Chapter Two: On the Road…to Happiness

Wilson had never ridden on a motorcycle before, but not to say he didn't enjoy every second of it. Every sharp turn House would barely make would give him good reason to grip onto House harder, and then the smooth driving of down a near empty highway was pure bliss.

Thankfully House had his back to him otherwise he would've gotten laughed at for his goofy grin. Eventually they were near New York City where people from all around were gathering for the concert.

Eventually they made their sweet time to the parking garage where poor Wilson regrettably paid for parking to which House replied, "I bought the tickets with my pocket money…you get parking," They parked near the front for House's "bum leg" couldn't walk too far.

They were one of the lucky people who got a parking spot near the exit. One man who drove by in an Audi flicked House and Wilson off as they climbed off the motorcycle, and House yelled after the man's open window, "Can't you see that I'm a cripple?!" raising his cane to show the poor guy who had walk a few extra yards. Wilson just sighed, shook his head, and replaced his helmet on the bike, followed shortly by House.

"Where to?" he asked his "crippled" friend who had obviously a better idea to where he was headed.

The blue eyed one looked both ways and crossed the street to the buzzing concert hall, "Maybe towards the big, brightly-lit building with thumping music and people?" he inquired pointed his walking stick to where he was limping.

Wilson hoped that he could make it through one night without sarcasm...one night over. He checked his watch as soon as they stepped into the spacious auditorium they had barely made it in time.

Security had every man and woman go through a ritual scanning and x-ray machine, House and Wilson included. Luckily they were able to go into the shortest of the three lines. The security man behind the computer looked vaguely of Tritter, and grinned at House as he limped through the gate. Eventually after Wilson's belt was removed, and scanned separately, they were allowed to pass into the seating area.

People were everywhere. Most of them looked to be no older than sixteen but some collage students were blended into the crowd. The odd couple limped and walked a few rows over and found their seats. No sooner than they had sat down did House pull out his hat, a green one with white skulls on the sides, and pull it over his curly hair.

Wilson leaned into whisper to him, "Going to ruin the concert? Call out into middle of a song that you knew one in college?" He chuckled at his joke, but House remained stone-faced, and responded in a gravely tone, "Nope. I need disguise. I don't want people to know I'm here. With you."

His friend's brown eyes squinted, confused, but he decided not to press him any more. Besides the lights were begging to dim and the crowd started to scream. The show was about to begin.

Jon Bon Jovi and his band walked out to the shining stage, their faces magnified a thousand times on the screens on the side of the walls. The sound of the people in their comfortable blue seats was deafening. The lead singer grabbed a microphone, "How are we New York City?!" The teens, twenty-somethings, and some loyal fans from the start screamed their response so it was difficult to understand.

Suddenly a guitar chord rang out and the concert started full force with "You Give Love a Bad Name" from the band and the crowd went ape. House didn't cheer but he did lift his hand up in the air in a fist pump.

Wilson cupped his mouth and yelped, "Hell yeah, Bon Jovi! Hell yeah!" Obviously he was thinking of all his ex-wives but House could never know that…