A N G E L (Roger Daltrey)

Eleven

Janice's POV

That night was a blur. Nancy and her mother took me home to get some of my things. While we were there, Roger called.

I told him what had happened. He listened to me cry, and then I gave him Nancy's number. He said he would call me there as soon as he could.

Edith offered to move me into the guest room, but I didn't want to be alone. Instead, I opted to squeeze onto Nancy's twin bed with her, and Nancy being the amazing friend she is, was glad to have me.

We laid on the skinny mattress together. Nancy had herself protectively wrapped around me, one hand rolling the cut edge of my t-shirt back and forth between her fingers.

"What'd you do that for?" She whispered.

"Fashion." I replied, melancholy.

"Looks good. Just different. New and unexpected, I guess."

Silence loomed over us again for a few moments until Ringo started crying to be put in the bed with us. I leaned over and scooped him up, letting him curl his tiny body under my chin.

We fell asleep like that, wearing our day clothes and laying on top of the blankets, the lights blazing.

I jumped awake from a nightmare about two hours later. The jolt woke Nancy, too.

"What time is it?" She asked, her eyes still closed against the blinding overhead light.

"I dunno. We fell asleep in our clothes, come on, let's put on our pajamas and go under the blankets."

Nancy groaned and put her hand over her face, letting her eyes adjust to the light.

Slowly and sleepily, we undressed and put our pajamas on. Nance flipped the light out and we burrowed under the covers, cuddling close. Ringo splatted out on a pillow above our heads and purred quietly.

In one day, my life had been completely turned upside down—and I had no plan B.

- - -

Roger's POV

I worried about Janice all night.

The boys knew there was something wrong with me, it must've been written all over my face.

"What is it now, Rog?" John had asked gruffly.

"It's Janice—" I began, but he cut me off.

"You're still hung up on that little girl? C'mon, I've never seen you so hung up on a burd y've met all'a once."

"Her mother's passed away, John." I shot bitterly. "Her mother's passed away and I don't think she's got anyone else but the girl she was with when we met her. And she's too young yet to be completely on her own. She didn't even have time to prepare." I sat down on the edge of the low table in our hotel room and ran my hands over my hair.

"Roger, I hate to sound like an arse here, but that innit your problem to deal with. We've got bigger fish to fry than a little girl with a dead mother." John shook his head and pulled a cigarette out of his breast pocket, lighting it up.

I jumped to my feet, seething.

"That's horrible of you. That's really fucking horrible of you." I stepped towards him, which made him take a step back. "Her fucking mother is dead, John, I don't care if I'd never even met her, I'd still be upset if anyone's mother had died because that's basic fucking human decency."

"Hey, take it easy..." John looked down and eyeballed me warily, smoke curling from between his lips. I might not be the biggest of men, but I can whoop an arse any day.

"And stop calling her a little girl!" I exclaimed. "She's a woman. You're making me sound like a bloody pedo. Is that what you think of me, John? You think I'm a filthy pedo? Huh?" I raised my hand and watched as he flinched away before I even had the chance to strike.

Pete burst out of the bathroom then.

"Daltrey! Back the fuck up and sit the fuck down. And Enty, you're a sorry excuse for a human being. Now please, I'm trying to have a shit in peace and I can't do that if you're about to kill each other."

He disappeared back into the loo and slammed the door shut.

"I'm going to take a walk." I spat. I headed for the door, but then whirled around and stamped on John's very expensive shoe for good measure.

"Ow! Hey, this shoe costs more than you're worth, Daltrey!"

I scoffed and stalked out into the hallway. I needed to go downstairs and find a phone.

This was a pretty easy task, and I dialed the number Janice had given me.

"Hello?" She croaked. Her voice sounded hoarse, like she'd been sleeping or crying. Or both.

"Oh, I didn't wake you, did I, love?"

"Huh-uh, no, but I haven't been awake long at all, maybe about fifteen minutes or so." Her American accent had a hint of southern twang playing around its edges, which I found to be mesmerizing.

"Okay, good. What time is it there?" I sat on the little metal bench by the phone.

"Quarter past nine in the morning. How bout for you? Where're you at today?" She yawned into the receiver.

"I'm in Minneapolis, it's aaaa," I scanned the room for a clock, "quarter past eight here. An hour earlier exactly."

"What're you doing up so early?" She balked.

"It wasn't my idea, it was Pete's. But honestly I couldn't sleep anyways because I was worried about you. Are you okay? Do you have a place to stay? I know you planned on going to university, are you still going to be able to do that?" My questions tumbled out one after the other.

Janice sighed. "Yeah, I'm with Nance and her mom and dad right now. I'm not feeling so good, but I'll be alright. As for school, I hadn't even thought about that yet. I guess it'll have to wait until I have the money now. My mom was saving up to help me pay half, but she didn't put the money in the bank because she doesn't trust banks. I have no idea where that money is. Or if it ever existed to begin with, really."

I could hear the stress mounting in her voice.

"I'm sorry, Jan, I didn't mean to get you thinking about all that." I sighed heavily, thinking myself.

"Who're you talking to, sweetie?" I heard a woman's voice on Janice's end.

"It's, uhhhhh," she drawled, "someone. I'll tell you after I'm off the phone."

I chuckled.

"Janice," I began, "do you wanna do something crazy?"

"Depends." She replied.

"This leg of the tour ends in three days and doesn't begin again until the 25th. Would you like to run away to Chicago with me for a bit?"