Stelle insisted I dress up a little nicer that night. She took me out to some fancy boutique, much nicer than any department store I'd ever shopped at in 2024. I think she was also itching to make a few purchases for herself. If I got paid that much for dog sitting back home, I'd be shopping fancy too. I found a black dress that was ruched to the moon with one shoulder. Surprisingly it wasn't too big though I had a hell of a time getting it on. But it was worth it and Stelle's company very kindly paid for it. 

Stelle bought the rest of the store. 

The pub the boys were playing at that night was called The Lighthouse and it was all the way on the other side of town. We took a bus there and I paid my way. I still hadn't dealt with any motion sickness and for that I was grateful. Stelle was applying lipstick with the help of her compact mirror. Despite the bumps and turns along the way she managed to apply it perfectly. I fiddled with my necklace the entire way. It was gold with a black onyx pendant. I left my other necklace back at Stelle's hotel. It didn't quite match my outfit, and besides, this one was on sale. 

It was dark by the time we got there. Stelle managed to get backstage passes and we put them on. I figured we were walking through the front doors but Stelle led me around to the back. "Come on, haven't you groupies learned anything?" she laughed. 

There were others dressed like us once again. They stood by the door smoking and waiting. Stelle had her trusty camera and I was without my notebook. But Angus would be inside and I'd ask him about it. But only if he wasn't too busy to talk. I looked around for any sign of the Glamour Girls. It was almost too dark to make out anyone. 

There was an ear splitting honking sound and we all turned to see two buses rolling into view. For a moment I thought it was rather late for the band to be getting here but Stelle guessed they were trying to find a better place to park. "Must be pretty cramped in the car park...." The driver of the first bus yelled out to a roadie who then yelled out instructions. I couldn't hear a word any of them said so I focused on my feet instead. 

I hate high heeled shoes. I had to buy the shortest heel in the shop and I still wobbled like a baby giraffe. But...I actually looked sort of cute. And there's nothing wrong with wanting to look cute once in a while. 

"Alright, any backstage goers?" a man asked as he opened the door. The women I saw filed in and Stelle and I followed them. The door swung shut behind us. "Don't touch anything!" the man called.

"Does that include the band?" Stelle asked and we both giggled. Well, I could certainly abide by that rule. Unless it included hugs, then I would have to break the rule in half over my knee. 

We found the dressing room the boys were in. Stelle knocked and it opened. I blushed and immediately looked at the floor when I saw them changing. Like walking into the Playboy mansion. "Hey, you're here," somebody said. Stelle helped me inside and I used her for a guide. 

"Told you we'd be here," Stelle said. 

"Bit early," the same someone said. I finally managed to brave up a bit and looked to see it was Phil. Aside from no shirt, which I was used to by now, he looked okay. The others were just out and about, completely without shame. "Caught us at a bad time."

"Aw, this is the best time," Bon said. Standing before us in nothing but underwear. I clenched my fists to keep from bursting out in nervous laughter. "We don't usually let anyone in yet but you're special." He winked. 

"That's lovely, Ronald," Stelle said making herself comfortable. I stood there awkwardly. Bon left to find his Swiss cheese jeans and I kept my eyes glued to the floor. There were clothes scattered everywhere and a case of beer. Glancing up for one second I saw Angus looking at me and then he quickly looked away. He was putting his tie on. I wanted to ask about the notebook but he looked awfully....busy, just as I thought he would be. 

Stelle probably had to sit on her hands to keep from snapping any photos. 

I found a place to sit and kept to myself. The room felt a bit stuffy. It looked like a backstage theater room. Mirrors with lights around it and everyone had their own place to sit. It honestly looked more like a room for KISS than AC/DC. I couldn't believe a pub even had a room like this. Musical guests must be common here. 

Little by little the clothes came on and I started feeling more comfortable. Drinks were passed around and I declined as usual. All geared up and ready to rock, Bon pulled up a chair next to me and wrapped an arm around my neck, a beer in his other hand. He kept his voice low. "Mal said you got in a rumble," he said. 

My shoulder still ached a bit and I shrugged. "He was hurting Malcolm." I looked around the room for him and saw him with his guitar. I could see the cut on his lip. He didn't look up at us, whether or not he could hear us talking about him. 

"How'd you happen by the squabble?" Bon asked.

"I was just leaving the hotel and I heard it," I said. 

"Ya' hurt at all?" I ignored the pain in my shoulder. It wasn't anything to cry over.

"I'm fine." Bon took a few drinks and tapped his foot on the floor. Stelle found Cliff and they found a lot to talk and laugh about. Phil put tape on his fingers and Angus had come back to play guitar with Malcolm. Once again he looked awfully busy. 

"Hey, still got that stuff I gave ya'?" he asked. "Ya' know, the...room number an' all?"

Well, unless Angus took it out and hid it for me to find..."It's in my notebook," I said.

"Well listen, Bon said sitting up a little bit. "Things can get pretty rowdy around here, an' you've seen it firsthand." I nodded. "Fights aren't common but...they can happen. Or parties that...ya' know...see the sun come up...an' you seem to me someone who likes a nice quiet cup, am I right?"

"Is it that obvious?" I bemoaned. 

"If ever things get a bit too much or ya' jus' want a break..." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a key. "It's a spare, I got the other one on me somewhere...here." I took it from him. And I almost choked on the air. "Jus' pop in an' make yourself at home. The room's pretty quiet. Have the couch, have the bed, have the fridge, have the bath, whatever, ya' know? Plenty of beer an' Jack for ya'."

I can't believe this...I...Hannah Ruth...am holding the key to Bon Scott's hotel room...I've leveled up in the groupie game....how many other ladies has he given a spare key to?

Just my luck, I'll let myself in and see ten others in there. Like the milkman Monty Python sketch....

I hardly knew what to say. "Thanks, Bon."

"Anythin' for a friend. Now let's see about gettin' me another beer..." He stood up and walked to the case on the table. 

"Smile!" I covered my face right as Stelle put the camera up to it. "Aw, come on, you don't want photographic memories of being backstage with the best band of all time?"

Of course I did. But I hated the way I looked in photos. My face was...an interesting specimen whose features didn't translate well to a camera. Every time I saw a photo of myself I wanted to burn it. Nope, I refused to have my picture taken. "No thanks."

"Not one?" she asked. I shook my head, keeping my face covered in case she pulled a fast one. "Not even a candid shot? You don't even have to smile or pose, just sit there." Maybe if I took one she'd leave me alone. And I'd get to have it and I'd burn it soon after. "Please?"

I slowly took my hands away from my face. I sat up as straight as I could. I avoided looking at the lens as well as I could, taking deep breaths and trying to relax. Stelle got the camera ready and aimed it at my profile. I hated my profile. But just one photo, and I'd be done. 

What's taking so long?

"What the..." I dared to look and saw Stelle fiddling with it. "Hold on, let's try again." I returned to looking in front of me and waited for the camera to click. Only it didn't. "What the hell is the matter with this thing?"

"Problem, Stelle?" Cliff asked. 

"My camera's acting up..." she mumbled, trying all different kinds of buttons. "I try to take a photo and the button's stuck, it's never done this before."

A wicked little grin crept up on my face. Could it be possible....? I didn't want to jinx it....

Stelle aimed her camera at a case of beer sitting half empty on the floor. The little click went off and even a flash. "It still works," Stelle said and turned back to me. "Okay, Hannah, let's try it one more time."

I sat up straight and tall and looked away from the lens. And nothing. 

"What on fucking earth is going on with this thing?" Stelle's outburst caught the boys' attention. "It's like it just stops working when I point it at Hannah."

"Maybe I'm too ugly for it," I said. I suddenly felt very giddy. Was it possible that her camera didn't work because I time traveled? Were cameras destined to fail around me? I didn't have to get my picture taken? I didn't have to worry about seeing me in 1978 on the internet? Oh, this takes such a weight off my shoulders!

"I don't think that's it," Stelle said sounding annoyed. She sighed. "Alright, forget it then." I sighed in relief. Stelle kept fiddling with it and walked away to where Cliff stood. I relaxed in my chair and smiled. I counted this as a victory. I rolled Bon's key over in my fingers and looked over to where Malcolm and Angus sat. Angus was once again looking at me and then looked down. Malcolm was talking to him, sneaking glances my way. 

Yeah, that's not obvious....

I tried to ignore them. They weren't pointing and laughing at me so they must not mean to be too vicious. As long as I kept my attention elsewhere, they'd leave me alone. I heard a chair scrape and Angus stood up, coming my way. He was holding something and held it out to me. I acted surprised to see him. "You uh...left this in my room," he muttered.

I took my notebook from him and flipped through it. The flyers were there, Bon's contact information was there, the vintage newspaper was there, and even the pen. Everything remained untouched and neat. "Thank you," I said. 

Angus gave me a nod and a half smile and quickly walked away, back to the chair across from Malcolm. Malcolm and I locked eyes for a split second and it still hurt to see that cut. Who would ever want to hurt these men? A few hushed words exchanged between them and they went back to playing. 

Well that was weird. Angus wasn't that much of a talker but he looked ready to bolt the premises. A man knocked on the door and said it was time to go onstage. Gathering up their things they filed out the door, Angus giving me one last look. His brow furrowed and his eyes shone.

Right away I knew.

He read it.