Taking place in the summer of 1978, the story follows 18-year-old aspiring music journalist, nicknamed Goldie, tasked with following up-and-coming UK rock band - The Orphans - while they do their first tour of the U.S. New to life on the road, Goldi...
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Every bump of the bus on the broken road makes the excess of water in Goldie's hungover stomach slosh up into her upper esophagus. They say the best thing to do when you're in this state in a moving vehicle is to look out the window but the sight of the California coast slowly dissipating makes her queasier. The combination of homesickness and the growing miles between her and the ocean make her uneasy. She vows to call Andrew and Jimmy at the next stop to calm the flurry of anxiety taking over her bones and blood.
She rests her head on the soft cotton of her oversized hoodie sleeve and daydreams of memories past. The sound of white noise from a record that's halted playing music. The smell of sizzling bacon in Jimmy's favorite cast iron frying pan. The taste of stolen mint chip ice cream from work, complete with Andrew's famous chocolate-chip cookie crumble on top from the batch that didn't sell the day before. The cool glass of the window pressed up against her face like when she fell asleep on the car ride home from grandma's house with mom and dad. The look of her chipped nail polish, painted before she left on tour to portray a more professional woman.
Licking her lips, a hint of smoke dominates her taste buds. Her fingertips rub against her bottom lip in confusion.
"Did I smoke last night?" she thinks, looking down at her hand, halfway expecting there to be soot or some sort of unknown substance causing the flavor.
"How ya feelin', killer?" Mitch throws a water bottle on Goldie's lap, the sound of the liquid mimicking her insides. "Or maybe I should call you the beer pong champion now?"
Her stare stays fixated on her unsoiled hand.
"You do remember last night, right?" Mitch plops down on the seat next to her. The added motion of him sitting worsens her nausea.
"Of course I do," she promptly lies. The fact she doesn't remember her first time drinking causes her an immense amount of discomfort. Skin crawling, she struggles to piece together the few faint memories she has of the night before, like two separate beings trying to knit a single scarf.
"I've set up a few auditions. They're promising, so don't ruin it for the rest of us, H." Grimmy says to Harry. Both of them stand in the middle of the bus, effortlessly defying the ebb and the flow of the bumpy street like they were born on a bus.
Harry, arms crossed and bruiting, absorbs the criticism from his manager. As Grimmy continues his lecture and going over the itinerary, Harry's eyes slowly scan the bus over to Goldie. Able to feel his gaze, she diverts her attention from Mitch's kind face to Harry's devilish smirk, his expression quickly softening as soon as her eyes meet his. He nods his head in the direction of his bunk and saunters towards her, the sway of the tour bus unphasing him. Goldie gives a nervous nod in response, unsure of his request.
"Or just walk away," Grimmy comments and rolls his eyes before sitting down to continue detailing the next steps of their trip on his clipboard.
"You ready? We can do it back here." Harry's hands rest on the chairs, the left hand on Mitch's chair and the right on the one in front, caging her in. A showcase of dominance. Her throat visibly swallows a nervous mouthful of saliva. She's still unaware of what he's referring to. She blindly follows him to the back of the bus regardless.
