A N G E L (Roger Daltrey)

One

Janice's POV

I couldn't even begin to believe it. My favorite band, The Who, was touring America for their new album "Tommy", and I was going to see them.

"Tommy" had become my favorite record the second it was released. The band was coming to Cincinnati, only about an hour and a half drive from me, and it was the week after my 18th birthday.

Nancy, my best friend in the world, had surprised me with the tickets.

Tonight was the night. Nance and I stood in my room, getting ready. Well, I was getting ready. Nancy already had herself put together. She was wearing a (quite obnoxious, though I'd never tell her that) floral dress and big chunky shoes. Her blonde, feathery hair kissed the tops of her shoulders and round, orange sunglasses were perched on top of her head. She was watching me pace around my room in nothing but my skinny black thong.

"C'mon, Janice, hurry!" she huffed, scuffing her heel against my shag carpet.

"Hey, careful with my carpet!" I cried, digging through my closet for the millionth time. I yanked out a pair of bell bottom jeans and jumped into them, wiggling my hips. I whirled around to Nancy. "Maybe I ought to just go like this." I teased, shaking my bare chest at her.

She put her hands over her eyes. "It's not Woodstock, Jan, really. Now hurry or else we aren't going to make it! And I know you don't want to miss Roger, now do you?"

The sheer mention of his name sent the blood rushing to my face, and I spun around on my toes, pulling my top drawer open and flinging things out until I landed on a plain white tube top. I tugged it on over my head and sashayed over to my mirror. I gave my long brown hair a shake and mussed it up a bit to give it some volume. Then I stepped into my own pair of platform shoes.

"Alright, let's go!" I squealed.

Nancy jumped up off my bed and I grabbed my macrame purse on the way out.

"Bye mom!" I hollered, though I knew she was probably passed out drunk downstairs.

We dove into Nancy's blue slug bug and slammed the doors, starting our mini road trip to Cincy.

I opened my bag up and started doing my makeup. I dabbed some concealer on my blemishes and dusted some powder over my face. I dug out my busted up rouge and put some on my cheeks. Then, using the rearview mirror, I lightly smeared some blue eyeshadow onto my lids with my fingers.

"Dammit, I've gotta see in there to drive!" Nancy laughed, grabbing my head like a claw machine and shoving me away.

"Fine, whatever. I don't need a mirror anyway." I started liberally applying mascara.

"Christ, you got Revlon's whole stock in there?" Nance marveled.

"Yeah, what about it?" I swiped on some pretty, neutral lipstick. "Gotta look good for Rog."

Silence fell over the car.

Then we both burst into laughter.

"Cuz he's gonna notice some random girl in the crowd. Dream on!" Nancy waved one hand in front of her face, as if to dry laughter tears.

"Well he might!" I said defensively.

"He might." She smiled at me, suddenly serious. "Y'know, I've kinda got my eye on the drummer."

"Moonie?" I gaped. "You've got a thing for Moon the loon?"

Embarrassed silence.

"And you didn't tell me till just now?"

"Well...."

"Well nothing! You like Moonie! Nancy likes Moonie, Nancy likes Moonie!" I clapped my hands like a deranged seal.

"Jan wants to do it with Roger!" She mocked in a high-pitched voice.

"That's not what I sound like!" I shrieked.

"Dah nah whet ah sawn liiike."

"Shut uuuuup!"

"Sheh ehhhhhp!"

I reached over and smacked her playfully.

"Oh hoho, you're so stunned!" She said. She reached out to smack me back and then swerved sharply, tossing us sideways. Horns honked at us. "Look, you almost made me miss the exit."

"Shit, sorry. Anyway, do you wanna listen to something?"

"Sure. Put the radio on."

The next hour passed quickly, and my heart sped up as we pulled into the lot of the Cincinnati Music Hall.