October 12th 1982 / Sayreville New Jersey

"Baby, I'm home!"

Amelia sprung up from her less-than-comfortable spot on Jon's bed and rushed downstairs to greet her boyfriend after a long day at work.

"There you are, finally!" She latched herself onto him, legs securing themselves around his jean-clad hips. "Your uncle working you overtime, huh?"

Jon's smile was ear-to-ear. "You ain't gonna believe this shit, darlin'."

"What, what is it?"

"C'mon, at the table," he chuckled, kissing her pouted lips.

"Tell me, tell me," she whined as he carried her through to the kitchen. Carol was already sitting at the table, her husband serving up the last of the food onto three remaining plates.

Carol smiled at her eldest son and the girl she already considered a daughter-in-law. The Bongiovi family was all too accustomed to seeing Amelia cling full-body to Jon like a koala bear, in fact it was more uncommon for him not to be carrying her around.

"You're back late sweetheart," Carol said. "Busy day?"

"Where's Tony and Matt?" Jon asked impatiently.

"Probably in their rooms, darling."

Jon placed Amelia in her designated seat and went to call for his brothers.

"What's the matter? You seem impatient. I told you to eat during the day."

"I ate, Mom." Jon yelled for his brothers again, urging them to 'get their asses downstairs'. Carol dreaded what the neighbors might think of their unruly son.

"Jonny's got something to tell us," Amelia clasped her hands together. "Something happened at work apparently."

"Happened? Oh, what?"

The two youngest Bongiovis finally made it to the kitchen and took a seat at their plates of food.

"What's the matter?" Anthony asked. The middle Bongiovi child was right in the middle of his rebellious teenage phase, he was too 'cool' to socialize with his family, especially his brothers.

"Yes, son, what is it?" Asked John.

"Aerosmith let me watch them record a few songs for their albums. Steven Tyler himself."

Amelia was the first to verbally react in the form of a squeal. Anthony seemed utterly jealous, Matthew elated and both Carol and John excited by the prospect their son was getting to know people in the business.

"He even listened to one of my demos!" Jon exclaimed after he'd gone into depths on Aerosmith's recording process.

"Which one, dear?" Carol asked.

"Uh, s'called Talkin' in your Sleep."

"Oh, I love that one!" Amelia beamed, kissing her boyfriend on the cheek. "What did he think?"

"He said I should keep it up. Actually he said you never know, one day he might be headlinin' for me," he snickered. "I think he liked it, even if it's a little rough."

Jon had been so excited to talk about Aerosmith that he hadn't taken a single bite of food by the time Amelia had almost finished.

"Amelia, dear," Carol addressed. "Are you staying again?"

Amelia had been at Jon's for two days already. She'd told her parents that her and her friend Tina had gone camping for a few nights with Tina's family. Richie hadn't bought the excuse for one second, though she hoped her parents were none the wiser.

"Really I should be getting going," she mumbled dejectedly. "My parents will be expecting me home."

The whole table seemed to dim. Amelia was practically a member of the family, every time she had to leave it seemed like something was missing, not to mention the family had to deal with Jon's moodiness while she was away. He wished his girlfriend's parents were normal! She was living a double life with him, if her parents ever found out he risked castration or sudden death.

"Can't you call them?" He pouted. "Let them know you're still at Tina's."

"I don't know, I don't want to risk being caught. My father would probably want to speak with Tina's parents."

"Well Mom can pretend to be her mom. Right Mom?"

Carol seemed uncomfortable at the prospect. "I wouldn't want to get you into trouble, deary. Wouldn't your father recognise their voices?"

Amelia shook her head. "No, I doubt it."

"Would you like to stay the night?" Carol asked.

She nodded. "I'd live here if I could."

"Alright then, go and call your parents, if he asks to speak to her then come and get me."

Amelia went over to the phone and took a deep breath. She'd never quite shaken the fear that came with disobeying her parents; lying to them like this was practically a crime in her eyes.

"Mr Sambora speaking."

"Hello Daddy."

The rest of the Bongiovi clan discussed Amelia's circumstances from the kitchen.

"It's ridiculous!" John declared. "The girl's soon to be twenty and they have her under lock and key."

Jon pushed some food around on his plate. "Tell me about it."

"Do they expect that she'll never have a boyfriend?"

"No, they expect she'll be with some fancy lawyer or doctor or.. I dunno, some rich guy!" Jon sneered. "I'm below them, just some good for nothin' slime ball."

"Don't say that darling," Carol grasped his hand. "You're a good man, a good and honest man."

"Not in the Sambora's eyes. I don't get it, even their own kid's a rockstar, or so Amelia tells me. Apparently their son's got it just as bad as me."

Amelia poked her head around the door and pointed at the phone in her hand. Carol gave her best pitch as Tina's mother, eventually Mr Sambora acquiesced.

Jon and Amelia bounded toward each other in delight like two children that'd been granted the rights to a sleepover. Jon gathered his girlfriend in his arms and peppered her in sweet, love-filled kisses, thanking the lord he'd get to have her for just one more night.

It wasn't long before they departed for bed. John and Carol had long since relinquished their rule on separate bedrooms; the couple now shared Jon's small single bed together. Not ideal by any means, but cosy.

"My god darlin', one day I'm gonna meet your father and I'm gonna give him a proper talkin' to," Jon promised mightily, puffing his chest out. "Do you ever think of running away?"

Amelia was slightly startled by the question. She propped herself up on Jon's bare, matted chest. "Sometimes," she admitted. "But I couldn't. I love my family, difficult as they are. I know my brother would never recover if I left. My mother would be broken and my father wracked with guilt."

"But what about you? You'd be happy."

"Yes, but selfishly so."

"Is it selfish to want a boyfriend?" Jon asked, twirling her hair around his index finger. "I don't mean to toot my own horn but I think I treat you pretty good, if they can't accept that then they can't expect you to stay, you're eighteen. You could be my Little Runaway."

"You do treat me good," she sighed, laying her cheek on his chest. "You treat me very good. I just wish my father were capable of understanding."

Jon pressed a kiss to her crown, his little kisses always made her heart flutter. "We'll be together someday, darlin'. Properly together, none of this sneakin' around nonsense, no sharin' my old single bed. Someday we'll be husband and wife livin' together in a beautiful home with beautiful kids."

Amelia swooned at the comment. "Oh, someday can't come soon enough."

"Right. I can't wait to build a home with you." He hovered over her and began to kiss her. "God I love you Amelia. Do you really have to go tomorrow?"

"Yes, or my father will start searching the entire neighborhood for me."

Jon released an exaggerated groan. How could a man he'd never met before be the bane of his existence? "What if I cut my hair and dressed up as a lawyer. You think your dad would give me a chance?"

Amelia threaded her fingers through Jon's locks, smiling at him with undiluted affection. "My darling, we both know there's nothing in this world that could make you cut your hair. Not even me."

He had to concede. "Slicked it back into a ponytail?" He tried.

"Now that, I would love to see."

"At what point are we gonna tell him? We can't go on like this forever."

"I suppose when we're both financially stable enough to do so," she said reasonably. "So, not now."

"But you could live here," he pouted. "I can get a double bed."

Amelia shook her head. At that point he gave into the tantrum and buried his face directly into Amelia's breasts for comfort.

She massaged his scalp and tutted fondly. "Someday, baby."

"I can get all dressed up in a suit, I can be respectable if I wanna." He pushed out his lips in a haughty duck pout, doing his best impression of a distinguished gentleman. "Evening Mr Sambora, my name is John Francis Bongiovi, I'm a lawyer and I'm gonna marry your daughter."

"Oh, I'm sure he'd be charmed," she giggled.

"I am rather charming aren't I, dear?" He gleamed.

"Too charming." She kissed his nose. "I love you, you know that?"

Amelia lived much of her life in solitude. Her family were not much company these days, she lived such a couped up life. Jon was a fresh of breath air, a wild rose amongst thorns. He played to her rebellious side while remaining a good deal sensible.

"And aren't I a lucky man." He captured her lips again in a hot, passionate kiss. Quickly after their first time together Amelia had notice Jon had never really grown out of his horny teenage phase. He was very hands on, a very physical being. "I can't wait to marry you someday."

She pressed a finger to his chest. "Hold your horses cowboy, we're only eighteen. Well, nineteen."

"Exactly. Old enough to know there ain't another woman in this world I'd rather have than you."

"What about Michelle Pfeiffer?" Amelia teased. Jon practically salivated.

"A man's first love is always special, and she's smokin' hot! But she ain't you, babe. I wouldn't take a hundred Michelle Pfeiffer's over you."

"Cher?"

"Not a candle to you darlin'."

"Oh, you sweetie pie." Jon cowered away as she pinched his cheeks.

He stopped for a moment and gazed at Amelia's face in the dim light. She was beautiful, perfect even. His thumb grazed her cheek fondly but sadly, his thoughts got the best of him.

"Do you ever feel scared? Scared that things won't work out for us?"

"No. The universe saw fit to bring us together and I don't believe it could be cruel enough to tear us apart."

Jon was unfortunately not so naïve to think so.

"Someday we'll be living together in a lovely house. What sort of a place would you want, Jonny?"

"You know me, 'Melia. I want a house by the beach overlookin' the sea. Wakin' up every mornin' to the ocean sounds like heaven to me."

"You and your obsession with the beach. I could never live in a beach home, there'd be sand everywhere. And what if there was a tsunami? We'd be the first to go."

"A tsunami?" He laughed. "On the Jersey shore?"

"Yes, or even just a storm. It'd be a terrible place to live, not to mention cold in the winter."

Jon grumbled in admittance. "Fine then, no beach." He stuck his tongue out. "But I'd want a detached house, that way I can make as much noise as I like without neighbors gettin' pissed off."

"We better get saving then. No more unnecessary trips to McDonalds, no more concerts and no more alcohol. Imagine how much we'd save from all that."

"Man, no fair. I ain't gonna get enough money at the Power Station, that's for sure."

"Better than Kinney's," Amelia reminded him, stroking his hair.

"Anythin's better than that old place."

Amelia admired how peaceful he looked; eyes closed, cheek pressed up against her chest with a small smile on his face. He looked positively dreamy.

"Would you want a modern house?" She asked him.

"Nah, well not too modern. I like the old style homes."

"Me too."

"N' I'd do all the decorating myself," Jon grinned. "I'd get it just the way we want it."

"Lord help us," Amelia prayed. "Have you ever painted a house?"

"Sure! Dad used to smack me round if I didn't."

"I don't know if I'd trust you to paint the place, you'd come out with all sorts of colors."

"I'll have you know that my artistic eye is second to none."

"You're a music man, darling, not an artist."

"I'd make a good house painter. I'll make our future house special, I promise baby." He sealed his declaration with a kiss.

There was a knock at the door. Carol entered.

"Sorry, sorry," she quickly said, "I don't mean to intrude- in fact I'm not even looking." She covered her eyes. "I brought you both some snacks, I noticed you were still hungry after dinner."

She set a plate of fruit and cookies on Jon's nightstand.

"Oh, thanks Mom."

"You're very welcome. Goodnight you two. See you in the morning."

"Goodnight Carol."

"Night Ma."

As soon as she was gone Jon was already devouring a cookie.

"You and your obsession with cookies." Amelia instead opted for a bunch of grapes. "Why don't you put your new record on?"

"Oh, yeah!" Jon excitedly scrambled over to his record player.

"What's it called?"

"Dunno, it's not English," he shrugged with a mouthful. "Ish a dansh record."

"Didn't your mother ever tell you to eat with your mouth closed?"

"Shut up." He put the needle on the record.

"You idiot!" Amelia scolded, reaching to turn it down. "It's night time."

"Oh yeah," Jon smirked. "Night time boogie."

He started to dance. Jon wasn't a very good dancer, his joints were stiff and movements unnatural.

"You're adorable," Amelia laughed. "When I'm through with you you'll be a world class dancer."

"I'm a hopeless case darlin', don't waste your time."

Amelia approached him. She was a fabulous dancer, she'd been taught by her mother and aunts at a young age. Her body moved swiftly, seamlessly, Jon couldn't get enough of it.

"What do you want to learn, dear?" She gleamed. "Tango? Or Samba or Cha Cha Cha."

She wriggled closer to him, placing each of her hands on his shoulders and shimmying her hips against his.

"Or salsa," she whispered huskily, leaning in to bite his earlobe.

"Oh darlin'," he moaned. "You look entirely too innocent to be so damn sexy."

He grasped her hips and pulled her in for a feverent kiss.

"I'm gonna teach you how to salsa. All men should know how to salsa, especially the sexy ones."

Jon rolled his eyes. "I don't even know what a salsa is, I thought it was a sauce."

"Well you're about to learn. Now stand up straight and keep your chin up."

"Yes Ma'am." Amelia rewarded him with a peck to his chin.

"You need to shave, too stubbly."

He rolled his eyes again.

"Now step forward with your left foot."

Jon put his right foot forward.

"Are you for real?"

"What, what'd I do?"

"Left foot, Jon Francis, LEFT foot."

"Oh," the man blushed.

"Better." She slapped his arm lightly. "Normally I'd chide you for your improper hand placement, but since the salsa is a rather sexy dance I'll let it slide."

Jon's hand slipped just a little further down Amelia's hips.

"Don't push it. Now take my hand with your left."

Amelia walked him through the steps. He was hopeless, clearly she'd overestimated her ability to teach.

"Relax!" She ordered frustratingly. "Relax your hips, let them swing. You have very attractive hips Jon, let them move naturally."

He moved like a toy figure made of wood.

"I'm tryin', they're stuck."

"Well, they move well enough in bed so I don't see why they shouldn't work now."

Jon gave a small smirk and waggled his brows.

"Come on," she grasped his hips. "Let them move to the music, let them be free."

"God, this is so humiliating," he whined.

"Don't be ridiculous, it's only me. Now keep trying."

"Yes Ma'am," he mumbled. God he loved her, he sure as hell wouldn't be doing this for any other woman.

"Can't we just have some fun," he groaned and pulled her a little closer. He ground his hips against her. "Hey, I like this."

"Well you would, wouldn't you. You're a sex addict."

"A sex enthusiast," he corrected. "Mm, that's one way to get my hips movin'." He took her hand and twirled her around. "Oh yeah, that's great."

"You really have a hard-on from this?"

"Doesn't take much, darlin'." He thrust himself against Amelia's ass.

"Anybody would think you were just going through puberty."

"Babe, when my girlfriend's this hot how can I not be constantly horny?"

She suppressed a smile.

Jon felt his jeans grow tighter the more Amelia wriggled against him. "You're teasin' me now. You better not back out n' claim you can't have sex because my parents are here."

"I can't! It's unethical."

"God, who cares. Sex is sex baby, we all do it. If you're gonna back out then you better do it now, stop wrigglin' that sexy ass of yours against my dick."

She peered back at him with a raised brow.

"I hardly even have an ass," she laughed.

"Oh yeah? Then what's this?" He gave her a small smack on the seat of her jeans. "It's a sweet little ass, baby."

"Little being the descriptive adjective."

Heck, his ass was bigger than hers.

"It ain't about size baby, it's about shape." He took a fistful of her. "You've got the sexiest ass I've ever seen."

"Look in the mirror," she muttered beneath her breath.

"You know there are people that have sex up the ass?"

"What? Why??" She seemed mortified.

"Why not?"

"Well, because there is a perfectly adequate hole right next to it. That's disgusting, it's dirty."

"It's not dirty, you clean it. Douching or whatever, gay guys do it," he shrugged. "I new a guy who was gay once."

"Gay men have sex like that because they don't have vaginas. I do."

"No," he admitted. "But apparently it feels good."

"Maybe for men. Isn't your g-spot located in your ass? Maybe I should try it on you with a dildo, you might enjoy it."

His mouth dried.

"That's what I thought. Don't ever allude to putting your penis in my ass again, Jon. Do you hear me?"

"Yeah. Course."

"I'm willing to try lots of sexual acts, Jon. Even the unconventional ones but not that. I almost cried when we had sex the first time because it hurt so bad, going through the... backdoor, would be excruciating."

On second thoughts Jon wasn't so keen to try it. Not that he ever really was, he just wanted a reaction out of her.

"And nothing under your roof," she warned. "We go to motels for that, I will not abuse your parents kindness in letting us share a room."

His eyes rolled to the back of his head. "Seriously? Who cares?"

"I do. It's night time, people are trying to sleep."

"Mm, I suppose you do have trouble being quiet," he teased.

"I do not."

"You should hear yourself, babe. I'm surprised we haven't been permanently banned from the motel after all your screamin'."

"Don't be ridiculous. How did we get here? You're supposed to be dancing. Now lift your arm higher, and get that chin up!"

"Hey, I know a dance we can learn."

"What?" She seemed genuinely intrigued.

"It's called the midnight tango, have you heard of it?"

"Oh, you sex fiend! Don't you think of anything else?"

He squeezed her breast with his hand. In his mind it was a sign that they were made for each other, her boobs fit perfectly in his grasp.

"I'm a teenage boy, baby."

"You're twenty."

"Basically a teenage boy."

"A grown man working a nine-to-five more like."

"Grown men like sex. Now c'mon, where's the rebel in you? Who knows how long it'll be before I see you again properly."

He picked her up and carried her over to the bed.

"Your bed is too creaky, we can't."

"Come on, live a little! My parents won't care."

"What about sixty nine?"

Jon was caught by surprise. "Sixty nine?"

"Yeah. You know... when," she started to blush and cover her face.

"Go on darlin', explain it to me." Jon took pleasure in her shyness.

"Oh, stop. This is cruel, Jon, cruel!"

"What? I don't know what it is!"

"You know full well what it is. Now lay on the bed, take your damn clothes off and lick my..."

She couldn't say it. Jon moved toward her in a loving embrace, he couldn't stop laughing. "Oh, I love you baby. I love you so much."

"Stop laughing at me, it's embarrassing."

"It's your comeuppance for makin' me dance."

"You do know what sixty nine is, don't you?"

"Of course I do," he laughed. "Now get naked baby. I'm gonna give you such good head that you'll be beggin' for me to fuck you."

†††

It was a solemn morning. Amelia awoke early just to see Jon off to work. He was always moody the morning she was about to leave, it was difficult to get a word out of him.

Jon took his motorbike to work and Carol and Amelia took the Ford.

"You alright, sweetie?" Carol reached over for Amelia's hand.

"I wish I had a mother like you."

She felt awful saying it, it felt like the most heinous form of blasphemy. She loved her mother, she just wished she had more freedom.

"Like me?" Carol laughed. "Dear, I can be terrible sometimes you know. Jon would laugh if he heard you say that, he'd say be careful what you wish for."

Amelia shook her head. "No he wouldn't, and if he did he'd be silly. I wish my mother was like you, you're so... relaxed. I mean, you have your boundaries and your rules which I respect and understand but you aren't overbearing. You love your boys so much, anybody can see that, you don't keep them locked up or stop them from experiencing normal things at their age. I feel so trapped."

Carol pitied the girl. "Well, I often wonder what it would've been like had I had a daughter, we initially hoped Matthew would be a girl after two boys. The closest thing I have to a daughter is you."

She pulled over to the curb.

"A part of me understands your parents. Girls are different from boys, I understand wanting to protect them from harm. I disagree with your parent's approach, I think it's wrong to cage up your child no matter your intentions. They need to experience things on their own, good and bad."

"It's not fair," Amelia sighed. "I love Jonny. If I tell my parents then I'll never be allowed to see him again."

"No, it's not fair," Carol took the girl's hand. "I wish I could offer you more comfort. I'm sure that your parents love you very much, try to understand them sweetie, they were brought up in a very different time."

"It's not just my parents, it's my brother too," she muttered. "I don't know what their problem is, it's like they see me as this fragile little bird."

"Give them time. You're almost twenty, they can't keep you trapped for too much longer. You're always welcome at ours."

Amelia held onto Carol's hand for the rest of the car journey. She dreaded reaching her house, it was a solemn walk up the drive to the porch.

"Amelia!" Her mother greeted her. The smile and warm embrace she was met with only made her feel guiltier about what she'd said in the car. "How was your trip darling? Did you enjoy camping? You didn't get caught in the rain did you? It was torrential over here."

"I was fine, Mom," she sighed.

"I made you breakfast, your favorite! Pancakes, I thought you'd like a sweet treat. I even bought chocolate syrup."

Amelia nodded. "Thank you Mom."

"Tell me about the trip." Joan took a seat across from her daughter. "Is Tina doing well?"

"Yes. It was decent , the weather was agreeable. We ate far too many toasted marshmallows."

"Well, toasted marshmallows are mandatory for camping."

Amelia had a sudden idea; an unwise temptation. She swallowed a bite of food and cleared her throat. "There was a cute boy there."

"A boy?" Her mother's eyebrows suddenly raised. Excitement paired with reservations. "What kind of a boy, darling?"

"I don't know, he was rather sweet."

"Well yes but.. did he look proper? What was his name? Were his parents there?"

"His name was Mark."

"Well, that's a nice name. A good christian name. What else?"

"I don't know, he had pretty long hair, kind of like Richie. He told me his father did it so I presumed his father was a hairdresser."

"Long hair? You don't mean he was one of those rockstar types."

"Mom, your own son is one of those 'rockstar' types."

"Richie is a musician and a very talented one at that. By the age of fourteen he was learning records by ear and had practically mastered his scales."

"He's still a rockstar. Mark seemed like a really good man, you can't judge him based on his profession."

"Rockstars are not to be trusted, it's no real way to earn a living."

"I hope that Richie makes you eat your words."

"Amelia... You're such a bright girl, you can do far better than one of those hippies. You're intelligent and deserving of a lawyer or doctor, somebody that is devoted to you, someone that won't break your heart."

"Not all rockstars are like that, Mom. Is that really what you think of your own son?"

Joan shook her head. "Amelia.."

"No, Mom. I'm so sick of it, I feel so trapped. I don't want to fall in love with a doctor, I don't choose who I love based on their professions. I liked this boy, he gave me his number."

"His number?" Joan gasped.

"Yes, I intend to meet with him."

"You will do no such thing."

Amelia turned around at her father's voice. It was clear she'd gone too far in testing the waters, now she was caught up in a lie.

"But Daddy-"

"No. Hand over his number, I'll explain to him why he won't be seeing you."

"Daddy that's not fair!" She screamed. "You haven't even met him."

"And from the sounds of it I'm glad. I will not have you getting your heart broken by one of these long-haired wannabe rockstars, alright Amelia? You'll thank me someday."

"Someday? You'll be lucky if I even speak to you someday. You'll be lucky if I don't run away from home."

"Don't say such things."

"Sometimes I'd rather be homeless than live under your roof."

"Amelia!"

"It's true, leave me alone. You're both bigots, I hate you! I'm sick of being your Little Princess. How can you be so filled with hate for people less fortunate than yourselves?"

Amelia stormed past her father up the stairs.

"Amelia Marianne Sambora, get yourself downstairs this instant!"

Her father's voice didn't intimidate her anymore. She continued to her room, slammed the door and wedged her desk chair beneath the handle.

She started to cry. Her only source of comfort were the little polaroid pictures of her and Jon that she kept stashed beneath her bed. She thought of what Jon had said to her last night, running away... Surely she didn't have the guts to run away.

And yet, as she listened to her parents argue over her downstairs she realized she couldn't stand to be in the house any longer.

She didn't leave her room all day, not even as her parents demanded she come down for dinner and loosely threatened to break down her door. She spent the day packing and scrounging up any spare money she had.

Amelia had never climbed out of a window before, especially not in the dark. She'd never been good with heights.

"Oh god, oh lord," she repeatedly prayed. She threw her bag down onto the grass and made a leap of faith down the pipe. She made it to the ground without breaking any bones.

She made a run for the gate and silently climbed over it. The streets were a scary place at night even in a relatively well-off neighborhood. She hurried along in the dark, her winter coat offered no reprieve in the bitter cold.

It was a great many blocks before she found herself at a phone box. She put in what little change she had and dialed the Bongiovi landline.

It was pitch black, the most she could see was her breath in the cold. She worried someone might pounce at her, she felt awfully vulnerable without anything to defend herself.

"Hello?" A gruff voice answered.

"John, is that you?"

Her voice was meek in the cold.

"Amelia?" The man seemed worried. "Is that you? What's the matter, you sound frightened."

"I... well, I was wondering if you could come and pick me up."

She braced herself for his reply. Suddenly she felt like a nuisance, she felt silly for running away, she'd put herself in danger.

"Pick you up?" He frowned. "From where?"

"I.. uh, I had a fight with my parents. I ran away."

"Good God," the man cursed. Amelia was entirely ashamed. "Well where the deuce are you? Don't tell me that you're at a phone box."

Amelia was silent.

"Oh, you silly girl," John scolded worriedly. "What were you thinking?"

"I'm sorry." She almost started to cry. "I just, I couldn't stand to be there any longer. Anywhere seemed better than home."

"What street are you on?"

She supplied the address.

"Alright Amelia, listen to me. Find yourself a discreet location and wait there until I arrive. Do you understand?"

She sniffled. "Yes."

"Alright. I'll be there soon."

He hung up. Amelia set about finding a good 'hiding spot'. It was a Friday night, probably not the best time to run away considering the abundance of drunks roaming the streets. In the end she curled up by a tree in the abandoned park and waited. Perhaps twenty minutes later she heard the honk of a car and spotted the familiar Ford. Her boyfriend hopped out of it to look for her.

"Amelia!" He yelled into the void.

"I'm here!" She called, surrendering herself into his embrace.

"Amelia," he held her tight. "Thank god. What were you thinkin', runnin' away in the middle of the night."

"I don't know," she sniffled. By now tears were running freely down her cheeks. "I don't know. It was your idea."

He shook his head. "You're stupid, you know? Damn stupid."

She choked a little. Despite his harsh words his arms were loving and kind. He rested his cheek on her head with the occasional kiss to her hair. He seemed shaken up.

"But I love you," he finally said. He nuzzled his nose against his girlfriend's.

"That's a relief."

She buried her face in his neck and relished in the warm embrace.

"You could've been hurt," Jon sighed. He cupped her cheek and pressed his forehead against hers. His heart hadn't stopped racing since his father had received her phone call, now it was racing for an entirely different reason. "What were you thinkin' baby?"

"I don't know. I had a fight with Mom and Dad, I just had to leave."

"You should've called me, I woulda picked you up."

"I didn't want my parents to pick up the phone."

John Sr eventually climbed out of the car. He gave Amelia a slightly chastising look, she used her boyfriend as a shield.

"Thank you for coming to get me. I'm sorry to cause a bother, I didn't mean to."

"Picking you up would've been no bother," the older man stated. "But putting yourself in danger by running out in the middle of the night unprepared and unarmed was foolish and silly of you."

Amelia was glad it was dark, her face must've looked like a tomato.

"I'm sorry," she repeated.

"That's alright," John said. He accepted her into a small hug of his own. "Now then, we'll discuss your running away from home when we get back in the warmth. Get in the car."

Both Jon and Amelia climbed in the back. Amelia always had to force her boyfriend to wear a seatbelt.

"Are you warm enough?" He asked her. She nodded. He kissed her head and pulled her into another cosy hug. "I love you."

"I love you too."

He cuddled her best he could the whole way back. He didn't know what could've gone down in merely one day of her being home, he just hoped she was okay. A part of him was even glad she'd run away, perhaps selfishly.

"I don't have a great deal of respect for your parents, Amelia," John Sr began. "That being said, as a parent myself I can't allow another parent to worry for their child's safety. You're welcome to stay with us for as long as you like under the condition that you call your parents and let them know that you're safe. Perhaps not now, but tomorrow."

"I understand," she whispered.

Amelia was desperate to get back into the warmth of the Bongiovi home. She hadn't eaten all day either, she hoped Carol had some leftovers for her.

It must've been eleven o'clock by the time John pulled into the drive. Jon helped Amelia out of the car and offered to carry her bag for her. Amelia felt somewhat ashamed to be there, she couldn't imagine what John and Carol thought of her.

Carol, however, greeted her with a warm and motherly hug. "Oh, you poor thing," she tutted. "Come on in, you must be cold and hungry."

Amelia was both in ample amounts. Jon set about lighting a fire and Carol brought in some food.

"Would you like to talk about it?" The woman asked, taking a seat beside Amelia on the couch.

"It was silly, really," she sighed. "I wanted to test the waters with my parents. I told them I'd met a boy, a boy called Mark with long hair and a hairdressing father. My parents seemed outraged when I told them he gave me his number. I tried to reason with them but my dad yelled at me, said he wasn't going to let me see him. I bolted myself in my room all day then left at night. I don't want to be around parents that can't accept the man that I love."

Jon reached for her hand. "Well, you're safe here baby," he cooed. "You're always welcome in the Bongiovi house."

"Always," John Sr nodded.

In a weird way she took pleasure in the idea her parents were worried even if she knew it was an immature thought. In her mind they deserved to worry.

After being sufficiently warmed and fed Jon carried Amelia up to his room again.

"How was work today?" She asked him tiredly, snuggling into his cosy covers.

"Not great, bought coffee for a couple nobodies. No Aerosmiths today."

"Mm. Did you at least record a demo?"

"Eh, got a little bit done. Not much, was a pretty busy shift."

Amelia grumbled tiredly, making grabby arms at Jon and demanding he get into bed. He laughed and granted her wish.

"You really need to get yourself a double bed," she told him.

"Well, hopefully it won't be too long before we can get our own apartment. God, it'll be a dream come true living with you. If I buy a house in the future and you aren't moving in with me then I don't want it."

Amelia smiled. "Well, I can't picture my life without you Jonny so hopefully I'll be there."

"You will," he assured. "We're gonna stay together through anythin'. I promise."

Amelia kissed his neck. She felt more at home in Jon's arms than she ever had done with her parents.

"Goodnight, darling," she whispered.

"Night baby. Sweet dreams."

†††

Amelia had managed to put off returning home for a day. Eventually, Carol wouldn't allow it.

"You can stay here as long as you like, but you need to call your parents," she reiterated. "They'll be worried sick. Soon the police will be out looking for you."

Amelia had to admit she didn't like to imagine her mother distressed.

"Maybe it'd be best if you took me home. My parents are crazy enough that they'd send out a search party even if they knew I was safe."

"Maybe I should go with you," Jon offered. "I'll show 'em what's up."

"No, Jonny." Amelia ruffled his hair. "I like you in once piece."

Jon deflated.

"Will you come back after you see them?"

"I'm going to demand that they let me out more. I'm nineteen, they don't get to control me any more. I'm sure I'll see you a lot more from now on."

Jon's face lit up. "Well then what are you waitin' for? Go talk to them!"

Amelia chuckled. She did allow Jon to drive her home on his way to work. She was beyond nervous to return to her parents, it'd been two days. She braced herself after knocking on the door.

It was her father that answered. She'd never seen such an expression on his face; so stern and stoic yet so worried. Angry too no doubt.

"Hello Daddy," she whispered. She couldn't bear to look at him, she hugged her backpack.

"What you've done is despicable."

He spoke with no emotion, no love for her.

"I'm sorry."

"Where have you been? How could you do such a thing to your mother and your brother. Your mother hasn't spoken a word since she found you gone yesterday morning."

Admittedly she felt very guilty on that part. Still, what could she say?

"I was at a friend's."

Her father closed his eyes for a moment. "I can hardly look at you, I've been sick with worry for forty eight hours."

"Well you drove me away Daddy, it's not fair to put all the blame on me."

He shook his head at his daughter. "Get inside."

Inside, Amelia found her mother on the couch. She was a shell of a woman, beside her was Richie trying his best to comfort her.

"Momma," Amelia addressed tentatively. "I'm home."

Joan was taken by another onslaught of tears. She wailed with grief and relief, sobbing into her handkerchief. "Oh, good gracious," she cried. "Thank the Lord! Thank the Lord for bringing her home to me."

Amelia took a seat beside the woman and attempted to hug her best as possible. It was awkward when she knew she was being scrutinized by her father and brother. Nevertheless she attempted to calm her mother.

"I'm sorry Mom."

Joan wasn't yet composed enough for speech. She held onto her daughter like she never had before.

"Where have you been?" She eventually asked shakily. She touched Amelia's cheek. "Are you hungry? You must be hungry, let me make you something-"

"I'm fine Mom, I already ate."

Adam intervened. "Come on now Joanie," he took her hand. "You can rest now that she's home. Go on up to bed."

Joan looked to Amelia desperately, she nodded her approval. Adam took his wife upstairs by the arm.

Richie glared at Amelia scornfully. "What's the matter?" She asked, attempting to hug him. "Come on Richie, you've stayed away for longer without us knowing your whereabouts."

"You ran away, Amelia. God, you can be so thick sometimes." He shook his head.

"Richie please. I'm sorry I scared you."

"You ran away, all over some .. some boy you met?"

"No Richie, I ran away because I was sick of my life's decisions being laid out for me, I wanted control of my own emotions."

"Who is this Mark guy? Is it the same Mark you told me about, the one you've been fucking?"

"Keep your voice down."

"You didn't go camping with Tina, did you. You went with Mark, or did you even go camping at all?"

Amelia bit the inside of her cheek. "Perceptive, Richard."

"You're dating a rockstar?"

"No, it isn't that serious."

"You're just fucking a rockstar, then?"

Amelia rolled her eyes. "It's none of your business."

"This has been goin' on for a while, why don't you introduce me to him? I don't get it."

"Because, Richie, you're inconceivably short-sighted. I could bring someone near-perfect home and he still wouldn't be good enough for me in your eyes. Mark is a lovely man but he'd be shunned from our home, you know it and you'd likely participate in it. For now I want to keep him private, I will continue to meet with him in secret. Someday you'll meet him and I pray to God that you'll eventually see him for what he is; a good man, not his bank balance nor his profession."

He set his jaw. To Amelia's relief he decided not to argue, instead took his acoustic guitar upstairs without looking back.

Amelia's father returned to the living room only to take a cigar and leave for the backdoor.

Amelia sighed. She stood and made her way to the back porch. Her father stood at the other end of the garden, smoke billowing from his cigar. With silent footsteps she made her way across the grass. She hugged him from behind.

"I'm sorry Papa, I didn't mean to frighten you. I should've called you."

Her father placed his cigar in the ashtray on the table. He didn't look at her, didn't turn around.

"Daddy?"

Adam covered his face with his hand. There were few times in his life where he'd been so thoroughly at a loss. Even fewer where he'd been reduced to tears.

"Are you crying?"

The man didn't respond. He'd gone nineteen years without his children seeing him cry, just because his daughter had run away two nights prior didn't mean that was going to change. He kept his eyes covered until he was steady.

Even if she couldn't see the tears Amelia knew he was crying. It filled her with shame to know she'd scared her family so much. At the time she'd thought they'd deserved it, now she couldn't imagine doing that to somebody she loved.

"I'm sorry I ran away," she started. "I needed space, I felt so couped up all the time. I know I was selfish, I wanted you to worry about me. I wanted you to feel bad, I wanted some sort of leverage over you that'd make you realize I wasn't happy, that I need to be able to experience adulthood for myself. I went about it in the wrong way, I promise I won't do it again."

Adam was silent.

Amelia gave up hugging him and took two steps away. "This is the problem that I have with you Daddy. You're so emotionless, you're like a rock! You drove me away, don't you realize that? Even after I run away I can hardly get a word out of you. Don't you understand that I don't care if you cry? I'm your daughter, I love you, I'd take any emotion over your stoicism. I'd rather you shouted at me."

Adam turned around. His tears were gone but eyes remained bloodshot. He reached out to touch his daughter's hair. "Sometimes I wonder where you got your fiery spirit from." His small chuckle was the most emotion Amelia had seen from him in years. "You remind me of my sister, your Aunt Becca. She was always arguing with our parents, most of the time she was right."

Amelia didn't know what to say. She'd hardly expected him to speak, nevermind smile.

"Though she never ran away. You might be the first in the family to do that."

That probably wasn't an honor.

"I'm am sorry, Amelia."

"Why are you sorry?"

If she was challenging him she might as well go the whole way. Adam stood taller, he found it slightly humiliating to have to answer to his daughter in such a way. It was unconventional in the way he was raised.

"Well," Adam didn't really know where to begin. It was obvious to Amelia that a lot of her problems with admitting when she was wrong came from her father. "Your mother and I's style of parenting is fairly unorthodox in this day and age. I could be considered overbearing."

"Do you think that it's fair to lock me up? To choose who I fall in love with."

Adam took an uncomfortable breath. "Times are changing. When your mother and I were growing up dating and relationships were sacred. Back then us men courted our women, it was all very proper and professional and parents, particularly fathers had a big say in the matter."

"Well that's outdated Daddy. I'm not your property. And I do think relationships are sacred, I think love is the most special thing in the world... And I certainly don't think that love sees how many figures a man has in his bank account, nor his choice in profession."

"Marriage isn't only about love, Amelia. It's about providing, a man has to be able to afford his wife and children a comfortable life."

"And that's outdated too, Daddy. Women aren't damsels, we can protect and provide for ourselves. I'd rather be homeless with a man that I loved than live in a mansion with a man that I hated."

"Don't say that," Adam chided.

"It's true Daddy. Men can offer women more than money. Happiness is far more valuable to me."

"And you think that this man you met while camping could supply you that happiness?" Adam's brow piqued.

"I don't know," she took a shaky breath. "He was polite, Daddy. Well-spoken, gentlemanly, he treated me with kindness. He also wasn't so rigid as the folk you've tried to introduce me to, all these academics are so serious, I prefer a laid back man."

Adam didn't particularly like what he was hearing. Nevertheless, after the events of the past few days he wasn't about to argue.

"And he was one of those rockstar men?"

"Richie's a rockstar," Amelia tried her hardest to explain. "He's still a good man, isn't he? You would trust him to treat a woman well."

"Being a musician is no way to make money."

"Would you say that about a classical musician? What if he played the piano, what if he'd memorized each and every one of Beethoven's thirty two sonatas? You would applaud him, no?"

"That is a traditional route to being a musician. It's perfectly feasible that a man could find himself a position in an orchestra."

"I'm not a bigot, Daddy. I want a good and honest man, not a wealthy one."

"I understand," he sighed. "It will take some getting used to."

She nodded.

"But Amelia, I'm trusting your judgement. If the man is no good then I expect you to walk away from him no matter how charming he is. Whether you value money or not the man should have a steady job and steady income."

"Sure," she sighed. "But I'm almost twenty, Daddy. You were almost married by that age, you have to let me make my own decisions."

"I understand," he said. "Now promise me that you won't disappear again. You'll end up hospitalising both your parents."

"I promise. So long as you promise to stop being so unyielding."

Adam took a deep breath. "Alright. But it'll take time, Amelia. If you can prove to me that any man you fall in love with is a good, honest christian man then I'll give him a chance, no matter his profession and upbringing. But please, take it easy on your poor father. Take it slow with this man you met, don't disappear all of a sudden. And don't bring it on your mother all at once."

"Alright," she reluctantly agreed. "I'll try. And you have to promise to stop trying to listen to my calls, I deserve privacy Daddy, even if I'm talking to a boy."

"I understand. You're an adult, I have to let you go at some point."

Adam patted his daughter on the back. "Now come on, it looks as though it might rain."

Amelia didn't care to stay in her family's company for much longer. She waited until Jon was on his lunch break to call him at the power station. She explained the ordeal to him, he seemed initially excited.

"You got through to them?" He almost jumped for joy. "They're gonna let us be together?? No more sneakin' around?"

"Woah, hold your horses Jonny. It's not that simple."

"But you said-"

"Jonny, it'll take time." It was the unfortunate reality. "My parents need to slowly come around to the idea of me having a boyfriend at all, nevermind their warped idea of a good match."

Jon's silence was deafening.

"But soon, sweetheart. Maybe six months from now, or a year. Maybe then I can introduce you."

"Six months?" He sputtered.

"Come on Jonny, it's not that long. We've been together for two years, what's a little longer?"

"So their daughter running away didn't talk too much sense in to them, eh?"

"They're a little shaken. Be patient with them, they were brought up in a different world to you and I."

"Yeah, in bullshit."

"Come on," she tutted. "Besides which, I have a feeling they're gonna let me out more. We'll be able to go on a lot more dates, I won't have to sneak around so much. I'm sure many more nights will be spent at yours."

"Well, that's good at least," he sighed.

"Yeah, it's my brother you'll have to look out for now," Amelia warned. "He's on high alert after hearing about a possible boyfriend."

"I could take him in a fight." He pushed out his chin.

"That's the last thing I want. I do love him, you know? Even if he's difficult."

"Your brother sounds like an ass."

"I think you'd like him," Amelia laughed. "If you both got to know each other someday. I'm sure in the future you'll be close brother-in-law's."

"I'm gonna beat his ass."

"Oh stop," she giggled. "Stop it. Hey, he was raised by my father, of course he's gonna have problems."

"Yeah, well." He sighed. "At least I get to see you. When will you stay over again? Can I come pick you up tonight? I'm lonely."

"I've practically spent the week with you," she laughed.

"And? I want more."

"I think it's best if I stay with my parents for a couple of days. Things are weird right now. But I can call you all day, at least until my father gives me a tongue lashing for the phone bill."

"Fine," he muttered. "I gotta go, break's over. I love you baby, call me tonight."

"I'll be waiting for it. Have a good day, darling. Drive home safe, I love you."

---

I love writing these flashback chapters 🥰 hope you enjoy reading them.

I've been very busy with school stuff so I'm sorry these updates are taking so long. I promise that the next one will be up soonish, and it'll be a good one I hope 😁

Let me know what you thought of this one and remember to vote :)