A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall

Chapter I: Death on Two Legs

This story is dedicated to my dearest friend. It wouldn't exist without her.

1985

My heels clicked against the floor, my stride that of a woman on a mission. I clutched my bag securely to myself. Precious cargo crinkled around inside. The backstage pass hanging around my neck swayed back and forth. I passed a cracked and dirty mirror on the wall before giving myself a quick glance. 

A leather jacket, a tiny miniskirt, and an even tinier leather garter.

They had to let me in. If I couldn't get to that man I didn't know what I was going to do. 

I had a plan and it couldn't fail. 

Swaying my hips as I walked I stepped up to a very tall and very large security guard and put on my best smile. His expression meant business and so did mine. Even with my heels I still didn't reach his shoulders. He scanned me up and down with a gruff look, probably thinking I meant nothing but trouble. With the way I was dressed, he wasn't wrong.

"What?" he asked. I slung my bag over my shoulder holding it close, making sure to flash my backstage pass so he knew I was legit. 

As sweaty as my palms were I kept my cool. "I was wondering if you could help me with something..."

**********

After walking down endless hallways and my feet acclimating to plenty of blisters, the man led me to a brown door with a silver knob. There was nothing about this door that screamed who it belonged to. Anybody could have passed right by without the slightest clue. 

But right now I wasn't just anybody.

"He's not in yet, don't expect he will be for a while," the man said with a sigh. "You can wait inside but I wouldn't get your hopes up." I tested the knob and it opened smoothly. With dainty steps I walked in under the watchful eyes of the security hawk. "Don't break anything," he said before leaving me alone. 

Making sure he was gone, I closed the door and took some time to admire my new room. There were a few guitars next to a large case made specifically for touring. An Esky sat in the corner next to a chipped up folding chair. A beat up and smelly old couch leaned against the wall, a mirror hanging on the other side of the room. The couch was covered in magazines and white fluffy towels. The room smelled like lingering smoke. On the table were white foam cups and a large pot.Out of curiosity I took the lid off and was hit by a wall of steam. Replacing the lid I explored further into the room. 

In the corner was a small closet. There was no door, only a curtain hung with iron rings. I pulled the curtain back and saw a dozen hangers. There was a pile of clothes on the floor; jeans and a t-shirt and an old denim jacket. 

A little light bulb went off in my brain. 

Why sit out in the open like this when I could surprise him? As long as I was here I might as well make one hell of an impression on him. I stepped inside the closet and pulled the curtain shut. It reeked of something but I didn't know what. After years of experience I learned that's just the price of going backstage. Stubborn, rancid smells that take days to leave your clothes. But it was all worth it. Worth it for the price of seeing one man in particular...

He couldn't possibly refuse the special contents in my bag. The perfect drug. 

I fixed my scrunchies so my pigtails hung correctly. Pulling out a compact mirror I glanced at myself as best as I could through the poor lighting. Zit free for once and eyes sparkling. My feet ached in my heels but I couldn't give up now, not when I was so close. 

With just my luck, it was only ten minutes before I heard the dressing room door slowly creak open, then close. 

"Hello?" his voice called. I covered my mouth with my hands in case I should squeal in excitement. I couldn't give myself away. Not yet. I heard his footsteps walking around the room. "Uh...I don't really know how to tell ya' this..." I turned my ear toward the curtain to hear better. He sounded nervous. "Ya' know I'm really flattered an' all..." I heard him stop, then walk, then stop again. His voice came from all areas of the room like he was looking for someone. "But...ya' know I've kinda got someone back home, ya' know? So whatever it is you're offerin'...ya' know, I can't really take, ya' know?" His voice got closer and closer to the closet. My heart raced and I trembled where I stood. "So if there's nothin' else I can do for ya'...I'll have to ask you to leave-" Right at that moment he pulled the curtain open. His eyes widened. "Hannah?"

"Angus McKinnon!" I yelled tackling him in a hug. We stumbled away from the closet, his strong arms wrapped tightly around me. After months of staying at home while he was on tour, I was finally able to hug my beautiful boyfriend. I towered over him in my heels and I started to wish I had just taken them off in the closet. But seeing the condition the floor was in, I figured I made the right choice.

I buried my face in his hair. It had gotten much longer since the last time I saw him. It was a bit wet from playing a two hour show. I blushed a little as he wasn't wearing a shirt but I didn't mind. I wrinkled my nose and smiled. 

"You stink," I mumbled. 

"Oh, pardon me," he said mocking offence. "When I was told there was a scantily dressed woman in my room waitin' for me I didn't think to have a bath on the way over." We giggled a little and then he sighed. "I've missed ya'."

"I missed you too." He finally pulled away from me and looked me over. 

"Jesus, no wonder they let you in," he muttered. "All dolled up for me?" 

I followed him to the couch and we sat down. Angus grabbed a towel and hung it around his neck. "I have a pass," I said holding it up. "But just in case...I wanted to look the part."

"Well, I'm not complainin'," he shrugged with a smile. "Sure is a sight for these sore eyes." He hung his arm around the back of the couch and I leaned into him. My plan worked without any mishaps. Angus rested his head against mine. "Now uh...the guy that brought you here..." he said quietly. "He said somethin' about you carryin' substances?" My face broke into a Cheshire grin. Angus nudged me a bit. "What's that about?"

Sitting up straight I opened my bag and dug around inside. Angus watched me, his hands folded on his lap. With a giggle I pulled out two bags of English Brekkie tea. 

The perfect drug.

Angus beamed. "Ah, love, ya' know jus' how to tickle my fancy," he said taking the bags in his hands. He took a pair of white foam cups off the table. "Let's get at it, then."