May 4th 1987 / Phoenix, Arizona

The Bon Jovi tour schedule had continued into May. It was clear to everybody involved that the band had long since burned out, the only thing keeping Jon going was the renewed excitement of young love.

Sneaking around was annoying, sure, however Jon hadn't anticipated the childish thrill he received each time he pulled Amelia around a corner and kissed her out of sight.

He snuck into her hotel room each night after the shows. Amelia was always delighted to see him, her happiness had increased exponentially since having him back. The pair were crazy for each other.

"Need you," Jon murmured, his lips barely parted from her as he shucked off his jacket and discarded it across the room.

"How do you have any energy after that show?"

Even as she verbally protested, Amelia was complying with his every bodily command. Her back had hit the bed, her shirt was off, hickeys were already forming on her collarbone and she could barely keep her mouth away from his skin.

"Up," he demanded, and as she lifted her hips he pulled both her jeans and panties off. "Fuck."

He couldn't get to her fast enough, his jeans were only halfway down his thigh by the time he thrust himself into her.

"Fuck!" he repeated much louder. Post-show fucking had become somewhat of a ritual. "God, get these fuckin'-"

He pulled away for a moment to shuck his jeans off, tripping over his own feet twice and falling face first into Amelia's thigh. The pair were giggling like hyenas as Jon scrambled up to kiss her again, this time free of his denim confines.

"Oh, Princess," he grinned, "I'm gonna tear you apart."

Amelia had never been so excited by such a vulgar expression. Her nails dug into the smooth flesh of his back, likely leaving red welts. She bit down on her forearm to refrain from crying out his name. The sound of skin slapping filled the spacious hotel room, Jon's pants grew quicker and quicker the longer he went.

"Faster," she squeaked.

"Faster? You wanna try bein' on top sometime, never mind after runnin' around for three hours singin'."

Amelia whined. "But I need you faster."

Jon huffed, sitting back on his haunches and pulling Amelia further down by the thighs.

"God woman, you're insatiable," he muttered before resuming at a faster pace.

"Hey man-"

Jon leapt off Amelia and pulled the twisted covers over her naked body.

His sweat-covered neck turned instantly cold. He knew the timbre of their intruder's voice better than he knew the veins in his own hand. Amelia screamed, clutching the thin, white covers to her bare, love-bitten chest.

"Rich-" Jon outstretched a hand. The guitarist's face was the pinnacle of fury.

"What the fuck is going on here?" he yelled, fists balling at his sides.

"Richie," Amelia whispered. If she'd been able to foresee the expression of hurt etched so painfully into his features, she would never have entertained the idea of a date with Jon.

Richie's gaze stabilised on her for a fleeting moment. His little sister was the only truly innocent person he'd ever known. A breath of fresh air amongst the rockstar debauchery he witnessed each day, now laying tangled in spoiled sheets with a man Richie had labelled as his best friend. His brother, even.

His brother, in bed with his damned sister. What kind of sick and perverted nightmare had he stumbled upon.

"Rich, it isn't what it looks like," Jon reasoned.

Richie's nostrils flared mightily. His thoughts flew by so rapidly that he had no time to form words with them, instead his fists drove toward the man laying beside his sister.

"Richie!" Amelia screamed as he seized Jon from the bed. He took no notice of her horror filled gaze, nor the pleas of the naked man that he currently held by the shoulders.

The shorter man attempted to regain some modesty by hunching over and covering himself. Richie couldn't have given a rats ass for dignity in that moment.

"Rich-"

"My sister, man," he spat, shoving Jon's shoulders into the adjacent wall. "You coulda chosen any fuckin' whore in this world and you chose to fuck my damn sister."

"Richie please," Amelia wept from beside them. "It isn't like that, you don't understand."

Richie took no notice of the borderline panic-attack Amelia was experiencing behind him, he had his own tears of betrayal to worry about.

"Stay the fuck outta this." He grabbed Jon by the shoulders again. If he was dressed he might've thrown a punch or two, instead he looked at him with utmost disgust. "Look me in the fuckin' eyes," he demanded, smacking him when he didn't. Jon turned his gaze upward, in his friend's eyes he saw only the most profound hurt.

"Rich, let me explain."

"Explain?" Richie spat. "You fucked my sister! What is there to explain?"

"I love him, Richie!" Amelia cried emphatically. Her chest spasmed as tears poured down her cheeks. "Please, it isn't what you think."

The word 'love' had made the hairs on Richie's neck stand still. He discarded Jon and turned to his sister.

"Let me explain, I can make it all right."

Richie scoffed. He looked her up and down; tear stained, clad in nothing but a stained bedsheet.

He didn't have to say it, Amelia knew exactly what he was thinking.

"You disgust me," he said; a far kinder statement than Amelia knew he meant.

Both lovers watched him storm out and slam the door. Amelia haphazardly threw on Jon's bathrobe and hurried down the hallway, dismissive of Jon's frantic calls.

"Richie!" she banged on his door, unbothered of causing a ruckus. "Give me a chance to explain."

He opened the door at her incessant rapping.

"You disgust me," he sneered before she could get a word in. "I invite you to our tour, our company pays for all your keep, I say you don't even have to work! And what do you do to repay me? You fuck my best friend, your own damn boss."

"It isn't like that."

"Oh, yeah, don't tell me, you 'love him'. You know what Amelia? I thought you were fuckin' smart. You think you're special? You know how many times a day he has girls tell him he loves him?"

Amelia understood that Richie was hurt, and because of his hurt he was firing off the most heinous insults he could conjure. However, that didn't mean Amelia's horror-filled gasp was any less authentic.

"It is different," she stressed emphatically. "He loves me."

Richie scoffed and turned away.

"Richie, please." Amelia summoned all her tenderness as she reached for his hand. "I have a lot to explain. Will you just listen to me?"

"Listen to you? After I walk in on you getting fucked by my best friend?" He snatched his hand away and wiped it on his jeans.

"You make it sound so vulgar, won't you let me explain? He's my boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?" Richie's eyes boggled. "Don't be ridiculous. Jon doesn't do girlfriends."

"I've known him since high school, won't you sit down?" Her voice quickened. "He was my high school boyfriend for four years. I wanted to tell you but you made it so difficult, you were always so judgemental like Daddy, I couldn't confide in you, I wanted to, believe me."

A glacial cold settled over Richie's eyes. He looked frankly murderous.

"Four years?"

His voice was despicably calm.

"You were with him for four years?"

Amelia clamped down on her lip and nodded. The confirmation sent Richie into an endless spiral.

"You mean this whole time? All of it? Every time I spoke to you both it was all a lie?"

"No, Richie," Amelia denied falsely. "We only just got back together, I didn't want to lie."

"That's where you were all break!" He yelled spitefully. "You were with him, not Spankie! You were there, you- you, his neck."

Amelia was crying as she watched her brother piece all of the fragments together. He seemed devastated, it was exactly how she feared.

"His neck was all bruised- it was you! You were there when I went round. He told me he had some secret mistress but it's all lies."

Richie could've pummelled Jon.

"He told me-"

Amy-Leah? Richie hadn't thought twice about the name beforehand.

"Is this all some big joke to you?" He shouted, startling Amelia. "Amy-Leah? Is that funny to you? Were you and him giggling about that? Thinkin' how much of an idiot I was?"

"No, Richard," she spoke firmly. "None of this is a joke, I've hardly been able to sleep at night because I've been worried about having to eventually come clean to you, Mom, and Dad. I've been so frightened that everything would go to pot."

"So you thought me eventually finding out the hard way would be better??"

"No," she cried, "I just needed time, I wasn't ready. I didn't know how to explain our past together, I still don't."

"Your high school boyfriend?" he spat. "My fuckin' singer is your high school boyfriend, and you didn't think to mention it? You lied to me all that time, every time you told me you had no boyfriend- or you told me about that Luke guy, or Mark, I don't know. What the fuck, Amelia! Why? Why didn't you trust me?"

"I tried to, Richie! You threatened him at every opportunity you had. You looked down on rockstars despite being one yourself. You were a nightmare! You made it so difficult to contact him. Jon and I just wanted to be together, I couldn't risk you ratting me out to Mom and Dad nor inciting a physical altercation with Jon like you so often threatened."

"You've lied to me for nearly a decade!"

"I'm sorry!" she screamed. "Please, can't you just sit down? I want to explain it all to you."

"I can't fucking look at you! Get out of my sight."

"Richie, please," she begged once again.

"No," he held a menacing finger to her face. "You lie to me, you fuck my best friend behind my back and now you want me to forgive you? What, eight fuckin' years that you two have been messin' around behind my back? I thought you hardly knew each other! He's your boss for God's sake, or is that all bullshit too?"

"No," she sniffled, "I didn't want to hurt you, Richie, he and I only got together again a few weeks ago. I refrained from rekindling with him because I didn't want to hurt you, in the end I couldn't help it. He took me on this wonderful date during break; it all came back to me. I love him."

He shook his head and perched on the edge of the bed. "Get away from me, Amelia."

"Richie-"

"I said get out. I can't be near you right now, and if I so much as see Jon-"

"You won't be angry at him, will you?" She pleaded, tears streaming down her cheeks. "He wanted so desperately to tell you, he always did. It was me that kept it from you, he never wanted to go behind your back."

Richie couldn't begin to disguise his hurt. He'd known Amelia had been distant with him, he'd known he wasn't the world's greatest brother, but to know that she'd deliberately deceived him? Didn't trust him at all? He couldn't look at her.

"Leave me, Amelia. I need time alone."

"Richie, promise me," she panicked, wanting to hug him.

"For Christ's sake, how many times do you gotta be told? Get the fuck away from me. And tell your bastard boyfriend to stay the fuck outta my sight. I gotta call Mom and Dad."

"No. You can't! Please, Richie I beg you. I'm not ready for them to know just yet, I need to tell them on my own in person. You can't take that from me, I need to explain everything."

"Why shouldn't I?" he spat. "Why should you think you deserve that right."

Amelia was starting to hyperventilate at the mere thought of her parents knowing. What would her mother say? Her father! She needed to sit down with them, ease them into it, explain her reasonings in a true heart to heart- Richie couldn't ruin what was to be such an important moment, even if she deserved it.

"Please," she cried. "I'll do anything Richie, I'll tell them as soon as I get home."

"I'll think about it," he muttered coldly. "So long as you get out."

He moved to the door and held it open for her. If looks could kill...

She had no choice but to trudge on out.

He took no pity on her, even as tears flowed freely down her face he felt nothing but fury. Then, he slammed the door.

Amelia broke down in the hotel hallway. Jon was there to greet her having thrown on a hoodie and some sweatpants.

"'Melia," he cooed pitifully, scooping her up into his embrace. "It's all right, it's okay."

She buried her face deep into his chest and wailed. "It's all my fault. He's going to tell them everything. He hates me!"

"Tell who?" Jon asked, dragging his fingers through her messy hair. "He doesn't hate you, don't be silly."

"He's going to tell my parents," she hiccupped. "I need to be the one to tell them, I already messed up Richie, I can't mess this up too."

"It's all right," he soothed, peppering small kisses across her head. She tremored violently in his arms; he was worried about her. "It'll be okay. Take deep breaths, Richie will be fine, he's just in shock."

"He thinks I'm a whore!" she sobbed. "My parents will think I'm a whore- they won't want anything to do with me, they didn't raise a liar."

"Amelia, stop it now. You're working yourself up."

She gasped, looking at him frightfully like a deer in the headlights. "My mother- she'll be heartbroken I didn't-"

"Stop it," Jon ordered, pressing a finger to her lips. She continued to hyperventilate; thoughts ran faster than she could voice them, instead all that came out were whimpers and gasps.
Richie, her parents; she could hardly breathe with the guilt, the anxiety. She saw the fear in Jon's eyes as he tried to shake her out of it.

"It's all my fault-" she cried breathlessly, "I'm a terrible daughter." Her throat started to burn, chest and lungs constricted.

"Amelia, you gotta breathe. Stop panicking, you'll make yourself sick."

"What if the band breaks up??"

"What?!" Jon scoffed, taking her face between his hands. "Stop. Stop it, you're scaring me. Let it go, it'll be fine, nothin's gonna happen."

"Why- how- you forgot to lock the door! How could you-?"

Her face turned pale; a sickly expression passed over her.

"Millie, look at me. Whatever's happening-"

With one final short breath, she passed out in his arms.

***

Jon had been sitting by Amelia's bedside for twenty minutes. He'd carried her all the way to Doctor Edwards' suite where Edwards had been able to diagnose her with a rather extreme case of hysteria.

It didn't take her long to wake up from her spell; it was good to see an air of calm about her once more.

"Hey there," Jon crooned, "You gave us quite the fright."

Amelia rubbed her bleary eyes. She hadn't expected Jon's face to be hovering directly above her, consuming perhaps sixty percent of her vision. His brows were bundled with worry.

"What happened?" she asked hurriedly.

"You passed out," Jon supplied.

"I did?"

"Yes," Doctor Edwards confirmed, a kind smile on his face. "Mr Bon Jovi tells me you had quite the fright. It's atypical for people to truly faint during a panic episode, you must've been extremely overwhelmed."

"Yeah," Jon cooed, "What were you thinkin' baby? Workin' yourself up over somethin' like that. You scared the crap outta me. All of us, actually. Spankie, Dave.. and especially Richie."

"They all saw?"

"Course they saw. Our crew aint nothin' but a band of nosy gits. They came out as soon as they heard the commotion between you n' Rich. I think most of 'em were able to piece it together."

Amelia buried her face into her palms.

"Oh goodness." How dreadfully embarrassing!

"What got you into such a frenzy, baby?" Jon asked softly, prying her hands away from her face. "You started sayin' things that made no sense at all, I was scared shitless, nothin' I did seemed to help you."

"I don't know," she murmured, conscious of the doctor beside her. "It was all pent up I suppose. Everything came to a head, every worry I've had over the past eight years seemed to be coming true. I'm not always the most rational in situations regarding my family."

Jon scooted closer and wrapped her up in a warm embrace. She felt the tension in his torso; in her frenzy she'd forgotten she wasn't the only person with stakes here, Richie was his best friend too.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled into his shoulder. "It was silly to react like that."

She still trembled in his arms; Jon could sense her fragility, her mental turmoil.

"It's gonna be alright, you know that Mills? Richie's pissed off but he'll get over it. Your parents will understand, they know how love can be."

"How can I even face Richie? After what he saw."

She sent a surreptitious glance toward the doctor, whom despite his professionalism looked a great deal amused by the relationship drama.

"He'll get over it," Jon chuckled with a kiss to her nose. "All he saw was my pasty ass anyhow."

The doctors silent amusement transformed into a laugh. "I take it then that you're feeling well, Miss Sambora? That my presence is no longer required?"

Upon confirmation, he excused himself politely. Jon took pleasure in stealing a long-lasting kiss from her lips, breathing her scent deeply.

“Richie was real worried,” Jon repeated softly. “He came out as soon as he heard me yell.”

“Did he say anything to you?”

“Only to accuse me of being the reason you passed out. His eyes said the rest. Your brother wants me dead, darlin’.”

Amelia hoisted herself up and buried her worried face in her hands.

“What would you do?” she questioned carefully. “What if you had a sister and you caught her making love with Richie, or Dave, or anyone. How would you react?”

She wanted to believe her brother wasn’t entirely irrational. She understood the betrayal, the heartache he must’ve been experiencing. She also realized that it wasn’t a pleasant thing for any brother to witness.

“I don’t know,” Jon responded, a finger on his chin as he looked to the ceiling. “I guess I’d be a little hurt. Worried, too, because I know Rich can be unintentionally callous when he’s done with his womenfolk, but I think I’d come round in a couple days.”

“Would you have thought she was a whore?”

He laughed fondly. “No, I don’t think so.”

But Jon wasn’t like Richie, and the hypothetical situation she’d created was nothing like the reality she was living.

“I understand Richie, darlin’,” Jon said softly, “He’s hurting and he’s worried about you. I like to think his opinion of me is slightly different, but he knows how rockstars can be. If I had a little sister I think I’d wanna wrap her up in bubble wrap to protect her from this world we live in. As a man you worry about the girls you love. I worry about you, I worry about my mother. I wanna protect all you ladies but there’s only so much you can do before you smother them. Rich loves you so much that he wants you all to himself, he doesn’t wanna have to see another man come along and crush your heart.”

“Where is he?”

“In his room, I think. You want me to go get him?”

Amelia nodded.

Jon knocked on Richie’s door. The answer came within a second.

“What do you want?”

“Amelia’s awake,” Jon sighed. “She wants to speak to you.”

The taller man pushed past, heading down the hallway to Jon’s suite.

“Rich.” Jon struggled to keep up with the guitarist’s pace. “Go easy on her, alright? She thinks the world of you, you’re her big brother.”

“Yeah, maybe she shoulda thought of that before she let you fuck her brains out.”

“Knock it off, man. I’m crazy about her, why do you think I stopped taking groupies? She’s vulnerable right now, just take it easy.”

Richie held a sharp finger to Jon’s face. “Don’t tell me about my own damn sister.”

Jon gave up following him, kicking the wall nearby as an outlet for his immense frustrations.

Amelia was there to greet Richie immediately upon his arrival. She wrapped her arms around his lanky frame and squeezed him tight. Richie didn’t have the heart to pull away.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Her little brown eyes peered up at him, all weepy and watery. “I made every wrong decision that was presented to me. I was a coward and a complete asshole not only to you but to Jon, who deserved more than the half-assed loyalty I paid him. And now I’m going to be audacious enough to ask for your forgiveness.”

Richie tilted his head to the heavens, asking his Lord for advice and consolation.

Truth was, he wasn’t ready to forgive her. Not yet, the wound was still too fresh.

Amelia understood his silence all too well.

“Are you hurt?” was all that Richie asked. “Did you hit your head or anything?”

“No,” she shook her head. “Jonny caught me.”

Richie rolled his eyes and stepped out of the embrace.

“Richie, please,” she followed him as he moved toward the window. “I’ve been worried sick. Every night I thought about how I was going to tell you.”

“You know what? I’ve figured it all out,” Richie exclaimed. “He broke your heart and you moved to England! You fucked off to England just after the tour.”

He shook his head and scoffed. “Unbelievable.”

“You made it impossible to tell you,” she accused. “You were as hostile as Daddy when it came to boys. I was worried you might even hurt Jon if you were to find out! You were at that teenage stage with all your rampant testosterone, practically hunting for altercations and fist fights. You would have ratted me out to Daddy, everything would’ve gone to pot.”

“And look what happened, he broke your heart,” he mocked.

“Do I look broken-hearted? He had to tour, look at everything you’ve all achieved because he was brave enough to take that step. All I want now is for our families to be happy together.”

“Forgive me for not being overjoyed."

“Do you understand why I never told you? I tried to, Richie, I did. I tried to tell you about ‘Mark’, only you were so hostile. I ran away multiple times! You knew that something was going on, you told me if you ever got your hands on him you’d ‘give him a seeing to’."

“Every fuckin’ time I told you about Jon, you pretended you had no idea who he was!” Richie argued, his face turning red. “When I introduced you, you feigned ignorance! Every single fuckin’ time I’ve spoken to you both you’ve been concealin’ this big fuckin’ lie. And you expect me to just move on from that? I’ve been lied to for years by the two people I loved the most. I don’t care about whatever you have to say now that the damage is done.”

“Loved?” Amelia choked. The past-participle?

“Love,” he amended with an eye roll. “Don’t be stupid, Amelia, of course I fucking love you. Do you think I’d be so hurt if I didn’t? I can’t see you right now. Or Jon. I need to be alone for a while.”

“But we need to talk it out,” Amelia argued. “Properly! There’s so much to explain, I’m sure you’d understand more-“

Jon appeared behind them at the doorway. Richie held a hand to his sisters face.

“Amelia! No, alright?” he snapped. “You don’t always get what you want. You can’t demand that I sit around and listen to you after you’ve lied to me for so long. Not everything can be fixed with an apology or an explanation.”

“But what can I do?”

“I don’t know, think on it!”

“C'mon, Rich. Don’t yell at her.”

Richie turned around, surprised to see Jon standing behind him.

“She isn’t a baby, she can handle it. She doesn’t need you protecting her.”

“She’s stressed,” Jon countered, “She just passed out, she doesn’t need this right now.”

“She’s twenty-five! That’s old enough to deal with the consequences of her own fucking actions. She doesn’t need babying.”

Amelia collapsed into a chair beside the window. Richie was right, she wasn’t deserving of special treatment.

She certainly didn’t feel like twenty-five right now, merely an overgrown, spoiled, bratty teenager.

Richie took one last look at his sister before leaving.

“Come here, sweetheart.”

Jon hoisted her up into his arms and carried her like a baby.

“What’s happening to me?” she fretted.

“Nothing’s happening to you.” He smiled and pushed a hair out of her face. “It’s just like you said, all these pent-up emotions are coming out at once. You’ll feel better once you’ve had some food and a good night’s sleep."

“How can I possibly tell my parents? How do I make it right with Richie? What can I do?”

“I believe in you,” he cooed. “You’re strong, baby. You’ll feel much better in the morning.”

“I don’t feel so strong.”

“That’s because all the weight of the past eight years has come crashing down on you at once. But I’m here to help you carry it, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

“You’ll help me tell my parents?”

He shook his head. “That’s something you have to do on your own. I know you know that.”

Unfortunately, she did.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I could have avoided all of this if only I was brave.”

He smiled affectionately.

“Mistakes happen, sweetheart. We learn from them.”

“I guess,” she muttered.

Jon lowered her back onto the ground. “Come on. Get dressed. I’m gonna take you out for food.”

“Food?” she gasped. “But it’s almost midnight. And I’m not sure I’m quite in the mood to go out.”

“Well, it’s no good sulking,” Jon smiled, handing her a pair of his sweatpants. “C’mon. There’s a Pizza Hut around the corner, we can get some fresh air and talk things out.”

---

😲 dun dun DUN.

The cat's out of the bag. And Richie is MAD.

I had so much fun writing this chapter and even MORE fun writing the next, which is already half done.

Let me know your opinions 🥰 and/or predictions. I love to hear your feedback.