How Not To Be A Groupie

"Can't believe it happened again," Angus mumbled, eating his French fries. "Next time he goes missin', let's all assume he's climbin' down the chimney or somethin'."

"He's just practicing for Christmas," I said, wiping my hands. "Maybe that's what he gets up to during the holidays."

"Maybe," Angus said. We were sitting outside some fast food restaurant for a quick dinner that was nearby the studio. Neither of us felt like walking just to look for a nicer place even though Angus insisted he take me somewhere fancier. We settled here in the parking lot with our food, reminding me a bit of our tour bus theft. The others had gone back home after the interview finished, not bothering to stay and socialize. Everyone was still annoyed with Bon but Phil's words came back to me from the first time this happened: trouble just seemed to follow him sometimes. In time we'd forgive him. I already had. "Want any of this?" He held up a few containers of different sauces.

"No thanks," I said, loving my plain, boring fries. I loved them even more since I had been starving all day. Nothing in the world could have tasted better than this. Salty and warm, just the way I like them.

"I still think I owe ya' more than a couple greasy French fries," Angus said. A few cars pulled out of the lot. "What about breakfast tomorrow?" I almost swooned. 

"You really don't have to," I said, not wanting to burn a hole in Angus' wallet. I was content with finding some day old danish in the hotel lobby for free. 

"I know I don't have to but I'd like to," Angus said, looking awfully shy. "An'...considerin' ya' know...tomorrow's our last full day here..." The fries twisted uneasily in my stomach. From all the excitement of looking for Bon and finding him safe, I had completely forgotten how soon these men were leaving. "Ya' know somethin', love, you're the first groupie that's ever stuck around this long." I looked up to see Angus with a smile on his face. "Some have gotten to know us an' that was enough for them..." He laughed. "Some went back to...ya' know, their own lives...."

"And some got what they wanted and left..." I said. Angus considered that and nodded.

"Well, that too," he said. "But I can't say we've ever gotten so attached, ya' know? You've been a treat." I gushed and the fries settled down. "Ya' sure ya' wanna be just a groupie? Since we all think of ya' really as a friend."

"I'm still a groupie," I said. "I'm just very loyal to this band."

"You're not gonna keep this up when ya' get back home?" Angus asked. He dumped the leftover fries into the palm of his hand and tossed them into his mouth, one dropping down his shirt. "Oh no..."

"Take it off! Take it off!" I chanted. Angus started humming something saucy and unbuttoned his shirt a small ways. He reached into it and pulled out the rogue fry.

"Ya' want it?" he asked, holding it out to me with a grin. I giggled and shook my head, putting my own fries into my mouth. 

"No thanks, my mouth is full," I said and he ate it instead, buttoning his shirt again. I picked up my salad and finished that off before having a quick drink of milk. I was saving the best for last. A cinnamon pretzel....and I was not going to drop it this time. "I'll stick to writing back home. Being a groupie in 2024 is...different than how it is here."

"An' we're probably a bit....too old, huh?" Angus snickered. Yeah, among other things.... "Well, if you're writin' is anything like I read in that notebook of yours, you've got a hell of a talent." 

Oh, go on....

No really, go on.

"Thank you," I said. "I'm not as good as I'd like to be. But this band has been a pretty good muse to me."