As the bus gets closer, I see the lights of the big city shining through the windows.
This is it. I'm almost there; it only took five years and the final push that was my grandparents telling me what I already knew. There was no reason for me to stay, with dead parents and a dead-end job in a coffee shop. They're the only thing I have and they want me to live my dream, so here I am. It's packed with people on the bus – I'm listening to my records, the only things I possess that I truly care about. A smile appears on my face as I let my head fall back against the seat, staring out of the window. Trying to sleep isn't an option – feelings of excitement stop me.
Mindlessly looking at the scenery and thinking about my plan of action upon arrival, the sign I've been waiting my whole life to see passes by. I get as close to the window as possible, savouring every letter of the "Hollywood" sign. The bus makes its way into the city, blinding lights and colourful people everywhere. My headphones are moved to rest around my neck so I can get feel the vibe of the place. Music can be heard from different bars, dulled by the windows and I'm fascinated.
"I take it this is your first time here boy?" Peeling my eyes from the streets, a woman and man across from me are smiling.
"Is it really that obvious?" I chuckle.
The man laughs, as the woman (his wife?) answers, "Not particularly. You just," she smiles, "look like all of the other youngsters, coming here and being amazed by your first sight of this old place." My gaze flicks back to the window and I nod, slightly.

"Where are you from?" The man is speaking now.
"Oklahoma," he nods, before asking another question.
"What brings you here?"
That makes me think. Why wouldn't I want to come here? All my life, I couldn't help but feel... drawn to this place. I always hoped I'd get here eventually.
"I've always wanted to live here. Now just, seemed like the right time."
The couple shared an understanding look. Maybe they felt the same?
"If you ever need a friendly face, or any advice, look us up; Marvin and Judy Hamilton." The man – Marvin – extends his hand.
"Blaine Anderson," I shake his hand, "And thank you, I will."
The bus pulls up to the pavement – I'm finally here. I allow people to climb off before me, gathering my thoughts and trying to process them in my head. A final goodbye to Marvin and Judy, I grab my bags and head off.

There's so much going on – people running, walking, making noise. The cars contribute to that and also music, from bars and clubs. Trying to take it all in is overwhelming; I've dreamt of this moment for so long and it's finally here. No map and no idea where I'm going. I start to walk, using my instinct as direction and turn a corner, and see it.
The Bourbon Room.
The place where my rock idols have performed. Moving closer, I let the fantasy image in my mind be replaced with the real sight. I hear chanting and look to my right – a group of women, stood behind a barrier, are holding signs that say "God didn't listen to Rock" and "Rockers to hell"

A laugh almost escapes, as I think about the people who don't understand the outstanding sound that is, rock music.
Someone knocks into my back, no, wait, grabs me. Well, grabs my bags. I'm caught off guard, pushed to the ground as a guy takes one of the bags, yanking until I let go and runs off.
Another guy runs after him, shouting something abusive before walking back to me and holding an arm out. Oh, right, I'm on the ground. I take it with a "thanks," and let him pull me up.
And he is something else. Perfectly coiffed, chestnut coloured hair, pale skin with a dusting of freckles, strong jaw line, pink lips and eyes the brightest blue I've ever seen.
"Are you alright?"
He's talking to me and then I realise – I've just been pushed to the ground and mugged.
"Yeah, yeah I'm fine," I shake my head, "Wow, I've been here for half an hour and already been mugged."
He chuckles and I swear it's the best sound I've heard since I got off the bus.
"That's LA for you. I hope there wasn't anything important in that bag."
I look to the one I'm still holding and note that it's the one with the majority of my clothes and money.
"No, it's fine, I have most of my things in here," I gesture to the bag, trying to remember what was in the other one. Then I groan.
"All of my records were in that bag."
The guy looks sympathetic, "That sucks. It really does."
We're silent for a moment, then, "Where you heading?"
I honestly don't know, so I shrug, "a cheap motel, or something. I only have about 20 bucks to my name so I need a job." I notice the guy's t-shirt and no way.
"You work at the Bourbon room?"
"Yeah, and hey! Just your luck – one of the waitresses quit. We need a quick replacement, if you're interested." He half-smirks, as if he already knows my answer.
"Hell yeah!" I say, enthusiastically, gaining a few looks from passers-by.
"Good. Well let's go inside and talk to the manager." He starts to walk, but then stops and turns, "but first, introduce yourself to me."

I extend my hand.
"Blaine Anderson. " He takes it, smiling.
"Nice to meet you, Blaine Anderson. I'm Kurt. Kurt Hummel."