Stelle barely looked at me the entire way to the venue. The boys had another show and just like always we showed up. I didn't bother bringing my notebook. It was getting heavier with all my little trinkets and now a bit of a hassle to carry around. Stelle could just wear her camera around her neck. No matter how many photos she took, it would never get too heavy to carry.

I found a seat next to Malcolm who was playing a card game with a roadie. He smiled at me and showed me his cards. "I'm winnin'," he said. 

"He's lying," the roadie said. I could see a pile of money sitting between them, insinuating a gamble. "He's trying to get me to give up and it's not working."

"I'm tryin' to get ya' to quit now before you're broke," Malcolm said. He set a few cards down and picked up a few more. His expression didn't change. "Jus' warnin' ya' now."

"I don't buy a word of it." The roadie took his turn and seemed okay with his new cards. He smiled. "Ready?"

Malcolm set his cards down. The roadie took one look and threw his in all directions, groaning. "I don't know what to tell ya'," Malcolm said, grabbing the money. "Did what I could."

"This is shit, this is sorcery," the roadie said, gathering the cards again to shuffle. "Want to play?" It took me a second to realize he was talking to me. 

"No thanks," I said. "I'm no good at cards."

"Probably best," he said. "Mal's a shark."

While the roadie got the cards ready one of Malcolm's friends from our night out and a couple other men I didn't recognize came over to him. "Hey, ya' made it," Malcolm said. "You remember Hannah." 

The blond man smiled upon seeing me. "Course I remember that cute face," he said and I tried not to get the giggles. Okay, I admit, it's not every day you get called cute. I cleared my throat and kept a straight face. 

"Hello," I said, shaking his hand. He and Malcolm got started in on a conversation and I glanced at the blond man's company. I didn't like the way one of them looked at me. It wasn't just interested, it was downright leering. Deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt while still being on my guard, I looked back over at Stelle. She was talking to Angus. 

Wonderful.

The two people who knew something was up were planning and conniving together. Just what I needed. 

All too soon the show started. The boys took to the stage with their instruments and did what they do best. Stelle made eye contact with me once before heading to the wings to get more photos. I hadn't meant to cause this much tension and disruption among my friends yet here I was! 

Deciding to mope around and wait for the concert to finish, I found a place to sit in the corner. There was a cobweb on the wall and a few bits of trash behind a table. I felt right at home.

"What are you sitting by yourself for?" I looked up to see the blond man and his friend. There wasn't much room in my corner for all three of us but they managed to squeeze in anyway. There I was sandwiched between them. "You should be out there enjoying the show."

"So should you," I said in the nicest way possible. There's no way anyone in their right mind would ditch an AC/DC concert to sit with me. 

"We thought we'd take a break," the man's friend said. He smiled in a friendly way but something about him unsettled me. Similar to the interest the blond man showed me but more sinister. He kept it hidden behind a smile. "What's your name again?"

"Hannah," I mumbled. I really wished I hadn't sat there.

"Interesting name," he commented. He was eating from a bag of potato chips. He would wipe the crumbs off on his jeans and reach in the bag for more. I shrunk into myself. "Not very many of those around."

Just wait. In the future there will be so many Hannahs that five kids in one class will respond with 'here' during attendance. Felt kind of nice being the only one for a while. 

"Want a chip?" he asked, holding the bag out.

"Uh...."I looked inside the bag to see not much other than dust. "No thanks," I said. The man took the bag back and lifted it to his mouth, pouring the crumbs in. The blond man stayed rather quiet. 

"You know this band for long?" he asked. 

"A couple weeks," I said. 

"Groupie, huh?" he asked, smiling. I cleared my throat and shifted uncomfortably.

"Yes," I said, not letting him see how nervous I was. "Journalist too."

"Oh," he said. "That's not as fun."

"Journalism's not bad," the blond man shrugged. I was thankful he finally decided to join in on the conversation. "Unless they take what you say and twist it to fit their image of you."

"I hate that," I said. "So many of them want nothing more than quick money and they'll steer conversations to center around gossip and rumors and they make the guest uncomfortable."

The blond man nodded and the man with the chips crumpled up his bag. "Anyway, about the groupie thing." I sighed. Well, I wasn't ashamed to be a groupie. Might as well own up to it. "Do all groupies sleep with the band or is that only some of them?" he asked. "Because I feel like some of them are only there for the music."

"I'm here for the music," I said. "Sex doesn't interest me."

Both men stared at me. 

"You're an odd one," the man with the crumpled chip bag said. 

"It's not that odd," I said. It was time I defended people like me! "Lots of people aren't interested!"

"I haven't met any," he said, giving me a cunning look. I could feel my lips turn into a pout. "Can't say you're really dressed like a groupie." He looked me up and down. I was wearing a simple t shirt with jeans and my leather jacket. "Dressed more like a roadie or something."

"Come on, mate," the blond man said, thumping his friend on the shoulder. "Don't listen to him, you look fine." Adrenaline rushed through me as I got a bit more pissed off with my company. I wanted to leave and I felt trapped. 

"You agree me with, though, right?" the man asked. "The best groupies show off a little more." I didn't try to hide the glare I directed at him. I wanted him to feel every ounce of annoyance. "What's under all that, hm?" He nudged my elbow. I had it. I just fucking had it!

"Gonorrhea!" I yelled, getting the attention of a few very unfortunate passers by. I stood up and let the two men reflect on their imposition while I found a place to sulk and blow off steam. I found a closet filled with boxes and extra equipment and slammed it after me, letting everyone know I wanted to be alone. I sat down on the floor and buried my head between my knees. I wanted to scream. What was the matter with some people? Who thinks it's okay to ask something like that? 

The blond man seemed uncomfortable too and I saw him punch the other man's arm before I left. Probably thought he blew whatever chance he had of catching my attention. Not that my attention was anywhere but at one man who at this very minute was onstage mooning the audience. 

Of course not.

I stayed in there for a long time. Stelle didn't want to talk to me and the boys were busy. The roadies I didn't know well enough and some certain guests were overstaying their welcome. Hiding out in here seemed like the best idea. I sneezed a few times and my allergies began to act up. It was an old and dusty closet and nothing in here looked like it had seen the light of day for months. I wouldn't have been surprised if this closet was some kind of hidden passage to Narnia or some shit. 

Not that I needed any more adventures. 

After what felt like several hours of holing myself up in this place I heard the door open. I looked up and saw none other than Cliff come in, his bass in one hand and a broken strap in the other. He didn't see me at first and I watched him rummage around for a new strap. "You scared me," he said finally seeing me. 

"Hello, Clifford," I mumbled. He looked behind him then back to me. 

"What are ya' doin' in here?" he asked. He looked exhausted from playing the concert and was probably wishing he had sat down first before looking for new straps and finding me instead. 

"Hiding," I admitted. 

"From what?" He came a little closer and knelt down. I felt like a child being caught by an adult after hiding from the wrath of their parents. Only I was the wrathful one. "Or...who?"

"Just some old friend of the band," I said. "He didn't tell me his name but I know his hobbies."

Cliff frowned and looked at the floor. I don't think he knew what to do with me. "Well...why don't ya' come out of there an' sit with me an' Phil? Ya' don't mind us, do ya'?" he asked. I smiled. "We'll jus' be wringin' the sweat out our hair."

I laughed. I felt better already. "Alright," I said standing up. Cliff tossed the broken strap somewhere in the closet and kept looking for a new one while I left to find Phil. I kept my eyes peeled for the blond man and his plus one just in case they tried to 'apologize'. It was a stupid thing of me to say. I'd never had an STD in my life. And now they would probably spread the word and I'd get cornered and taken to a clinic and....I started laughing. I was such a little stinker. But hell, if it kept creeps away from me, then I had every STD in the book.

I found Phil pulling the tape off his fingers and tossing the bits into a sticky pile. He looked up at me. "Hey, kid," he said. "Don't mind me."

"I won't," I said and sat down. No sign of Stelle either. Maybe she and Angus went off to....I couldn't finish the thought. Besides, she was dating Janis. Stelle was no cheater. And Angus was no mistress. 

And I had no right getting jealous!

After Phil got all the tape off his fingers he turned in his chair to a little sink that was tucked away on the counter behind him. He washed his hands and dried them on an already soaking wet towel. "Anythin' I can help ya' with?" he asked. 

"Some company would be nice," I shrugged. Before Phil could ask why Cliff came back with a new strap and started fixing it to his bass. 

"Found one," he told me. "Hope ya' didn't mind, Phil, Hannah needs a distraction," Cliff said. "Had a nasty run in with a nameless guest." Phil nodded slowly, unsure if he believed it. 

"Nah, don't mind," he said pulling out a pack of smokes. He set it on the counter and lit one. The men were quiet and I didn't want to disturb them. Quiet company was more than I could have asked for. "You an' Stelle goin' to any parties tonight?"

"Not me," I said. "I'm turning in."

"Not a bad idea," Cliff said. "But we've got friends comin'. Good friends," he said when I sighed. "Not nasty ones like the one you met."

"What happened with this guy?" Phil asked. I cupped my hands together and wondered how best to explain it. 

"I was just uncomfortable," I said and left it at that.

"Well you're with us now," Cliff said. "Stretch out, get as comfortable as you want." As nice as the offer was I wasn't about to 'stretch out'. I still had Bon's key in my pocket. If the band was seeing some friends later I could just find his room again and spend the night there. But the last time I tried Bon almost killed me and I didn't want to keep bothering him. May as well spend an awkward night with Stelle, waiting for the day the newspapers would roll in, announcing the death of an American civilian. 

That was sure something to look forward to.