PROLOGUE: November, 1988

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"Why, yes! I would LOVE to work on your film set! Oh! You don't have to pay me! It's an honor to-"

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, British Airways welcomes you to Manchester, by way of New York City! The current time is 7:32pm, please remain seated and keep the aisles clear until we have parked at the gate!"

God dammit. I may have been kissing serious ass, but that was a good dream. Ugh, doesn't matter. I'm here, I made it to England, the worst of it is over. Nick can't find me, Mama can't find me, and Papa...he knows I'm smart. He knows I wouldn't just...drop out of film school and run off to the UK with no plan. I'd drop out of film school and run off to the UK with SOME plan.

My startling lack of possessions proved an odd blessing. Any time I may have needed for a baggage check was well used attempting to find Georgie. I'd never even been on a plane before, let alone another fucking country and their confusing airport. I eventually managed to spot a familiar set of dark bangs.

"ROZ LANDOWSKI IS ALIVE AND WELL!"

"I KNOW! WE'RE ALL SHOCKED!"

Oh, Georgina Brown. Formerly Georgina Rizzo. But always Georgie. I'm not sure why we've drifted apart in the last few years. Maybe her getting married and moving to England really did change things, even though we swore it wouldn't. Maybe I was so intent on leaving my childhood behind, her moving away was just the excuse I needed.

Georgie released me from a hug.

"You know, I did always say that you had a place to stay if you ever needed it. But I can't say I expected you to finally take the offer when we're on different continents".

After two years in England, Georgie's sharp New York accent had mellowed into a transatlantic warble.

"Does Paul know what's happening?"

"Oh yeah. He's okay with it he's just-"

"Unsure?"

Georgie let out a sigh.

"I mean, he's never met you. He just, knows you from old film reels I've shown 'em".

"You kept those?"

Georgie grimaced.

"Yeah, I'm going to take all the film reels my childhood best friend made and dump them in the river because we haven't been joined at the hip for a few years".

I exhaled with a smirk.

"Well anyway, you picked the absolute WORST time to restart your life. Paul had to drop me off because he already promised his cousin he'd help him set up and pack up for his gig in Warrington tonight. So unless you're in an extreme walking mood, you'd better have cab fare".

"Paul has a cousin in a band?"

"Yup. The Stone Roses. Lead Singer Man Ian is his cousin".

I chuckled at, "Lead Singer Man".

"They any good?"

"Yeah, actually. Kind of punk, kind of funk, but mostly its own thing".

"Right on".

"I imagine you'll be seeing him sooner or later, if only because him and the bass player like to come over and smoke".

I giggled.

"But seriously, you'd probably like them".

"I'll be the judge of that".

Georgie scoffed.

"Oh, Roz. Can't just be a film snob. Gotta be a music snob, as well."

I shook my head in mild disapproval and began to speak.

"Well anyway, I'm tired, my ass hurts from those seats, and I exchanged every dollar I had for pounds, so let's grab a cab back to your place and crash".

"Lovely".

I grabbed my duffel bag and my Super 8. I followed Georgie out of the airport and into the cab. The city drive was equal parts beautiful and tragic, as the poverty and urban decay of it all couldn't help but poke through.

As we passed over abandoned shops and council estates, I noticed one with prominent graffiti. The yellow lettering read, "STONE ROSES".

"Oh hey, that's Paul's cousin's band you were telling me about!"

Georgie rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, they like to do that. Guerrilla marketing, I suppose".

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