Turn My Page | Led Zeppelin

Good Times Bad Times

 Vicky's heart pounded as Jimmy eyed her from the doorway. The security guard stepped out of the way and Jimmy grinned.

  "Come in, we're just resting for a bit," Jimmy suggested rather than ordered. Vicky gave a nervous laugh and walked in. Inside was bigger than Vicky had anticipated.

  There were six doors on the far wall that she assumed were dressing rooms, and to her right was a long counter with a wall-length, horizontal mirror. To her left  was a couch, table, three chairs, and two potted plants.

  On the couch lounged Robert in his unbuttoned shirt and skin-tight pants, his hand resting comfortably on his stomach and his other one clutching a water bottle. Next to him sat John Paul, gulping down water. Bonzo was no where to be seen.

  Jimmy closed the door and sat in a chair, lifting his feet to rest them on the low table. He opened his water slowly, all the while watching Vicky.

  "Sit," Jimmy instructed nicely, tipping his water toward one of the open chairs. Vicky sat down nervously, not knowing why she was back here. "I saw you in the crowd," Jimmy began, not taking his eyes off Vicky, but drowning her in his cute British accent, "and I thought, 'I have to have her come back stage to meet the boys and I'. What's your name?"

  "Victoria... or Vicky," she replied, surprising herself with her own confidence.

  "Vicky. What a fiery name for a beautiful girl," Jimmy smiled. Vicky could have sworn he was flirting with her... and that  "come hither" gleam in his eyes was a real turn on... but she was crazy to think that the Jimmy Page would think so fondly of her.

  "Well, Vicky, I'm Jimmy, this is Robert, and that is John. The other John is in the John right now." Robert folded his arms across his chest and chuckled. John Paul gave a toothy grin.

  "I know who you are," Vicky muttered, looking down at her feet.

  "Well, I'd hope so," Jimmy responded, his voice amused, "but some of our fans don't even know who we are-- just listen to our music is all. But I'm glad I've finally found a fan who knows us as well as our music. Say, whose your favourite? I see you're wearing me on your blouse."

  Robert and John Paul's eyes focused on Vicky, ready to hear their names. But they seemed crest-fallen when Vicky replied, "Oh, well, it would seem a bit rude, wouldn't it, if I said that I preferred anyone of you over another right to your face?"

  "I like that answer," Jimmy mused. There was a small pause, then Robert spoke.

  "So, Vicky, what do you like to do?" he asked, taking a gulp of water.

  "Well, I like listening to music, and I even play," Vicky started. She was about to list off other things she liked to do before Robert interrupted her.

  "You make music?" Robert asked. "What instruments do you play?"

  "Guitar... both electric and acoustic," Vicky replied, trying had not to let her pride show through. Jimmy took his feet off the table and leaned forward.

  "Really?" he breathed. "Are you into the arts, as well? Do you like to paint?"

  "I guess so..." Vicky's next sentence was a bit drowned out by Jimmy and Robert saying something. "I'm more into photography, though. Why do you ask?"

  But no one ever replied. Instead, out of one of the six doors (one labeled "Rest Room") walked John in his briefs. No one else seemed to notice, and John didn't seem to notice that Vicky was there. She began to chuckled, covering her mouth but not looking away.

  It was very humorous to her to watch one of her idols shift through the clothes rack mindlessly in his underwear without noticing that she was there.