Well I went and did it again. I got involved in yet another interactive fan fiction story. This time, my character was paired with Richie (much more to my liking). That story wrapped in early November 2008, and I had been asked to assemble the "story posts", that is, the posts that tell Richie and Jen's story, in one place for people to read.

So I'm doing it.

I'm having to add some filler as I go, as there were lengthy pauses between the verbose posts I made, but I'm trying to keep the flow of the story going.

The Richie/Jen story is only half of the fan fic project. The other half was a Jon/T story. That is not explored here at all. In fact, very little mention is made. Just enough so it isn't a surprise when T shows up at various points.

If anything is confusing, please let me know. I've been living this character for the better part of the last eight months, and her memories are mine. I forget, sometimes, that you all can't see into my head.

I hope you enjoy the story. It starts here.

~ Hath

Summer Fun

Friday, November 14, 2008
Jennifer could not believe how much fun she was having with Richie. He was flirty and sexy and made her laugh. She forgot, sometimes, just who it was she was talking to. He’d call her every couple days or so, from whatever country they were in, and had her laughing in minutes, listening to tame versions of the stories about what went on at the hotels and at some of the antics of the girls trying to get his or Jon’s attention. She told him stories from the funny farm, as she called it, where the paste-eaters were making every single day a challenge.

They commiserated, laughed, and got to know each other.

Jennifer decided to go to Southampton to the show there. She had an old college roommate in London who was anxious to meet up, and would stay in Southampton with Jen, though she wanted nothing to do with Bon Jovi. She was one of the few women Jen had ever met that looked at them and said, “eh.”

So, Jennifer told her friends on the board she was going. She made reservations at the Grand Harbour hotel, a 5-star establishment. She reserved one of the large suites with a balcony and air conditioning. She’d been to England in the summer before; if you didn’t reserve air conditioning, you didn’t get it. And England could get HOT.

She also had her very favorite concert outfit picked out: a snug black t-shirt that says "Sambora" across the chest in gothic lettering and "I am THE Goddess Hathor. Bow in my presence" proudly on the back, tight black jeans, black CFM boots, which put her up over 6'4", and a black cowboy hat with a silver scarf tied around it.

She had spent some time with Mr. Sharpie and created a sign that said, "Hey Richie, I have your shirt, wanna trade?"

Yes, she thought she was ready to go. She arranged for first class flights, a car and driver for the week, and had her suitcase practically packed. The only thing she didn’t do was tell Richie she was going. What she did do was arrange to meet up with Gail, another of the sisters she met online. She was so excited...except for the cross-Atlantic flight. Planes were Jen’s least favorite way to travel. Well, second only to chairlift. She tried to avoid flying as much as possible, but she couldn’t take time off to travel across on a steamer, so flying it was.

By Memorial Day, Jennifer was sufficiently smitten with Richie to tell her family about him. She waited until the steaks were off the grill and everyone had stuffed their faces.

“So,” Jennifer started. “I have something to tell everyone.” She was met with dead silence, and pained looks from her father and brother. Jennifer laughed. “No, I’m not pregnant.” She laughed harder at their relieved faces. “But, there is someone I want to tell you about.”

John (the son) rolled his eyes. “Jen, ya got anuthah loozah for us to check out?”

“No,” Jennifer answered, shooting daggers at her brother. “He’s not a loser. He’s actually someone you know.”

Her brother rolled his eyes. “Tell me you aren’t dating one of my frat bruthas.”

“No, no, not like that. I guess I should say you know who he is. And I’m not dating him. Haven’t even met him yet. I’ve just been talking to him on the phone.”

Jennifer’s mother rolled her eyes. “Is this the man your friend was setting you up with?”

“Yes, Ma, this is him.”

Her father, also a John, shook his head. “Jen, honey, you really have to stop trusting your friends when it comes to men. They mean well, but they never quite get it right.”

Jennifer laughed. “That’s an understatement if I ever heard one. But Daddy, this time it’s different. This time I know the guy already. Well, I met him once a long time ago.” She hesitated a bit for continuing. “Remember when I went to San Diego back when I turned 21?”

Her mother nodded. “Yes, you had the best time, so you said. And you met the singer – wait a minute. Are you telling me that this ‘friend’ of yours set you up with that musician?”

“What musician?” her brother demanded. A guitarist himself, he knew all too well the reputation musicians had when it came to women. He had stopped his, what he called, slutty ways when he met his wife and fell in love. He didn’t want some skanky axeman taking advantage of his sister.

Jennifer sighed. “You have to promise not to get agitated when tell you.”

“No dice,” John said, his fists flexing on his thighs.

“Fine,” Jennifer said, throwing up her hands. “It’s Richie Sambora.”

“It is not,” her brother insisted.

“It sure is,” Jennifer said, smiling.

“Who the hell do you know that knows Richie Sambora?”

Jennifer blushed. “Well, Jon.”

“Well, John, what?” her brother demanded.

Jennifer laughed. “No. Not you, John, Jon. As in Jon Bon Jovi.”

“How the hell do you know him? And WHEN the hell did you meet him, and why did we not know about this before now?”

Jennifer looked to her parents for assistance. Ma just shook her head. “Sorry, darling girl, but you got yourself into this, and your brother is asking the same questions we’d ask you. You know how the inquisition goes.”

“Alright,” Jen sighed. “Here’s the whole story.” And she proceeded to tell her family about the online Bon Jovi fan board, meeting the girls, meeting Bill, and finding out who he really was. She left out the part about the fan fiction, for she didn’t think her family really needed to know that she wrote porn for fun. She told them an edited version of the phone calls over the last couple of weeks and finished with the upcoming trip to Southampton.

“You aren’t going to England just to meet him, are you?” her brother asked.

“What kind of idiot do you think I am?” Jennifer asked, affronted. “I had these plans and tickets before I met him. Well not actually met him but talked with him. I still haven’t decided if I’m going to meet up with him.”

“Why on earth not?” her mother asked.

Jennifer stood and started to walk around. “He’s been an idol of mine for a long time. A long-time crush, too, truth be told.” She was blushing, but continued anyway. “I’ve enjoyed talking with him on the phone. I’m comfortable with that. I don’t want to screw that up by meeting in person. What if I’m a blithering idiot? What if he is?”

Ma laughed. “I’ve never heard you be so insecure before,” she said. “What’s the harm in meeting? You’re going to be in the same place, and if he’s a jerk, you have a girlfriend there with you, right?” Jennifer nodded. “Was he a jerk when you met him before?” Jen shook her head. “Then it’s settled. Call him and tell him you’ll meet him.”

“Uh, about that,” Jennifer said. “He hasn’t given me his number. He comes up blocked on my cell. He calls me or we trade emails.”

“What’s his problem?” her brother asked. “What, does he not think you’re good enough to give his number to?” He was getting indignant, and Jennifer loved him all the more for it.

“His ‘problem’,” Jennifer said, “is that he’s famous and he doesn’t know me from Eve. I could be a crazy stalker fan or something. Leave it alone.”

John just shook his head at his big sister. “Dating a musician. My sistah. And a guitahist at that! I thought you were smahtah than that.”

Jen stuck her tongue out at her brother. “We aren’t dating. We’re just talking.”

“Yeah, sure, whatevah,” John answered.

“So, when will you talk to him next?” Ma asked.

“Not sure. Either tonight or tomorrow. Depends on how the tour is going.” Jennifer had a huge smile on her face when she talked about Richie.

Ma just shook her head. “Daughter, dear, you’re going to meet him in Southampton. I can see it in your face. Do it. What have you got to lose? At the very least, you get to meet him again, which will make you happy.”

As if on cue, Jen’s phone rang.

“You could just tell him now,” Ma said, laughing.

“This isn’t him,” Jennifer answered. “Not his ringtone. Hey, Gail!”

“Woman, you are not going to believe this!” Gail was shouting into the phone.

“Whoa there, G, what’s got you all excited?”

“I WON!” she shouted, loudly enough for Jennifer’s family to hear her.

“Huh?”

“You silly git, the radio contest I talked to you about? I won!”

“Holy shit!”

“I know! We’re going backstage! God, this changes my entire wardrobe for the concert...” Gail was jabbering on excitedly about the show, the passes, and actually meeting the band.

Jennifer listened for another minute, then hung up. “I guess you’re right,” she said. “That was Gail. We’re going backstage after the show. I suppose I could just surprise him, but that wouldn’t be right.” She let out a breath. “I can always hide in Gail’s room if he turns out to be an asshole. Alright. When I talk to him next, I’ll tell him I’ll be in the country for the show.”

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