BILLET-DOUX ✦ CLASSIC ROCK

14 - jimmy page ²

Requested by the kind NocturnalMundane ! I hope this is what you wanted, dear! This is written for a female reader due to the mentions of pregnancy and children.
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Christmas had arrived too quickly for your liking. You had hardly felt its presence sneak up on you until snow had begun to fall and your kids started compiling their lengthy wish-lists. Work pulled you this way and that, keeping you busy and tired, as you desperately tried to scrape up enough money to make rent each month.

With no help from your rat of an ex-husband, you worked every shift you could. You spent most of your time interviewing musicians and up and coming artists for a local magazine.

Between posing questions and writing out an acceptable article, you were constantly swamped with work. It didn't help that the holidays were coming and your boss wanted demographics for every band for posterity leading into the next year.

When you had been accepted into college, journalism had been your major and you had hoped for employment at a big news outlet. Your low-paying job working at a cheesy gossip magazine that sold mostly to horny teenage girls was not what you had planned at all.

Often times, you disguised your name at the bottom of the articles you wrote – they were no true example of your talent, and you couldn't stand to see the expression on potential employers' faces when they saw you authored The Days and Times of the Most Handsome Rockers.

But unfortunately this was your reality, and you wanted to get today's interview over with so that you could pop by the shops on your way home for last minute gifts. You collected your notebook and other writing materials, taking the subway to your scheduled meeting area. They had given you the parameters of the project nearly two weeks before: straightforward questions and musical inclinations.

The group's name was Led Zeppelin, one you had only vaguely heard of mentioned on television programs. From what you gathered, they were spectacular in ways no one had seen before. You were curious to know how and from where their inspiration came.

Boredom and the faint wisps of anxiety prompted you to read over their names again. True to your nature, you had researched Led Zeppelin, getting the base information – enough to conduct a polite and thorough interview. There was Robert Plant, John Paul Jones, John Bonham, and Jimmy Page.

Jimmy. The name struck a chord within you, but you weren't sure why. It sounded so familiar. You doubted that you knew Jimmy personally, there were plenty of people with that name, and surely you would know a great deal more about Led Zeppelin if you knew Jimmy personally. You kept telling yourself that for the remainder of your ride, even as foggy thoughts swam about in your brain.

Dark hair and green eyes, a scrawny body. There was a flash of... something. You remembered a boy of that stature being pushed around by schoolboys, and you had befriended him. The scar on your left arm was delivered to you from a scuffle with a few bullies, with you and the Scrawny Kid on the defensive. That had been so long ago... barely secondary school, if that.

You didn't have much more time to analyze the name, because your stop was announced on the loudspeaker and you were forced into the throng of people rushing to get out of the underground. They bumped and jostled you, one man slamming into you so hard that you crashed into the railing. The collision broke open a scab on your forearm, nearest to the old scar.

Your son had wanted to play football with you, and you had earned that cut while trying to defend your goal. If you were somewhere quiet, you would have allowed yourself a wistful smile at the fond recollection. The people around you wouldn't let you rest for that long, and soon you were pushed along with the crowd onto the street.