Mike's P.O.V:

It's been nearly a week since I've seen that girl at the Vincent Van Go-Go, where the other guys and I had a short gig to help us pay the rent due last month.

Of all the times I've been at the Vincent, I had several encounters with many girls there, but none were quite like the girl I saw in that place and she was the grooviest looking girl I've ever seen.

These pass few days, the fresh image of her played continuously in my mind since that night. She was sitting down at a table in the back, her long wavy hair was the color of bronze and her eyes were a lighter shade of brown. She looked like someone from those fashion magazines because she was simply breathtaking and I was moved by her that night.

It was even harder to focus on my guitar, strumming the right chords and keeping my fingers in the right places, because I didn't want to take my eyes off her. Even after I spent hours rehearsing the songs I'd wrote for the band, she could have easily made me mess up. The moment I sang, "The Kind Of Girl I Could Love", a song I wrote about with no one in particular. Just a song if I ever found a girl who could like me enough to be mine, I felt that she could be the one.

Now, I have to talk her without making a fool out of myself.

None of the guys knew about her and I'm not sure if I should tell them. Davy will probably get stars in his eyes the second he sees her and fall in love, which is all the time. All the girls fall for Davy. Sometimes, girls fall for Micky and Peter too, but when it comes to me and girls, I could never find the right one. I feel unlucky at times, when there are girls who are interested in me, I'm never into them and vice versa.

The girl at the Vincent did catch my eyes and her image stained my mind like a painting in an art gallery. I continued to watch the blue ocean waves rolling along the shores from the balcony outside the beach house this early morning.

'I need to see her again.'

End P.O.V.

These last few days in the alternate city of Malibu, California, went by quicker than I imagined. I've been living my new life here for almost a week now and it was all thanks to a pocket watch. A pocket watch that took me into a dimension of the television universe of the Monkees. Slowly, this notion of time travel was something I've been getting used to, even if I still don't understand most of it.

I haven't really taken the time to fix the device, but there was no rush and this new life in 1967 California brought a warm spot to my heart. Don't get me wrong, I do miss my friends and my father in 2012, but part of me wants to stay here a little while longer because it was too soon to say goodbye.

The early morning had woken me up with the soft rays of sunlight peaking through the yellow sheer curtains of my bedroom windows. Slowly, I left the comfort of my bed and stepped into the bathroom for a nice warm shower.

As I reached my room to get dressed, I decided to wear a soft blue blouse with a white pleated skirt falling a little above the knees, and royal blue Mary Jane pointed flats. I wore the only jewelry I had, pearl earrings and the pocket watch before grabbing my floral pastel cream cardigan and light brown saddle purse.

I head downstairs for a quick bowl of cereal and tea for breakfast. Once I was done with that, I head back upstairs to brush my teeth and take care of my face and hair. I lightly applied some powder to my face, black mascara, light brown eyeshadow, and a soft shade of pink lipstick. Then I brushed my hair using a blow dryer and added a navy blue ribbon as a hair band. Taking one more look in the mirror, I grabbed my house key and walked out the front door heading straight into town.

By the time I arrived to the record store, it was already opened to customers. My boss, Robert Herman greeted me the second I walked into the store after opening the steel and glass door.

"Good morning, Marilyn. How are you?" He shot up a warm grin, walking around the register and straightening up a few records from a nearby shelf.

"Morning, Mr. Herman. I'm very good, thank you. How has your morning been?" I looked at him with a smile running along my pink lips. I came towards the register counter and settled my purse and cardigan on the red wooden coat hanger behind me.

"It's been good so far. Beautiful today, isn't it? Tonight, I'll be taking my lovely wife to dinner. We're celebrating our fifteenth anniversary." Excitement ran in his voice, as my lips formed a wide smirk feeling happy for him and his wife.

"Oh, that's wonderful! Congratulations." I happily told him and he thanked me before retreating in the stock room in the back of the store. He needed to pick up a few boxes of various records to be restocked.

Music from the Paris Sisters to the Rolling Stones filled the air while I took my position behind the register, looking outside the large panel windows. There were a few motor vehicles passing by on the streets, several people walking along the sidewalks and enjoying the bright sunny morning, and here I was waiting for customers to come inside the store, so I can tend to them.

As the long day went by, not a lot of customers came into the store today and I tried to keep myself busy by organizing misplaced records on each shelf. I made a mental note to myself to purchase a few records I liked. I also sorted out the magazines on the steel rotating racks from best to worst and talked to Mr. Herman about his anniversary plans tonight, even getting to know more about himself.

As the evening rolled on by, I sat down on the small cushion stool behind the register staring through the rectangular windows once again as I watched the city pass by my eyes. Mr. Herman even considered closing the shop early after he noticed the slow pace. He told me he was going to close the shop at 5 o'clock, giving him enough time to pick up something extra special for his wife tonight. Right now, the small blue clock above the door leading into the stock room read 4:20 p.m., which wasn't too bad.

The relaxing Californian melody of The Beach Boys "Wouldn't It Be Nice" played inside the record store. I found some loose blank paper and drew some pretty flowers out of boredom as I remained at the register. Mr. Herman stayed in back to organize the stock room.

Suddenly, I heard the small bell ringing in my ears, a customer came into the store, but I didn't look up to see who walked in. I did hear him whistling a tune that sounded like "Brown Eyed Girl" by Van Morrison. His whistling continued, as I heard him grab something light from the wall next to the instruments until he stopped entirely once he reached the register. My eyes came in contact of the small packet of D strings for a bass guitar as I finally looked up to see the man.

Fireworks ignited, exploding into bits of confetti inside my stomach.

"Hello." I heard the Southern Texan voice speaking to me. His deep chocolate eyes burned into mine, giving me seconds to answer him as thousands of responses set off in my mind all at once.

"Oh. Hi. Is this all that you need?" My voice nervously let out, taking the strings packet in my hand and punching in the numbers to ring up the receipt. He looked at me with a wide smirk spreading on his handsome face.

"Yes, that's all. My buddies and I were having rehearsal at our pad and my friend's base string broke. We need him to play tomorrow night at the Vincent, so I'm here to buy these strings for him." He began to explain the situation and looked at him with a soft grin.

I knew the one he was talking about was none other than Peter. It was very sweet how this guy in the green wool hat really cared for his friends, but all I can think about was how nervous I felt standing before him. It also didn't help to see him staring at me with those deep rich eyes.

"It's really nice of you to do this for him. I bet he's glad to have a friend like you." A small squeak escaped from my voice, hoping he didn't noticed how nervous I was. I soon placed his purchase in a small brown paper bag with his receipt inside before handing him his change. He took his change, stuffing it in the front pocket of his blue jeans and noticing the slight pink tint on his cheeks. He looked cute when he blushed.

"Oh, well, I couldn't let down my friend, Pete. He's a little sensitive and we need him tomorrow, so we can pay the rent." He told me, as the butterflies nipped inside of me.

As he reached for the small bag I've been holding for him, his fingers brushed against mine feeling a cool spark of electricity tingling all over my skin. He didn't say anything afterwards, he stuffed the brown bag in the pocket of his jean jacket and awkwardly turned his back walking towards the door. Then he stopped halfway, walking back to the register and firmly placed his hands on the counter.

"By the way, my name is Michael. Michael Nesmith, but I'm fine with being called, Mike. Mostly, everyone I know does. I live on 1334 North Beechwood Drive with my friends and we're in a rock band called, the Monkees. We played at the Vincent Van Go-Go a few nights ago. I remembered seeing you there that night, please don't think I'm a creep for telling you this, but I wanted to see you again after that night. Then I found you here at Mr. Herman's record store the next day. For the last few days, I've been walking past the store because I wanted to talk to you, but I was really shy to face you. Look, I could understand if you don't want to see me again. You probably think I'm crazy, I'm sorry." His words soften as he introduced himself to me, confessing how he noticed me at the Vincent that night. He's been wanting to see me again and secretly walked past the record store watching me from outside. Only, he's been trying to find the courage to talk to me. Mike left me lost for words as he sadly looked at his hands. He felt completely embarrassed and quickly apologized to me.

My heart began racing like a horse on the race track. I never imagined this will ever happen, not in a million years, but the proof was there in front of me. The two of us standing face to face, having a conversation was very surreal to me. I needed to tell him how I felt.

"Honestly, Michael, I don't think you are a creep or crazy. You don't really look the type and you shouldn't be sorry, I'm actually flattered you went to all this trouble to try to talk to me. No one has ever done anything like that for me. I'm really glad you finally did though." As I spoke to him, I noticed his warm light brewing inside those brown eyes. He looked relieved and even surprised that I didn't turn him away, looking at me with a soft grin.

'How can he think that I wouldn't want to see him. Have other girls rejected him before?' I deeply thought in my head, before introducing myself.

"Anyways, it's nice to meet you, Michael. My name is Marilyn Rose Torgerson, but you could just call me Marilyn. I'm actually new to this city, I just moved here a few days ago and that was the night when I stumbled upon the Vincent Van Go-Go. And that's where I watched you and your friends performed on stage the first time. I really love your music by the way." I looked at him with a gentle smile resting on my lips. Exchanging introductions, telling him I was from out of town, even gushing over how great the Monkees music was that night. A large wide grin beamed on his face, hearing his lovely Texan accent again.

"Oh, wow! Thanks, Marilyn! I'm really glad you like our music. I think you have a really groovy name, too. I wondered if you were new here because I've never seen you around before. Where did you move from?" Michael excitedly belted out, happy to know I liked their music. He became more interested to know more about me and I didn't mind. I just left out the details about being from the future and time travel out of the conversation.

"I'm from San Diego, La Jolla to be in fact. I just started my summer break from college, so I decided to visit L.A. and I'll probably stay here until the end of August." I explained to him, as it wasn't a complete lie. Mike looked at me with a bright expression, raising his eyebrows as his mouth left slightly opened.

"San Diego! Wow, I heard it's a great city and I've always wanted to check it out. You're really going to like it here, Marilyn. Listen, I have to go now and give Peter his strings so we can finish our band practice." His eyes dimmed slightly, looking upset to leave, but they quickly shined brightly again. "Hey, the guys and I are having a party at our place and we'll be throwing a gig on the beach tonight. I know we just met and all, but it would be great if you could be there. I can even introduce you to the other Monkees, I'm sure they'll like to meet you." Michael's voice filled with hope and I couldn't say no.

"Sure, I'd like to go. I'll actually be off in a little while, so I'll come by after I go home to change. Thanks, Mike." I gave him a warm smile, calling him by his short name. He was excited to know I'll be there tonight.

"You're welcome. I'll see you there and you can't miss the house, it'll be the one with a small stage set up behind it. Bye, Marilyn and thanks for the strings, too!" He smiled at me one last time as he said "goodbye", leaving the store soon afterwards. I couldn't stop smiling as I was left in a sea of mixed emotions.

I had just met Mike Nesmith in person for the first time and this wasn't going to be the last. I prayed for the clock to reach 5 o'clock already, so I could rush home and change for tonight.