Richie was sat on the platform where the drums were, observing Jon, some meters away, at the piano.
He was writing some words on a sheet and tapping some notes from time to time. He was smiling. Richie sighed, and suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. David sat next to him and opened a can. He showed Jon: "It's been a long time he hasn't had so many ideas. He writes all the time, I think our second album will be completed within three months." He shrugged. "And I have an idea about the source of so much inspiration."
He was pretty proud of his sentence, and turned to watch his friend following the lack of reaction. "Are-"
The guitarist got up. "Guys." David frowned. "Guys!" Jon turned to the insistent tone of his friend. Richie passed his hand through his air. His heart was already heavy, but what he was about to do added. "We need to talk."
-
You turned and entered the lonely street. You breathed deeply and put the guitar back on your shoulder.
You proceeded to the small garage; your aunt was already there, preparing stuff. You looked outside one last time; the sunset gave the sky a light pink colour.
"y/n! Look."
Your aunt made you enter and started blabbering about technical stuff.
You were half-listening to her.
She tied the watch around her wrist and laughed about how the guy at the shop she bought her stuff in was weird, or how she avoided eating too much to not get sick, because apparently the other day...
Why? Why was she so happy while you were a complete mess?
It was unfair from you, but it pissed you off. You held the strap of the guitar case tightly. She approached you and you felt her tone getting a bit more serious; she was certainly telling you information about the travel.
She put her hands on your shoulders and you came out of your thoughts.
You had to tell her how you felt.
You opened your mouth to-
"And that's why I tell you goodbye."
You stopped.
What?
She caressed your cheek and took something from her back pocket. You were reactionless; she had to take your hand and put it in yours. "Look. In the letter. I wrote 'Let's go home', right? And I think you found yours." She pointed at the machine in your hand, that was nearly identical to her watch. "It's a transmitter. There is a keyboard on the screen, so you can-"
You jumped in her arms. Tears were rolling down your cheeks. You wanted to say something. You had a thousand things to say... Yet nothing came out. She looked at you, knowing. She took your hands: "Now go. I believe you've got something to catch back."
-
Jon swiped the audience with his gaze. In about fifteen minutes, they will perform their new song in front of all of these people, but he wasn't stressing. Anxiety was not the feeling he felt at that moment. He turned to the right. The last time he did that before playing, it was... Never mind. Richie was tuning his guitar, then raised his head, feeling his best friend's gaze on him. His smiled, with a hint of sadness, knowing.
A little further, David was repeating his parts on a keyboard. It was a new song, Jon wrote it some days ago, they only repeated it twice this afternoon, but he really insisted on playing it, and didn't change his mind. No one resisted.
-
You were running. The evenings of mid-September were beginning to get cold, but the blood in your veins was boiling.
You were approaching the festival; you could hear the music from where you were. You looked at your watch; 7.43pm. The clock was ticking. You crossed a street without watching, and a car had to stop short to avoid you, honking. You shouted "Sorry!", putting your hands up in the process, and carried on running.
You arrived at the entry of the festival, that guards were keeping. Shit. A ticket. You needed a ticket to enter, but didn't have any of course.
You tried to go in without watching the staff, but a huge arm popped up in front of you. "Hey, if you want to enter, show me your ticket."
Your mind was racing. "A ticket?" You blinked. "But isn't it free for musicians' families?"
The guy exchanged a look with his colleague. Ok, it wasn't, maybe, the first time they heard that.
"Yes indeed. But if you are, you have been given a special pass that you should have on you."
"Well that's the problem actually. I forgot it."
The guard sighed. "Please miss, leave now or I will have to call the security."
You didn't know what to do. "I swear to you, please inform the staff inside, just tell them I am..." Then it hit you. "Tell them I'm Richie Sambora's twin sister. I'm the sister of Bon Jovi's lead guitarist, he will perform on the stage in some minutes, right? I don't want to miss my brother's concert, please. Just tell them, I'll wait here. Please."
Maybe it is because your story was somehow coherent, maybe it is because you looked very desperate, or because he didn't want to get tired insisting with you, the guard said: "OK, I'll do it."
You stopped yourself from jumping in his arms. After many "thank you", you went a bit on the side and tried to see the stage. The very last notes of the song played, to let place to applauds. A pre-recorded voice informed it was now a five-minute break, and then another group will take the stage. You saw the security guy take his talkie, and put it back on his buckle a minute after. He turned to you and nodded.
-
"Mister Sambora?" Richie was repeating the song in his head when a security guard popped next to him. "I'm sorry to bother you, I'm sure it's nothing, but there is a lady asking for you at the entry." David, who was next to him, chuckled. "Richie, what did you do again?"
The guitarist smirked and looked at the staff member: "Uh... Did she give a name?"
David gave him a tap. "Like you remember their names..."
They laughed.
The man coughed. "No, but she said she was your twin sis-" He didn't have the time to finish; Richie got up so fast he nearly pushed David on the ground. "What did you say?" The man opened his mouth to repeat, but got cut by Tico shouting, some meters away near the stairs that lead to the stage: "Guys we start soon, we could go on the stage already for arrangements?"
Jon, who was sat on the first step of the stairs got up and followed.
Richie turned to the man: "Make her enter. She probably forgot her pass, make her enter now, or she will miss the show!" The staff member got a bit surprised from the hurry the musician seemed in suddenly, and finally moved. The guitarist caught him back: "Bring her at the very front of the stage. Now!"
-
"And now please welcome Bon Jovi!"
The crowd began to cheer up to the entry of the band on stage. In the distance, you heard the sound of drumsticks being slapped together, and then the music started. You soon recognized the characteristic keyboard.
On the streets where you live
Girls talk about their social lives.
They're made of lipstick, plastic and paint
A touch of sable in their eyes.
You knew it would take some minutes for your request to be heard, but time seemed to have been tripled. Time... Fucking time. It has been playing a lot with you lately.
But you were living in another world
Tryin' to get your message through.
No one heard a single word you said.
They should have seen it in your eyes
What was going around your head.
And what if they didn't believe you? Maybe the security guy didn't do anything. Or maybe he called the security. And the guys? Why would they believe you after all? It already took time for you to understand what was happening. Maybe they won't want you anymore.
Ooh, she's a little runaway
Daddy's girl learned fast
All those things he couldn't say.
Ooh, she's a little runaway.
Maybe... Maybe it was a bad idea after all. When you thought about it, they had plenty of reasons to turn their back at you.
On the neon Broadway signs
She don't really mind
It's only love she hoped to find
"Miss Sambora?" You raised your head. The security guy had moved towards you. "Please follow me." You didn't know what you expected, but a shiver ran down your spine. All hopes had left you in one minute, but now you were completely lost. You absent-mindedly followed the staff member in a path next to the crowd. The festival wasn't that big, but people were there in number and piled up. You heard the guitar solo start. In some seconds, you came close to the stage. "Your brother asked us to place you just before the stage. There is a lot of people, so push a bit." He opened a barrier and moved a bit some people to help you pass. Some pouted, but you managed to find yourself a place at the very front. It's only when you lifted your head that you noticed where you really were: your torso was nearly against the stage. In fact, Richie was just one meter away from you. He was still in his solo, concentrated. Jon was next to him, moving on the beat.
You needed to attract his attention. He had to know you were there. Now.
You shouted his name, but of course, he didn't hear it.
At least you tried.
He moved to the mic, closer to the edge.
No one heard a single word you said.
They should have seen it in your eyes
What was going around your head
The guy next to you had a can in his hand. You shouted at him: "Is it empty?"
He turned to you, a huge interrogation point painted on his face. You sighed and took it from his hands.
It was empty.
You crushed it. He is not even two meters away... you can do it. You aimed at his legs, and touched him.
Ooh, she's a little runaway-
He carried on, but frowned seeing the crushed can at his feet. He then made the trajectory of it with his gaze and glanced in your direction.
Then he saw you.
It was in the middle of the chorus, where the four others were still singing. David and Tico, at the back of the stage, didn't notice anything and carried on singing. You're not sure that they heard Jon stopped due to the poor back-up. Alec was at the opposite part of the stage, he didn't change his attitude either.
Richie, who saw the can episode, followed Jon's look and saw you too; he knew it. He simply smiled and suddenly headed to you. You could read "Come!" on his lips. He reached out to you and caught you under your armpits to lift you on the stage. You grabbed his shoulders and pushed on the edge with your feet to propel yourself, put your guitar – who was on your back since the beginning – on the side and advanced to Jon. He looked at you, mouth agape.
In the background, the three others carried on singing, and the crowd was still cheering; you weren't even sure people after five meters in the public noticed what was going on.
Richie took the main mic and sang louder. He proceeded to the centre of the stage, leaving you alone... In front of a lot of people.
But it didn't matter, they weren't existing anymore. You came in front of Jon. What to say? Well... Was there anything to say after all? You opened your mouth, but he mouthed: "I know."
You wanted to say it, so you caught him by the shoulders and approached your mouth to his ear, to cover the surrounding sound.
"I'm sorry."
He put his hands on your sides. "I'm sorry I didn't say it earlier. But you know, the other day you said you hoped I would find a place I could call home." He tightened his grip. You removed your head and looked at him. You simply nodded.
He took your face in his hands and simply kissed you.
Richie looked at you and pointed:
Ooh, she's a little runaway
Daddy's girl learned fast
Now she works the night away
You smiled through the kiss. You weren't running away anymore.
Fin.