Cowboy Diaries - a Jon Bon Jovi fan fiction

35: Home Sweet Home

6. May 1992, New Jersey

Jon's  POV

My eyes were set at the windshield vipers of my Corvette, washing away the floods of rain that came down. It couldn't get more cliché. You came back from your vacation spot with brilliant weather and as soon as you were on your way home, everything changed. Like the country wanted to bring you away from getting back here. 

"What a welcome." Dorothea noticed. I just sighed. The traffic lights proceeded to stay red and I felt myself zoning out. That only was until Dorothea dragged me on the arm and already a second later I heard a car honk.

Annoyed as I was I stepped on the gas pedal and on the ride went. The streets became more familiar. We passed some big cities. I started to get tired from the stop and go traffic. I couldn't wait to get back home. 

"I'm freezing." Dorothea stated. 

"I told you to change into your sweater. But you insisted to wear your new t-shirt." 

"I know. I know. I should've believed you. But it was so hot in the airplane and had been hot all the way before. It was quite the culture shock." 

I believed that. From touring I was used to such sudden changes and usually knew how to prepare, but I noticed it had been a long time since touring already. It didn't even feel familiar anymore, and the long car ride after flying for hours tired me out. Maybe I just got older.

I couldn't help but to worry about how the next tour would be. If I could put up to all that stress and the small time frames for another time. And I certainly wasn't prepared to be parted from Dorothea again for months. 

The closer we got to our house the more worried I got and my mood changed for the worse. Thoughts of touring started to enter my mind more and more. We hadn't prepared anything yet. We even didn't know what to do about our bass player. Hugh only agreed to recording our studio album, but he didn't feel confident enough to perform in front of thousands, and even on some smaller shows we already played I noticed he couldn't really loosen up. 

He may be a good player, but he certainly wasn't the best performer. It was one of such days where I really missed Alec. Even though I didn't think of him daily anymore and I had learned to life with the lifelong pain.

"Everything alright?" 

"Huh?" 

"You seem so worried." 

"Oh it's nothing. Just tired and missing the weather." 

I didn't want to discuss my problems with her right now. It would only dampen the mood any further. I wanted us to enjoy the last bit of free time we got. 

"How about McDonalds?" I changed the topic. "We won't have anything left in the fridge which you can still consume." 

"McDonalds is fine. But let us hurry. I'm getting tired too. And it's already so late. See, it's getting dark."

As I finally pulled in in our driveway an hour later I couldn't help but feel a bit of relief. The air was quite strange, unfamiliar even, but I didn't care. I just wanted to fall into my bed. But then I noticed a ton of letters on the kitchen table. Nothing unusual. 

I sometimes received letters from fans, even though I tried to keep my location a secret. But people here knew me. I didn't go out all disguised or with bodyguards. I was just a local person minding my business like everyone else. But some real fanatics tend to follow me home, some more discretely than others.