December sunshine poured through the window onto my face, bleeding through the pale curtains. My eyes fluttered open and I quickly shut them again. Rolling over, the sun hitting my back, I rubbed my eyes and yawned, not wanting to sit up. It felt like I had melted into the bed during the night. It was part of me now, and I was part of it. My wet hair had dried on the pillow, leaving the pillow a damp mess. I shivered, reaching for a blanket and grabbing nothing but air. Sighing, I sat up and stretched, blinking slowly to adjust to the brightening room. 

Empty. Nothing but me rotting away. 

My notebook lay in a heap on the floor where I had kicked it. Collecting the various bits and pieces I added to it over the weeks, I stuffed them back inside and set the notebook on the bed. The flyer that had fallen to the floor looked up at me; or rather, the boys in the picture looked up at me. It felt like forever since I saw them play for the first time. So much had happened since then. Picking up the crumpled flyer from the floor, I noticed something had gotten itself stuck on the back. There was a tiny piece of stationary with loopy handwriting that fell to the floor as I tried pulling it off. Getting a closer look I suddenly remembered what it was.

"Bon..." I whispered, remembering the first night I stayed with him. He had given me his contact information before I left. My train of thought brought me to the key he gave me in case things got too much and I needed a place to stay. I stood from the floor and grabbed my notebook, hurrying out of the bedroom. 

There had to be something I could carry my things in. An extra bag or something. I ripped open every drawer I could find in the room and finally pulled a laundry bag out of the hall closet. Not kind of me to steal it and certainly not the most fashionable carrying case but it would have to do. Grabbing all my clothes I kept by the couch, I stuffed them in the bag, thinking about what I was going to say to Bon when I found him.

If I found him.

I considered calling him first, to see if he would be okay with me staying with him for a while. At least until the band went on tour. If he turned me down, who else could I go to? I didn't have anyone else's number and I couldn't remember which rooms they stayed in. I was going to have to hit the road soon anyway; surely the hotel was letting the room out to someone as I packed. Probably best to drop by Bon's. If he wasn't there or if he declined my staying, at least I'd be on the move. 

Carrying this giant laundry bag full of shit like a low budget Santa Claus. Ho ho ho.

**********

Bon's key rattled around in the pocket of my leather jacket. With how much I was sweating like a pig, I regretted wearing it. Instead of pulling the key out and turning the lock, I knocked on the door. I learned my lesson from last time for sure. No need to see that again. 

A full minute passed. Debating whether to try again or leave, Bon finally opened the door, shirtless and disheveled. He rubbed his hand over his face, yawning. I hung my head in guilt. Bon was a great guy but there was no reason for me to expect him to say yes. He had himself to think about. "You're up early, Hannah."

It was about ten in the morning.

"I'm sorry," I started, reciting in my head what I had planned to say. Suddenly my thoughts turned to mush and I fumbled over my words. "I needed a place to stay for a bit....and you were the first I thought of and you don't have to let me stay, I can find somewhere else..." My words came out jumbled from talking too fast. "But I can't stay at Stelle's room any longer and I'm not sure how long this time travel thing lasts...."

Bon put his hand up to stop me. I zipped up. "Come on, get in here," he said, standing aside to let me pass. I shrunk as I entered his room, hauling my laundry bag behind me. Bon yawned again, probably too tired to argue. "What is that?" he asked, closing the door.

"My clothes," I said. Along with Cliff's toothbrush and Malcolm's toothpaste and a hotel towel. "It was the only thing I could find to put everything in."

"That's keen thinkin'," he said and walked past me to the kitchen. I peered around every corner just in case a naked woman was hiding somewhere and caught me by surprise. But by the looks of things, Bon spent the better half of the night sleeping and nothing else. He opened the fridge and pulled out one of the beers we had bought together the other day. "Want one?"

"No thanks," I smiled, Bon shrugging his shoulders. 

"Thought I'd ask," he said, putting the beer back and grabbing one carton of milk and one of orange juice. "Jus' set your stuff down anywhere, then." I placed the bag on the couch and followed him to the kitchen where he pulled down a couple glasses. "Which one?"

"Milk please," I said, remembering the orange juice from Phil's room. He poured one glass of milk out and took a sip from the carton. After doing the same to the orange juice, he slid the glass of milk across the counter where I caught it. 

"Shame about Stelle," he said and I perked up. Did Bon just call her....

Bon noticed the look I gave him and smiled. "She's a bit like a sister, ya' know?" he said. "Callin' her Estelle puts her off a bit. But it's all fun an' games."

"Is that why she calls you Ronald?" I asked. 

"Sure is," he grinned, showing me his teeth. His hair fell in his face. "I'm gonna miss doin' that," he said. "Great friend of the band."

"I hope her mom is okay." I tried shrugging off the guilt I felt by focusing on her and not on me. Whether or not it was my fault, the accident had happened. What's done was done.

"Yeah....ya' know, I might send up some flowers or somethin' like..." he said, thinking. "Fruit basket or such." I slipped off my jacket and hung it on a chair, going to sit by the fan oscillating on the table. A stack of papers held down by an empty bottle fluttered when caught in the breeze. Bon's handwriting, same as the slip of paper he gave me, was loopy and rushed. I could only assume he was writing new material for the band. "Maybe after Christmas break we can ask management if we can take a stop in England an' ask around." My hands cupped the base of my glass of milk. It ripped under the force of the fan. Bon pulled a chair out, the legs scraping. "What's all this?" he asked.

Tears hit my wrists. I hadn't noticed them until it was too late.

Wiping my eyes I shook my head. "It's nothing," I said.

"Surely ain't nothin'," Bon said. "Here, best I can do." He grabbed a napkin from a little stand and handed it to me. I crumpled it in my hand and held it to my nose, the material rough against my skin. "This about Stelle, or...."

I didn't know what to say. Where to start. "You think I had something to do with it?" I asked.

"With what?"

"With-" I wiped my nose with the napkin. "With the accident?"

"What the fuck could you have done?" Bon asked and I turned my gaze away. "You heard what Stelle said, her mum drove in bad weather an' slammed the rail. You didn't do anythin'."

"Haven't you ever thought that my time traveling might have serious consequences?" I asked, almost snapping. "That maybe circumstances change when we mess with time and space?" Bon stared into his orange juice and shrugged.

"Truth is I haven't thought much of your time travelin'," he said. "An' I really don't think it has anythin' to do with the accident, love." I wasn't convinced. I couldn't help but blame myself for a lot of things and this had me written all over it. "Ya' know accidents happen all the time?"

"Of course I do!" I said, tears flowing freely. Bon passed me another napkin. "But-"

"No, no buts," Bon said, pointing a finger at me. "This isn't 'cause of you."

"But-"

"Ah! What did I say?" Bon said. "Look, I'll admit I'm not one hundred percent convinced you're from the future." This wasn't helping. "I'd say I'm about...." He scanned the ceiling, sticking his tongue out. "maybe ninety five percent sure."

"Thanks," I muttered. 

"An' I'm no expert on how it all works, seein' as I've never done it myself. But what makes you think showin' up here has anythin' to do with the England forecast?" he asked. Well, when you put it like that... "I can see maybe you changin' somethin' directly....like if a puppy was walkin' down the street an' got mowed down-"

"Bon!" I wailed.

"Sorry," he muttered, smiling. "But then you went back in time an' saved the puppy, I can see you makin' a change." I nodded. "But what does you bein' here have to do with what's over there?" He pointed behind him as if that's where England was. I shrugged and wiped my snotty nose on the napkin, setting it down to pick up the other one. Bon passed me the entire napkin stand and patted my hand. "Ya' need 'em more than I do."

After honking like a choir of geese I sniffled and sighed, relaxing. "Thanks, Bon," I said.

"Sure," he said. "Now uh...if you're finished with your beverage you can scurry to the shower if ya' want one."

I stood from the table. "Thanks," I said, feeling the morning's heat soaking through my shirt. "I think I will."

"Take your time," he said. "But save some hot water for me, yeah? I need one myself." He took a whiff under his arm and pretended to pass out on the table, one arm stretched in front of him. I had to laugh. 

"No promises," I said. 

"Ya' know, it'd save us both a headache if we jus' showered together."

I stared at Bon long and hard before reaching across the table and pushing my fingers down on the space between his neck and shoulder. He squirmed away from me, laughing and swatting my hand away.

"Alright, get out of here," he said, downing the rest of his juice.

**********

I followed Bon off the bus toward the backstage door. It felt like old times. A large man in a yellow shirt opened it for the team; a few crew members and fans pouring out of the bus to the door. The rest of the band had been on the other one. Bon had meant to get on that one but after chatting up the hotel concierge with rosy red cheeks and long eyelashes for half an hour, he lost track of time and we ended up on the late bus. 

Bon got her number, anyway.

Thoughts of my beloved friend back home kept popping up into my mind. I bit my lip, hoping the tears would get the hint. I swore to myself right then and there that when-if-I made it back home, I'd make it up to her. I'd apologize for being the shittiest friend in the world. Maybe Stelle's leaving had nothing to do with anything I did or said. But I felt guilty all the same. I needed to be a better friend to those around me. Especially to my one and only back home. 

Speaking of friends....

As Bon went to the locker room down the hall I saw Malcolm standing in a corner, crowded by two taller men. John and Larry. I had completely forgotten about those two. After hearing about Stelle's mother, I raced to get back to the hotel and didn't give them a second thought. Now here they were, backstage passes slung around their necks awaiting Malcolm's next words. 

"I really am sorry, fellas," he said, a slight smile on his face. "A good friend of ours had some trouble an' had to rush home. We saw her off."

"What do you think, Larry?" John asked, his arms crossed. Larry adjusted his glasses to see Malcolm better. 

"Hard to say. Could be a trick."

"It's not a trick! It's-" Malcolm sighed in exasperation until he saw me. He brightened up and squeezed past his friends. "Here, you gents remember Hannah."

"Sure we do, she was your accomplice," John said and Larry snickered. I could tell they were messing with Malcolm but at the same time they still demanded an explanation for why all backstage passes were revoked that night. 

"She was our photographer's roommate, the one who rushed home," Malcolm said. "Tell 'em, Hannah."

I squared up to John and Larry, Malcolm's arm resting on my shoulder. "He's right," I said. "We didn't mean to leave you two behind."

"See?" Malcolm grinned in triumph. "Now scatter, you're drawin' a crowd." Malcolm turned to leave our little group when John stopped him. 

"We're letting you off this time, Young," he said, pointing two fingers at his own eyes then pointing them at Malcolm. Malcolm rolled his eyes and started laughing to himself. "Come on, Larry, let's find us some women and wine."

"Better hurry before Mal cleans the place," Larry said and Malcolm blew a raspberry in their direction. I winced as the spray came my way.

"Sorry, love," he said. "They found me comin' off the bus. I got 'em new tickets an' everythin' but they weren't too happy to have gotten sobered up for nothin'." Malcolm smiled like he knew what a drag that was. "Great guys, honestly."

"Don't worry, Mal," I said. "They'll have to get through me first."

"If they try that they'll have to get through me," Malcolm said. "No one's hurtin' our little time traveler." I flushed at the name. Looking around and seeing everyone else preoccupied, Malcolm lowered his voice. "I spoke to Ang," he said. "'Bout your little...what you said?"

"Yeah?" I asked, my palms sweating. Malcolm scanned the room for Angus and turned away in disgust when he caught sight of him changing in the locker room entrance. 

I blushed like mad. 

"He seems convinced," Malcolm said. "He read every word you wrote an' he's been around ya' a little more than I have."

"You believe me?" I asked, trying not to let him see my excitement. My voice betrayed me. 

"You could say that," he said and I couldn't help myself. I grabbed him for a hug, happy to have another one on my side. I wasn't strong enough to pick him up but I made an attempt anyway. 

"Look at him, Johnny, he's already getting all the girls," Larry commented as they walked by. I let go of him and dusted off his shirt. 

"Sorry," I said. Malcolm pushed his long hair aside and I could see he had turned a little pink. 

"No worries, love," he said. "No fuckin' worries." Angus came out of the locker room in a bright blue school uniform, adjusting his shorts so his shirt stayed tucked in. 

"Evenin'," he said, smiling at me, one hand halfway down his shorts. It was my turn to turn a little pink. I nodded my greeting then turned back to Malcolm who hadn't noticed the exchange. The venue here was a decent sized place but not many people had been allowed backstage. Whether security was tightened again or people didn't buy passes, I couldn't tell. 

"Found the guys that threw you out," Malcolm said, apparently reading my thoughts. "Had a little chat."

"Please tell me you didn't fire them," I groaned. I would hate to think they lost their jobs because of me. 

"Course not, they're some of the best we got," Malcolm said and I let out a breath of relief. "But I let 'em know we don't appreciate our friends gettin' thrown out in the rain an' if it happens again...." He shrugged. 

"What, you'll do the same to them?" I asked. 

"Maybe," he said. "Find me if it happens again. I mean it."

I smiled. I appreciated his protective nature for his friends. "I will. Thanks, Malcolm." That might have been a lie. I really didn't want anyone losing their job over me. If it happened again I'd do the smart thing and find the buses, taking shelter in one of them instead of banging on the backstage door. Luckily tonight, there was no rain. 

"An' about your livin' situation-"

"Oh, I asked Bon if I could stay with him," I said and Malcolm nodded. "He offered me a place to stay if I ever needed one for a bit."

"An' if Bon ever gets to be too much you can always knock on my door," Malcolm said. "Unless I'm asleep which might be the case more often than ya' think."

"Thanks, Mal," I said and Malcolm left me with a pat on the shoulder and a whistle on his lips. He took his guitar out of his case and tuned it up; the show would be starting soon. John and Larry met up with him again, all of them laughing and play fighting. Cliff and Bon struck up a conversation, Bon having changed into some rather tight jeans with strategically placed holes. Phil was on the phone and Angus was lighting up a quick cigarette. I saw another man with a camera around his neck, taking a few photos. I crossed my arms and sighed.

It wasn't the same.

**********

My head clunked against the window as the bus hit a rather large speed bump at a rather fast pace. "You okay?" Bon asked. 

"Sure," I said, rubbing my smarting temple. "That's what I get for falling asleep."

"Here, lean on me," Bon said, patting his arm. I took his offer, feeling so sleepy and hesitant to try the window again. Bon's arm was warm and felt more like a pillow than the window did. That is, if pillows had muscles. I felt myself drifting off again when the bus hit another speed bump and I went flying into Bon's lap. I scurried away from him and felt my face heat up when I caught sight of Bon's grin. "Where's your hurry?" he said. "I'm flattered."

"In your dreams, Scott," I said and gave up trying to sleep. There would be plenty of time for that on Bon's couch. 

"Aw, you're no fun," he said. A tiny smile began to creep its way across his face and I could feel him staring at me. 

"What?" I asked. He had something up his sleeve and he was playing coy to be funny. The bus made a turn and Bon held on to the seat in front of us so he didn't topple into the aisle. Whoever was driving got his license that morning. Once on a straight piece of road, Bon leaned back in our seat and crossed his arms. 

"Nothin'," he smiled.

I shook my head at his blatant weirdness, deciding it was just Bon being Bon. As Mr. Magoo up front took us over the freeway, Bon's smile grew and he began giggling and laughing to himself. Like he had an evil scheme concocting in his brain. "Bon, you're worrying me."

"It's nothin'," he said again but I knew better. Bon was up to something. Something conniving. 

The closer we got to the hotel, the more Bon's smiling and giggling and eyeing me were starting to become concerning. Had anyone been paying attention to us they would have thought Bon took some happy pills or something. But Bon was clever about it. Any time someone walked by our seats he would plaster on a straight face and make innocent conversation like nothing was wrong. As soon as they left Bon's smile would return and he would direct it right at me. I tried to ignore it but it was driving me crazy! Once Angus walked by and Bon asked him how he was enjoying the front seat. Angus, looking at me like I knew what he was talking about, said it was fine and went on his merry way. Bon went into another fit of giggles, only stopping to let Angus make his return to his seat. 

Finally the bus stopped and everyone stood up to stretch their legs and gather their things. As the others milled around and filed off the bus chattering, Bon stayed right where he was. And I was trapped. "What's going on, Bon?" I demanded.

Lowering his voice, Bon leaned closer and whispered in my ear. "How'd you like to stay behind an' have a little fun?" he asked. 

My face burned.