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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Treehouses for children are places where they're free from adult reign. Decorate as you wish. Say what you want. Do as you please. As Goldie and Harry awake from their long night of talking, crying, sharing, this feeling of freedom is spread to them as well.
They're visitors in a foreign territory, with an overwhelming sense of freedom but deep anxiety over the irrevocable loss of their self-governance. It's unstoppable. They must face it once they step down from the ladder and plant their feet on the soft Florida soil.
But they hang on, if only for a few more minutes.
"We should get back." The practical side of Goldie comes out, post lust and passion. She slides her pants back on and slips her arms through the arm holes of her vest. Each movement makes her limbs feel like they weigh as much as a bus. Her body's way of rejecting what's to come.
"I know..." Harry agrees. He looks around and admires the decor of their sanctuary. Classic comics line the exposed wood. Spiderman. Batman. All classics he remembers from his own childhood. Out of the many homes he was passed around, there were two in which he actually felt secure. In those two homes, he hung his favorite drawings. They match the guardian vigilantes surrounding him in present day. The juxtaposition is surreal. A tangible metaphor for his life.
They dress in silence. He goes down the ladder first, defining himself as her safety net. He waits to catch any potential fall.
Her small feet — one anklet-clad — carefully steps down the rickety rungs. The dawn appears behind her. Only inches apart, yet she feels so unreachable to him.
In their tired stupor the night before, both had agreed it was best to stifle their growing appreciation for each other. It was a painful realization but they knew it was necessary, like being a child and getting vaccinated. You dread it but know it's inevitable. A required evil in the eyes of a kid.
"Harry?" Goldie scratches at Harry's chest. She watches the tracks of red marks lay into his skin. Trace evidence of the passion that once belonged to them. Secretly but openly.
"Yeah?" Harry places his hand over her's. He, too, admires the crimson lines striking through the black ink across his flesh. He silently wishes to tattoo the proof of his time with her.
"I know how I feel and you know how you feel but we can't continue this in front of everyone now. It's poison for The Orphans. I'd hate myself if I came between what you guys have. It's disruptive."
"What do you mean?" Harry pushes away slightly, his body's automatic reaction to the conversation at hand.
"I'm not saying the guys are right. But they aren't wrong." Goldie rolls on her back and closes her eyes in disbelief of what she's saying. She's always been a practical girl, almost to a fault. "I have a meeting with my editor tomorrow and I haven't even prepped because we've been here all night. And you have the photoshoot tomorrow too."
