My face hit pillow and my entire body relaxed. I couldn't for the life of me figure out why nights out had to last until so early in the morning. Me, I'm clocking out at midnight. Stelle went into the living room with a bowl of yogurt and berries and picked up the phone, setting a pad and pen into her lap. The sound of her voice calling whoever almost lured me back to sleep.

Almost.

My mind kept drifting back and forth from thought to thought about the past. Things such as, could I change the past? Would me being here have any serious repercussions in the future? I wouldn't dare kill anyone but...what if I did? What if something I did jeopardized the life of someone in this time that wouldn't have happened normally? What if I saved someone's life? I didn't think I could save Bon's life...it would be a long time before the incident happened and I'd be waiting around here doing God knows what. I couldn't last that long. And was saving Bon's life the right thing to do?

In normal circumstances, of course it would be. If I had been really truly alive in the seventies and eighties, saving Bon's life wouldn't even be a choice. But he died. And life went on. Could future events be tampered with, and was it what I came here for? 

Thinking about Bon's passing kept me from falling back asleep. It was sad before I time traveled and now that I got to know him better it'd be even worse. I couldn't imagine how his family felt, or how the band felt. I couldn't tell anyone. I couldn't let the fact slip. 

The same went for Malcolm. I knew there was probably nothing I could do for him. And I couldn't let anyone know what happens. 

The boys had so much fun yesterday.

Why did any of them have to die? And so young?

It wasn't fair. None of this was fair.

Stelle's voice grew louder as she walked around the living room. "Yeah, yeah, I get it...mhm...." I sat up on the bed and rolled up my pant legs. I felt around on my shins. I couldn't see anything, and I couldn't feel anything. None of that all too familiar scratch of fuzz and bristles. No hair growth after three days.

Impressive.

So my hair wouldn't grow, that answered that question. And my nails appeared to be the same way. I'd have to wait a bit longer for the others. Getting out of bed I went to the bathroom to freshen up. When I came out I saw Stelle had hung up the phone and was scribbling something down. Her left hand was moving wickedly fast, mirroring my right hand when I followed along in interviews. Her handwriting was neat too, and I backed off so I wouldn't accidentally read any of it. 

"My boss wants lots of progress while I'm here," she told her pad of paper. "But he's going to have to wait because I'm on holiday today." Looking over what she wrote she drew a little smiley face in the bottom left corner and set it aside. "Alright, tell me how it went and don't leave anything out."

How what went? The interview? I sat down on a stool and crossed my legs. "It went well," I said. "I felt more prepared this time." 

"Get a lot of dirt?" she asked with a smile.

"I wouldn't say dirt...." Cliff wanting to live somewhere tropical was the closest thing to "dirt" I could think of. 

"He didn't rough up his band mates or anything?"

"No, he didn't," I said. As a matter of fact, he said they were great. Stelle sighed and snapped her fingers.

"I knew he wouldn't," she said. "He's too sweet for that." She looked me over. "You slept in your clothes?" she asked.

"I didn't have anything else," I said. She nodded.

"Right, right, you didn't bring anything...." I felt my palms sweat as she stared at me. "May I ask why?"

"It was...." What could I say now? I didn't exactly have time to pack my shit before I was taken away by the hurricane. "It was a last minute trip."

"Very last minute," Stelle said tapping her pen to her chin. "Very last minute indeed...." I swallowed. "Well, you'll just have to borrow some of my things until you can get your own."

I frowned. "You don't mind?"

"Nah, I like having a woman to share clothes with. My sister and I used to do it all the time." She waved her hand at her suitcase. "Take your pick, I don't mind."

There was a trick to this, I just knew it. The phone rang again while I stayed rooted to my spot. Stelle answered it, grabbing her notepad again. 

"Hello? Yes, this is she." She saw me still sitting there and waved me off. "Go on, take your pick," she whispered.

I stood up and went to her suitcase feeling like a jerk for rifling through it, even with her permission. The clothes were all really pretty but none of them were really my style. I was very picky with my clothes and these weren't anything I would have bought for myself. Not to mention they were a little too big. 

Stelle was a much curvier woman than I was and I knew her clothes wouldn't quite fit right. But if she was kind enough to offer, I couldn't refuse. And I really needed a fresh set. Still, her kindness had me suspicious. People don't just act that way without wanting anything in return.

I finally found a sundress that wouldn't look silly if I wore it for one day. It was just pink and white striped and it flowed when you walked. Stelle gave me a thumbs up when she saw me wearing it and kept listening to whoever was on the phone with her. I decided I'd head back to the room and look through my own notes.

My hand was cramping by the time I was finished writing. So much had happened last night I was worried I wouldn't remember it all. I wondered what the boys would do on their day off. Perhaps make tons of friends with the locals or spend a day on the beach. I wouldn't mind going to the beach while I was here. The weather was perfect for it and so was this dress. I jumped when Stelle squealed and slammed the phone down on the hook. She started running around the hotel room, grabbing clothes and makeup and a couple magazines. "You up for a day out?" she called. I clutched my notebook and came out to see what all the fuss was about. "You can stay here if you want but I'm going out with a friend!"

"Who?" I asked.

Clothes went flying in every direction as Stelle looked for something to wear. I snickered when a pair of underwear landed on her camera that was on the little coffee table. "I haven't seen her in years," Stelle said. "My old friend from university, we were roommates our first year."

I turned my face away as she started changing clothes right in front of me. Still curious about her friend I listened for any more information but Stelle was too occupied trying to squeeze into a pair of jeans. 

"Her name is Morgan Steele, she's a photographer like me." Stelle ran to the bathroom for a quick second and came right back out with a hairbrush. "Only she photographs cities and landscapes and things like that. Sometimes animals." That grabbed my attention. "I think she's here for the Aussie wildlife."

That got my attention even more.

I'd always wanted to see Australian wildlife. Kangaroos, quokkas, koalas, any of it! My mother went to Australia when she was younger and I'd look at old photos of her holding koalas and feel a tad jealous. Imagine seeing a real life wombat! 

Of course, Sydney wasn't much help when it came to wildlife. Koalas didn't frequent the bars and sing at the opera house. But I could dream.

Stelle had a hand on the doorknob looking at me. "You coming or what?"

**********

Stelle and I waited at the bus depot with our snow cones. I got watermelon and was immediately transported to my brother's little league games when I was a kid. They were expensive and I rarely ever got one, but once in a while...

I got to borrow Stelle's heart shaped sunglasses while she brought a pair of regular ones. The glare of the sun was murder. Bus after bus dropped crowds of people off and I waited for Stelle's reaction. Surely one of them would be Morgan. But Stelle remained stoic and flipped through her magazine. "I bet I could make something like that," she said pointing at a crochet top. "You make any clothes?"

"I tried in home ec in school," I admitted. "Ended up breaking the sewing machine." Stelle laughed and I giggled a little. It was pretty silly. She rolled her magazine up and stuck it back in her purse. It stuck out like a loaf of French bread. Another bus came crawling toward the depot and Stelle watched it like a hawk. 

"I think this is it," she said. We watched the bus pull in and sit a few minutes before the doors opened. A small pile of people came tumbling out and none of them looked our way. Even a three man band with guitars and a saxophone came out and none of them acknowledged us. I looked over at Stelle who was looking at the back of the bus. After all the people climbed out, the back doors of the bus swung open. Stelle craned her neck but neither of us could see anything. My snow cone dripped down my chin but I didn't want to miss anything. I quickly wiped it away. Someone set up a ramp from the floor of the bus to the ground. Out rolled a young woman in a wheelchair and Stelle's face lit up. "Morgan!"

"Stelle!" Stelle ran up to hug her friend and I shyly walked over feeling like an intrusion. Morgan had long black hair tied back in a braid and a pair of glasses over her blue eyes. Just like Stelle did when I met her she had a camera around her neck. "It's good to see you, it's been too long!"

"You haven't aged a day!" Stelle said admiring Morgan's youthful face. Morgan batted her lashes. "This is Hannah, she's a journalist for the band I'm shooting."

"Nice to meet you," Morgan said with a smile. I shook her hand. Her nails were manicured and her fingers covered in rings. "That was a long trip from the hotel." She wiped her brow and fanned her face. 

"You want a snow cone?" Stelle asked. 

"Cherry please," she said and Stelle ran to the cart to get one. "You're a journalist?" she asked me. I nodded. "For AC/DC, right?" I nodded again. "For some reason I always think she's shooting the Skyhooks. I'm here to capture kangaroos in action."

"Have you seen any yet?" I asked eagerly. 

"Up north, sure, I've seen a few. I came down south to visit Stelle. Haven't seen her in years." Stelle came running back with her cherry snow cone and Morgan took it. 

"Where to first?" Stelle asked.

**********

We made our way downtown, Stelle and I having finished our snow cones and Morgan still enjoying hers. Stelle and her had plenty to talk about and I tagged along for the ride. It was nice of Stelle to invite me, but I started to feel like I shouldn't have been there. It was their reunion, I didn't need to come. Too tired from the bar anyway. Thankfully I didn't have to talk much. I wasn't exactly a chatterbox on a good day.

"So tell me about this band of yours," Morgan said. Stelle pushed her wheelchair so Morgan could eat her snack. 

"They're a great bunch," Stelle said. "Fun to work with, right, Hannah?" I nodded. "We have another shoot tomorrow at three and then I have to get some photos during their next couple of concerts."

"How long are they in town for?"

"Oh, the rest of the month," Stelle said. "Then they get on a plane and head out." We slowed down to get Morgan's chair over some tree roots that had grown under the sidewalk. Morgan threw away her trash and Stelle let her roll herself. 

"Sounds exciting," Morgan said. "I'd love to follow a band around on tour. Remember when Eddie Cochran came to town?" Stelle put her hand to her mouth.

"I can't believe I almost forgot about him!" she said. "Hannah, get this. We were so excited to see his show that we camped out all night to get tickets and our mothers found us in the middle of the night in sleeping bags..." She started laughing and I grinned. 

"My mum was so upset, she took away my record player for a week," Morgan said. "We were pretty crazy about bands and musicians and the like back then."

"I still am," Stelle said. "I've always wanted a job like this." We stopped at an intersection and waited for the light to change. "Wish you could meet them."

"Me too, but I've got to get back to Queensland," Morgan said. "Oh, you should see them, Stelle, they're much larger in real life." I beamed, remembering YouTube videos of kangaroos fighting or trying to break into houses. They're massive, looking like they bench press four times a week. I wouldn't want to square up with one but I'd love to see a few in the wild from afar. "I've got some great pics."

We reached an arcade a few streets down and went inside to cool off from the sun. I had never seen so many Skee-ball machines in my life. There were some gumball machines too alongside a soda fountain. Morgan headed right for the Skee-ball setup while Stelle was already gushing over the prize counter. I got myself a lemon water with a bit of spare change, making note of how much I had left. I'd have to earn more somehow. 

Before any of us knew it a huge roll of tickets came out of the Skee-ball machine and Morgan collected it all up in a pile on her lap. "Years of practice," she said.

"What, did you have one of these in your house as a kid?" Stelle asked.

"No," Morgan said. "But we did have an arcade down the block."

Morgan won a prize for Stelle. It was a pink stuffed frog with a fabric crown sewn on its head. After a couple of sodas and sightseeing the town, Morgan taking plenty of pictures, we stopped for dinner at a little restaurant on the way back to the bus depot. Morgan's bus would be leaving at eight o' clock sharp. We got a booth and Morgan wheeled her chair to sit at the end of the table. 

"What's your next assignment?" Morgan asked cleaning her glasses. "Both of you."

"Well, after I'm done here I'm going off to Germany for a bit where I think the Scorpions will be. Unless there's a change of plans I'll be shooting them for a couple weeks." Both pairs of eyes turned to me. 

I had to come up with something quick. Something vague. "Whatever happens next, happens. But first I have to organize my notes and write an article out." Stelle nodded.

"Yeah, that makes sense."

"You hoping to make it big?" Morgan asked me. Well....I can't say I'd make it big through Wattpad. The ones who did wrote things like After. I didn't want my precious stories making any money. But maybe one day I could write a real novel. One with original characters and a decent story. Then again, I liked stories where not much happens. Stories that are more character based than plot based. Where everyone sits around in a circle and just...talks. And I can't say people in my time are in the market for that. But who knows? 

"I guess so," I said. But not too big. No billionaire status for me. 

"What about you, Morgan?" Stelle asked. "You want your own magazines? Gallery?"

"Gallery, definitely," Morgan said. "I'd love to have all my work on display. I'm excited for my next project, I'm going to China to see the panda bears."

"Have you been to Africa yet?" 

"Not yet. The office is thinking about sending me to Kenya to see some animals but they also considered Cameroon to shoot the land. I'll take both, I'm not picky."

"Antarctica?" 

"Yes!" Morgan gushed. "I'd love to go there!"

Antarctica always fascinated me. And to think how close we were to it right now...

**********

"I'm going to miss you," Stelle said hugging Morgan. She clutched her new pink frog to her chest. Morgan patted Stelle on the back.

"It was so good to see you," she said. She held her hand out for me to shake. "And it was nice to meet you, Hannah, maybe we'll cross paths again." I smiled. Morgan had been pretty fun company and it was nice to get out and explore the city. It was hot though and the sun still hadn't gone down yet. I was sure I had sweat through Stelle's sundress. 

"Call me whenever you can," Stelle said as Morgan wheeled her chair back up the ramp someone set out for her. Morgan gave a thumbs up over her shoulder and the ramp was taken away, the same man closing the back doors. We stepped back and waited for the other people about to get on the bus before watching the bus take off into the night. Stelle looked at the clock inside the depot through the window. "Shit, we'd better get back. I need to get some sleep before the shoot tomorrow. I'll see if I can get you an interview with the others."