How Not To Be A Groupie

Chapter Eight: The Python

"Still sittin' there?" Bon asked looming over me. I looked up to see him smiling. He tapped my head with his finger. "I coulda sworn I told ya' to mingle."

"I did," I confessed.

"Did ya'? Who?"

I pointed at the man with my pen. Bon turned to look at him and waved him over. I slid further down my seat. The man walked uneasily toward us. "Hey, Bon."

"Martin," Bon said. "Met my friend, have you?"

"Yeah, I guess you could say that..." He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Gemini," he said waving at me.

Bon looked at me. Then looked at Martin. Then looked back at me. I gave him my best and most subtle wink. "Oh, right! Gemini!" Bon said snapping his fingers. "Slipped my mind." He gave me an obvious wink in return. I looked over to see Malcolm whispering something to Angus. Be still my beating heart, two Youngs in one room. Angus looked over at me a few times and crossed his arms. 

Great. Now he knew my "real" age. Like he was one to talk.

I looked back to see Bon looking at me expectantly. "Huh?" I asked. 

"I was jus' askin' how your day went," he said sweetly. Martin still looked a bit uncomfortable. Served him right. 

"Fine, good," I said. 

"Good," Bon grinned. "Mine was spectacular." He took a drink. Malcolm came up to our little group. 

"Bon, I need a word with ya'."

"Mal! Have you met our new friend?" Bon gestured at me and I wanted to hide my face behind my writing. "She's a groupie journalist."

Malcolm looked me over. "Hi," he said quickly and Bon followed him over to a corner so they could talk in private. Martin walked away from me. 

I think I started something I didn't mean to start...

Angus was talking to Cliff and Phil was peeling tape off his fingers in the corner by himself. Incredible. A room full of people and yet I still felt alone. 

I looked over at Malcolm and Bon. Malcolm had a look of concern on his face while Bon listened. They looked at me and Bon shook his head. What the fuck were they saying about me? I'd give anything to know! Was I about to be destroyed or what??

Bon was smiling and fluttered his fingers at me. I waved back giving a pathetic smile. They both came back over to me, pulling up chairs. "Mal, this is Hannah Ruth. Or...apparently Gemini," he said grinning.

"Hi," Malcolm said holding his hand out for me to shake. Would you have blamed me if I started bawling right there and then? I'd never forget this moment as long as I lived. I shook his hand and he smiled. "'m Mal."

My heart was doing back flips. I couldn't speak. I was frozen. I turned into a statue or something, they'd have to wheel me out of here on a gurney. 

"Don't be shy, Mal only bites troublemakers," Bon said. 

"Yeah," Malcolm agreed. "Don't worry, darlin', we're harmless." My hands shook, wanting desperately to write but knowing I needed to wait until they had enough of talking to me. "Bon tells me you're new around here? The scene, I mean?"

"Yeah," I said nodding. 

"We saw ya' around last night but Bon sorta staked his claim," Malcolm said as Bon rolled his eyes.

"You could have come up an' said hello. Sheesh, get a load of this guy," Bon muttered to me gesturing at Malcolm. 

"You stayin' around nearby? Or are ya' leavin' soon?" I wasn't sure how to respond to that. Malcolm shook his long hair out of his face. "I know you stayed with Bon, I'm sure he'd love to have you over again."

"Ah, sorry, I can't tonight," he said. "I promised a dear friend of mine they could stay over tonight an' I haven't seen 'er in years, ya' know? But I'm sure Mal would be happy to host ya', right, Mal?" Malcolm shrugged.

"Yeah, sure, could use the company. Unless you'd rather stay somewhere else."

What the fuck would you say in a situation like this? The opportunities were simply falling into my lap. Bon must have cleared the air on what I told Martin because Malcolm looked a lot more relaxed. Martin kept glancing at me though. Maybe nobody had told him I lied. "She's a writer, like me," Bon said. "Told her she could write about us, like. You said freelance, yes?" 

"Yeah," I said, my voice squeaking. "I write about music." I winced. They were teaming up. Trying to break the truth out of me. I couldn't let my will shatter.

"Never know, Mal, might one day see us in the paper," Bon said winking at me. 

"You're already in the papers, Bon," someone in the road crew said as he walked past. 

"Yeah, but not by this little one." Bon nudged my knee. "Hey, Mal, she looks like a dancer, doesn't she?"

"Uh..." Malcolm scrutinized me. I sat perfectly still. "I guess, sure." Bon grinned. 

"Will this be the night of the seven veils?" he asked. I fought back a smile. 

"No," I said crossing my arms. "I told you, I need tea and music." Bon sighed, pretending to be disappointed. 

"Whatever you say. Well, I gotta get goin', gotta call a cab. Friends are waitin'. See ya' kid," Bon said as he left Malcolm and I alone. Malcolm shook the hair out of his face again. I wanted to study every detail but it would have been too weird. But this man wasn't around in my time! I wanted to preserve every memory I could. I settled with shyly staring at the floor. 

"So you...askin' questions, or what?" Malcolm asked nodding at my notebook. 

"I guess so," I said. "It's not a real interview or anything. I'm just curious." Malcolm looked towards the backdoor. 

"Might be a bit quieter on the bus," he said shrugging. "Ya' won't have to write down every time I have to shush someone."

He had a point. 

"Sure," I said as we both stood up to go outside. I couldn't feel any eyes on me this time. Maybe this place was a lot busier than the other one. Or maybe Malcolm didn't draw as much attention as Bon. 

At least Malcolm still had all his clothes on.

I followed Malcolm up to the bus, much like I followed Bon last night. I was taller than Malcolm, if only by an inch. Bon walked a lot slower than Malcolm did. Malcolm looked like he had a plane to catch. He climbed the steps to the bus and offered his hand to help me up. There was nobody else on it at the moment but I knew that wouldn't last long. Even the driver was on a smoke break.

He led me further and further to the back of the bus. I stepped over fallen cigarette butts and one crushed can of Coors. There was a sectioned off area with a long couch surrounding a table. There was an ash try sitting on it and a deck of cards. Malcolm lit up a cigarette and sat down at the table, gesturing me to follow suit. I sat across from him and set my notebook and water on the table.

Where the hell do I start?