The food and drinks arrived and everyone dug in. The table was loud with laughter and more stories from the guys. They seemed to delight in telling her every time Jon’s pants split on stage, how he almost had to dress as a girl to get out of a hotel once, and how they all blamed him for their hair in the 80’s. She laughed as much as anyone, but noticed that none of the men provided any salacious stories as might be expected if she wasn’t there. She actually appreciated their respect and understanding that she probably didn’t want to hear about those.
It was approaching three in the morning when the six finally stumbled a bit exiting the café. None were feeling any pain, all using alcohol to aid their sleep that night. Laughing and talking they returned to the hotel and Jon and Amanda said goodnight to quite a few good-natured catcalls from the other men. Richie didn’t join in as much as he knew what was going on.
Getting into the room, Jon fumbled a little with the key as he too was feeling pretty boozy. They stumbled into the room, managed to get their clothes off, and fell onto the bed. Both were asleep within moments.
~~~
The room phone rang at eleven the next morning, waking them from their alcohol-aided sleep. Jon managed to answer the phone, his voice a croak this morning.
“Hey, Jon, it’s Obie. Just giving you some time to get ready for the photo shoot this afternoon at three.”
“Thanks man, see ya downstairs in an hour.” Jon turned to Amanda. “That was Obie, we gotta get moving for that photo shoot. Need coffee and food first.”
“Okay, okay…” she moved out of bed to the shower. Jon called down to room service asking for coffee and was assured the server would just put it inside the room. He joined Amanda in the shower. Neither were hung over, well not much anyway, but both were feeling a bit jet lagged. He couldn’t help but linger a bit over Amanda’s wet soapy form and she noticed his natural male reaction. His eyes darkened as she turned to him. She knew she could help him and she wanted to.
Soaping her hands and him, she used the motions he had taught her to bring him to release. He slumped against her shoulder afterwards, kissing her neck softly, murmuring to her his thanks. Her actions left him drained but relaxed and he was staggered that she did all she could for him no matter when or what.
He raised his eyes to hers. “I really love you, Manda.”
“I love you too, honey.”
~~~
They were on their way downstairs at the end of the hour, the first to arrive as Jon had a thing about being on time. The other men ambled in within the next ten minutes and joined them for coffee and breakfast. Again, she saw them order and eat large amounts of food and wondered for at least the tenth time how the hell they all stayed in shape. Later that afternoon, at the photo shoot, she got an idea.
The guys were posed and moved and posed and moved so many times she was getting tired just watching. They smiled and laughed with the photo crew, but by the time 4:45 rolled around and they were getting into the limo to go meet with the press, she had an idea of the toll this took on all of them. They were quiet on the short ride, regrouping, getting ready for the rather bold questions the London press could ask.
They approached a building where a large crowd had gathered. Everyone except Amanda started cursing.
“How the hell did this get out?” Jon demanded of no one in particular.
The car was swarmed as they exited and in the crush Jon lost Amanda’s hand. He was swept along by security as she was pushed further back by the crowd. He turned and caught a glimpse of what he thought was her dark hair and with that he entered the building, believing she was close behind. Security immediately stopped the remainder of the crowd from entering the building and once again Amanda found herself in a familiar situation.
The guys were ushered quickly through corridors toward the main press room. They were being hurried so quickly that Jon, in the lead, hadn’t yet had a chance to turn to find Amanda. Hugh was bringing up the rear and he did see that she wasn’t with them. He called out.
“JON!”
Jon came to an abrupt halt. He was tired of being pushed around like cattle being led to market anyway.
“What?”
“She’s not with us.”
“FUCK!”
One of the organizers of the press conference came up to Jon then.
“Excuse me, Mr. Bon Jovi, we’re starting to run behind.”
Jon turned to the man. “We’re missing someone.”
Richie’s phone rang. “It’s her” he said to Jon and then answered.
“Richie, I didn’t want to bother Jon again, but they won’t let me in.” He handed the phone to Jon.
“Hey baby. Where are you?”
“Jon, I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m outside the main door. They won’t let me in.”
“Don’t worry, someone will be right there.”
He turned to the organizer. “She’s outside the main door. Her name is Amanda Matthews. She has very long dark hair. Get her inside immediately.”
The man took one look at Jon and then at the other band members, all of whom had their arms crossed stubbornly and decided not to argue with rich rock stars. He got on a two-way radio and called up to the front. In much less than five minutes Amanda was being rushed down the hallway towards the guys, a security guard holding her arm, almost pulling her along.
Richie took a step closer to the organizer.
“Listen you asshole, when he said immediately he meant for YOU to move, not to rush her!”
Jon turned to the guard. “Take your fucking hands off her.” His voice was soft, but glacial. The guard did as he was told. Jon moved up to Amanda.
“You okay, baby?” He took her into his arms, hearing her breathing a little rapidly from being so rushed.
“Yeah…just a little…outta breath…”
It was approaching three in the morning when the six finally stumbled a bit exiting the café. None were feeling any pain, all using alcohol to aid their sleep that night. Laughing and talking they returned to the hotel and Jon and Amanda said goodnight to quite a few good-natured catcalls from the other men. Richie didn’t join in as much as he knew what was going on.
Getting into the room, Jon fumbled a little with the key as he too was feeling pretty boozy. They stumbled into the room, managed to get their clothes off, and fell onto the bed. Both were asleep within moments.
~~~
The room phone rang at eleven the next morning, waking them from their alcohol-aided sleep. Jon managed to answer the phone, his voice a croak this morning.
“Hey, Jon, it’s Obie. Just giving you some time to get ready for the photo shoot this afternoon at three.”
“Thanks man, see ya downstairs in an hour.” Jon turned to Amanda. “That was Obie, we gotta get moving for that photo shoot. Need coffee and food first.”
“Okay, okay…” she moved out of bed to the shower. Jon called down to room service asking for coffee and was assured the server would just put it inside the room. He joined Amanda in the shower. Neither were hung over, well not much anyway, but both were feeling a bit jet lagged. He couldn’t help but linger a bit over Amanda’s wet soapy form and she noticed his natural male reaction. His eyes darkened as she turned to him. She knew she could help him and she wanted to.
Soaping her hands and him, she used the motions he had taught her to bring him to release. He slumped against her shoulder afterwards, kissing her neck softly, murmuring to her his thanks. Her actions left him drained but relaxed and he was staggered that she did all she could for him no matter when or what.
He raised his eyes to hers. “I really love you, Manda.”
“I love you too, honey.”
~~~
They were on their way downstairs at the end of the hour, the first to arrive as Jon had a thing about being on time. The other men ambled in within the next ten minutes and joined them for coffee and breakfast. Again, she saw them order and eat large amounts of food and wondered for at least the tenth time how the hell they all stayed in shape. Later that afternoon, at the photo shoot, she got an idea.
The guys were posed and moved and posed and moved so many times she was getting tired just watching. They smiled and laughed with the photo crew, but by the time 4:45 rolled around and they were getting into the limo to go meet with the press, she had an idea of the toll this took on all of them. They were quiet on the short ride, regrouping, getting ready for the rather bold questions the London press could ask.
They approached a building where a large crowd had gathered. Everyone except Amanda started cursing.
“How the hell did this get out?” Jon demanded of no one in particular.
The car was swarmed as they exited and in the crush Jon lost Amanda’s hand. He was swept along by security as she was pushed further back by the crowd. He turned and caught a glimpse of what he thought was her dark hair and with that he entered the building, believing she was close behind. Security immediately stopped the remainder of the crowd from entering the building and once again Amanda found herself in a familiar situation.
The guys were ushered quickly through corridors toward the main press room. They were being hurried so quickly that Jon, in the lead, hadn’t yet had a chance to turn to find Amanda. Hugh was bringing up the rear and he did see that she wasn’t with them. He called out.
“JON!”
Jon came to an abrupt halt. He was tired of being pushed around like cattle being led to market anyway.
“What?”
“She’s not with us.”
“FUCK!”
One of the organizers of the press conference came up to Jon then.
“Excuse me, Mr. Bon Jovi, we’re starting to run behind.”
Jon turned to the man. “We’re missing someone.”
Richie’s phone rang. “It’s her” he said to Jon and then answered.
“Richie, I didn’t want to bother Jon again, but they won’t let me in.” He handed the phone to Jon.
“Hey baby. Where are you?”
“Jon, I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m outside the main door. They won’t let me in.”
“Don’t worry, someone will be right there.”
He turned to the organizer. “She’s outside the main door. Her name is Amanda Matthews. She has very long dark hair. Get her inside immediately.”
The man took one look at Jon and then at the other band members, all of whom had their arms crossed stubbornly and decided not to argue with rich rock stars. He got on a two-way radio and called up to the front. In much less than five minutes Amanda was being rushed down the hallway towards the guys, a security guard holding her arm, almost pulling her along.
Richie took a step closer to the organizer.
“Listen you asshole, when he said immediately he meant for YOU to move, not to rush her!”
Jon turned to the guard. “Take your fucking hands off her.” His voice was soft, but glacial. The guard did as he was told. Jon moved up to Amanda.
“You okay, baby?” He took her into his arms, hearing her breathing a little rapidly from being so rushed.
“Yeah…just a little…outta breath…”
She giggled then. “Better forget the sticker, Bongiovi, I think I’m gonna need a tattoo!”
Another great chapter, Poor Amanda really is going to need that tat!
Another great chapter! Thank you.
C'mon, now, Amanda! You can keep up with the guys-I know you can do this!
Instead of a tattoo how about giving Amanda a pass to hang around her neck so everyone knows she is with the band.