Jon Bon Jovi had given up everything for a chance to see stardom, including his highschool sweetheart Amelia Sambora.
Now as Jon approaches the most important and most dangerous moments in his professional life, Amelia has a way of making it back in...
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October 3rd, 1986 / Giants Stadium, New Jersey
Amelia had never really known how big of an operation the Bon Jovi band truly was. Or at least, it was now after the release of their new album.
Many a time had she sat in the cheap seats of Giants Stadium while her father forced her to watch the football. Now her brother was headlining the place, and she was stranded backstage.
There must've been thirty or forty crew members employed by the band. She couldn't imagine there being so many workers when they first started; Richie had told her there were days when they couldn't afford to eat. Despite their newbie status, they operated like a well-oiled machine, each component carrying out their job with maximum efficiency.
Richie had left her unattended for near twenty minutes and she was beginning to wonder if he’d forgotten her. It wouldn’t surprise her, what with all the booze that was likely knocking about. Oh, and the surplus women. Trust him to practically drag her there and then forget about her, what was she to do?
She could only hope someone decent would rear their head and return her to him.
Three figures rounded the corner at the end of the hallway, their bodies intertwined. They staggard through the hallway in a sort of drunken tumble, a male in the middle with his arms slung around two scantily clad ladies.
Not the decent folk Amelia had been holding out for. She stayed seated on her bench with her eyes turned to the ground.
Throughout her life she’d fought against the allegations of prudishness levied at her; in this instance she embraced the title proudly. Sex was something to be kept between two people perhaps a couple more consensual additions, but not something to be paraded around in front of strangers. But that was just her prudish opinion, not something that mattered much in the world of rockstars and debauchery.
The three characters continued their approach, filling the hall with bouncing laughter and flirtatious giggling. That was the first alarm bell.
It couldn’t be. Amelia must’ve been overheated and bored to the point that she was entertaining delusions, hallucinating even. That laugh could have been anybody’s.
But as they neared, it became harder to claim it as a mistaken visage. The man had long hair obscuring his face but he was unmistakable. A hyperbolic laugh paired with a slick smirk, attire that only a courageous and ridiculously attractive man could get away with. His identity could hardly have been clearer.
There, Jon Bon Jovi was tightly sandwiched between two well-endowed females, alternating his affections between them with a shamelessness that would shock even the greediest street vender. There was arrogance in each step as he strutted along with them, his cowboy boots somehow managing to be louder than either of the women's stiletto heels.
As if Amelia’s opinion on him wasn’t tainted enough, any redeeming qualities had gone straight out of a fourth-story window.
He dropped a sloppy kiss to one of the women's chins, after which she erupted into another fit of girlish giggles.
