How Not To Be A Groupie

Chapter Thirteen: Phil Rudd

I slept in the next day. It was noon by the time I woke up. Stelle gave me a blanket to use while I slept on the couch. Stelle of course, was already awake eating a muffin. "Morning," she said typing something out on a typewriter. "Working on a report for work," she said. "You can have a muffin."

There was a pretty basket tied up with a ribbon filled to the brim with muffins. Some were berry and some had hard fruit like a fruitcake. I picked up a chocolate chip thinking that was a safe bet. I looked out the large window and saw there had been a traffic accident on the street below. Two cars completely smashed against each other, one of them smoking. A fireman was spraying the cars with the hose. 

To think a time traveler probably could have stopped that...

"The shoot's at three," Stelle said from her spot on the chaise lounge. "My things are in the room if you want to change."

"I can't keep taking your clothes," I said. "I can use something of mine."

"I'll take you shopping after we're done today," she said. "The company I work for can pay for it, they can afford it." Now I was just feeling awful. More than guilty, I felt like a freeloader. Taking the money out of my pocket I counted it out. I still had six dollars left, and barely that. My loose change was slim and I couldn't make any unimportant phone calls anytime soon. 

All the same, I wore my lacy white top and my denim shorts. I had abandoned my necklace lately thinking it would hook on the lace of the top. And as always, I put on my sneakers. 

Now socks were what I really needed. And underwear.

Stelle, makeup done and hair feathered, wore her jeans again and a t-shirt. I'd love for a pair of denim bell bottoms. I wanted to blend in with the time period as much as possible. I felt like my pigtails, although a staple of 2024, stood out in the 1970's. 

But I'd never give them up.

The walk to the shoot was a short one. It was a studio just around the block. I had my notebook with me and a couple of pens so I wouldn't run out of ink. We got there early. Everything was being set up. Lights against a backdrop and a vanity for touch ups. 

Those beautiful men didn't need touch ups. They were gorgeous. 

Stelle had her camera around her neck as usual and a few others were there to snap photos too. I couldn't help but notice another basket of muffins on the table, tied with a ribbon. I wondered if her work had sent them up. "Can we get a bit of lighting over here?" Stelle asked pointing to a spot farther away from the set. "I don't want to blind them."

I found a spot to sit and started writing. The details of the place were...scarce...I barely filled a page with them. There were a few guitars nearby, ready to be used as props. I kept checking the time waiting for the boys to show up. Finally the door opened and in walked Phil.

"Phil!" Stelle said upon seeing him. She ran up to him and he caught her in a hug. I tilted my head. Were we allowed to just...hug people like that? Was I so incredibly shy that I wasn't aware of the pre-established social norms around here? I wish I wasn't so shy. Maybe I'd like myself more. Maybe others would like me more. 

Oh, but that was ridiculous. There was nothing wrong with being shy. And who cares what other people thought?

Only I did.

Stelle brought him over to me talking about whatever. "And here she is!" she said gesturing to me. I stood up and offered my hand for Phil to shake. He accepted it and put his hands back in his pockets. "Hannah, Phil, Phil, Hannah."

"You're our interviewer?" Phil asked looking me over. I felt like everyone in the room knew I was just a fake. Someone was bound to catch on sooner or later. I could only nod.