How Not To Be A Groupie

Chapter Six: Breakfast

I looked everywhere for something to write on. I didn't want to write on his song lyrics or anything. I could tear another page out of the phone book but that still left me to find something to write with. Surely a poet like Bon kept pens around somewhere. 

I found a joint in between the couch cushions. Nice.

Before I could write out a note saying I had left and thanking him for taking me in for the night, he came up behind me. "You're up early," he said.

It was actually around eleven in the morning. But I didn't tell him that. "I was just leaving," I said. 

"Ya' don't have to go so fast, you can stay awhile," he said fluffing up his wild hair. His eyes were sleepy but still sparkling. "If ya' still want to write about the band ya' need somethin' to write about." That was true. "An' it's not every day I get company such as yourself."

Bon truly was King Charming.

I didn't know what to say. He was right. I wanted something to write about and leaving would only cut my chances of running into them again. They could leave the country tomorrow for a world tour and I'd never see them again. Mission failed. Not to mention I didn't have a place of my own to stay at. 

But it also didn't feel right imposing on Bon's living space, temporary it may be. I was just some lost little puppy who followed him home. I stayed the night, now I could scram. But maybe he didn't see it that way. Maybe he saw potential in me, not just as a groupie, but as a journalist. 

Or...a fanfiction wolf in journalist's clothing. 

I must have been thinking for too long. Bon shrugged and went into the kitchen yawning, coming back with a glass of water. "Do you have work today?"

"A quick show downtown. You goin'?"

I didn't think I could afford it. "I don't know," I said. 

"Be swell if ya' did. An' ya' still haven't really met the other guys, ya' know? I'm not the whole thing, I'm jus' the flash in the middle." He smiled. His eyes were foggy. "But if I can't sway ya'..." 

"I'd probably better go...." I was growing more and more hesitant. He might be my one chance to fulfill my teenage dream. 

"If you insist," he said following me to the door. Seeing him stumble behind me I felt I should leave and let him catch up on sleep. And take care of that hangover. He escorted me out the door and tapped me on the shoulder. "Wait right there."

I stood there, his door swinging slightly, and watched him disappear back into the room. Someone's footsteps came around the corner and I heard the elevator ding. Bon came back with a piece of the phone book and a pen, scribbling something down. He handed it to me. 

"That's the place we're playin' at tonight," he said pointing at an address. "If ya' decide to come." He pointed at the next one. "That one is the hotel we're stayin' at for now, that's this one. This is my room number." He pointed at the door behind him. "This one is the hotel room phone number, you can call it anytime you need a friend or somethin'. As long as I'm home." He smiled. 

"Thank you," I said putting the paper in my pocket. He lightly nudged my shoulder.

"See ya' around then."

"See you," I said as he closed the door.

I could have danced on the spot. I turned to walk down the hall seeing an old couple standing there watching me. I realized what it looked like; a shirtless man saying goodbye to a young woman dressed for the bars in his hotel room. Like the awkward mouse I was, I scurried in the opposite direction.