Ch. 9

When Jon got to the hotel room, Dorothea appeared to be fast asleep.

“Thank God.” He thought as he crept past the bed and into the bathroom. Wanting to keep things quiet, he shut the door in an attempt to ward off the bright bathroom lights that could peek through, thus waking her up.

He truly did not want to deal with her now. He looked at himself in the mirror. He appeared tired, but not as bloated as he was a couple of days ago in New Jersey.

He touched his throat. It felt a little tender; he knew he had overdone it. Talking so much to Trina combined with singing for 3 hours straight didn’t help matters any.

Next to the sink, Jon had a small, black toiletry bag. He opened it, took out two cough drops and popped them promptly into his mouth.

The mint coating slowly dissolved his mouth leaving a cool liquid that felt fantastic on the back of his throat. He would need to talk as less as possible from this point on. His voice needed to work a lot over the few days. Any overuse could end this tour for months. A luxury he couldn’t afford.

Jon peeled off his clothes. A shower with its steam would work wonders for his voice. It would open up his throat, but most of all ultimately relax him a bit. He turned on the water and simply waited for it to warm up.

He quickly jumped in, letting the water wash over him. It temporarily took any pain or frustration he may have had that day down the drain.

Jon closed his eyes. He thought of how much fun he had on stage, the interview he had with Trina, hanging with Trina at the Bowery…Pretty much he was thinking of Trina all the time.

He felt such an instant connection with her. He wanted to stay to make sure that her review was the best she could do. He wanted to stay to see her smile, but mostly he wanted just to stay and talk to her. So far, she had been the most truthful person around him and the guys. He needed that now. He didn’t know if he could last on this tour much longer if he didn’t have that.

Jon took the body shampoo from the shower caddy. He poured it on himself from head to toe. The suds cradled into every chiseled part of him. From framing his perfects abs to down and around the small of his back, “ I wonder how she did with her review?” he suddenly thought. “She was so nervous.”

He went underneath the water once more, he turned the water off and grabbed a towel from the caddy.

He dried his trademark long hair. The sandalwood smell of the body shampoo lingered warmly to his skin.

He wrapped another towel around his waist, watching the small droplets dance around his legs. Now relaxed, he was grateful to go to sleep and deal with all the problems tomorrow.

When he opened the door, Dorothea was sitting up at the front of the bed leering at him. He took a deep breath and sat down at the foot of the bed. His blue eyes glared through with hers like daggers.

“I heard you in the shower.” She whispered. Jon rolled his eyes. “ Not now.” He told her.

“I’m sorry I interfered. “ She said. “I know you and watch what others do for you. I just assumed that I could help-“ she said.
”If you knew me. You know I can give a rat’s ass about what sells a magazine or a newspaper.” He interrupted.

Tears welled up in her eyes. “I love you so much.” She told him.

“Do you? Or do you like what you think I am?” he said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she said.

“Maybe I’m not that person. It’s like you believe what the magazines like Teen, Circus and Hit Parader are saying. “ He told her bluntly.

“It’s true. What they’re saying is true.” She said.

“Bullshit!” he snapped.

“There is more to me than my fucking hair and my ass!” he yelled.

Dorothea nodded. “I know that, but to keep you on top, I had to tell her off. She needs to keep to the profile of how you’re perceived. When things slow down a bit, then do those types of interviews. I don’t care.” She said.

“Since when did you start becoming my manager.” He asked.

“I’m not trying to be your manager. I’m watching out for you. I’m trying to make sure you make as much money as possible.”

“Or else what?” he interrupted.

‘For yourself.” She cried. He snickered and stood up.

“In the morning, I want you gone. When I get back to Jersey. I want your stuff out of the house!” he told her angrily. He began to walk towards the door.

“Where are you going?” she cried.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll go to Obie’s room, maybe Richie’s room. Hell, maybe I’ll grab some clothes and go to Trina’s. “ He said sarcastically.

“Did you fuck her?” Dot asked him. “Was that what that display was for onstage?” she cried.

“We’re done. I don’t owe you a freakin thing.” He said.

“Yes, you do! You owe me everything! I stuck by you when you were a gopher in New York. Hell, I put up with you with that whole Diane Lane drama! Now you’re going to tell me to go because I’m watching out for you? Because I open my mouth and don’t take your bullshit? Fuck you! Have fun on the rest of this tour!” she said jumping out of the bed.

She was sobbing uncontrollably. Jon couldn’t help but to feel a mixture of sympathy and anger. She was right in a way. She didn’t have to stay through his different phases anymore than he did with her now.

Dorothea continued to pack with nervous intensity. She peered through the closet picking up anything she could. Jon stood motionless.

“The least you can do is help me. You want me gone so bad; or maybe that’s just little too much truth for you.” She cried.

Jon bent down, he began to help her; however he was silent, his eyes slowly filled up with tears. D Dorothea was going to pick up a shoe she had dropped when Jon reached for it at the same time. Her hand was underneath his; he loved how soft they were. He missed the feeling of being invincible whenever he held her. It was they against the world. Nothing could tear them apart.

He couldn’t help but to look at her huge brown eyes, streaming tears endlessly down her face. Jon took his hand from hers and began to wipe her face.

Still crying, Dorothea took her hand and placed it over his. “I am so sorry.” She whispered. “Please don’t make me leave.” She pleaded.

Jon slowly bent down, his warm lips brushed against hers, tasting briefly the salt of the tears. She took his arms and wrapped them around her torso. She missed being this close to him. Jon continued to kiss her, his tongue glided tenderly over her mouth; his breath so sweet intoxicated her.

Loving her taste, his kisses quickened, their breathing; although shallow, was now in unison.

His kisses now travelled to the nape of her neck. She held onto to him for as long as she could. Never had she ever wanted anyone so badly.

His hand went underneath hers touching her firm breast. Swiftly, she lifted her shirt off and threw it carelessly on the bed.

The tears of sadness had seemingly been replaced by urgency and hunger.

Jon pushed her down on the carpet. Dorothea buried herself into his chest. The smells of both sweat and sandalwood continued to consume her.

Involuntarily her hand traced around his chest. His hand covered hers, letting her feel his heart beat wildly. It was so loud that he thought it would leap out of this chest.

His kisses went down upon her chest and down her stomach.

The two of them felt so desperate, that she lifted her hips towards his, thrusting slowly. She couldn’t help but to beg for release.

Moving rhythmically with her, Jon loved the feeling of them together.

“Please Jon. “ Dorothea cried.

With one swift movement, he pulled own her sweats, and entered her. The swiftness combined with the sudden fullness of what he done made them both gasp for air. He braced his hands on either side of the floor. They began to pump slowly, familiarizing themselves with their body rhythm.

Jon continued to straddle the floor, thrusting endlessly inside her. He missed this with her; he needed to be even closer to her. He lifted her hips to his. She cried out in pleasure. He began to moan. His thrusts had begun to get more frenzied.

“Oh Jon…Oh...” said Dorothea pumping just as quickly as him now. He began to slow down a bit, she watched Jon lift his head as he as slowly came inside her. The blue eyes that were full of anger only minutes before had turned to warm and loving.

Dorothea felt her stomach turnover. She began to cry. She got up and put on her shirt and sweatpants. She began to look feverishly around for that shoe. Jon looked puzzled.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her. Raking his hand over his hair. “ I missed you so much.” She cried.

“I’m here.” He said tenderly. “I’m still Jonny; you’re Jonny. “ He told her.

Finding the shoe, she hastily put it in the bag and walked towards the door.

“You’re right.” She said.

“About what?” He asked.

“Just realized at that moment. How much we have grown apart.” She said. “When was the last time we made love like that?” she asked him. Jon looked blankly at her.

“That’s the point. You’re right Jon. It’s time for me to go. “ She told him opening up the door. Jon stared at her. Tears again began to well up in his eyes.

“Bye, I love you.” She said walking out the door.

He continued to stare blankly at the door. He was motionless. Jon loved her, but yet he couldn’t keep up something that wasn’t there anymore. He was nervous, saddened and relieved. Not to mention dead tired.

He lay down on the bed, hoping that sleep could shed not only new light on the past; but pave the way for the future.

Ch. 8

The newsroom at the Philly Post was bustling. It was in the wee-hours of the morning; the editors were having both reviewers and reporters do one last polish of their stories before going to print.

Jon was intrigued. He put on his sunglasses because the bright, fluorescent light, glaring on various dry-erase boards and photo printers was too much. Especially at this early hour.

He watched Trina greet everyone. To his bemusement and to her amazement, not one staff member recognized him. They all thought he was a friend that she brought with her to the show.

She sat down at her desk. He pulled up a chair next to her from a neighboring desk and sat behind her.

Trina took out her notepad, some pens, and an extra notepad. She placed them neatly in front of her.

Jon stared curiously at her as she simply watched the items she placed on the desk for several minutes.

“Trina, you okay? “ Jon asked.

Trina sat and continued to look at the items she placed on the desk. She nodded. Jon looked at his watch.

“What time’s your deadline? “ he asked.

Trina looked at the clock. “Ninety minutes from now.”

He put his hand underneath his chin and watched her think furiously over what she needed to do. Meanwhile, he’s wondering how she could think with the radio blaring at full blast and people running back and forth as if they were chickens with they’re heads cut off. Jon took a deep breath and put his arm around Trina’s shoulder. Trina closed her eyes. She had never been more nervous yet felt more invincible.

“You can do this.” He told her. “I can’t tell you what to write. You saw it, you felt the energy, and you’ve talked to me and the guys.”

“But-“ Trina said.
”It’ll be fine. It’s your interpretation. I’m going to see it differently than you.” He told her picking up the notebook.

He began to leaf through the pages of notes she had collected from the evening. He smiled as he began to read through them.

Trina glanced over at him. He shook his head. He flashed a grin across his face. Puzzled by his concentration, she looked down in an attempt to see what he was looking at. His grin never waivered.

“What?” she asked. He took his arm from her shoulder; he continued to leaf through the pages of the notes as if he was reading a novel.

“This is good.” Jon replied.

“It’s not done.” She said appearing nervous.

“This is real good. Why are you acting so defensive?” he asked.

No one had ever seen what she wrote on a rough first draft before. Not even Darryl or Kendall. To her they were for feelings, impressions and mere suggestions of all that she saw. It was too raw, too naked. After some tweaking, she’d be able to work all of those problems out when she did the final draft of her review.

“Jon, it’s not done.” Trina reiterated. She attempted to take the notebook from him. He lifted up his sunglasses and flipped open a random page.

“The band had the crowd under its spell. For my first Bon Jovi show, the excitement and joy, wound up this sold-out audience like a top. With Jon Bon Jovi as its captain, he not only played pied piper by weaving intricate tales of love and commitment, but also found mutual ground with his peers, a rarity these days. “ Jon read. “That’s fantastic!”

Trina smiled. “That was good wasn’t it? “

“Yeah.” He nodded. “See, I knew you could do it.” He told her.

“Start rewriting. “ Jon said reaching over, grabbing the empty notebook and pen.

She looked over at him. “And you’re going to watch me finish this? Does Dot watch you write?”

“No.” he said. “But you…you get it. We’re on the same page.” Jon told her.

“Huh?” Trina said.

Jon nodded. “You get me. You’re not talking about how cute my ass is or what shampoo I used to wash my hair with this morning. You never had been to a show, but you watched and listened to me. You got it right the first time. Rare thing indeed.”

He looked over proudly at Trina. He was beaming.

“It’s cool to see someone with whom after everything is all said and done, get it. It’s an honor for any songwriter or journalist. Thank you. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten a review like that before.” He continued.

He stood up, bent over her and kissed her gently on her forehead. His lips were so warm against her cool skin. He brushed her hair back. He didn’t want to leave her. The two of them had such a great time that he never wanted this night to end. However, he knew that if he didn’t go, she wouldn’t finish the review. He knew that he was making her too nervous.

“What was that for?” she asked.

“Thank you.” He said. “I’m actually not going to watch you write, but actually go back to the hotel.” He told her rolling his eyes in disgust at the thought of seeing Dorothea at 1:30 in the morning.

“You want to wait and I’ll give you a ride back?” she asked.

‘No.” he replied. “I’ll walk. It’s cool. No more crowds for the night, it’s not that far. Besides, I need to clear my head.”

“Tell her Jon.” Trina said.

He sighed and nodded. “Okay.” He said weakly.

“You’ll feel better when you do.” Trina reassured him.

“I doubt it. But…whatever. You’re right.” He mumbled.

“Goodnight.” She said.

Jon walked to the door.

“Goodnight. “ he said as passed by a night pre-press foreman who was holding the door open for him. The foreman took a quick glimpse of the young man. Jon smiled back at him and walked out the door. The foreman looked at Trina. He was speechless.

“Mmmm. Was that? Ummmm-“ he said.

Trina nodded. “Yep.”

The foreman looked back at the door. “Really?” he asked.

“Yep.” She replied.

“What was he doing here?”

Trina began to laugh. “You don’t even want to know.” She said as she turned back to her desk.

Ch. 7

“Where to rock star?” Trina asked Jon.

“My hotel room.” He replied pointedly. Trina spun her head around so fast that Jon thought he would snap off. He began to laugh.

“I gotta change. I left my street clothes at the arena, then can we go out.” Trina was embarrassed began to laugh uncontrollably.

“What?” he asked her.

“You. You’re really not what I thought you were.” She told him.
”And what’s that?” he asked

“Unapproachable. It took 3 people to get to you and now this.” She said.

“Seriously? Why didn’t you just go through Heather?”

Trina shrugged.

“I guess people are just watching out for you.” She smiled.

They reached the hotel. Jon rolled the car into the back entrance. He parked the car in front of the door.

As he turned off the ignition, he turned and looked at her.

“Does it look like I need protecting? “ Jon asked.

“That’s why I’m laughing. You were right. About everything.” Trina said.

“Stand around the Jersey Syndicate for a few days and you’ll get it. For some reason even though the band is called Bon Jovi, I want to know when the band actually became Doc McGhee and the Machine?” Jon said sarcastically.

“Huh?” Trina said looking concerned.

“Forget it.” Jon said. “Let me change. “ he continued.

“Okay. I’ll wait here. “ Trina said.
”Yeah?” Jon said looking surprised.

“Well not everyone wants to sleep with you Jon.” She told him.

Jon laughed.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Who said anything about sleeping with anyone? All I wanted to do was to go and get a drink?” Jon said.

“Your expression said it all.” Trina told him.

“My expression?” Jon asked.

Trina chuckled. “Your expression.” She said.

“All right.” He smiled. “Back in ten minutes.” He told her.

“Okay. “ she nodded. He got up and flew up the hotel steps and through the door.

Trina could not believe this. This was surreal. It was supposed to be an interview about what goes on before and after the show. And now? She was in the middle of a relationship drama with one of the biggest rock stars in the world.

“I can’t believe that I’m about to have a drink with Jon Bon Jovi.” She thought. “Freakin Jon Bon Jovi! Man, do I need Darryl…Right now!” she said aloud.

She never even realized that Jon opened the driver’s seat. He appeared wearing blue jeans, a white t-shirt with some obscure writing on it and a jean jacket. He had sunglasses in his jean jacket pocket.

“Well that was fast.” Trina said.

“God forbid you don’t make deadline. “ Jon said.

“God forbid is right.” Trina said. “I worked my ass off for this opportunity. Not going to have some rock star mess things up.” She quipped.

Jon smiled.

“This rock star will make sure you don’t blow this.” He said as he turned on the ignition.

Moments later, Doc McGhee, Dorothea and the rest of the band had no idea that the red Honda that had just sped passed them was Jon and Trina. Dorothea was still visibly upset as she pleaded her case to the rest of the band.

“Son of a bitch just left. He didn’t even want to talk to me.” She said.

“C’mon Dot. He’s just mad that’s all. Let him blow off some steam.” said Richie.

“With that reporter?” Dorothea said. “Dumbass couldn’t ask a decent question if her life depended on it. “ She sneered.

“What did happened with you and her tonight?” Richie asked.

“Oh Richie, it was nothing. I was only trying to help her. She was talking to him about his songwriting and going off the beaten patch so much that I had suggested going another way with her story.” She told him.

Richie and Dave looked strangely at Dot. “I liked the questions she asked me.” Dave said. “They were different. She seems cool to me.” He continued.

“Dave, no offense, but you’re not a songwriter. You know how these stories go. No ones cares about the keyboardist.” She said pointedly.

Dave’s blue eyes turned red. He was livid.

“Dave, Dave, c’mon. You know what I meant. You are great at what you do. However, we all know whose last name this band holds. Plain and simple. We all love him and would do anything and everything for him. I just can’t believe this is how he repays us all. “ She cried.

Doc nodded his head.

“You know Dot. He’s tired. All of these guys are tired. Maybe he just needs some space. “ Doc told her. “Well rest is a luxury he can’t afford. And by playing Diva is just going to make matters worse. Trust me, I know all of us are tired. Hell, I’m tired too. He better get the stick out of his ass now. There are a lot of bands out there that would kill to be in his shoes if the opportunity came their way. He’s taken too much of this for granted.” She told them as she stomped out of the car and into the hotel.

“Jon should drop that bitch now!” Dave said.
Richie shook his head. “I’m too tired for this shit.” He said as he went up to his room. “I’m going to bed.”

Jon and Trina pulled into a small bar that Jon frequents when he’s in town.

Called “The Bowery”, the bar was on the outskirts of Philly. It was small, unpretentious. Perfect for a young band starting out, but the last place that someone would expect Jon Bon Jovi to be.

“Jonny! Welcome!” yelled the bar owner Mark Denehey.

“How are you Mark? Nice to see you!” Jon said.

Mark patted him on the back. Mark, a former cop, was a tall man with jet-black hair and blue eyes. Formerly, one of Jon’s old bodyguards, he was now a trusted friend. Jon turned to Trina. “Trina, meet Mark Denehey, owner of The Bowery. Mark, Trina Logan of the Philly Post.”

Mark smiled. “Good evening Miss Logan.”

“Nice to meet you.” Trina said extending her hand to Mark. The two shook hands and Jon smiled.

“We missed you tonight.” Jon told Mark.

“We were busy. Pool league. “ Mark said.

“Oh yeah?” Jon asked.

“Yeah. We get easily 60 to 70 people in here on Saturdays. On Sundays minimum is 60. “ Mark replied.

“No shit?” Jon said. He looked surprised. He turned to Trina.
“Hey Trina, do you play pool?” He asked.

“No.” she replied. “Not well at all. Can you play Jon?” she asked

“Yeah?” Jon said.

“He’s pretty good.” Mark said. “Jonny, remember London Bridges?” Jon began to laugh.

“London Bridges?” Trina asked.

“Trina, you don’t want to know.” Jon smirked. “Mark, she doesn’t want to know.”

Mark flashed a huge grin across his face.

“Get me a beer. Please?” Jon said. He was still leering about London Bridges.

“Sure. What would you like Miss Logan?” Mark asked Trina.

“Beer is fine. “ Trina said.

“I’ll be right back.” Mark said. The two sat down in front of the bar as they watched Mark pour two mugs of beer from the tap.

“Okay, what the hell is London Bridges?” Trina asked.

Jon laughed. “Okay it’s a game we made up on the Slippery tour. After a show one night, we all went to a bar that was a lot like this one. We began to play pool. Well, these girls come up and challenged us to a game. Needless to say we lost our asses to them. So we’re like fine, you beat us let’s win our money back and they beat us again. I swear we kept on going back and forth with them all night and we could not beat them. Later on we find out that these girls were pros and that they were hustling us. So Richie came up with an idea for them to lose their shirts. Literally.

We call the game London Bridges. Winning team wins the money, losers well they get lose everything-including the shirts off their backs and then some.”

Trina’s eyes widened. “Who won?”

Jon laughed. “They did.”

Trina let out a huge belly laugh. “London Bridges, falling down!” She squealed.

“They fell down all right.” Jon said taking a long sip of his beer.

“Feel better?” she said.

“Yes, I do. I love this place. I know when I come here I can just be myself and instead of being whisked away in some VIP area.” He said.

“Awww. You don’t like preferential treatment?” she asked.

“No I don’t. VIP sections most of the time are so closed in. I like open spaces. “ He said.

Trina sipped her beer. “You would think you’d want to be by yourselves because your life is so open.” She said.

“Being on tour is not what people think it is. As fun as it is to perform every night, what most people don’t know is that you are alone three quarters of the time. You go to bed late; wake up late; you go to your destination; then to the venue, you eat something, after that you maybe do an interview or two. Then you get ready for the show. After having that freedom for 2 sometimes 3 hours, then it starts over again. “ Jon said.

“With all those people around you who would think about things being so lonely. “ Trina said.

“It is because you can’t exactly trust everyone around you. Everyone wants something.” Jon said.

“Talking about Dot?” Trina asked.

“She’s changed. A total 180. She’d rather have me kill myself night in and out than to actually ask me how I am. “ Jon said.

“You do think she’s just being overprotective?”

Trina asked.

“I thought that before. But now? I think she’s getting used to this lifestyle. Just because she’s my girlfriend doesn’t mean she’s entitled to tell me how I feel and how I should act. “

“Then tell her that Jon.”

“Easier said than done. “ he told her as he took another long sip of his beer.

“Why’s that?” Trina asked

“She’s got the powers that be convinced that I’m the one with the problems. “ Jon said.

With one long swig, he finished his beer and pushed the empty mug to Mark. Mark quickly refilled the mug and pushed it back to him.

“I don’t think she’s gotten to them.” Trina said.
”I do.” Jon said.

“Then tell them.” Said Trina.

“Not that easy.” Jon said.
”Stand in my shoes and watch the Bon Jovi organization at work. You’ll see why. Too many people are dependent on what I do.” He continued.

Trina glanced down at her watch. She had only drunk a quarter of her beer compared to his now 2-½ beers at that time. She needed to write this article and get some rest.

“I’ve gotta get going. My deadline’s up in a couple of hours.” She told him.

“Can I go with you?” Jon asked. “To be honest, I don’t feel like going back to the hotel right now and dealing with Dot. Not yet. “

Trina hesitantly agreed. “Okay. But you’ll be bored. There’s not a hell of a lot that goes on.” She said.
”Better than drama.” Jon said.

“Give me the keys.” She said. Jon handed her the keys. He took out a few dollar bills and handed them to Mark. The two of them left the bar and drove up a few blocks to where the Philly Post was located.

As the two sat in the parking lot, Trina took out her notebook and pen. Jon looked out the passenger window.

“Ready for this?” Trina asked.

Jon looked at her strangely. “Why?” he asked.
”They’re not going to believe what they’re seeing when you walk in.” she replied.

Jon laughed.

“I think they’ll be okay. You didn’t even know who I was earlier. I bet they have no idea it’s me.”

She laughed. “I bet these guys do. All of these guys doing pre-press rock out in the pre-press dept. That freakin’ radio blares so much around here after 8’clock that you’d think they were at one of your shows.”

Jon laughed. “No shit.”

“C’mon.” she said as the two of them went into the Philly Post.

Thanks all!

I wanted to say thank you to all my readers for being so patient. Your e-mails have been wonderful and supportive over the last few months. Very special thanks to Susan, Tricia and Carole for keeping this story alive and well with your e-mails and pm's from various sites.

Now that things are calming down a bit, I should be able to update this blogger and for the record. No, I have not forgotten RSVP!! LOL.... On a regular basis.


Enough of my babbling b.s. now!!!

Chapter 7 is finally up!!!
Enjoy and post your comments here...Okay?