psychedeliagroove - Tumblr blog

psychedeliagroove · 2 years

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that's the way (the boy next door)

pairing: jimmy x reader

words: 4k

warnings: angst, parental death, longing, heartbreak

summary: ten years as friends with your neighbor jimmy creates dozens upon dozens of memories. most of which are good, but the bad things can't help but slip through the cracks. navigating through life with him by your side and trying to live as two innocent teenagers isn't as easy as it seems.

author's note: so uhhh, I've been thinking of this since I first heard that's the way over a year ago when I first joined the zep fandom. I quite literally saw the pictures in my head and immediately knew I had to write it, but didn't know just how to articulate it. this summer I finally had a vague image in my mind of how I wanted this all to play out and started writing right away. it was touch and go for a while, but now it's finished and I really hope you all enjoy it <3

I don't know how I'm gonna tell you

I can't play with you no more

I don't know how I'm gonna do what mama told me

My friend, the boy next door

“And you tell that Page boy I don’t want to see him out here playing with you again! You don’t want me to go and have a talk with his mother now do you?”

“No, Mama,” you replied, head hung low after the scolding you’d just received. At seven years old, you weren’t sure why your mother hadn’t wanted you playing with any of the boys on your street. You grew up on a desolate road in the far end of Epsom where hardly any children your age lived except Jimmy and some other boys who were a year or two older than you. But they didn’t want to play with you…you had “cooties.”

The next morning as you head out to the park, there was no way to avoid the Page’s house—it was immediately next to yours—and Jimmy came running out behind you, calling your name as you started at a quicker pace, only making him run behind you faster. It was impossible once he’d actually caught up to you, almost grabbing you by the shoulder in an attempt to get you to stop.

“What’s wrong? Why didn’t you wait for me?” Jimmy asked, pain clear in his bright, innocent voice as he caught his breath, “was it because I accidentally pushed you yesterday? You said it was okay…”

Your head hung low just as it had the previous evening upon your scolding. You couldn’t look him in the eyes and devastate him even further, “My mum said—my mum said we can’t be friends anymore.”

“Why?” was his first inquiry above anything else, confusion riddling his young, cherubic features.

“I told you, my mum said she didn’t want me hanging around with you. Sh—she didn’t give a reason why, but I just listen to what she says,” you answered, barely able to look Jimmy in his shining, emerald eyes that were now shrouded in disappointment. In his silence, it prompted you to chance a glance at him. His lips pursed together, his eyes were downcast to the concrete sidewalk. He took a shallow breath before walking back in the direction of his house. A single tear slipped from your eye. You kept on your way to the park.

I can't believe what people saying

You're gonna let your hair hang down

I'm satisfied to sit here working all day long

You're in the darker side of town

You bounced down the stairs on your way to the kitchen, about to ask your mum if you could go out with some friends later that weekend. Now at thirteen, you were spending more time out of the house and more time out with friends. It was freeing to say the least. You caught your mother on the phone before you came into the kitchen, hearing her ranting and raving about God-knows-what.

“Did you see how long his hair is? Much too long for a proper boy his age! And did you hear about how he exploded that old shack on the school grounds?!….I’ve already spoken with his mother, Sharon, she doesn’t seem to care. Says James is gonna make it into the big leagues. Not like that he won’t,” she carried on. You decided at this point to walk into the kitchen and try to catch her attention, “And what is with that guitar he’s always lugging around? He’s not right—hold on Shar, Y/N wants to tell me something. What is it, darling?”

“Oh,” you piped up, “Ella wants to go out this Saturday. She said her dad could take us to a—a skiffle show in London. Can I go?”

“Just you and Ella?” your mother inquired, impatiently holding the phone down to her shoulder.

“Me, Ella, and Holly. That’s all.”

Your mother looked at you for a few seconds, letting you stew in your anxiety for a bit. “That’s fine. I want you back home before midnight, though.”

“Of course, thank you!” you exclaimed as you rushed back to your bedroom, carrying on with your homework.

On Saturday, you were dressed in your very best. Your button-down white blouse and favorite skirt were your ensemble for the day. As you exited through your front door after your thousands of goodbyes to your mother, you peered into the next front yard only to see Jimmy headed in the same direction as you were for the car.

Your eyebrows came together in confusion. Looking into the car, you saw John Preston, a good friend of Jimmy's, sitting beside Holly in the large backseat of the vehicle.

"Hi, Y/N,” Jimmy greeted sweetly, "you're going to the skiffle show, too?"

You stared blankly at him, stuttering in response, “Ye-Yes. I didn't know you were coming with us."

"Oh, John told me Ella was offering to take people and I was planning on going anyway so I took his offer and...here I am,” he said simply with a shrug. "Is...that a problem? I know your mum has some sort of an issue with me. I don't quite understand it."

"I just ignore what she says at this point, really,” you said, unsure of where to look or what to do. “Your hair looks nice like that."

You two sat squished in the car the whole way to London. As John talked up Holly, and Ella rode with her father up front, there was little conversation between you and the rest of the teenagers all squeezed into the backseat. The conversation between you and Jimmy was even more so confined, though you'd been sitting right next to each other. Occasionally a glance would be exchanged and a quiet giggle; him touching your fingers as you anxiously played with them in your lap and you nudging his shoulder gently when he did so.

"You play guitar right?" you asked, you voice just above a whisper. Like the question was reserved wholly for him.

"Yes," he nodded, his eyes boring into yours, "I could..." he gulped, "teach you sometime if you'd like..."

"I don't think my mother would approve."

"I thought you ignored what she had to say,” Jimmy remarked with a sly smile creeping up the edge of his lips.

You couldn't help but chuckle. “About trivial matters, yes. But going to your house to learn guitar...she'd get suspicious,” you shook your head.

"Well, I could show you after school. Haven't got anything better to do anyway. You could say you're studying with Ella or something."

Your eyes timidly met his, looking away after only a few seconds. The shade of green they donned something you wouldn't forget so soon. "Perhaps. I'll let you know on Monday."

"Okay," he smiled. Looking down at your hands, your heart leapt out of your chest at the sight of your fingers intertwined together.

You stood side by side through the entirety of the skiffle show, Jimmy's hand brushing yours every few songs. You'd lost your friends somewhere in the shuffle, but you were sure they weren't enjoying the show nearly as much as you and Jimmy were.

After the show had wound down, you and Jimmy strolled over to the agreed upon meeting area. You stood awkwardly as thirteen year-olds often did, balancing this way and that on the heels of your feet as you twiddled your fingers, stretching your neck to see if your friends were anywhere close. Jimmy stood with his head down. You didn’t know that his cheeks were too flushed for him to even look at you.

“That was fun,” you remarked once you were sure your head would pop off if you kept craning your neck.

Jimmy’s head snapped up. “Mhm!” he agreed, soon looking down to hide his face. You raised an eyebrow at the sight.

"You alright?" you asked, looking at him quizzically.

Jimmy paused for along while, timidly looking up at you, “I really ….” he mumbled out the last part of his statement. You could barely understand a word he said.

"What's that?"

"Ireallylikeyou,” he rushed out in a small, quiet voice.

Your eyes widened once you registered his confession, "Oh,” you said softly. What do I even answer with? you couldn't help but think to yourself. "I like you, too Jimmy." Though you didn’t mean in the same way he did.

He shot up to look at you again, bewilderment riddling his expression. It was then that you saw his cherubic cheeks flushed bright red even in the darkness of your surroundings. "You do?!"

"Uhm, well, yes, Jimmy. But—but as friends,” you said, unsure of yourself. "I'm sorry."

You could see his poor heart shatter right before you. "Oh,” he replied, dejected.

Your friends could be heard laughing and talking loudly just a few feet away. As they approached, Jimmy took a few steps away from you and ran his hands over his face, pretending as if nothing had happened.

"Jimmy—" you started, not even sure of what you wanted to tell him.

"No, it's fine. I get it,” he waved you off, stepping even further away, not daring to look at you.

And when I'm out I see you walking

Why don't your eyes see me?

Could it be you've found another game to play,

What did mama say to me?

You walked to school the next Monday. Passing Jimmy's house as you always did, he walked out as your eyes glanced over at his front door. You nearly jumped in an excitable fear at the sight of him, though he looked more than miserable to see you.

Knowing your mother would be watching you until you reached the end of your block, you wouldn't dare turn to say hello to him.

But he seemed to completely ignore you once your collective gazes met. It hurt to say the least. Telling Jimmy you only liked him as a friend seemed to be the worst mistake you could have made. Instead, at seeing some of the other schoolboys on your block, Jimmy ran to them, completely bypassing you as he crossed the road and struck up a conversation. God, how it angered you.

And yesterday I saw you standing by the river

And weren't those tears that filled your eyes

And all the fish that lay in dirty water dying

Had they got you hypnotized?

Somewhere down the line you seemed to patch things up with Jimmy. You were sixteen now. Three years passed since his confession to you and it seemed his feelings didn't change between then and now.

You'd see him catching glimpses of you during class, and in the hallway, and at lunch. It made your cheeks flush whenever you caught him. You knew he didn’t have some schoolboy crush on you at this rate. Having gotten much closer recently, you decided to let him feel his feelings as he pleased. Perhaps you’d even felt a twinge of a feeling back for him. He was the cutest boy in school, after all. You couldn’t deny that.

However, boys weren’t your sole focus anymore. It was helping to provide for your family. With your mother having passed away the previous year, you were stuck trying to find ways to help your father pay the bills. All at the hands of a drunk driver lost late at night that struck your mother as she was taking out the garbage. It was a horrible time for you, not to mention your father.

Jimmy's mother had been a great help to you: offering to make you dinner, helping to do house chores whenever she could, offering a shoulder to cry on, and so much more. You thought it oddly generous seeing as how much your mother was a bother to Mrs. Page. You speculated Jimmy may have had a hand in her generosity. After that you'd started spending more time next door. You and Jimmy did homework together and his mother would offer to let you stay for a meal before going home to your father. He was gone during the day anyway so you really had nowhere else to go. It was an awkward time for everyone in the months following.

Eventually, though, you got back on your feet. You got a job at a local diner and were making good money to keep yourself afloat even if it wasn't by that much. You’d definitely learned to be more frugal; a skill your mother had always wanted you to pick up before you were too old.

It had been almost a year after her passing that you’d picked up on Jimmy’s endless stares again. On one certain day, it seemed he was finally confident enough in trying his chances with you again. You two were sat at his kitchen table practicing your cursive handwriting when he spoke up.

"Did you want to go down to the river with me tomorrow?"

"Why's that?" you asked as you completed the tail on a lowercase “a”, getting started on the next one.

"Uh, no—no reason. Thought maybe we could get out of the house for a little while."

You contemplated it for a second before answering. "Sure, I don't mind. I just have to be back in time for work. Can I meet you there?"

Jimmy nodded vehemently with a smile. “Yeah, that's great."

You were the first to arrive at the arranged meeting spot by the river the next afternoon. You stood leaning on a tree, watching as the river flowed soothingly past you, the sounds of the rippling water calming you greatly, almost in a hypnotizing way. You saw the fish rushing their way through the stream. Inevitably you wondered where they'd end up. Either way you morbidly realized they'd all be dead one day. Or in someone's home being served as a meal.

A sense of panic washed over you and tears rushed to your eyes. Figuring Jimmy wouldn't show up for a while, you let hot tears stream down your cheeks; death being an inevitable reminder of your mother. You didn't cry much over her anymore, but few things still managed to set you off.

"Hey," a voice said gently, touching their hand to your shoulder. Jimmy. "What's wrong?"

"Oh my," you said, quickly rushing your hands to your face, wiping away the tears haphazardly as you chuckled at Jimmy, obviously embarrassed. "Sorry."

“Don’t apologize. Are you alright?" he asked, rubbing his thumb into your arm before drawing you in for a hug. His immediate attention brought you comfort, though you were embarrassed to admit that a few fish brought you to tears.

"Just fine, Jimmy. Don't worry about me, I promise."

He let go, but kept his hands on your biceps. "Did something happen?"

"No,” you insisted, "just the…bloody fish."

Jimmy raised an eyebrow, but decided to let it go after that, letting go of your arms and letting his own fall to his sides again.

"What did you want to do here?" you asked as you started walking along the river, going opposite the current. A look of confusion flashed on his face before he remembered that he'd invited you to meet with him.

"Uh, well. I just wanted to talk with you."

"About what?"

He stammered, looking around anxiously as if trying to find the words he was trying to say. “I have this friend,” he said, nodding to himself as if he were trying to convince himself that this was the correct information. "He—He really likes you."

You caught the lie immediately. Not being able to hold back the light chuckle leaving you, you nodded. “Oh, okay. Who is it?”

It was as if he was being tested again, he cleared his throat, “Johnny!….Johnny Tree…ston.”

“Johnny Treeston? Okay,” you said, more than amused with his antics.

“Yes, well. Don’t tell him I told you. He’d be very embarrassed. Anyway. He was asking me what would be the best…uhm—course of action in trying to ask you on a date.”

“Well, why can’t Johnny Treeston just tell me how he feels?” you replied, staring deep and knowingly into Jimmy’s bright green eyes.

“Y/N, you see, he can’t just tell you like that. He doesn’t want to seem like a simpleton.”

“Ha!” you guffawed, “a simpleton.” You laughed, “Johnny could never be a simpleton. I know how intelligent he is,” you stopped, taking Jimmy’s wrist with one hand, “and sweet. And genuine…”

“I didn’t know you knew Johnny like that.” Jimmy said, playing off the fact that you had just called his bluff.

“Well…I don’t know Johnny like that. Johnny isn’t real. But you are. And I know you like that, Jimmy.”

His cheeks flushed. Perhaps even redder than they did back when you were kids. “You do?” he asked, almost terrified that he’d even brought the conversation up to this poignant point.

“Of course I do. I always speculated why your mother was so kind to me after my mum passed.”

“Surely she was just trying to be homely.”

“Surely,” you agreed. After a beat you continued, “God Jimmy, it’s like you made me like you by doing nothing at all,” you said, chuckling to yourself. Jimmy’s brows furrowed. He opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to the punch. “I like you, Jimmy. A lot.”

He stared at you in shock for a good five seconds before he spoke. This pause felt like it lasted a lifetime. “That’s supposed to be my line,” he said finally, a cheeky smile tugging at the edge of his lips.

You couldn’t help but pull Jimmy into a hug. He quickly pulled back, still holding you close, "You don't mean like a friend, right?"

"No!" you laughed, "of course not. But just in case you were still on the fence..." you trailed off, pressing your lips against his gently, the feeling being much softer than you could have ever imagined. Jimmy kissed you back. You could feel his longing in the kiss as he cradled your cheeks in his palms. Pulling back, you spoke again, "I hope that settles it, then."

He grinned at you, pulling you in for another kiss before you continued on through the park. “So would you like to go out with me sometime?” He asked.

“I would love to, Jimmy,” you replied, an impermeable smile spreading across your face.

And yesterday I saw you kissing tiny flowers

But all that lives is born to die

And so I say that nothing really matters

And all you do is stand and cry

He said to meet at your spot by the river again. It was the day of your eighteenth birthday. Again you waited for him as the sun just began to set. The early summer breeze tussled the flowers sprawled across the field. You picked one from the dirt with a quick, sharp tug, inhaling its scent. A mayflower. Aptly named. It brought nothing but good memories from your childhood.

A pair of arms wrapped around your waist, and a face pressed its lips into the back of your shoulder repeatedly. You turned your head to face the affectionate person, your hand resting just above theirs; your fingers intertwining together as if by habit.

"Hello, lover,” he said softly, kissing your neck.

"Lover. I like that name,” you giggled, turning to face him, cupping his cheeks in your palms and pressing your lips to his for a quick moment.

"Happy birthday,” he said, bringing his finger to your chin and tilting your lips back up to his, bringing you both together once again.

"Here,” you said, showing him the mayflower you'd just plucked, kissing one of the small petals before delicately placing it behind his ear much to your delight. "Promise you'll keep it?"

"Only till it dies,” he remarked. His comment struck a chord within you. You weren't sure what it was, but you ignored it and carried on. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you,” you nodded to him. “So where are we off to?"

Jimmy had mentioned he had a special evening planned for the two of you, but failed to indulge on what exactly it was he wanted to do. It seemed, though, the first order of business was to get on the bus headed for London. You were about to embark on a journey.

"When we get to London, then maybe I'll reveal some more of what we'll do,” he said mischievously, plucking the flower resting on his ear and putting it just hanging outside of his breast pocket. "Also I needed to talk to you about some things."

You took his hand in yours, turning your attention away from the window and back to him, listening intently.

"I'm going to art school,” he announced. You shrugged at him, not knowing the severity of the issue. "I'll be moving out of my parents' house. They have a flat lined up for me there. I'm leaving next week."

All you could do was stare at him. Your expression was blank, but on the inside, your body was slowly flooding. Filling up like a sinking ship with no way out. "You're moving?" you said it more as a statement than a question, but the way you felt was more than clear. "I'll come with you,” you said suddenly, almost jumping at the realization. You couldn't bear to part with him, not so soon.

Jimmy shook his head solemnly. “What about your father? You can't leave him on his own."

He was right. With his constant working, you were the one who had to keep the house tidy and cook. Someone had to take over your mother's duties, but you insisted. “He can live without me. I can find a job in London. I can make you happy,” you tried, tears starting to prick at your eyes.

"You already make me happy, darling. And it doesn't matter, I don't want you to feel like you have to uproot your life for me. Even then with all of the session work and schooling I'll barely be home. It just wouldn't be feasible for you,” Jimmy replied, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

You gave up fighting then. Letting the tears stroll down your cheeks as they pleased and you didn't speak another word to him for the rest of the bus ride. With your hands in your lap, you admired the scenery before you. Jimmy stayed uncomfortably silent the rest of the way. It was clear to see that this conversation had put a damper on your birthday celebrations.

That was the way the boy next door broke your heart into a million pieces.

After moving to London, you didn’t see Jimmy for several years. Now established with a career of his own, hair down past his shoulders, and more women around him than he could ever know what to do with, it seemed he'd forgotten you. And you tried your hardest to forget him.

You'd heard his name many times on the radio in conjunction with the new supergroup he'd formed that was sweeping the nation. You were proud of him; proud that he'd finally achieved his dreams, though it saddened you to hear his name and realize you weren't a part of his life anymore. However, there was nothing you could do about it now.

That was the way it was going to stay.

---

masterlist!!!

Taglist: @diaryofafan17 @tophats-n-lespauls @witchesdust @jonesyjonesyjonesy @paginate54 @hejustsatisfiess @salixfragilis @calico-skiess @reincarnated70sbaby @rebel-without-a-zeppelin @kyunisixx if you want to be added to the list lmk!

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psychedeliagroove · 2 years

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Back from their tour of Australasia Zeppelin have once again slipped into their happy knack of almost complete silence. They are probably the first major group to maintain their privacy so successfully and completely. To recap on their amazingly successful career as a group, Monica Foot talked to Jimmy Page - the most reticent member of the group. She began at the beginning. That first record was made exactly three months after Jimmy Page had got it together and formed the world’s most spectacular instant supergroup. He thought it was just timing: “We arrived on the scene at just the right time. Cream had disbanded. Hendrix was into other things and Atlantic were looking for a new group to boost. We were it”.

No television

There’s a bit more to it than just lucky timing-hard, hard work. Page himself practises at least three hours each day. The band spend nearly a year on the road to begin with. In one year (1969) their air fares alone came to 24,000 pounds. By 1970, it was reckoned by the cognoscenti that they were earning more money from performing live than any other group in history. Take into account that they have never done a British television gig; nor have they ever released a single. Phenomenon is right: an incredible stage act and stage presence plus an equally good live effect on album. “I’m 27; John Paul Jones is the same age. Robert and John Bonham are both 23. I joined The Yardbirds in 1966 straight from session work. I’d been at Art School and done G.C.E.s in Sutton and Croydon. I lived in a van for a whileand got quite ill from that. “The good thing about the guitar was that they didn’t teach it in school. Teaching myself was the first and most important part of my education. I hope they keep it out of the schools. “I knew Jeff Beck and I enjoyed music. I couldn’t read music, I taught that myself too. I can write it down at my own pace. “The Yardbirds eventually folded. We had one hit: “Over Under Sideways Down” in 1966 and we did the film Blow Up with Antonioni. “I wanted a band, John Paul Jones phoned up to ask if I’d be interested in using him. I jumped at the chance. Musically he’s the best musician of us all. He had a proper training and he has quite brilliant ideas. I heard Robert and Bonham and there was just no question about it. Musically, it jelled immediately. “It’s very hard getting groups together, and the characters become very important particularly on the road. But we seem to get on better and better. Perhaps we’re just lucky. “We like to take out music off into different tangenes. We always have done that. Even now with “Dazed and Confused”, say. When we first did it in the studio we did it live, setting aside one section of the bow and so forth. We released the second take.“ I asked him about the record sleeves of Zeppelin LPs - always distinctive. “Number Three” didn’t come out quite right. It was intended to be like those gardening calendars or the zoo wheel things that tell you when to plant cauliflowers or how long whale’s are pregnant. But there was a misunderstanding with the artist - who is in fact very good, but hadn’t been properly briefed - and we ended up with a deadline and a teeny-boppish thing with I think is a bit of a compromise.“ “Album Two was insane. We’d put down a rhythm track in London, added the voice in New York, put in harmonica in Vancouver, then come back to New York to do the mixing.”

Tarot Cards

“Now, on the last record, the sleeve has a lot of meaning. The old man carrying the wood is in harmony with nature. He takes from nature and he gives back to the land. It’s a natural cycle - it’s right. "His old cottage gets pulled down and they put him in these urban slums; old slums; terrible places. The Hermit is painted by a friend of mine - Barrington Colby - he’s holding out the light of truth and enlightment to young man at the foot of the hill. No, those aren’t Robert’s goats. Do you know the Tarot cards? Then you know what the Hermit means. "My house used to belong to Alasteir Crowley. I knew that when I moved in. Magic is very important, if people can go through it. I think Crowley’s completely relevant today. We’re still seeking for truth; the search goes on. "Crowley didn’t have a very high opinion of women and I don’t think he was wrong. Playing music is a very high sexual act. It’s an emotional release and the sexual drive comes in along with all the other impulses. But once you start earning money people start assuming things about you and your whole life is changed. Your friends change; you get involved in high finance. You can’t try and programme it. It just happens.”

Loch Ness

“At least as musicians we aren’t doing any environmental or moral damage. In fact the musicians can ask some of the ugly questions that politicians don’t want to answer. We’re not trying to indoctrinate anybody. Why shoud people automatically asume that they have to fall in this man-made cycle: go to work and manufacturate stuff so that you can get a bit of money to buy manufacturated goods. "It’s only rebels who ever get anything done. Most people in high office are complete idiots. Take Loch Ness. The Hydro Board wanted to put pylons along the edge of the loch to save 55,000 pounds in a scheme that has been costed at 12 million paounds. We have to make sure that natural amenities like Loch Ness are respected. they are irreplaceable. "I’m interested in the Loch Ness Phenomena Investigation Bureau. I have a place up there. I love it. It’s really beautiful. How can this faceless men wreck it for a piffling amount of money. The whole desition rests with one man and that’s really wrong. "If I wasn’t into rock I would be living in somewhere like Wales in a commune.” We left it at that. We shook hands in the street. Jimmy Page went to check out the latest records in a little corner shop - the modest, quiet superstar.

***** This interview was done by Monica Foot and published on April 22nd, 1972 in Disc and Music Echo.

From The Eye of Zoro, not longer on the web.

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psychedeliagroove · 3 years

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“Let’s all wear blue and not tell the bassist”

japan, 1971

#poor John Paul jones #we do not support John Paul jones slander here #Led Zeppelin

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psychedeliagroove · 3 years

Text

Guitar Lessons With Jimmy Page Part 3

It’s been a fat minute… But if you’re reading this after part 1 and 2, thank you. And if you’re new here please go and read part 1 and 2 and then come back here and (hopefully) enjoy part 3.

I love writing these, and I hope you love reading it as much as I loved creating it.

“Shit” I murmured to myself after I messed up my eyeliner for what felt like the hundredth time.

I never was one to spend too much time on my appearance even when my mother used to constantly badger me about how “a lady should always look put together”. I never did find myself listening to her advice, until now.

Finally my hand decided to stay steady as I drew the last wing, completing my eye makeup.

As I reached over to grab the Yardley lip stick sitting patiently on my vanity table I remembered the half-kiss I shared with Jimmy the other day.

The sweet, innocent, and sadly interrupted kiss.

The more I thought about it the more I wondered how far that seemingly innocent almost-kiss would have gone if not for Robert barging through the door and yelling at the top of his lungs.

I let out a giggle as I remembered the almost comical scene from last week.

I was pulled out from my thoughts in a second as my eyes made their way to the clock hanging on my wall. I gasped and hurriedly applied the coral pink lipstick that was in my hand.

Realising I had around 25 minutes to call a taxi and make my way to the gig, I leaped across my bed for the telephone which sat on my bedside table.

A telephone girl with a shrill voice answered the phone. “Hello, where from and where to will you be travelling this evening?” She said in a professional manner.

“From 87 Dover’s Green road to uh…” I grabbed the piece of paper that sat next to the telephone and squinted at the address that I had written down on to it during a phone call I received from Robert the other day.

“…To Ewell college, please!” I replied after making out the words from my messily rushed handwriting.

“Alright dear, your taxi will be arriving shortly, thank you for calling!”

And with that I could hear the click on the other end of the line that signalled the telephone girl had hung up.

I tapped my foot on the soft rug beneath me, already impatient.

“What did she mean by shortly? How shortly is shortly?” I wondered to myself, scared I might miss even a second of the gig.

However I was not let down by the taxi service when I saw the vehicle pull up to the sidewalk outside my window within the span of 7 minutes from the time of the initial phone call.

I grabbed my bag and struggled into my boots before racing out the door, on to the street, and into the taxi.

I stared out the window as the car passed Woodhatch park, then the local diner and then we were on the motorway. I felt my nerves grow the closer the taxi got to Ewell college.

Then they almost went out of control when the taxi driver turned to me and told me in his tired voice “this is your stop ma’am”.

I thanked and payed the man then I hopped out the car.

My heels clicked against the cold hard pavement that lead to the entrance of the college.

With the entrance of the college in view I only realised just how many people were entering, initially I thought that a good chunk of them could just be students but when I heard murmurs of the two names that were familiar to me I realised just how popular Jimmy and Roberts little band was.

With the crowd of college students and teenagers just like me, I made my way into the college, letting the bustling crowd that shifted around me guide me to the location of the gig.

Once inside I was met with a cramped looking stage that had a drum kit and a microphone stand set up atop its hard wooden flooring.

As I looked at the ever growing number of girls and boys in the auditorium, I realised just how many people came to watch the band, far more than I had anticipated.

At this point I couldn’t move an inch within the large crowd, but with strong determination and countless shoulder-shoves followed by apologies, I made my way to the front of the crowd with an up-close view of the small stage in front of me.

To pass the short amount of time before the band came on, some groups in the audience conversed with each other. Another small chunk of the audience gathered around in a corner.

At first I wondered why this group of long haired gals and guys were all huddled around.

That was until I saw the light from a small orange flame protruding from a lighter.

From there it don’t leave much to the imagination.

I leaned against the front of the stage, resting my arms atop the wooden flooring. It didn’t take long for a man that seemed to be the MC to walk onto the stage.

“Good evening everybody!” The man enthusiastically boomed out, his voice filling the rowdy and crowded room.

“It is my great honour to announce tonight’s performance, here in Ewell College, will you all please welcome to the stage, The New Yardbirds!”

Instead of the anticipated applause the crowd mostly went quiet, I looked around the crowd to see what the big deal was and heard murmurs of confusion around me.

“New yardbirds?” A man with a questioning look on his face behind me whispered to his friend to which returned the same confused expression.

“Hang on…. Err, my apologies.” The MC said apologetically as his eyes averted from the audience and to the queue card in his hand.

“Will you please welcome, Led Zeppelin” The man said which, this time round was met with the applause he was looking for.

After the crowds reaction the MC seemed satisfied and with that he walked off stage, and in his replacement three tall, long haired, and rather fashionable men made their way onto the stage.

The three were met with an applause that displayed the crowds excitement.

I spotted Robert instantly just by his golden lion-like mane of hair that tussled around with every movement he made.

Then my eyes met with a man adorning brunette hair that was fairly long but not as long as Roberts’s.

And lastly a man with hair of similar length except a lighter shade walked across the stage.

I looked around the stage for Jimmy, but to no avail.

I stared at the right side of the stage where the three members had walked out of in hopes Jimmy would come out.

And to my delight he did, protruding from the darkness came a tall pencil thin figure adorning a slightly oversized cream button up of crepe fabric and a lengthy satin scarf tied around his neck.

Once the crowd noticed his arrival, they welcomed him on just like they had done for the other three, in a loud and exciting manner.

Among the noises the crowd made for Jimmy, I could hear his name being cheered from all around the audience. I didn’t realise just how big of a name he’d made for himself in the area, he was treated just like any rockstar at a concert.

Sure David had went on and on about his talent, but witnessing the crowds reaction makes him seem more like a celebrity than a local talent.

I watched him as he made adjustments to the strap of his telecaster.

The bright stage lights illuminated his jet black curls and his ivory skin which made it seem almost iridescent.

He looked godly. There was no other description for it.

By now the other members had made their way to their respective spots on stage.

The dark brunette haired man was on the drums, which I thought was quite fitting as he seemed to be the tough type, the light brunette haired man stood on the left side of the stage tuning his bass, and lastly Robert, front and centre, wrapped his hand around the metal microphone stand making adjustments to it to cater to his towering height.

That was as figured. A man as exuberant as Robert just had to be the frontman I thought.

And especially with that loud booming voice I became acquainted with when I had first met him.

The crowd and I waited in anticipation for the four to begin their set, I didn’t know what to expect as a first timer but I knew they had to be good since they had the locally famous guitarist, Jimmy in the band.

Suddenly an explosion erupted from the speakers, except it wasn’t an explosion of noise but an explosion of strategically composed and intricate sounds that were nothing short of electrifying.

The sounds that came from the speakers were from Jimmy and the bassist. Both sounds from their instruments intertwined into one which lead to the crowds eruption of cheers and screams.

Suddenly Roberts vocals came in, just as powerful and loud as the instruments.

Then before I got a chance to breathe it all in, the drums boomed throughout the auditorium. I could feel the vibrations within my own body and I’m sure everyone in the audience could as well.

The four managed to be just as powerful as each other, not anymore and not any less. It was an insane sight to witness.

The set carried on, impressing me song after song and never failing to keep every single individual in the crowd screaming and moving around.

I couldn’t help myself but stare at Jimmy through most of the songs, his face, focused and expressive with every note and chord and yet just as I had imagined it was peaceful. Despite the songs being heavy and upbeat, he had that peaceful expression across his face that I noticed during my previous guitar lesson with him.

I smiled as I reminisced on this.

Then my smile was returned.

While in my thoughts, Jimmy had noticed me in the crowd, gazing at him with wide eyes and with a smile strewn across my face.

Upon realising this my expression turned into a look of surprise to which jimmy chuckle at. With that, his face averted from me and back down to his guitar.

I stood their giggling at myself taking into consideration that I probably looked like an idiot in the eyes of Jimmy.

Unfortunately for both the audience and myself the show seemed to be coming to a close. and once Robert thanked the crowd and went on to bid them all farewell, it was official.

I wasn’t sure how I was going to meet up with Jimmy and Robert for the drinks I was promised, so for now I decided on hanging around the auditorium.

I watched most of the audience members walk out the exit of the room. Chatting about the events they just witnessed with wide smiles as they soon disappeared from my sight.

Like myself, other individuals seemed to be hanging around as-well. Perhaps to meet the band when they eventually come out or to collect themselves after the heavy concert.

I found a place to sit and waited patiently.

I stared at the wooden floor, still in shock, recounting the performance that I had just witnessed.

I had never experienced anything like it despite frequenting many rock and roll concerts.

I felt a subtle ringing in my ears but I didn’t care, it was definitely worth it.

Suddenly a shadow appeared on the spot of floor I was fixed on.

I looked up and there, in all his glory, was a smiley Jimmy, glistening with sweat.

“What did you think about that?” Jimmy said, a smile spread across his face.

I could not find the words to reply, to be honest I don’t even think there are words to describe what I had just witnessed.

I spontaneously stood up from my seat and leaped onto Jimmy, putting both my arms around his neck in a hug.

“Oh Jimmy! It was incredible” I replied finally.

The realisation that I had only ever met Jimmy once before this had set in and attacking him with a hug like I was an old friend probably wasn’t the best thing to do, so I decided to release him, until I felt his warm hands on my lower back, pulling me towards him, returning the hug.

“Im so glad you think so, Y/N” he whispered to me.

It felt like my legs were about to give out at any second after hearing his voice in my ear while he held me in his arms.

I had never grown such a liking to someone like this before. A single, seemingly innocent guitar lesson which lasted around an hour was to blame for everything.

We released each other from our holds which left me with an instant feeling of emptiness, I could see his lips part, about to speak, but instead he was interrupted.

“Get back here Jim! We’re leaving” Robert bellowed in a very Robert fashion.

The two of us turned to where the voice had come from and there, along with the bassist and drummer he stood near the stage.

Robert shifted his face from Jimmy to me.

“Ahh, Y/N, You came! You enjoy the show?”

I was about to respond but before I could Robert spoke again.

“Jimmy bring Y/N along, let’s go!”

Jimmy turned to me and smiled, it was a sort of what-can-ya-do? Smile, I grinned at him and we walked towards the group.

I found myself in a crowded van filled with equipment. Not only was the band and myself here, but what I assumed to be the girlfriends of the two members of the band as well, to which I finally learnt the names of, John Paul Jones - the bassist, and John Bonham - the drummer.

A few roadies who I presume were friends of the band as well also came along for the trip.

The van was filled with conversation and laughter from every individual as the vehicle driven by one of the roadies made its way to a pub the band frequented.

I had never had this much fun in a while, I loved taking peaks at Jimmy’s face every now and then, just to see his eyes wrinkle with laughter and hear his memorable laugh, I did not want this moment to end.

Wow this took a while to post… I’m so sorry for the delay if you happened to be waiting on part 3! Thank you so much for reading I appreciate it so much. I love you.

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psychedeliagroove · 3 years

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No because 😭😭😭

Me because I worked on my new fic for 2 months and that shit flopped 😭

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psychedeliagroove · 3 years

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Daddy.

#rearrange my organs #sorry not sorry #he’s such a fucking dilf in this #please choke me #jimmy page #led zeppelin #queen #robert plant #queen fanfiction #classic rock #rock #1970s #60s #70s

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psychedeliagroove · 3 years

Text

Me because I worked on my new fic for 2 months and that shit flopped 😭

#jimmy page #led zeppelin #queen #robert plant #queen fanfiction #classic rock #rock #1970s #60s #70s