How Not To Be A Groupie

Chapter Five: Bon Scott

Would my family ever find out I was gone? As in, one of them tries to contact me and I'm missing? Or is it more like Narnia where they wouldn't even be aware that I left?

What about changes to me? Will my hair grow while I'm here? My nails? Is my monthly cycle still a thing? Or has everything been put on pause and I just...don't age?

And the photograph thing. What if someone takes a photo of the band and I happen to be next to them? What if I'm scrolling through my phone back home and see a photo of myself from 1978? 

Would someone from this time recognize me if they saw me again in the future? Or would it have been too long? Would I recognize them? What would I say if I did?

Has this ever happened to someone before? Or am I the first? And what makes me so special? Why have I been chosen out of all the people on Earth? 

And most importantly...why's Bon smiling at me like that?

We were walking down the hall to the hotel room while I asked myself millions of questions. I couldn't tell if Bon knew I was having a mental struggle or what but he remained positive and friendly about it. 

The hotel was very small. Some fire alarms on the wall, an ice machine, stains on the carpet, the usual. One light was flickering before burning out. 

Hope that's not an omen...

Bon found our room and unlocked the door letting me inside first. By the looks of the room, the band had been staying at this hotel for a while.

Pages and papers on the little coffee table next to a mug of stale tea that was surely leaving a ring. I couldn't read any of the loopy writing on the papers and I didn't want to snoop anyway. There was a phone book lying open on the floor and a few pages were torn out of it. The couch was covered in an open suitcase with clothes spilling out of it. There was a book on top of it. It looked to be about Ancient Rome. 

What confused me was the guitar case lying in the corner. It looked too big to be an electric guitar, perhaps an acoustic? Bon must have noticed my staring. "I used to fiddle around a bit on guitars, ya' know?" he said standing by a kitchen table. "Never really played or anything, I was a drummer, ya' know? But it helps to have it around when you're writin' songs." He smiled at me. It was a lovely smile. That was something everybody agreed on.

While Bon messed around in the kitchen I found myself fascinated by the room. The television was on the floor with long antennae sticking out of it. There were knobs to control it and I wondered if it were black and white or color. There was a rotary phone sitting on a little stand by the wall. The long spiraling cord plugged into the wall. 

I was enchanted. I picked it up and held it to my ear, hearing a monotonous tone. When someone picked up and said "hello" I almost dropped it and scurried to put it back on the hook. 

Bon didn't notice.

There was a bed around a corner that aside from being unmade was pretty clean. I backed away from it, wondering just what exactly Bon's intentions were...

"Hannah?" he called out. I came back to the kitchen where he had new cup of tea. "Oh, there you are." He nodded at the stove. "There's tea if you want. I noticed you didn't drink your delicious beer."

"I don't drink," I admitted. He smiled.

"I do."

I helped myself to a tiny little bit of tea to be polite. He went through all this trouble anyway. With my cup I went over to the table where Bon was sitting and sat across from him. I took a sip. It was black and bitter. I love a good milky tea myself. Lady Grey, Prince of Wales, Scottish Brekkie...