It Feels so Good, so it Must be Right.. (A Led Zeppelin fanfiction)

It's an inviting lifestyle, don't you think?

 As soon as the young singer had his pants on, he heads towards the front door of his hotel room. He holds onto a washed out, tie-die t-shirt in one hand, and a suede jacket with tassels hanging off the arms and sides in the other, his tired mind set on solely making it out the door before Jimmy were to leave without him. The creaking of the floorboards beneath his feet carried down the hallway, meeting every ear of anybody within at least ten feet, behind closed doors or not. The very unsafe looking hardwood floor eventually turns into a musty, green shag carpet at the end of the hall. The dirty carpet covered the landing as well as the entire staircase; for the most unappealing shades any eye has seen, the colour goes very well with the faded mustard yellow of the wallpaper lining the room, which happens to be an eyesore as well. It doesn't take a genius to come across the conclusion that the carpet was placed there solely so visitors didn't complain about the stairs that seemed like they would fall apart beneath your feet at any second. With a step of faith, Robert started down the stairs, feeling uneasy about the creaking and cracking noises sounding every time he puts his foot down. He takes a deep breath, silent prayers that he'll live to preform tonight, running through his mind, his posture immediately relaxing once he takes a final step down onto the landing at the bottom of the staircase. Without any thought but 'I'm alive and girls are waiting', Robert took off in a flurry of golden curls and suede, out the front door of the lobby in seconds flat. This being the closest to a near death experience he had ever come to, he had just practically survived the worst, in his mind. Several bounds later, he reaches the backdoor of the new black sports car that Jimmy had just rented out for the week.

Jimmy wouldn't get caught being chauffeured around even if it meant he'd get paid for it, so instead, he rented a car he could drive on his own, without needing anybody to tag along against his will. The band only had one car for all of them to use anyways, and the raven haired guitarist found is frustrating to try and get a girl home with him, with the rest of the band was sitting beside him, either cracking jokes, or trying to steal the girl from him. One night he brought a girl into the car with him and Robert was so relentless with the jokes and wooing, the young girl eventually just went with Bonzo, who was too drunk to even notice her cuddling up to his side and calling him her “teddy bear”.

Robert ran around to the passenger seat and climbed it, nearly catching his jacket in the door as he slammed it shut. Jimmy glanced over at him in silence, watching the golden god as he tugged his tie-tie shirt over his head, his curls puffing out once his head surfaces through the neck hole. The engine revs once the car is started and before Robert can comment on how nice it sounds, Jimmy has already turned and exited the hotel parking lot and is now speeding down the main street of Hollywood, California.

“So, where did ya plan on goin' after this?” Robert asked as he finally tugged his jacket on, adjusting the collar so his hair isn't tucked in around it.

“Eh, I dunno. Thinkin' maybe check out a club or two 'round here. Sound good to you?” Came Jimmy's response, after several seconds of mapping it out in his mind.
“Sounds brilliant to me.” With a nod of his head, the blonde man turned his gaze out the window, watching the passing scenery.

A man with a tangle of dreadlocks flowing down his back parades down the street, shouting something about “Peace, love, and harmony”. It isn't rare to see a man or woman protesting against anything now a days. Things are beginning to take a turn for the nature lovers; you know, the ones that people call “Hippies”. Happiness is guaranteed when you pick up a lifestyle such as theirs. Free love, drugs, music, etc.. All you have to do is promote peace, drop all of those chemical based hair and beauty products you use, stop eating meat, and love everybody. Once you hear what they have to say about it, it makes you want to change into hemp and go live out in a tent with a bunch of other lovers of peace.

It was the life to live during this time. Almost like a style that if you weren't a part of, you would be ridiculed and shunned. Robert was always one for keeping up with style, so of course, why wouldn't the sight interest him? A man, going out and fighting for what he believed in was certainly a sight to see, and is most definitely something to aspire to be.

“Eh, whats got you in a daze this time, hm?” Jimmy nudges Robert in the side, dragging him by force, out of his day dream. It was more often than not that Robert's mind would wander to a place where Hippies roam free and music was around every corner. The rest of the band was beginning to grow tired of his constant state of unawareness, but they never really knew what it was that was on his mind. They just assumed he was tired, or that he had gotten distracted by yet another girl.

“Ah, I'm just thinkin'. Ya saw that man back there, yeah? The one that was marchin' 'round shoutin'. I didn't hear what he was sayin', but he certainly seemed t' be passionate about it.” The dazed blonde said in an airy voice, almost as if he isn't all there; his head probably still in the clouds.

“Yeah, yeah.. He probably was. Ya know how those tree lovers are. Always have somethin' to say. Gotta wonder what they do when they all group together that makes them that way. Must be some kinda drug they keep t' themselves or some shit.” As he speaks, he pulls up on the side of the street, parking his car right across from the small club. Before Robert can respond, Jimmy has opened his door and gotten out, already collecting his guitar from the back seat. “I'll be right back, yeah? Don't you go runnin' off with any hippie strangers before I get back, ya hear, Percy?” He let out a teasing chuckle before he turned and jogged across the street, his Les Paul held tightly in both hands; one on the neck, and the other gripping onto the body.

Less than five minutes later, or so the watch strapped to Roberts wrist stats, Jimmy arrives back at the car empty handed. Without a word, he climbs into the drivers seat and turns his weary gaze to the on looking blonde next to him. “Hey Jim.. What do ya say we go find one of those Hippie camps or whatever they call it? A commune? Yeah, a hippie commune. Figure out what they've got goin'. It could be just for the evenin'. We'll be back in time for the show. It could be lots of fun, don't ya think?” Robert asks, in almost a pleading tone as he sits up a little, a hopeful look glistening in his pale blue eyes. “Please? Ya don't get to do somethin' like that everyday, an' we won't be in California forever..!”

The guitarist studies his companions eager demeanour for several moments before he emits a quiet chuckle. With a nod of his head, he starts the car again, his lips twisting into a grin. “Ah sure, why not. Could be fun, I s'pose. Get t' meet some of those hippie girls an' guys that always crowd the papers..”

Robert jumps back in his seat in excitement, a now childish grin taking over his face, dimples prominent on his cheeks. “Yes! Ya won't regret this, Jim, I promise ya.”