"Hello?" I yelled at the door. Rain beat my face and drenched my hair as I pounded on the backstage door. My hands were starting to burn and my voice started to crack. "Open up! Can anyone hear me? Hello!"

I kicked on the door hoping one of the roadies would hear me and let me back in. Maybe help me explain to the security guards that there was a mistake. A burst of lightning and thunder scared the shit out of me and I pounded harder. 

"You stuck?" a voice asked behind me. I whirled around and saw a man in a blue raincoat holding a grey umbrella over his head. He offered the umbrella to me and I stood under it, water dripping down my nose and chin. 

"Thanks," I muttered. Despite the hot Sydney air the rain was getting to me and I shivered. 

"I heard quite the commotion over here," the man said. I suddenly wished I hadn't been making such a fuss. It evidently allowed for strange men to investigate and keep me company. Looking the man over, he seemed nice enough. An honest face and a gentle New Zealand accent. But all the same, I was a bit nervous. His umbrella was an appreciated comfort, however. I'd give him a chance. "You uh...trying to get in?"

"Security threw me out," I said. "The band playing tonight are my friends and they didn't believe it."

"Friends with the band?" the man asked. "You don't say! What band is it, then?" He fluttered his lashes at me. 

"AC/DC," I said. He frowned. 

"Never heard of them." It was my turn to frown.

"That's a shame," I said. "They're kind of famous around here." 

"You don't say..." the man repeated, looking me over. I shrunk under his penetrating gaze, sort of hoping he'd leave me to my plight. Downpour be damned. Feeling like such an asshole for assuming the worst about a total stranger, I took a deep breath and held my hand out for him to shake. "Gotta name?"

No, I once again thought to myself. I mentally smacked myself. Come on, I can stop being so rude to everybody, can't I? "Hannah," I said. 

"No last name?" he asked. That's where I drew the line.

"Nope," I said and the man laughed. His laugh was more of a shriek and I really hoped by some miracle the door would open and swallow me up. It pierced the air like a hawk coming in for the kill. "And what about you?"

"Giles Northman," he said, getting himself together. "I'm here on a business trip and decided to take a walk."

"Bad night to take a walk," I said, water dripping from my hair. 

"Oh, not at all," he said. "Especially when you have an umbrella with you, it's not too bad." Rain hit the top of the umbrella and ran down the sides in small streams, trapping us underneath. He gleamed his bright teeth at me. "See? Can't feel a thing."

I willed myself to keep calm and cool. "Look, it's been nice talking with you but I don't want to ruin your walk," I said. "I'll be fine out here."

"Please, you think I'm gonna stand by and let a woman like you stand out here in the dark and rain without so much as something to keep her dry? Of course not!" he bellowed right as the lightning struck. Giles beat a hand to his chest. "I'm too much of a gentleman to do that." I winced as he stepped even closer to me, my personal space too crowded.

Does being a gentleman include not taking no for an answer?

I had to ignore him. If I was going to get help, I couldn't stand around here doing jack all. Turning away from Giles, I started pounding on the door again. "Hello?" I waited for a response. "I know you're in there!"

My pounding seemed to disturb Giles and he brushed my hand away. "Hey now, no need to call attention to ourselves, is there?" 

Occasionally people get instinctual apprehensions about their company. A gut feeling that they shouldn't be there. And right now my gut was ushering me to find a place to puke. 

I once again ignored Giles and continued to pound on the door. Surely security or someone would open the door to tell me to shut up or get lost and maybe I could zip past before they could catch me. If Giles tried racing after me, security could take him down. Or maybe his gargantuan umbrella would get stuck in the door. I almost giggled at the thought. 

Giles grabbed my left hand and forced me to face him. "What, you don't like my company?" His voice was still gentle but I didn't like it one bit. One million thoughts ran through my head about what I could say as a response. And instead, I bit them all back and said nothing. Water ran down my cheeks but I wasn't sure if it was rain or my tears. Giles let go of my hand. "Fine lady you are," he huffed. 

Come on, the band had to be finished by now, right? It wasn't like with Brian where they brought out the cannons for the encore. The song hadn't even been written yet! Keeping my back to the door, eyes on Giles, I slapped the door with the palm of my hand, kicking it with my boot. 

And I screamed when Giles pulled me away from the door and pushed me further into the rain. Shrinking his umbrella down, the honest face gone, he glared at me. "Is that any way to treat someone who helps you?" he yelled. 

"Fuck off!" I yelled back but it was hidden by the thunder. I tried getting around him but he blocked the door completely, stepping in my way, a sick grin on his face like this was all a game to him. 

Then like some miracle from heaven, the back door opened. One minute Giles was standing and the next he was lying face down on the wet pavement. I had only a second to dodge him as he fell toward me, losing his balance and collapsing into a puddle. Water sprayed from underneath him and I watched him struggle to stand up. I couldn't let guilt keep me from getting away so I turned to the gaping door to thank my savior. There, squinting and holding a hand over his eyes to see in the rain, was Phil. He was staring at Giles. "Fuckin' hell, did I kill him?" he asked. 

Without answering I leaped over Giles' legs and slipped through the door, pulling Phil away from it and letting it slam closed. Instantly I went in for a hug. 

"Have you been out there this whole time?" he asked.

"You have no idea," I said, holding him as tight as I could. Whatever the reason for Phil's maniacal door opening, I didn't care. I was safe. "Thank you, Phil."

"Who was that I jus' took out?" he asked, being the first to step away from the hug. I wiped my eyes, hoping they weren't as red and puffy as they felt. 

"Giles Northman," I said, putting on a smile. "He heard me knocking."

Footsteps pounded across the floor and I flinched, thinking security had bowled down the Young Brothers on their way to defeat me once and for all, flinging everything in their path aside. Phil wasn't fazed at all as the Youngs themselves appeared, seemingly in a hurry. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding as Malcolm reached us first. "Everythin' okay?"

Phil shrugged. "Found Hannah outside," he said. "Opened the door to throw my cigarette out an' next thing I know some bloke's stretched out flat."

"What were you doin' out there?" Malcolm asked, wrapping an arm around me. Angus joined us with concern on his face. Really, I didn't think there'd be such a fuss over me. 

"Security," I said and the boys nodded. 

"Fuckin'.....geez, do we need security for our security now?" Malcolm muttered. Angus smiled for a second then dropped it. "Come on, we gotta get goin'." Malcolm ushered me away from the back door and through the dim passages of the venue. 

Then I realized the urgency wasn't all for me.

"Ya' didn't hear, did ya'?" Malcolm asked, pushing open every door and letting it swing behind us. Angus and Phil were left to dodge the doors, following us as fast as they could while getting their jackets on. 

"Hear what?" I asked. My heart raced. Just as soon as I thought the trouble was over, it was out of the frying pan and into the fire. I almost didn't want to hear what Malcolm was about to say.

"Bout Stelle?" he said. "An' why she wasn't here tonight?"

How could I have been so stupid? How could I not notice my own friend hadn't been here? I had been so wrapped up in my own head, questioning my feelings for Malcolm and lamenting my lack of a dry towel that I hadn't even thought about Stelle all evening. Along with a shortage of groupies, our photographer had been absent as well.

"What's wrong?" I asked, speeding up to match Malcolm's brisk pace. Eventually we made it to a side door where the buses were waiting. The rain pelted us with a vengeance and thunder growled above. Instead of guiding me toward the bus, Malcolm led me toward a humble station wagon pulled up behind them, a roadie in the front seat. He opened the passenger door and waited for me to get in. 

"Stelle's mum's been in an accident."