Chapter One

I walked around a little, finding a calendar near the women's bathroom. Late December, 1961. The day, though, I wasn't sure about. I then realized the club had the heater on and that it was a little cold outside. That's why some people were wearing jackets earlier, I figured. Where I'm from, we sometimes don't even get cold during the winter. We get down to the forties – sometimes we hit the teens but it's not every single year – and our high will probably be forty three with a low of like twenty nine or thirty two or something like that.

I looked at the band again. There were only three on the stage. Frankie had stepped from the microphone, and the guitar player had walked up. They were saying their 'goodbyes' to the people at the club.

"On the guitar over there, that's Nick Massi. I'm Tommy DeVito, and over there is Frankie Valli. Thanks for taking your time to come out tonight. Now get lost." Tommy walked away from the microphone as people were clapping for them. I stared at the stage for a moment, wondering what happened to the other guy, who I figured had to be Bob Gaudio, the songwriter. Frankie glanced over at Tommy and nodded his head once at the microphone and mouthed something to him. I saw Tommy mouth something back to him and Frankie rolled his eyes, making his way back to the microphone.

"Also, we have to give a little credit to Bob Gaudio, who had to step off for a second. Good night everyone, have a safe ride home." He stepped away and looked over at Tommy. "It wasn't that hard." He rolled his eyes again and crossed his arms. Bob hurried onstage, nearly bumping into Nick in the process and making the other man glare at him for a moment before going back to putting his stuff up.

"Sorry about that." Bob smiled for half a second before getting his things together.

"Fuckin' klutz..." Nick muttered. Slowly, I found myself walking up to the stage, just a little nervous. I wanted to say I was one of their biggest fans, but since Sherry hadn't even come out yet, it would be just be a little complicated to explain. Tommy was the first to look over. He raised his eyebrows.

"Hi..." I waved nervously, my Texan twang slipping into my voice.

"Hi." Tommy tried to mock the twang, but he wasn't very successful. "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to say that I really enjoyed the show tonight..." I smiled a little.

"Thanks, now go on. I'm sure you've got school tomorrow, and I don't think you'd want to disappoint Mommy and Daddy."

"I don't go to school, and I don't care if I do disappoint my parents." I snapped at him. "In fact, I could give a shit less about what they think." I crossed my arms. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bob suppress a laugh and Frankie smiled.

"I like this kid. She's got an attitude." He said quietly.

"Alright, kid—" Tommy started.

I held up my hand. "Stop right there. My name ain't kid. It's Tyler. Tyler Hampton."

"Tyler?"

"Yeah."

"Isn't that a guy's name?"

"Not necessarily." I shake my head.

"Sometimes girls are named Tyler. Just not a lot." Bob said.

"Well that's fucking awesome, Gaudio, thank you for that." Tommy rolled his eyes. Bob shook his head. Frankie sighed, stepping up.

"I'm Frankie." He said, holding out his hand. "Frankie Valli."

"I –" I stopped myself. "It's nice to meet you." I smiled.

"That's Bob Gaudio and over there is Nick Massi."

Nick muttered his response before getting off the stage.

"I'm going home." He said, going to the door.

"Alright, Nicky, I'll see ya in the mornin'." Tommy said, picking up his guitar case.

"Yeah," Nick then left the building. Bob hopped off the stage, holding a black bag as he did so. In my mind, I put two and two together that his songs were in there.

"I'm leaving too." He called out. Tommy grunted in response.

"Be careful out there, supposed to get to below freezing tonight." Frankie told him.

"Who're you, his mother?" Tommy rolled his eyes.

"Hey, I'm just sayin'."

I looked over at Bob and waved at him as he neared the door. Bob gave a quick wave before leaving. Tommy was the next to get off the stage, holding his guitar.

"Warn Mary, I'll be over there around one thirty tomorrow." He said.

"Oh, she'll be so thrilled." Frankie said sarcastically. I tried not to laugh.

"Yeah, well." Tommy walked out the door. I raised my eyebrows once and then messed with my hands.

"I ought to get going too." Frankie's voice was a little lower, since he wasn't talking to any of his band members. "Mary will have a fit if I don't get home early tonight." He walked towards the door. I followed him, figuring I wouldn't be allowed to be in there alone.

"Who's Mary?" I asked, sounding like an idiot.

"My wife." He held the door open for me.

"Oh, I bet she's beautiful." I smiled. At least, I tried. My acting came in pretty handy here. Why are all the cute ones married? I thought to myself.

"She is." Frankie smiled at the thought of her and then shut the door once I was outside. My hands automatically went up to my arms to rub them and to keep them warm, although it didn't help my legs or my feet. He looked at me. "Did you not bring a jacket?"

"No." I shook my head. "I'm from Texas. We don't usually wear jackets this time of year."

"Texas? What the hell are you doin' all the way up here?"

"...Long story."

"You got a place to stay?"

"Nope." I shook my head. Frankie sighed and shook his head for a second.

"Mary's going to kill me for this..." he said, mainly to himself. "C'mon."

"Where're we going?"

"I'm givin' you a place to stay, unless you want to sleep on the cold concrete."

"I'll go with you."

!

Frankie turned the key on the front door lock and opened the door, quickly, looking inside. Almost instantly, there was footsteps on the stairs and a young woman, maybe a couple of years older than Frankie, walked down the stairs. She wore a robe and her brown hair was down, as if she was getting ready for bed.

"About time you got home." She said, walking over to him. "You get home later and later each time, it's starting to make me wonder." That was when she seemed to have finally noticed me. "Who the hell are you? Are you his— Is she your—? Frankie Valli I swear to fucking God...!" the woman started jumping to conclusions.

"What? No!" Frankie shook his head. "No, she just needs a place to stay."

"Does she not have a home of her own?" her voice began to get a little louder.

"No, I don't." I shook my head. "Look, I just got up here from Texas and I don't have a home or anyplace to go."

"Texas?" the woman's big brown eyes got a little bigger. "You like to travel, don't you?"

"It's alright." I shrug. The woman's demeanor softened a little and she nodded.

"I'm Mary, his wife." She emphasized the last word. "We have a spare bedroom upstairs you can sleep in, as long as you don't mind sleeping across from our daughter's room."

"Not at all." I shook my head.

"Come on." Mary ushered me to the stairs and then turned back to Frankie, who was standing there, running a hand through his hair. "We'll talk later."

The two of us got up the stairs and Mary led me to the room she was talking about earlier.

"I'm guessing the only clothes you have is this outfit you have on right here?" she motioned to my outfit.

"Yeah..." my voice was quiet. Mary sighed.

"I'll be back." She left the room. I looked around, sitting on the twin bed that had a soft blue quilt on it. The pillowcases were white, as were the sheets. The room was a little plain, save for a brown dresser and the brown end table next to the bed. The lamp was pink, the only real contrast in the room. Mary soon returned with a nightgown of hers and set it on the bed and then crossed her arms. I looked over at it – a light yellow with white straps, the nightgown looked as if it would probably reach my knees.

"Thank you." I smiled over at the woman kindly. Mary nodded once.

"How old are you?" she raised her eyebrows.

"Seventeen."

"Why are you so far away from home?"

"I had to get away." I lied a little, but it was true. Texas was filled with a lot of memories for me. My parents seemed to hold me back, and I had planned to leave when I graduated high school to go live in Oklahoma with my aunt and uncle. Looks as if that wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

"So you're a runaway?"

"I guess so. I mean, technically I am. My parents won't look for me. Trust me, I know." I ran a hand through my hair.

"Look, kid..."

"Tyler." I hated being called 'kid'.

"Tyler... I don't know your story, and I don't want to press you for it. All I'm goin' to say is that if someone's looking for you, and it's the cops—"

"I know what you're going to say..." I stopped her. "But trust me. No one's calling the cops and no one's going to be looking for me. Shit, I'm pretty sure my parents are rejoicing right about now. They don't have any kid for my grandmother to lecture them about. They're probably off, smoking those funny cigarettes and getting drunk, they always do." I trailed off. Mary gave me a one armed hug.

"I'm sorry." She said quietly. "I am. But when you leave, I want you to be careful out there. You're a nice kid."

"How long can I stay?"

"However long I guess." She shrugged. "Just keep your hand offa my husband."

"Don't worry, I only go after available guys."

Mary smiled a little and patted my shoulder once before getting up. "Good night, sleep well. The bathroom's down the hall if you need to use it in the middle of the night."

"Thank you." I said quietly, and Mary left the room, closing the door behind her. I started to get undressed, putting on the nightgown she had loaned me.

!

The next day, I walked down around ten thirty, still wearing the nightgown. My hair was a mess, my makeup just a little smudged around my eyes, and I had a song stuck in my head that hadn't left since last night. It seemed that the only ones awake were Frankie, who was in the living room reading the paper, and Mary, who had the news on the TV.

"Tyler?" Frankie apparently had heard me on the stairs.

"Yeah?" I stifled a yawn and made my way off the stairs and leaned on the wall.

"Good morning. Breakfast is on the table."

"Thank you." I yawned.

"How'd you sleep?"

"Pretty good." I poured myself a cup of coffee and took a drink out of it. "Damn...! That's strong..." I whispered to myself, getting something to eat.

"You might want to put something in the coffee, its strong today." Mary said.

"Thanks for the warning." I muttered. There was a cry from upstairs and I jerked my head up.

"Francine's up..." Mary walked upstairs, shaking her head. "I just got her asleep..."

"That kid's got some lungs." Frankie laughed a little. I smiled, finishing my breakfast. I never ate a lot. I usually ate probably an egg and two pieces of bacon and I was full.

"What do I do with this?" I motioned to my plate.

"You can put it in the sink if you want. I'll wash it later."

I did as told. "I thought Tommy was coming over later."

"He is. We've gotta figure out something."

"What is it?"

"Our contract."

"Oh." I nodded and then ran a hand through my hair. It got stuck for half a second in a tangle but then I got that fixed and, even though my head was throbbing, my hair felt a little better. I started singing a popular song from my time (Gone, Gone, Gone by Phillip Phillips) and washed my plate, just trying to be nice. Little did I know, however, is that I was being listened to.

"What song is that?"

I jumped and looked at Frankie, who was still reading his paper but was apparently listening. "What?"

"That song that you were singing."

"Oh. That song." I nodded.

"Yeah. That song." He seemed to be getting a little annoyed.

"It's called... Ah... Gone, Gone, Gone."

"Did you write it?"

My eyes widened and I had to do it to save myself. "Yes. I did." Please, Phillip Phillips fans don't sue me, I thought to myself. After all, I couldn't say it was a popular song on the radio. As Doc Brown would say, it would cause a paradox.

"It's good."

"Thank you."

"You've got a good voice too."

I smiled. "Thank you." I tried not to fangirl. Okay, so maybe I was a little like some White Girls, but not completely. Suddenly, I thought about something and hurried over to Frankie. "Frankie, can I try out for the band?"

"Can you what?" his eyes widened and he looked at me, not expecting my question.

"Can I try out? Audition for the band? Please? I promise that if I don't get in I won't bother you about it again."

"I've got to talk to the guys about it. I think you're good, but they might not."

"Just... Please?"

"I'll try. I'm sure the others would let you, but I'm not so sure about Tommy. But I'll do my best."

I smiled. Little did I know, however, how much this question would change my life.

A/N: I promise this gets better... I know its moving fast and I guess Tyler seems like a Mary Sue but she's not... I promise it'll get better... It's just really late and I'm writing practically half asleep. Just still... No flames, okay? I'm really, really sensitive and I've had a few reviews actually make me cry, so...