Jon Bon Jovi had given up everything for a chance to see stardom, including his highschool sweetheart Amelia Sambora.
Now as Jon approaches the most important and most dangerous moments in his professional life, Amelia has a way of making it back in...
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12th September 1987 / New York City
Amelia was starting to feel the effects of such a long touring break. Living in a large house was a blessing but could also be rather boring when her boyfriend was occupied. She’d exhausted her library of classic novels and had even resorted to reading some of Jon’s boring non-fiction books.
Sometimes she noodled around on the piano until Jon got fed up with the constant clanging of the keys. She couldn’t even blame him for shouting; her playing was enough to send poor David Bryan into a coma.
She wasn’t bored, per say. On the contrary she was quite content to live the rest of her life on such an estate. But when the weather was dreary and there was no chance of running, walking, or exercising, paired with Jon’s absence on several phone calls with work-related business, Amelia found herself wishing she had a few more hobbies.
And friends.
As she dawdled around the house looking for some odd thing to entertain herself with, she heard a pair of voices from outside the front door. A quick peek through the living room curtains revealed two young women dressed in Bon Jovi shirts with hair wilder than her boyfriend’s.
Each took turns in giggling and prodding the other to knock on the door.
Fans at his door, Jon wouldn’t be impressed. Thankfully he was on the phone to his mother in the other room.
Amelia opened the door against her better judgement. Jon had told her he shouldn’t be afraid of his fans, now was her chance to meet a pair of them directly.
“Oh!” one of them squealed, jumping backward. Neither could have been older than sixteen; one still had their braces on.
“Can I help you?”
She tried to curb her smirk at their excitement.
They were cute, admittedly. She knew how stupid she was at their age.
“Holy shit,” the first girl squealed. “Is he home? Is Richie there? I’m so sorry, we were just-“
“Well,” the other interrupted, “The papers printed his address and we didn’t believe it. We wanted to see if it was real…”
“Jon’s busy at the moment and he doesn’t take kindly to visitors showing up at his private property.”
She spoke gently to them. Telling them off wouldn’t gain much, they were nothing but foolish and harmless teenagers.
