I looked everywhere for something to write on. I didn't want to write on his song lyrics or anything. I could tear another page out of the phone book but that still left me to find something to write with. Surely a poet like Bon kept pens around somewhere. 

I found a joint in between the couch cushions. Nice.

Before I could write out a note saying I had left and thanking him for taking me in for the night, he came up behind me. "You're up early," he said.

It was actually around eleven in the morning. But I didn't tell him that. "I was just leaving," I said. 

"Ya' don't have to go so fast, you can stay awhile," he said fluffing up his wild hair. His eyes were sleepy but still sparkling. "If ya' still want to write about the band ya' need somethin' to write about." That was true. "An' it's not every day I get company such as yourself."

Bon truly was King Charming.

I didn't know what to say. He was right. I wanted something to write about and leaving would only cut my chances of running into them again. They could leave the country tomorrow for a world tour and I'd never see them again. Mission failed. Not to mention I didn't have a place of my own to stay at. 

But it also didn't feel right imposing on Bon's living space, temporary it may be. I was just some lost little puppy who followed him home. I stayed the night, now I could scram. But maybe he didn't see it that way. Maybe he saw potential in me, not just as a groupie, but as a journalist. 

Or...a fanfiction wolf in journalist's clothing. 

I must have been thinking for too long. Bon shrugged and went into the kitchen yawning, coming back with a glass of water. "Do you have work today?"

"A quick show downtown. You goin'?"

I didn't think I could afford it. "I don't know," I said. 

"Be swell if ya' did. An' ya' still haven't really met the other guys, ya' know? I'm not the whole thing, I'm jus' the flash in the middle." He smiled. His eyes were foggy. "But if I can't sway ya'..." 

"I'd probably better go...." I was growing more and more hesitant. He might be my one chance to fulfill my teenage dream. 

"If you insist," he said following me to the door. Seeing him stumble behind me I felt I should leave and let him catch up on sleep. And take care of that hangover. He escorted me out the door and tapped me on the shoulder. "Wait right there."

I stood there, his door swinging slightly, and watched him disappear back into the room. Someone's footsteps came around the corner and I heard the elevator ding. Bon came back with a piece of the phone book and a pen, scribbling something down. He handed it to me. 

"That's the place we're playin' at tonight," he said pointing at an address. "If ya' decide to come." He pointed at the next one. "That one is the hotel we're stayin' at for now, that's this one. This is my room number." He pointed at the door behind him. "This one is the hotel room phone number, you can call it anytime you need a friend or somethin'. As long as I'm home." He smiled. 

"Thank you," I said putting the paper in my pocket. He lightly nudged my shoulder.

"See ya' around then."

"See you," I said as he closed the door.

I could have danced on the spot. I turned to walk down the hall seeing an old couple standing there watching me. I realized what it looked like; a shirtless man saying goodbye to a young woman dressed for the bars in his hotel room. Like the awkward mouse I was, I scurried in the opposite direction. 

Leaving the hotel I felt a bit faint and my stomach rumbled. I couldn't believe how little I'd eaten in the time I'd been here. Nothing but bitter coffee and bitter tea. I pulled the money out of my pocket and counted it out. Still a couple of bills and a decent amount of coins. If I played things right I might have enough to last me a couple days. But sleeping arrangements would be tough. My stomach roared again. I'd think about that later. Right now, food.

A burger didn't sound all that good but it may have been my only option. I had no idea where I was going and there were no breakfast places around that I could see. There was a small coffee shop that looked promising. Through the glass window I could see an assortment of baked goods in a display case. Some people were talking over coffee or tea, while other customers were reading books while nibbling on a chocolate croissant. 

Not exactly your typical five a day. But I was hungry. 

I cautiously walked in, a couple people looking up to see what disrupted their quiet morning solitude. Nothing to see here, just a creature of the black lagoon. No flash photography, please. 

I stepped up to the counter and a very tan woman with a hairnet asked me what I wanted. I pulled out whatever money I still had in my pocket and counted it out. There was enough to have a small cinnamon bun and a cup of tea. I took my goodies to a table and sat down to eat.

Boy, do I hate eating in front of people.

Not one soul in that store paid any attention to me and I still felt like there was a giant spotlight hanging over my head. Every bite I took, every crumb that dribbled onto my napkin, every sip of my tea....I tried to eat slowly so as not to cough up a storm and invite real stares.

My stomach stopped growling and my blood sugar rose to an acceptable level. I drank the last of my tea and left the little bakery. The sun was shining and the air was warm. I slipped off my leather jacket and walked down the street, having absolutely no clue where I was or what I was doing for the day. Why my dumb ass didn't stay with Bon, I have no idea.

Some high schoolers were out with banners advertising their car wash benefit. The money was going to some children's hospital. Right across the street from them was a gas station and an automatic car wash. Unfortunately, more cars were lined up outside the automatic. 

I had no clue what time it was. The sun felt like it was already noon. I took out the slip of paper Bon gave me and looked at the address he wrote. 

5070 Sheltown Road 

-wait by the backdoor where the bus is, one of us will find you

I stared at the little note he wrote next to it. My oh my....

Knowing I'd never find the place in time before the show I figured I may as well start looking now. I ran across the street to the high schoolers and tapped on the shoulder of the friendliest looking one, asking if she knew the location. 

"Oh, that's just down there a ways," she said pointing towards a movie theater. "'Bout a block away from here." 

"Thank you," I said and turned to leave.

"Hey," one of the kids piped up. "You go to Ridgeback High?" a scrawny boy asked. 

"No, I don't." I left high school years ago and I wasn't ever turning back. He crossed his arms and made a face.

"You're not from the rival school, are ya'?" The kids all looked at me with suspicion. I had a feeling the rival school was bad news. "This is the fifth year in a row they've beaten us at the benefit."

"No, I'm not in school."

The girl I got directions from looked me up and down. "You a dropout?"

"I'm twenty four," I said and they stared at me in surprise. 

"Fuck, really?" she asked. "Ya' look seventeen at the most." I pouted. "Guess I should have figured if you're heading for that club down the street."

"The Python?" the scrawny boy asked. I nodded, assuming that was the name of the club Bon was talking about. "Aw, you're lucky! AC/DC's playing there tonight and I can't go!"

"None of us can, it's wicked expensive," the girl said rolling her eyes. "And you get booted out and the cops called for even looking under eighteen." I swallowed my nerves. "But if you've got a real ID, you should be fine," she shrugged.

Bon's advice of waiting by the backdoor looked a lot more pleasing. 

"Anyway, good luck," she said turning back to their car wash. I turned to go down the block where she directed me, the hot sun blazing down. What I wouldn't give for some sunscreen and water. 

And a bathroom. That tea was getting to me. 

There was a public bathroom by the theater and I walked in. Something smelled. One stall looked locked even though I couldn't see any feet under it. I admired how low the doors hung. In America, they're like three feet off the ground. The closer I got to the stall the worse the smell got so I picked a different one. 

The toilet paper was only one ply. Which was...fine...I noticed some lovely artwork on the wall and on the door depicting a man's private parts and a phone number. I wasn't about to call that number any time soon. I finished and washed my hands, hoping to get out of there as quick as I could. 

Passing a boutique window I noticed my sprightly and glamorous reflection. A good change of clothes was what I desperately needed but there was no way I could afford any of that. Did I even want to wear clothes from the seventies? I browsed a few vintage catalogs at home and laughed my ass off at some of the designs. The clothes hanging in the boutique looked a little better than Sears magazine, but even so, the hole in my pocket screamed at me to keep moving. 

When I reached the end of the block I looked at all the street signs and couldn't find a single Sheltown. I must have circled around and around three times looking like a lost puppy. Finally turning a corner I hadn't tried before I found a street labeled "Shellton". 

I looked down at the paper and looked back up at the sign. 

Is this it?

Walking closer I inspected the buildings, hoping to find a sign that said The Python. There, in all its glory, was a large building with a neon sign that was turned off, named The Python with a large brown snake next to it. The windows were black and there was a large red rope outside the front doors. No cars, no people, no business. I tucked the paper back in my pocket and sighed, smiling a little.

Bon spelled the street name wrong. Thank fuck those high schoolers were around, I'd be lost for months. 

There were hours to kill before the show so I made a mental note of where the club was before walking away. 

What the hell do time traveling groupies do during their time off? When we weren't on the clock making friends with rockstars, where did we go? 

I found a little stationary store across the street. I just about tripped over myself running toward it. Pens and paper was just what I needed! Something to take notes on! On my whole experience here, the sights, the band, their shows! I looked at the prices and counted my money.

I almost collapsed on the ground when I saw I didn't have enough.

So close...so fucking close...

I wasn't about to steal anything. But I so desperately wanted to write about my trip! If I truly was the first person to travel back in time, it should be recorded! 

Wattpad needed a good story! 

According to all who grew up in the seventies, you could just walk into any old shop and ask for a job. They'd hire you on the spot. I quickly looked around for any stores I could work at, if only for a day. Oh, but imagine...working for extra money and not having to scrape by while I'm here! And the perfect job? Working at a record store, surrounded by music....

I made up my mind. Time to get a job.