Heading In The Right Direction

Chapter Two

Author's Notes:

If you haven't figured it out by now, by the end of this chapter, you'll see that this Jon isn't quite so in control of all things in his life just as real life gets in the way of all this writing/editing business. And sometimes real life has to take priority.

So the usual weekly updates may have to take a back seat for a little while.

The biggest, biggest thank you this week, goes to Esayel who has managed to squeeze in the beta work for me in amongst the thousands of other things happening.

Also, if anyone is on X/Twitter; I've set up a private page for more personalised notifications of postings and ways to chat with everyone. Being a private page mean that your followers won't be able to see any of my posts in case you don't want to don't want to be seen reading fanfic. All of my fanfic friends are welcome and please feel free to share.

You can find me on ByBneJovi (search for @bonjovifan19831). Hit the follow and I'll follow you back.

Happy reading...and thank you🙏💜

J💕💕💕

Chapter 2

Jon woke the next day, sometime around lunch, with an empty stomach and the mother of all hangovers. He rolled from the nest of pillows and bedding, just enough to partially sit up, stuffing a few of the errant pillows behind him and stared unseeingly out over the city view from the wall of windows in front of him, kicking himself for the fact that he'd forgotten to close the drapes before he'd crashed out.

Scrubbing both hands over his face, Jon let the memories of the previous night slowly seep into his alcohol-fuzzy brain.

"What a trip," he muttered and instantly regretted it, even the sound of his voice grating on his tender brain cells.

Reaching blindly for his cigarettes, Jon tapped one out and placed it between his lips, knocking the lighter to the floor as he replaced the pack on the nightstand. He glared balefully at the escapee item and whimpered like a small animal in pain before giving it the finger.

Unlit cigarette dangling from his lips, Jon fell back into the pillows with a groan.

He was just contemplating dragging his ass into the shower when his phone pinged on the nightstand beside him.

At least I remembered to put it on charge , he thought to himself, pleased to realise even that small achievement.

Gathering his will and his strength, Jon rolled to the side of the bed to unplug his phone. With a last-ditch effort, and forgetting about the smoke in his mouth, he stretched over the edge and snatched his lighter off the floor. When he sat up again the ruined tube of tobacco sat awkwardly in front of his nose. He whined a little in disappointment but straightened it the best he could and lit it.

Bringing his phone to life, Jon opened his notifications and tried to pull his bleary eyes into focus enough to be able to read them.

A few business reminders about phone meetings, possible interviews scheduled, some from his family, and the almost inevitable message from Richie checking in on him after last night.

Are you still breathin? Baby if I don't hear from you before 3pm your time I'm sendin Lema to deal with your maggot-filled dead body and sendin you the bill for hair implants coz I won't have any left!

Jon smiled at that one. Even though the words were supposed to be funny, bad spelling and punctuation included, Jon could still feel Richie's anxiety that he'd done something stupid, behind them. It was nice to know that Richie still had his back...and he'd always have Richie's. Peering through the smoke trail from his cigarette that was dangling from his mouth, Jon sent off an equally darkly humorous reply to allay his fears.