In the mid-1980s, the Monkees are hot stuff again after MTV has reintroduced them to a whole new generation of fans. The executives at their old recording label wants them to record some new tunes for a 20th anniversary album and go on a reunion to...
Michael's eyes followed her around the set of the latest movie he was producing, Square Dance, though he tried to disguise the trajectory of their gaze with his customary pair of dark sunglasses. The young woman who held him in thrall, and had since the day he shook her delicate hand ("Nice to meet you, Mr. Nesmith. Thank you for stepping in to help finance my debut film. I'm so grateful.") was the film's protagonist, Winona Ryder, a dark-haired, ivory-skinned fairy sprite with delicate bones and a winsome expression. She was short of stature but could command the entire vista of the camera's lens when she stepped before it. Mike was positive she was going to be a huge star.
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He tried to convince himself that his constant, enthusiastic appraisal of her was purely professional, that his admiration was simply that of a soothsayer foreseeing the future of a great talent in its nascent stages. But there was more to it than that, and the almost obsessive feelings he had made him distinctly uncomfortable and uneasy. She was young, no more than about sixteen, he reckoned, and had the looks of a girl blossoming into a woman but not quite there yet – very fetching. Puppies were like that; you looked at their big feet and the loose, extra skin on their bodies and could tell what they were going to grow into and how much development they had left before they were full-grown. Winona was like that, too. Her face would continue to thin out, her body would continue to lengthen, her eyes would sink deeper into the planes of her face and her breasts...
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Mike scolded himself for allowing his mind to even contemplate that part of her anatomy. She was just this side of jailbait! Yet it wasn't so much a sexual yearning he had for her, though that was part of it. It was her innocence he craved. He had been with so many hardened, calloused, crusty dames by now. Even the ones who pretended and dressed like schoolgirls didn't fool him anymore. They might as well have been men in drag.
He'd look at Winona, with her dark hair, short stature and sincere eyes, and could almost swap her in his mind for Wendy when they first started dating. He would think back to those days, when things were simple and they were both fairly innocent and clueless. He hoped to God he wasn't really in love with Winona, that she was just an avatar for what he had lost and couldn't have back, or what he was striving to retrieve and hadn't yet successfully obtained. But one thing he knew for sure – he was gone for her and he was powerless to resist the pull of her attraction.
