October 6th 1986 / Tokyo, Japan

For some reason it hadn't really occured to Amelia that they'd be travelling in a private jet. She'd been so out of the loop for the two years she'd spent in England that it hadn't crossed her mind that Richie and the boys could possibly travel in a vehicle so grand.

Again she was filled with that sense of pride. Her own brother flying around the world in a private jet and now her too. A huge, magnificent jet with the words Bon Jovi plastered across it.

The interior was no less impressive. It had the same feel as some of the luxurious train compartments in England that she'd had the pleasure of riding in. It only put into perspective just how rich Bon Jovi was already becoming.

They were off to Japan, a country that Richie was always raving about to Amelia. It was where Bon Jovi had first made it big, Richie had told her that in repayment for their love and support Japan was always the first foreign country they toured.

Japan. Flicking through the pile of Jon's schedules that he'd so generously given her, Amelia noted that there were three shows in Japan over the course of six days. Tokyo, Osaka and Yokohoma.

She'd always wanted to go there. She hoped she'd at least be able to sneak away for a few hours to go sightseeing around the streets of Tokyo. She didn't know how flexible her work schedule would be as Jon's PA, she imagined it'd be quite spontaneous if not a little hectic.

Their specific compartment on the plane was unexpectedly quiet. Only the band and a few other men were present, one of which Amelia recognized to be Jon's manager.

She was alone at the front of the plane, cozy and warm with a hot chocolate and all of Jon's paperwork out on the table in front of her. She had to admit, when Jon told her he'd be dropping off some papers she hadn't quite imagined such a hefty stack. They'd been so intimidating that she hadn't been able to bring herself to touch them before now. Thankfully, upon closer inspection there wasn't nearly as much writing as she'd initially thought. Still, Amelia hadn't realized quite how busy the man was. Outside of the shows he had interviews, photoshoots, meetings with company executives. She wondered how much of that she'd be arranging.

During the time they'd spend in Japan Jon had four scheduled interviews to attend. In a week. Four interviews, three shows, soundchecks, travelling, a full-band photoshoot, hosting a radio show, and a commercial. Did the man ever sleep?

Amelia pushed the papers to the side and shifted herself into a comfortable sleeping position. They were seven hours into a fifteen hour flight and all that reading had left her tired. She pulled her hood over her head to block out the sounds of the band playing poker and eventually drifted off to sleep.

She slept for the remaining eight hours of the flight, only waking up when her brother began vigorously shaking her shoulder. "Wake up, we're here."

It took her only a second to regain her bearings. She jumped up in her seat and peered out of the small window. "Tokyo?" She gasped, akin to a small child.

"Yeah, you slept through the landing," Richie snickered.

Amelia couldn't take her eyes away from the outside. It was so beautiful with only the light of the moon and street lamps. The sky was so unusually blue for a night sky and even in the moderate darkness the queue of red buses seemed to glow scarlet. She would bet that one of those would be taking them to their hotel for the night; she'd never seen such a distinct looking airport.

Richie dragged her away from the viewport while laughing. "You're gonna love touring with us," he said, clapping her on the back. For once she didn't doubt it. She was in Japan!

The novelty may have worn off for Richie and the rest of his band, but to Amelia being in Japan was just about the the most exciting thing she'd ever experienced in her life. She was an American in Tokyo.

She was glad for her coat when she stepped off the plane, for some reason she'd always imagined Japan to be warmer even at night. Her and Richie seemed to be the last two off the jet, everybody else was loading all the luggage onto the coaches ready to leave.

"You want me to sit with you?" Richie asked as they boarded. She shook her head.

"No, it's alright. Go and sit with your band."

"You sure?" He seemed a little offended. "I can sit with you, I don't want you to be alone."

Amelia looked down the coach. Jon was sitting alone at the back in his coat and cowboy hat gazing out of the window.

"Your singer looks lonely," she noted. "Why don't you go sit with him?"

Richie paused. "You sure?"

She was already sitting down as she nodded. "Yes."

Dejectedly, Richie continued to shuffle down to the back of the coach where Jon was. To be rejected by your own little sister was not only slightly humbling, but disheartening.

"You alright man?" Jon asked.

"Fine."

"You sure?"

Richie huffed to himself. If there was one person in the world he could be honest with it was Jon. "Yeah man, I'm just worried about my sister. She's not been the same since she got back."

Jon could well believe it, however he schooled himself back into indifference.

"How do you mean?"

"Well, I dunno really. She's always been a little odd. She keeps to herself a lot, y'know? I never quite know what's goin' on with her."

"Maybe she's just quiet," Jon shrugged. "Some people like to be alone."

"Well yeah but she's my sister, she hardly talks to me." Richie beheld his friend for a moment, then sighed. "You wouldn't understand, you don't have a sister. You get protective over 'em y'know, when they don't talk to you it worries you, makes you wonder if somethin's going on."

Jon gave a small smile. "I'll keep an eye on her."

Richie looked at Jon again, almost surprised by his words. Then again he didn't understand why, Jon had always been the caring one of the group. He patted the singer on the knee. "Thanks man. You alright if she tags along on some of the outings? I think it'd be good for her."

"Of course. She's your sister, she's part of the family."

Richie relaxed back into his chair feeling much more at ease. "Thank you Kidd. I think maybe we should try to get out tonight. We've all just slept on the plane, no point tryna sleep in the hotel."

"Yeah. It'll be nice to look around, maybe get some sushi."

"Fuck yeah," Richie grinned like a kid. "Oh, we've gotta get Amelia using chopsticks."

"She's never used them before?" Jon asked, starting to smirk.

"No, and there's nothing Amelia hates more than making a fool out of herself."

"Should be fun." Jon couldn't wait to see that. "Maybe we could check out the streets a little. Visit some of the stores."

"Amelia loves shopping."

"What lady doesn't?" Jon asked innocently, looking out of the window and admiring the night time view.

"No, Amelia loves shopping. I wouldn't leave her alone in a store with a credit card."

"Yeah," Jon muttered quietly, looking at his own reflection. "Well, we'll keep an eye on her."

Richie nodded. He felt much better about the situation after talking with Jon.

Amelia stood to the side as everyone piled off the coach. She was quickly coming to realize that the crew really were just men. As far as she'd spotted there was only one woman travelling with them and she had no idea who she was or what she did.

It wasn't that she didn't think she could get along with the men; she was sure many of them would become her friends, it was just that she found women far more approachable. She felt like everyone was looking at her wondering who she was and why she was there.

She had no idea how Bon Jovi were affording any of this. When she entered her room she was stunned to find a luxurious suite fit for a queen. She'd expected a small, slightly run down room not to dissimilar from the motels she used to stay in, at least size wise. This was spacious, modern, beautifully decorated and fitted with a closet and ensuite bathroom.

Amelia couldn't possibly understand. She was just a PA, in the hierarchy of Bon Jovi crew members she must've been at the very bottom. How could they possibly afford rooms like this for everybody to stay in?

"You alright?"

She spun around in fright to find the source of the voice. "Jon," she exhaled, hand on her beating heart. "What are you doing? How did you get in?"

He gave an offhand shrug, wandering around aimlessly and inspecting the standard of the room. "I have access to all the crew's rooms." He held up a key card between two fingers. "Sorry, I should've knocked."

He'd always had a slight disregard for boundaries.

"Yes, you should have," she breathed steadily. He had scared the living crap out of her. Realistically there was no chance she could've been changing, they'd only just got in, but where was his decency?

"Just wanted to check up on you. Room okay?"

"Yes, it's lovely," she smiled a little. She felt guilty knowing that all the money spent on such a lovely room was likely deducted from Jon's pocket, even if the record company paid for it.

She joined him in gazing out of the window. Tokyo was utterly beautiful at night.

"Gorgeous, right?" Jon smiled having read her thoughts. "Anyhow, you alright?"

She nodded, continuing to look out of the window even as Jon moved away.

"How come you didn't come play cards with us on the plane?"

Amelia looked at him with a frown. Jon had taught her how to play poker once upon a time, she had to admit that she had enjoyed listening to the boys play it on the plane.

"I didn't want to intrude."

"Intrude?" He laughed. "You wouldn't have intruded, it would've been nice for you to get to know the band a little better. Dave and I have missed you."

There she went again, looking out to the distance and away from her past. Amelia had known John Bongiovi and David Rashbaum, not Jon Bon Jovi and David Bryan.

"In that case, perhaps you should've invited me," she said. "I was reading through your schedules."

"Alright," Jon shrugged. "I just don't want you to be lonely. Richie's been worried about you. So have I."

She felt a warm blush rise to her cheeks. As silly as it was, it was slightly embarrassing knowing everybody was able to see she was the only one without friends.

"Well, it's hard not to be lonely when you're the only woman in sight," she sighed. "I mean seriously, do you employ any women at all?"

Jon frowned in thought. "Well, we don't usually employ women for heavy lifting, which is what most of the crew do. But there's Spankie, she's our wardrobe manager."

"Wardrobe manager?" Amelia uttered in surprise. She'd never heard of such a title before. Nor had she ever heard of a name like 'Spankie'.

"Yeah, she helps us coordinate our outfits for shows n' stuff."

So she was responsible for all those crazy outfits?

"I'll introduce you to her," he smiled. "She's a real nice girl, I'm sure she'll be glad to have another woman around."

The way in which Jon spoke about her put her at ease. Maybe if she befriended her it'd help her connect with the rest of the crew.

"Anyhow, Richie's the one that sent me in here," Jon said after a period of silence. "The guys fell asleep on the plane not long after you did, we're not used to the jetlag after being in the states for a couple months. We were gonna take a walk in the city, he wanted to know if you'd come along."

"A walk in Tokyo?" She asked, jetting up from her spot on the bed. "Really?"

"Yeah, he thinks it'll be good for you to get to know the guys a little better." He looked at her with a glint of humor in his eyes. "Plus.. a lot of the big stores round here are open twenty four hours. We were gonna take a look round some of them."

"Shopping?" She just about jumped with excitement. If only she had money to spend.

"Yes, the band get a lot of their outfits from here. Anything that's not tailored specifically for us is probably from Japan."

"When are you going?" She asked.

"Well, now really," he said. "Put your coat back on, it's chilly out."

She threw her coat back over her shoulders and quickly followed him out of the door. "Won't you be jetlagged?" She frowned, jogging to keep up with him. "You have a show tomorrow and you won't have slept all night."

"Eh, we're used to running on low fuel," he shrugged, running his fingers through his half blond, half brunette hair. "We don't have any interviews tomorrow, soundcheck'll be around five, we can sleep through the day."

"Oh." She was coming to realize that all her strict routines and sleep schedules were very quickly going to go out of the window.

"When you get on stage it doesn't really matter how tired you are," Jon went on to explain. She felt strangely short next to him with his cowboy boots on. His hair too made him appear taller. "You're just so pumped there with the crowd and the lights n' music. Sure you might crash as soon as you come off stage, but the adrenaline takes over as soon as the music starts."

She remembered how pumped he was to play to merely fifty people in a club. In that aspect, he hadn't changed. She could imagine how much of a dream come true all of this was. She wasn't sure little Jon could ever have dreamed of playing Tokyo.

He always had a childlike sparkle in his eyes when he talked about performing.

Tokyo, much like New York, was a city that never slept. She hadn't had the chance to see it in daylight yet but she would bet it was doubly beautiful at night. It was a sensory overload, really. Glowing billboards in every inch of your vision, honking cars and blaring sirens, the scent of all the restaurants and parlours selling food even in the early hours, and even the bite of the cold, crisp air.

It was nothing short of incredible, all of it. Even the band who'd had the privilege of seeing it so many times seemed in awe.

David sort of adopted Amelia during the trip. She wasn't a particularly talkative woman around people she didn't know well, and he wasn't about to let her be left out. "Stay close, alright?" He yelled over the sounds of the city.

They first dragged her to a sushi parlour, and as much as she protested they weren't going to let her get out of it.

"No thank you Richie, I'm not hungry," she pleaded. She hoped the lovely Japanese lady over the counter couldn't understand her. It was just, well, she didn't like fish.

And she didn't know how to use chopsticks.

"C'mon, try a piece," Jon pestered, grinning ear to ear. He shoved another large piece of sushi into his mouth with the chopsticks, nodding. "Mm, it's delicious, darlin'!" He said to the Japanese woman, giving her a huge thumbs up. Judging by her smile she seemed to understand.

"No thank you," Amelia reiterated. It was all the more infuriating coming from Jon; he knew how much she despised fish possibly even more than Richie did. "I don't even know how to use those things."

"These?" Jon snipped the chopsticks in her direction, she didn't understand how he could maneuver them so easily, they looked so complicated. "Easy."

"Well what about that one?" Jon asked, pointing at a rather basic looking sushi. She could hardly even hear him over the sounds of the traffic behind them.

"No," she looked around surreptitiously. Richie and the rest of the group seemed to be too busy eating and ordering more sushi. "You know I don't like fish."

Jon reluctantly caved. "Alright. The noodles then."

To her dismay he ordered her a batch of noodles from the parlour. "Look, chopsticks are easy, here."

He showed her where to place the sticks and her fingers, and to her surprise the whole technique was far easier than she'd anticipated. "See," he laughed. "You got it."

"What's this?" Richie frowned from behind her. "You're supposed to be eating sushi."

"I don't eat fish, Richard."

"What, since when?"

"Since I got sick that time."

Richie rolled his eyes. "Sushi's different."

"She wasn't gonna eat it, Rich," Jon shook his head. "Got her some noodles."

"And who taught you how to use chopsticks?" He seemed utterly dismayed.

She pointed one at Jon. "Him."

Richie seemed betrayed. "Hey, we were supposed to watch her struggle."

"Oh really?" Amelia quirked a brow.

"All in a little fun," he brother smiled, patting her shoulder. "Where do you wanna go next?"

"I wanna eat these first," she said with a mouthful. Despite her prior protestations she was loving the noodles. "Then I don't know. I don't know this place."

"We'll take you to all the best places," Richie promised. "Are you alright? You're not cold or anything?"

"Just my hands."

"We'll get you some gloves."

There were maybe hundreds of different fashion shops in the vicinity, but Richie and the boys clearly had their favorite. It was full to the brim of funky looking outfits clearly tailored toward performance. There was no shot that anybody could walk outside in any of them without being ridiculed but the band seemed to absolutely love them, running off like small children in a candy store.

Amelia herself was not much of a fashion person. She liked to dress nice and took pride in her appearance, but she didn't really follow fads. She'd spent the last two years living in England, she didn't know the first thing about what was 'in' in America.

While she dismissed most of the items in there as silly or gimmicky, there were a few nice pieces of clothing. Plenty of leather boots which she'd always enjoyed wearing, torn and distressed jeans, band merch with Japanese writing on them and lots of fabulous jackets.

Across the room she spotted Jon laughing with Alec, pulling a pair of pants to his hips. She rolled her eyes but watched with amusement. They were pure spandex with a seam outlining the crotch area on the front and the buttocks on the back.

As ridiculous as they were, they just screamed Jon to her. Unabashedly sexual in nature.

She turned back to look at some of the jackets. Entire rows of denim and leather ranging from distressed to tasseled to studded or even all three at once. A black one caught her eye, leather with a left-sided zip and a small almost corset-sized waist.

"You like that?"

Just as he'd done at the hotel, Jon had sneaked up behind her.

"What? Sure, it's nice," she said dismissively. She looked down at his arms and the bundles of garments he held in them. There must've been at least six pairs of leather pants along with a few t-shirts and jackets.

She raised a brow at him, picking a pair up between her fingers and dangling them in the air. "You really gonna wear those?"

"Sure," he laughed. "The ladies'll love 'em."

"I won't dare ask why," she muttered. Looking at how small they were in comparison to Jon's hips and legs, she could already see why. The price tag caught her eye. "Can you really afford all of those?"

"Sure I can," he shrugged. "You want that jacket?"

"Oh, no," she quickly said.

His eyes narrowed with skepticism. "Here, I'll get it."

"No," she quickly said, pushing the jacket further along the clothing rack. "No, it's fine, I don't want it."

He frowned, and despite her protests he took it off the rack. "It's no big deal, let me buy it for you."

"No," she insisted, putting it back. She didn't want his money nor his charity.

"I want to buy it for you," he said more quietly. "As a welcome home gift, or if you really want it can be an early paycheck."

"No thank you," she smiled tautly. "That's very kind of you but I don't want it, it wouldn't even fit in my suitcase."

For a moment Jon stared at her, trying to discern her thoughts and feelings. He wondered at which point she'd realize her stubbornness was only setting her back. As much as Amelia had vowed to be his friend on their phone call the other day she was still pretending that she didn't know him, even to his face in private. It concerned him, he found it hard to reconcile the woman he was once in love with to the woman in front of him now. Not only did she look different, but the way she spoke with him was truly like they'd never known each other.

"Fine," he said, pushing his chin up. "I'll buy it for myself."

"But it's a women's jacket!" She argued stubbornly.

"So?" Jon grinned. "I'll give it to Spankie."

There was no arguing with him, she merely surrendered. "Fine, waste your money on a women's jacket. Now forgive me, I'm off to look around the jockstrap section." After all, Jon buying a women's jacket was about as silly as her buying men's underwear.

"Oh very funny," he laughed. "Jokes on you, I was just headed there."

Amelia stopped and spun around, almost horrified. "You wear jockstraps?"

She didn't mean to make that thought audible.

"Of course," he shrugged, basking in how flustered she was. "What do you think goes under these pants?"

Amelia dared a glance down to his jean covered hips and wished she didn't. She didn't want to imagine the contents of those jeans in a jockstrap, she was sure she was going red.

"I don't want to know," she muttered.

Jockstraps? Really? Half of them were practically thongs. She was sure that many years ago Jon would've fainted at the idea of them.

"Sure you do."

She glared sharply at Jon. Those kinds of quips were exactly what she'd been hoping to avoid. "You flatter yourself too much," she said harshly, spinning away from him into a sea of jockstrap packs. She really did have some thongs bigger than some of them.

"Well, I'll leave you to have a mooch around."

"Mooch around?" Jon chuckled, "Is that a British thing?"

"Oh," Amelia blushed. She'd picked up a lot of their dialect over there. "Yes, probably. They do have some funny phrases."

Jon laughed. "I like it. Mooch around, sounds funny. What other British words have you picked up?"

"Oh, I don't know. Barmy, bonkers, all sorts of things. They put bloody before practically every word."

"Bloody hell!" Jon exclaimed in his best British accent.

"Shh!" Amelia looked around slightly embarrassed. She didn't want to be the stereotypical American tourist.

"Bloody bonkers innit love?"

Amelia wanted to disappear into the ground. Jon's British accent was worse than she could've imagined. He wasn't half bad at the standard accent, but the northern ones? He sounded like he were having a stroke.

"I'm going to find Richie."

"You don't wanna help me pick out my jockstraps?" He grinned, slipping back into his Jersey accent.

"No, I best leave it to the expert," she muttered. "And put that jacket back, don't waste your money so frivolously."

"No chance darlin'," he smirked. Amelia left him to wander around on his own.

Looking around the store, Bon Jovi was probably the biggest band there. Every other t-shirt had Jon's face slapped on it with the words BON JOVI written across the top. She wanted to say that if you went back and told a seventeen year old Jon about all of it he wouldn't believe you, but that'd be a lie. Truth was he probably would, he'd have bet his life on it back then that he was gonna make it big.

Each band member exited the store with multiple bags of clothing, save for Alec who merely came out with a new hat. Richie had arguably made the best purchase; a long, glistening blue jacket that went down to his ankles. It was beautiful, sexy and cool all at the same time. It just spoke Richie Sambora.

It was almost dawn by the time they returned to the hotel, by which point Amelia was tired again. Jon had been right, she ended up sleeping through the morning.

She woke up panicked and wondering if she'd missed out on any of her personal assistant duties. She was relieved to find that soundcheck was still two hours away.

She supposed it was her first proper day on the job. She stretched her limbs and wondered if last night was really real. Shopping in Tokyo? Eating noodles at a sushi bar? Jon's jockstraps? It was all so surreal, she was really in Japan.

Amelia didn't know anything about life on the road. What did people do in the hours of waiting? Sit around in hotel rooms all morning?

She grabbed her book and snuggled up in the covers. During her English iterature studies she'd been forced to read plenty of classic books. She'd developed a disdain for Shakespeare and Dickens, and while she appreciated the work of Orwell, Austen, the Brönte sisters and plenty of other classic authors of the literary canon, she much preferred to read a nice simple romance in her own time.

She made it only a few chapters in before deciding to check up on Jon and make sure he was ready for soundcheck. The whole thing seemed silly to her, checking up on him to make sure he was ready for soundcheck. Was that really what he meant for her to do? He never really explained her job role very well to her. Making sure a grown man was ready for soundcheck in the same way a mother would make sure their toddler was ready for school must've seemed as unnecessary to him as it was to her, right?

She knocked on his door and wondered if he was even awake.

"Come in!" Apparently so.

As she entered she found him rummaging around in his suitcase for something. Socks, judging by his bare feet.

"Everything alright?" He asked absentmindedly as he continued to look

"Soundcheck's in an hour," she said awkwardly.

Jon looked up with a confused smile. "I know," he nodded.

"I was just checking that you were ready." She was having doubts about the whole thing. He had said that part of her job would be to 'make sure he was where he needed to be and when', but maybe that applied more to interviews than it did to shows. After all, why wouldn't he know his own show schedule?

He stood up straight with a small laugh. "Yeah, I'm ready." He at least seemed happy to see her. "Soundcheck's delayed anyhow."

"Delayed? Why?"

"Agh, Richie and Tico have only just got up." He took some cologne out of his suitcase and sprayed some onto his wrists, rubbing a small amount into his neck. Amelia didn't have to smell it to know which scent it'd be, in all the time she'd known him he'd only used one cologne scent. He had a cologne routine if you will. The same scent, a spritz on the wrist, a dab on the neck and usually a touch below the belt. Thankfully he'd left out the last stage for decency.

Looking around his room she could only sigh and say he hadn't changed at all. Clothes everywhere even after just one night, an unmade bed, his boots carelessly strewn across the floor. The man would be scuppered when he moved out from his parents house, he'd probably need to hire a maid.

"How long is it delayed for?"

"An hour," Jon answered. "It won't matter, we've gotten pretty quick at it so long as there's no major technical errors."

"Alright, well if you don't need me I might go for a walk."

Jon stilled. "A walk?"

"Yes, a walk," she repeated.

"On your own? Where?"

"Not far, no further than a couple streets away."

"Can I go with you?"

"Why?" She realized belatedly that may have come off as rude. It was not her intention.

Jon stuttered slightly. "Well, you don't know these streets at all. You don't speak the language, you don't know the customs. I don't want you getting lost or running into trouble."

She could admit she was touched by his concern. If there was one thing that Jon Bon Jovi was it was caring to a fault.

"I'll be alright," she replied. She witnessed Jon deflate. In his eyes she saw a small, restless worry.

On second thoughts, would it really be too bad for him to tag along? Perhaps she could ask him more about her job roles, and also set some firm boundaries with him without the chance of the crew overhearing.

"But you can come if you really want."

Jon seemed extremely relieved. "Alright. Let me get some warmer clothes on, I'll meet you downstairs in the lobby."

Waiting in the lobby she tried to get some things straight in her mind. She wanted a friendship with Jon, sure, but she wanted it to be distant and professional at its roots. She didn't want anything that might remind her of her past with him, such as his little quips the night before.

Her initial assessment of him at Giants Stadium had been admittedly wrong. He wasn't arrogant, or at least not completely. On the contrast he was quite humble. Between talking with him after Giants Stadium, speaking with him on the phone and shopping last night in Tokyo she could tell that not a whole lot had changed about him aside from his looks and money.

She found herself still trying to pretend that the past hadn't happened. She acted like his new and shy employee rather than someone that'd known him since she was seventeen. To think of it was baffling, really. The pair had known each other like a married couple, how were they now supposed to go about their daily and professional lives together and forget that any of that happened?

If the pair were honest with themselves, neither could look at the other and not think about all they were to each other, it would be inhuman.

"Ready to go?" Jon asked with his boundless excitement.

"Yes." Amelia shook her thoughts quickly, putting on a brave smile.

The pair begun to stroll down the streets of Tokyo together in silence. Jon was pleased to merely accompany her and keep her safe. He'd learned his lesson in attempting conversation first, he didn't want to push her boundaries, at least not yet. Amelia looked for an avenue for professional conversation.

"Jon, what exactly is my job?"

Jon chuckled to himself. "Well, if I'm honest with myself I haven't got it all figured out yet. I was thinking about an assistant when you came along but the reason I hadn't already hired one was because I hadn't exactly worked it all out."

"I see," Amelia muttered.

"It's a job that'll probably fluctuate. Some days there'll be lots of work and some days there'll hardly be anythin'. As the tour goes on there'll probably be more. You'll handle small booking things, schedules, anything that Doc doesn't do."

"Okay," she said slowly. "So, you don't want me to check on you and make sure you're ready for shows?"

Both of them smiled humourously. "No, not really. I don't need a mom, I've already got one."

"Oh, good."

She wanted to ask about his family, his mother in particular had always meant a lot to her. And little Matty... He must've been so grown up now. Still, she couldn't ask about them, it would go against her own rules of -no talking about the past-. She assumed they must've been well, she'd never heard anything to the contrary.

"Are you excited for your show?" She asked cordially.

"Always," he grinned. "Japan's the best. The women love us here."

"Oh really?" Amelia questioned.

"Oh yeah," he said strongly. "Thought Giants Stadium was crazy? Oh no, wait till you see all the Japanese girls in the Budokan. We get more bras and panties on stage in one Japanese show than we get in the entire American leg of the tour."

"Really?"

"Well, slight exaggeration but pretty much, it's wild over here."

On second thoughts Amelia wasn't so surprised by it. The Japanese loved their pretty boys, and as much as Jon hated to admit it he really was rather pretty.

"The crowds are great in Japan," he went on to explain in a much more professional manner. "You'd think they'd be hard to connect with, y'know, don't speak a word of the English language n' all, but it's really the opposite. Music is a universal language, it don't matter that they don't understand your lyrics, the energy and the melodies exceed any language barrier."

Amelia admired how eloquently he put it. She'd often wondered how bands toured and connected with countries that didn't understand their language; now she had a small insight.

"N' it's always nice to have a line of pretty ladies in the front row," he grinned.

Amelia narrowed her eyes at him.

"What?" He laughed. "I'd rather have a front row of pretty women than middle aged drunk men with beer bellies."

She couldn't blame him on that point.

"How many times have you been to Japan?" She asked.

"Well, four now I think. We love it here and they love us, we try to give back to them by coming here first every year."

She nodded. "Richie told me."

"Yeah, they've been kind to us. If it weren't for our success in Japan on the first tour I doubt we'd even have made it to a second tour."

"Richie told me a lot about that tour," she said quietly. Some things that he'd told her she'd rather have forgotten. "He said you really struggled."

"Oh yeah, financially, emotionally, it was all just so gruelling." He spoke with such nonchalance about it all. It seemed he was really just happy to be out of that now. "The band were all sleepin' in the same room! When we were in Jersey my mom would have to bring us food most nights. We always say she gained another four sons. By the time the crew and our company got paid there was nothin' left for us."

Amelia didn't like hearing about it. She didn't want to picture them all struggling, not her brother, not David or Jon or even Tico and Alec whom she didn't know particularly well.

The idea of five grown men sharing a room, no matter how big, seemed awful. And Carol.. how had she been able to afford feeding them? Jon alone had always eaten at least two servings. Then again, he'd grown skinnier since she'd last seen him. Maybe it'd taken its toll on his body.

"Well look at you know," she said a little more jovially. "From what my brother tells me you could afford to buy an entire neighborhood."

Jon snickered, "Well, I wouldn't go that far, but we're doing alright for ourselves. Our hard work's paying off after all this time."

He regarded her happily, pleased to have slipped into a natural conversation with her.

"And what about you?" He dared to ask. "What have you been up to since I last saw you, a move to England? No notice?"

She laughed awkwardly. "Yeah, it was kind of a last minute thing. I wanted to take up my degree."

"Why in England?" He asked. She didn't want to answer that, she had a suspicion that they both knew why in England.

"I needed a fresh start," she replied. "I wanted to get away from everything that I knew, I wanted to leave my strict upbringing behind and move to some place different. Besides, where better to take an English Literature degree than in England?"

"I guess," he shrugged. "What was it like there?"

"In England? Haven't you been?"

"Well, not to do a degree, but sure we've been to Birmingham, Manchester, couple of the northern cities."

"Quite different to London I imagine," she muttered.

"Quite is an understatement," Jon scoffed. "Manchester and Birmingham are like the New Jerseys of England."

"You'd be correct," Amelia muttered. "The north is generally impoverished. Much of the country's wealth goes to the already richer areas."

"Sounds familiar."

She nodded.

"But what was London like?" Jon asked. "I've never been. How was your degree? What did you have to do?"

"London was lovely. If Birmingham, Manchester and Liverpool are New Jersey then London is New York. Still with its rough areas but largely glamorous on the exterior. It's expensive, though. I lived off noodles and beans on toast."

"You better not have brought beans on toast to America," he warned playfully.

"Do you know what? It's a rather nice, quick meal."

"Meal? It's an abomination!"

"Oh shush, you've never had it before."

"Thank god," he cried.

"The food there is not so bad as people make it out to be. A lot of it may not look like much but it at least tastes good."

"The boys and I had fish and chips a lot when we went there."

"Tastes good, right?"

"Sure," he conceded. "But remember, I've been brought up by my mother and father's good, Italian cooking. Nothin' beats that, darlin'."

Amelia had to admit that one of the things she missed the most about her early adult years was Jon's family's cooking. "I suppose so."

"If I had to guess you've developed a fondness for the place," Jon chuckled.

"Of course I have, I lived there for two years."

"What was the degree like?" He asked again. "What did you have to do for it."

"Oh, it was tedious really. Interesting but tedious. There was a lot of reading, we had to study people like Orwell and Shakespeare and Austen, some of which I enjoyed immensely but others I loathed. I always preferred to read on my own terms."

"I never was any good at readin', Mr Higgins used to have me in detention every day."

Well, that was until Amelia had come along. He wanted to spend his lunchtimes with her, and so the price of that was having to read awful texts and prose so to avoid Mr Higgins's detention. At the time, his friends had teased him for his new academic endeavours.

"Oh you would've been crippled by the workload," Amelia shook her head. "19th Century English text? Forgive me but you couldn't understand a word of it. Austen, the Brontë's and such, it's all just so different."

Jon laughed to himself. "Oh, I don't doubt it. That old English goes straight over my head. I'm a silly American in that way, I guess."

"I wouldn't call it old English. I merely mean you wouldn't understand the customs and such. They were books written in a completely different location and time period. I mean, not that I don't think you could understand if you wanted to, but having known you in the past I think it'd be one of those where you opened the first page and put it down within the first two sentences."

"I told you, I don't doubt it darlin'," he snickered. "I don't have the will to read any of those big philosophical books."

"It's not philosophy," she giggled.

"No but those other big old books, War n' Peace, if that's what it's called. All of 'em look too big for my taste. I like the simple things in life."

Amelia admired him for that. She herself preferred even a simple romance to Austen's more brilliant texts, she could never relax reading those.

"We had to do poetry as well, you would've hated that. And Shakespeare's plays."

"Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo!" He yelled out into the streets of Tokyo. Amelia cringed, on occasion she cursed his lack of inhibition. Admired it, but cursed it.

"Yes, we had to do a particular study on that one. You would've hated it."

"No, I think the inner romantic in me woulda loved that one."

"Take my word for it, you would've hated it. When you study the play more closely you realize how ridiculous it really is. I mean, those were Shakespeare's intentions but the fact that everyone takes it so seriously is ludicrous. It's almost made to make fun of itself and yet people worship it in complete sincerity."

Jon shrugged. "Well, I don't think I was ever cut out for college, or University."

"Well, dare I say you would've been a good music student?"

"Oh, no chance," he chuckled. "The theory? God, get it away. Sure I can write a decent song but when you start talkin' about parallel fifths and dissonant counterpoints you've lost me."

Music theory was not at all Amelia's strong point. She hardly knew what he was talking about.

"I still think you'd have done okay," she said. For all Jon's humility she stuck by her assessment that he would've made a good musician.

"No, you lose me at the classical stuff. I don't get it even when Dave tries to explain it all to me."

"But you could if you really tried. You're much more intelligent than you give yourself credit for."

"Yeah, maybe. I just don't have the will for it. Rock n' roll is where it's at for me, none of this classical stuff."

"Oh but you can't knock it," Amelia smiled. "Much of the rock and roll that you love has its roots in classical music."

Jon straightened and rolled his eyes. "You sound like my mother, she was always tryna get me to listen to all that as a kid."

Carol Bongiovi had loved a wide range of music, from the 1950s to the 1750s. Amelia appreciated her taste.

"It just ain't me, darlin'. If you wanna talk about classical music you best off askin' Davey, he was off to Julliard, he plays all kinds of sophisticated shit."

"Oh no, you know that rock music is my music love. I merely have a healthy respect for classical music."

"Guess I do too," Jon sighed. "I love film music, it's not too far off, right?"

"Not at all," she smiled. "Anyway, you're a smart man, I think if you really applied yourself to any academic subject you could achieve more than you give yourself credit for."

"Well that's kind of you, that's more credit than most give me. Guess it should mean a lot coming from an A* student."

"Oh stop," she snickered.

"I'm being serious. A* is no easy feat! Especially in England."

"You're right," she admitted. "But I had a lot of time to study. I'm not a partier, I didn't have many friends over there so I rarely went out. I spent most of my time in my little flat."

"Flat?"

"Apartment," she translated. "I missed Jersey though. I missed how rough it is around the edges. Everyone in England seems so posh even if they aren't by their standards. I'm glad to be home in America."

"And we've dragged you away straight away," he laughed. "At least it's Tokyo, I know you always wanted to come here."

"Indeed I did. It's a dream come true."

"Why wouldn't you let me buy that jacket for you last night?" He asked, taking Amelia off guard.

"Well, I didn't want you wasting your money on me."

"Wasting?" He laughed. "It wouldn't be a waste, not if you liked it."

"Yes, well you don't owe me anything. You know I never too much liked gifts, I always feel guilty."

"Well you shouldn't," he said somewhat firmly. "I like to buy gifts for people. I have money to do that now, I get people gifts any chance I get."

"Well, that's very kind of you," she said. "But I don't need your gifts. I'm happy to just tag along with you all and earn my keep."

Jon gave a small laugh and shook his head. She was an impossible woman.

"Have you done anything besides studying in the past few years? What about the time before you left?"

Jon knew it was a dangerous question to ask. That time frame was a gray area for the pair of them. Jon had been off on his tour and Amelia had been wallowing in her grief at home. Neither of them had had a particularly great time, not even Jon.

"Well, I didn't do much. I had my job at Burger King that I eventually quit. I thought to myself that I didn't want to work a nine to five for the rest of my life, and if was going to then I wanted to at least enjoy it. I could see my parents weren't too pleased, they always thought I was going to be some prodigy in.. something, some intellectual I guess. They thought me working in a fast food place was a complete and utter waste."

"It was," Jon frowned. "You could always do much better than that."

Amelia still felt uncomfortable about him referencing her past. She felt strange in general, her emotions were all over the place. She missed him and yet she wanted to stay away from him.

Strangely, this conversation was probably the most entertaining and most in-depth talk she'd had in years.

"Well I decided to take up further education. I got it all sorted in the summer and left in September."

"September?" Jon had often wondered just when exactly she'd left.

""Yes, September. I'd only been settled for a day or so before my first lesson."

Jon tried to hide his dismay. "That was just weeks before the end of the tour."

Amelia stopped. "What?"

"Weeks," he repeated. "We returned early October."

"October? But Richie told me you had an entire European leg left before that. You were on television talking about it."

"It was cancelled. We cancelled it."

Jon was growing jittery. The knowledge that Amelia had left just weeks before his return was enough to kill him. Would that have been enough to convince her to stay? Would she have toured with him?

He tried not to think that way. He was sure that she wouldn't have, Amelia had made her mind up about her degree at that point.

But his return would've been a gesture of his loyalty, she may have once again waited for him.

Amelia likewise was spiralling. She hadn't expected it, part of the reason she'd chosen to leave was because she believed Jon wouldn't have returned until January, almost a full year after he'd initially gone.

"Well why did you cancel it?" She asked, almost angrily. He never called her, ever. Richie was equally as terrible at communicating with her, and he was her brother!

"I dunno, it was a surprise. It's not typical to tour so long without a home break, we were all sick to death and completely burned, we cut the entire tour short and brought forward the recording of the album."

Amelia had often wondered if he really would've returned had she waited, and by the sounds of it he would've. She tried not to be too distraught about it, after all it still would never have worked out. He'd have gone straight back on tour and she'd have once again longed to complete her education. She needed to live her own life, not Jon's.

No, even if she had waited it would never have worked out. She was mostly confident she'd made the right decision in going to university.

Still, she had to wonder how things could've been, as dangerous as the thought was. She wondered what Jon must've thought when he returned. If he'd looked for her, what had been his reaction when she wasn't there? The possibilities were distressing.

"Well, it's no matter," Amelia said with hardened tone. "It's all in the past. Look at all you've achieved."

"Yeah," he muttered dryly. Why didn't I call her? He lamented. Why did I wait so long.

"Hell, with all that money you must be making what's stopping you from moving out?" She attempted a more jovial tone, though it was slightly cold. "Your poor mother's housed you for this long."

"Well, as a matter of fact I am thinkin' of getting myself a place. Actually, that can be a job for you in the coming weeks. I brought a couple leaflets with me, some houses n' such I've been wanting to look at. You can make some viewing appointments for me when I get back."

"Oh." Amelia was slightly surprised. "What sort of house are you looking for?"

"Nothing too fancy. Just a nice place in Jersey, maybe by the beach. I want a house that I'm gonna be in for a long time, somewhere I can raise a family someday."

Amelia was happy for him. To be able to shop for your forever home in your mind twenties was a real achievement these days. He'd certainly put the work in.

"You want a beach home?"

"You know I love the beach," he shrugged. He seemed haunted by their previous conversation, he could hardly look her in the eyes. "But I'm not sure yet. Heh, maybe I'd get a small beach home for the summer and a bigger place for the rest of the year."

Two homes. It'd be a long time before Amelia even paid off her debts, nevermind could afford a mortgage.

"Well, leave the leaflets with me."

"Alright."

The conversation never quite returned to what it once was. The pair walked back to the hotel quietly, commenting on the scenery or the impending show every once in a while, but never launching back into any meaningful conversation.

Amelia returned to her hotel to find the aforementioned jacket laying neatly in the center of her bed. Along with it was a note,

I lost the receipt, turns out it didn't fit me.

It read, barely. His handwriting had always bordered on illegible. He must've left it there for her in the period where she was waiting for him in the lobby. She tried it on in the full length bathroom mirror; it really was a lovely jacket.

She'd find some way to pay him back for it, she just wasn't quite sure how yet.

She wore it to soundcheck, feeling rather confident in her new chic clothes. She sat somewhere in the audience chairs with a book, alternating her attention between reading and watching the band do their soundcheck.

It made Amelia laugh. Once upon a time Jon would hop up on a bar stage with rented equipment and not a care in the world for the quality of sound. Now, he was a complete perfectionist. He didn't stop until all the audio levels and output were pristine and every instrument was tuned to the perfect frequencies. By that point hordes of Bon Jovi fans were already starting to queue outside the stadium.

Amelia made her way backstage and prepared herself for the band's show, making sure she had all of Jon's post-show comforts at the ready.

And then, beginning the show with Tokyo Road, Bon Jovi rocked Japan.

---

Thank you all for 1k reads btw :))

Here's the new chapter, lots of talking not much action. Longest one yet (though not very long if you've read my other story)

Let me know all your thoughts! Hope you enjoyed :)