crew and groupies. 

Would joining the road crew be a step up from groupies? Road crew gets paid. Groupies get...well, they pay for it, let's leave it at that. I was getting a bit thirsty again so I stood up to look for a drink of water. 

"Have as much as you want," a man said carrying two guitar cases under his arms. "Most people here want the harder stuff, hardly anybody's touched the water." I smiled politely and cracked the bottle open. It wasn't the coldest anymore but it still tasted good. The man set his things down and took a good look at me. "Have I seen you somewhere?" he asked. "Are you one of the regulars?"

"Sort of," I shrugged. I had been around once before, hadn't I? He wiped the sweat from his brow. 

"You look familiar. Must be one of those faces, I guess." I nodded. I wasn't sure whether to leave or keep standing there. It looked like he wasn't going anywhere. "Most of the ladies here only come for a few shows, a few of them are at every single one." 

"I'm new," I said. His face lit up.

"Great, good to see a new face around here. Things get drab on the road, ya' know? See the same old faces every night." That's not all you see, is it, sir? "What's your name?"

I seriously considered giving out a fake name again. Maybe I trusted Bon and the band with my real name but I didn't know this man. Surely the group only hired the best? The most honest and hardworking, trustworthy fellows a band could ask for?

I quickly blurted put the first thing that came to mind. "Gemini," I said, hoping it didn't sound stupid. The man looked at me with curiosity. 

"Gemini," he repeated. "That your sign?"

"...No," I said. I couldn't really go around with the name "Cancer", could I?

"You...have a twin?" he asked. 

"No," I said with a smile. He stared at me a moment before shaking his head.

"Interesting name," he said giving me what he thought was a flirty smile. I took a step backward. "That one..." He pointed to a tall young woman wearing high heels making her bump heads with the cobwebs. "Her name is Shooting Star. Supposedly named herself after Sable Starr, you know who that is?" I nodded. "And...her." He pointed at another woman with earrings for days. "That's Paradise. Know why she's called Paradise?"

I shuddered at the thought. Was my body language not enough for this guy? I almost wished I had taken my ace pin with me. Not that they'd know what it meant. Or believed existed. What did this man think he would gain by name dropping?

I shook my head. "Guess the name speaks for itself," he chuckled. "Anyway, Gemini's a new one, never heard that one before." Splendid, I'll be an original down at the race track. "Met the band yet?"

"Just Bon," I said. He smiled knowingly. 

"Should have known. He's always ahead of everyone when it comes to meeting new people." Right then I wished Bon were there to whisk me away from this discomfort. But I could handle myself, right? I wasn't some tiny, timid woman who was the grand pooh-bah of social ineptitude. I didn't need someone else to save me!

Except that I was...

"Where is Bon, anyway?" I asked getting the conversation off of sex. The man who still hadn't told me his name looked around the room. 

"Dunno, getting laid, maybe." I rolled my eyes. This had to be a joke, this couldn't be what was on people's minds every minute of every day. It was a joke I wasn't in on. "You can talk to me in the meantime," he said smiling. "You're American?" 

"Yes," I said drinking more water. Maybe if I drank enough I could excuse myself to use the restroom. But if his ass thought he was going to follow me...

"Neat, I've got a lot of American friends." I nodded again, looking around the room for an escape. I had to have whatever wits I possessed about me. I wouldn't leave by force yet. I had to outfox him. "How old are you?"

A little light bulb went off in my head. Perhaps this would scare him off.

"Fifteen," I mumbled, pretending I didn't want anyone else to hear. His smile disappeared, replaced by questioning. No one likes a teenage jailbait, right? I waited expectantly for his response. 

"Serious?" he asked and I nodded. "No, you're not," he said, the smile returning. "Nah, I don't believe that for a second. You would have been carded at the door."

"I came in through the backdoor," I said. The smile fell again as he followed where I pointed. Us groupies weren't carded at all when we came in. It appeared the man didn't know what to say so I took my belongings with me back to the chair I was sitting in. He didn't follow me. Without missing a beat I opened my notebook and scribbled furiously. 

When I looked back up I saw him talking to Malcolm. Right as I looked at them...they both looked at me.

Why did I suddenly feel the need to melt into the floor?

Malcolm Mitchell Young...my favorite member of the band and guitarist...was about to heave me over his shoulder...and throw me out on the street. Don't let his size fool you, the man is a beast. I quickly averted my gaze and pretended to write something really important. 

Look on the bright side. If he does throw you out for being fifteen, at least you know what his morals are. I'd go out with a salute. 

Neither one of them made any move toward me and I counted my last minutes of freedom. Any second now...

"Still sittin' there?" Bon asked looming over me. I looked up to see him smiling. He tapped my head with his finger. "I coulda sworn I told ya' to mingle."

"I did," I confessed.

"Did ya'? Who?"

I pointed at the man with my pen. Bon turned to look at him and waved him over. I slid further down my seat. The man walked uneasily toward us. "Hey, Bon."

"Martin," Bon said. "Met my friend, have you?"

"Yeah, I guess you could say that..." He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Gemini," he said waving at me.

Bon looked at me. Then looked at Martin. Then looked back at me. I gave him my best and most subtle wink. "Oh, right! Gemini!" Bon said snapping his fingers. "Slipped my mind." He gave me an obvious wink in return. I looked over to see Malcolm whispering something to Angus. Be still my beating heart, two Youngs in one room. Angus looked over at me a few times and crossed his arms. 

Great. Now he knew my "real" age. Like he was one to talk.

I looked back to see Bon looking at me expectantly. "Huh?" I asked. 

"I was jus' askin' how your day went," he said sweetly. Martin still looked a bit uncomfortable. Served him right. 

"Fine, good," I said. 

"Good," Bon grinned. "Mine was spectacular." He took a drink. Malcolm came up to our little group. 

"Bon, I need a word with ya'."

"Mal! Have you met our new friend?" Bon gestured at me and I wanted to hide my face behind my writing. "She's a groupie journalist."

Malcolm looked me over. "Hi," he said quickly and Bon followed him over to a corner so they could talk in private. Martin walked away from me. 

I think I started something I didn't mean to start...

Angus was talking to Cliff and Phil was peeling tape off his fingers in the corner by himself. Incredible. A room full of people and yet I still felt alone. 

I looked over at Malcolm and Bon. Malcolm had a look of concern on his face while Bon listened. They looked at me and Bon shook his head. What the fuck were they saying about me? I'd give anything to know! Was I about to be destroyed or what??

Bon was smiling and fluttered his fingers at me. I waved back giving a pathetic smile. They both came back over to me, pulling up chairs. "Mal, this is Hannah Ruth. Or...apparently Gemini," he said grinning.

"Hi," Malcolm said holding his hand out for me to shake. Would you have blamed me if I started bawling right there and then? I'd never forget this moment as long as I lived. I shook his hand and he smiled. "'m Mal."

My heart was doing back flips. I couldn't speak. I was frozen. I turned into a statue or something, they'd have to wheel me out of here on a gurney. 

"Don't be shy, Mal only bites troublemakers," Bon said. 

"Yeah," Malcolm agreed. "Don't worry, darlin', we're harmless." My hands shook, wanting desperately to write but knowing I needed to wait until they had enough of talking to me. "Bon tells me you're new around here? The scene, I mean?"

"Yeah," I said nodding. 

"We saw ya' around last night but Bon sorta staked his claim," Malcolm said as Bon rolled his eyes.

"You could have come up an' said hello. Sheesh, get a load of this guy," Bon muttered to me gesturing at Malcolm. 

"You stayin' around nearby? Or are ya' leavin' soon?" I wasn't sure how to respond to that. Malcolm shook his long hair out of his face. "I know you stayed with Bon, I'm sure he'd love to have you over again."

"Ah, sorry, I can't tonight," he said. "I promised a dear friend of mine they could stay over tonight an' I haven't seen 'er in years, ya' know? But I'm sure Mal would be happy to host ya', right, Mal?" Malcolm shrugged.

"Yeah, sure, could use the company. Unless you'd rather stay somewhere else."

What the fuck would you say in a situation like this? The opportunities were simply falling into my lap. Bon must have cleared the air on what I told Martin because Malcolm looked a lot more relaxed. Martin kept glancing at me though. Maybe nobody had told him I lied. "She's a writer, like me," Bon said. "Told her she could write about us, like. You said freelance, yes?" 

"Yeah," I said, my voice squeaking. "I write about music." I winced. They were teaming up. Trying to break the truth out of me. I couldn't let my will shatter.

"Never know, Mal, might one day see us in the paper," Bon said winking at me. 

"You're already in the papers, Bon," someone in the road crew said as he walked past. 

"Yeah, but not by this little one." Bon nudged my knee. "Hey, Mal, she looks like a dancer, doesn't she?"

"Uh..." Malcolm scrutinized me. I sat perfectly still. "I guess, sure." Bon grinned. 

"Will this be the night of the seven veils?" he asked. I fought back a smile. 

"No," I said crossing my arms. "I told you, I need tea and music." Bon sighed, pretending to be disappointed. 

"Whatever you say. Well, I gotta get goin', gotta call a cab. Friends are waitin'. See ya' kid," Bon said as he left Malcolm and I alone. Malcolm shook the hair out of his face again. I wanted to study every detail but it would have been too weird. But this man wasn't around in my time! I wanted to preserve every memory I could. I settled with shyly staring at the floor. 

"So you...askin' questions, or what?" Malcolm asked nodding at my notebook. 

"I guess so," I said. "It's not a real interview or anything. I'm just curious." Malcolm looked towards the backdoor. 

"Might be a bit quieter on the bus," he said shrugging. "Ya' won't have to write down every time I have to shush someone."

He had a point. 

"Sure," I said as we both stood up to go outside. I couldn't feel any eyes on me this time. Maybe this place was a lot busier than the other one. Or maybe Malcolm didn't draw as much attention as Bon. 

At least Malcolm still had all his clothes on.

I followed Malcolm up to the bus, much like I followed Bon last night. I was taller than Malcolm, if only by an inch. Bon walked a lot slower than Malcolm did. Malcolm looked like he had a plane to catch. He climbed the steps to the bus and offered his hand to help me up. There was nobody else on it at the moment but I knew that wouldn't last long. Even the driver was on a smoke break.

He led me further and further to the back of the bus. I stepped over fallen cigarette butts and one crushed can of Coors. There was a sectioned off area with a long couch surrounding a table. There was an ash try sitting on it and a deck of cards. Malcolm lit up a cigarette and sat down at the table, gesturing me to follow suit. I sat across from him and set my notebook and water on the table.

Where the hell do I start?