My hands gripped each other tightly as I sat on the sofa, Phil next to me. He was writing something down but I couldn't see what it was. It looked like he was balancing a checkbook. I hadn't seen anyone doing that in years. After my shower I put Bon's shirt back on and let him take his turn. In the meantime Phil and I sat on his couch, not speaking to each other. Phil was busy and I was occupied. Tension had only increased.

Can he see me looking at him? Better look away. Can he tell I'm nervous? Is he even paying attention? Look away, look away. What if he tries something too? How many others have a thing for me that I don't know about? Hm?

After looking away for the millionth time, Phil sighed. "What?" he asked, not looking up at me.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, my voice wavering. "I didn't say anything." Phil closed his booklet and set the pencil down. 

"Every time you an' I sit within ten feet of each other you look at me like I'm gonna do somethin'," he said and I frowned. "First it was you an' Stelle an' now it's jus' you." I remembered how nervous I was when I was in his room a while ago. Stelle and I sat at the kitchen table by the fan while I worried about telling him I was from the future. I felt ashamed for doing it a second time. "You have some other secret to tell me?"

Or do you have a secret to tell me, Rudd?

"No," I said, willing myself to calm down. Me being a nervous wreck probably put Phil on edge. I couldn't do that, it would be....what did Blanche Devereaux say? Unsouthern? "It's just been a busy morning, is all."

"Busy here too," Phil said. "Last night Mal an' all were up an' down the halls doin' God knows what an' this mornin' Mal called askin' if I knew anythin'." Phil clasped his hands together and looked at me at an odd angle. "Apparently it was a whole affair. I missed it 'cause I was asleep."

"I hope the bus gets fixed before the concert," I said. 

"Me too. Or else I'll be sittin' on Mal's lap in the clown car," Phil said and I laughed. "Clown bus is more like it."

"I was thinking so I could get my clothes back," I said. "But yeah, you need the extra room, don't you?" Phil leaned back on the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table to prove it. 

"Sure do," he said. "Can't live without it." Then he frowned. "Your clothes are on the bus?"

"Yes," I said, gritting my teeth. "And our room keys too."

"That's rough, hon," Phil said and closed his eyes. "But Bon doesn't mind goin' stark."

Right on cue the bathroom door opened and out walked Bon in nothing but a towel. His hair was much less poofy than usual, except for the fringe in the front. He grabbed a soda from the fridge and drank half of it before acknowledging that we were there. "Finally, a fuckin' towel, right, Hannah?" Bon asked. 

"Right," I said, remembering the lack thereof on the tour bus. I averted my gaze from his, still feeling a bit awkward from before. Phil could only do so much to distract me from the Copacabana I was living in. Thankfully Phil didn't seem to feel anything for me so that was one less I had to worry about. 

What if it were Angus?

I tried to ignore my brain. If it were Angus, I'd decline his advances just like the others, no special treatment. Oh, I'd do it with a heavy heart, though. 

**********

I couldn't finish my takeout salad. I tossed it around with my fork, partially hungry and partially nauseous. We were backstage now after getting a cab to the venue. When we got there the second bus wasn't back yet. Bon's shirt wasn't much against the cool breeze and Phil had to lend me his sandals which were rather big and flopped at the heel. I looked ridiculous. But that wasn't even the worst part.

While the band got ready to perform, eating a quick meal beforehand, I sat by myself in a chair in the corner, carefully observing. 

Oh, shit, they're sitting together. They're talking. They're talking about me, I know they are. Don't look at them, pretend you don't see them. 

I forced a forkful of salad into my mouth and chewed, the carrots crunching loud enough to hear. As if I didn't have enough attention to worry about. Malcolm and Bon, of all people, decided to sit together and have a drink before the show. Once in a while I'd glance up and pretend to be looking at something else when really, I was keeping an eye on them. 

I didn't need drama, after all. 

Don't look at me. Don't look at me. Don't look-aaaaaand they're looking at me. They know. They know what happened. They're talking about it. They hate me. They hate me. They hate-

"Can I sit here?" I almost dropped my salad in surprise when Cliff spoke, looming over me with his bass. "I need space to practice."

"S-sure," I said, staring down at my food. I forced another bite. I had to admit, it was a good salad. Had I been hungrier I'd have devoured it instantly. Cliff pulled up a second chair and started tuning his bass. I stole a glance upwards and noticed Bon and Malcolm were back to speaking but now Angus was looking at me. 

Back to my salad. 

"I heard the bus was on the way here," Cliff said. "Mostly fixed an' everything."

"Oh," I said, perking up a little bit. "That's good." Hopefully the concert would start before it showed up. I could collect my things while the boys were gone. I set my fork down and fiddled with my backstage pass instead, the plastic hanging around my neck. I didn't have Phil to worry about but what about Cliff? I thought back to the early days when Stelle was still here. Didn't she mention something about his having a girlfriend? I had to make sure. "So....how's your girlfriend?" I asked, hoping I didn't sound weird.

"You knew I have one?" he asked and my knuckles turned white around the pass. 

"Stelle told me," I said. Cliff nodded and smiled.

"Right," he said. "She's doin' great, I love her." I sighed in relief. "I miss her. She's American like you."

Okay, easy, Clifford...don't start making comparisons, now....

"That's cool," I said, chancing a glance upwards. Bon was now gone and Angus had taken his spot, talking to Malcolm. The room was so busy and crowded I couldn't have eavesdropped even if I wanted to. "You gonna marry her?"

"As soon as I can," he said, plucking a few strings. They sounded fine to me but Cliff wasn't satisfied and kept tuning. "Things have been tough, with tours an' all."

"Of course," I said, feeling hungry enough for another bite. Cliff stopped playing for a second and looked at me. 

"You probably miss your family too, don't ya'?" he asked. That was obvious. I'd been away for almost a whole month now and hadn't been in contact with any of my loved ones. Despite all that, I'd been doing pretty well by myself. Maybe because I wasn't really by myself. I had my new friends to stay with. At first I had been terrified by the prospect of traveling through time to a different country. And while it was still daunting, I was slowly getting used to it. "How long has it been now?"

"Uh...." I tried to think back to what day it was when I got here. Sometime in November, right? "I can't remember," I said. "Weeks." Cliff looked at me with sympathy and I averted my gaze. I really didn't want him feeling bad for me. 

"I'm sorry, kid," he said. "Must be tough." 

"No kidding," I said. Time was running out and I still didn't have a way home. Being stuck in 1978 wasn't the worst thing that could happen to a person. There were worse years. But I wouldn't mind having a steady home and my own bed again. 

The backdoor opened and a couple roadies came inside, both of them half asleep and headed for the drinks. "The bus is back," one said and a few people cheered, including Bon. The man held his hand up to silence everyone. "They fixed the mirror and a couple scratches but there's still some work to be done. Now I'm not gonna name names," he said, eyes directed right at Bon who grinned and waved. "But someone here is in big trouble."

"I ain't worried," Bon said from across the room. "I'll fix it myself if ya' give me a tool."

"Oh, that'll help," the man said to a few people laughing. I stood from my chair, setting my salad down. 

"It was nice talking with you, Cliff, but I've got to get going," I said, heading for the door. This was my chance! If I could escape now without anyone noticing my absence, I could change quickly and save some of my dignity. 

"See you, love," Cliff said as I took off through the door. Phil's sandals flopped around as I ran; more like hopped from side to side. After almost tripping more times than I'd like to admit, I made it to the bus and found the door open just a crack. I slipped my fingers through and pried it open, hoping this was the right one. 

There was no one on it but me. I remembered all the food and drinks we had stashed away and I saw several crumbs scattered on a couple of the seats. One chip bag was empty and crumpled in a ball in the windshield and an empty container of dip sat next to it. "Hmm...." I said with a smirk, wondering what else I would find. 

A couple cans of soda, actually. The water appeared to be untouched. I found my clothes on the bed I slept in, the blanket long gone in Phil's hotel room. Snatching the clothes I unbuttoned Bon's shirt and kicked off Phil's sandals, going as fast as I could. The curtains were open now and anybody could look in from the outside and see me changing. "Hannah Ruth, you absolute moron," I muttered to myself, deep in thought. I pulled on my shirt and grabbed my jeans. "Made a fool of yourself, that's all you've done. When you get home, you're gonna get it..."

Slipping on my leather jacket and feeling much better that I was fully clothed, I stepped on the bottom bunk and searched around the bed for Bon's room key. It was tucked under the sheets, very well hidden, and I grasped it and stuffed it in my pocket. Slipping on my socks and shoes and picking everything else up, I turned around and immediately wanted to jump out the window. 

Standing there at the front of the bus were two men, backstage passes swinging from around their necks. They were carrying some extra equipment to store in the back. Due to my incessant mumbling to myself, I hadn't heard them board the bus. And here they were, staring at me with very wide eyes. 

How much of me had they just seen?

Swallowing the last bit of dignity I had left and standing up straight and tall, I flipped Bon's shirt over my shoulder and walked right up to them. Both men kept their eyes glued to me, hoping for an encore to the show I just gave them. "Jealous, much?" They stood apart to let me pass and I walked down the steps slowly before picking up the pace for the backstage door. 

My knuckles ached as I knocked on the door. A man in a neon yellow shirt opened it for me. Hanging my head, I meekly lifted up my backstage pass and he let me through. Keeping my eyes on the floor, I trudged my way through the group, eyes from all directions watching me. Phil was talking with someone as I handed him his sandals. "Thanks," he said, frowning at my appearance. I went on. 

Bon had been sitting by himself when I approached him. I held out the room key along with the shirt he gave me to wear and he took them. "You okay?" he asked, his voice quiet. In response I could only sigh. I felt everyone's eyes on me as I left them in the main room, finding my way to a tiny bathroom. Once I was sure I was alone and not being followed, I stood with my back against the wall and slowly slid down to the nasty floor, my legs stretching out in front of me. 

What a fucking day...