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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"I ate it..." A speck of chocolate falls off of the corner of Goldie's mouth and lands on her baggy white Ramones shirt. A signal of the beginning of the end.
The boys shift to the left drastically as Grimmy pulls the bus off the side of the deserted road. Forest surrounds either side of them with the setting sun in the far distance. Stinky Blob and Pig jump down from Grimmy's lap in the driver seat and take cover under the passenger side.
"What the fuck, Grim?" Matt yells, his hair disheveled and flipped to the side as the bus comes to a sudden halt.
"Do you guys really expect me to drive on shrooms?" He replies, putting the bus in park and taking the keys out of the ignition.
All the guys and Goldie sit in silence in the back. It's a waiting game now. They know it'll take some time for the drugs to sit in but the worry of how Goldie's body will react grows in them with every passing second, especially for Harry, who sits next to her. His arm is snug around her waist and her head rests on his chest. The two of them don't care about showing their protectiveness over one another in this instance.
She also grounds him, and any moment now, an anchor would be required to keep his floating soul attached to the earth. Through their physical touch, the worst case scenario will be they fly away together.
"Never thought I'd say this," Harry comments. "But at least Jonesy is somewhat sober. For Jonesy that is."
The crew looks to find Jonesy sitting in the corner of the bus, his mouth stuffed like a chipmunk with chocolatey drugs. "What are you talking about, man?"
Mitch gives himself a facepalm. The concept of Jonesy eating his own prank was to be expected. "Maybe we should get something else in our stomachs," Mitch recommends, looking through the cabinets, which are all bare, then opens the fridge. "We could eat these worms!"
"My leftovers!" Niall snatches the bowl out of Mitch's hands.
As the group of boys bicker over what they think is tupperware filled with nightcrawlers, but is actually old spaghetti noodles, Harry and Goldie exist in open solitude.
They can feel the earth revolving around the hot sun, even in the cold of the night. Harry places his hand on her breast to feel the bass drum that is her heart. He could write a thousand songs to her unique rhythm. Formulate countless melodies with her independent beat carrying each note to the top of the charts. He lightly drums his fingers against her skin, adding a snare to the deep sound beneath the calcium and collagen of her chest.
Goldie runs her thumbs across the tops of his chiseled cheekbones, pushing back the curls of his hair to the sides of his face along the way. The motion is like the reveal of a grand opera. The parting of the dark velvet curtains to showcase a perfectly lit symphony. She could write novels based solely on the mossy green color of his eyes.
