Over the course of the afternoon, Harry was glad to have met Josef. Not only did he speak nearly all the local languages - saving Harry a great degree of embarrassment - Josef was an outgoing and enthusiastic person to be around. He had a way of drawing Harry out of his shell, and soon, they were trading stories back and forth.

"So the woman you are following, what does she look like?"

"She's absolutely beautiful, inside and out. She has long, wavy blonde hair and bright eyes, and she's about this tall," Harry said, marking a point just below his shoulder. "Actually, I can show you."

Harry reached inside his bag, remembering the two photographs they had taken together in Paris, with the city as a backdrop. He wasn't sure why he had brought them, but something inside him told him that if he found Donna, he would want to give one to her.

He held out the photo for Josef to see. Harry was to the bottom left of the photograph, his hair a mess, blowing in the wind. To the right was Donna, looking as perfect as ever. Josef looked up from the photo at Harry.

"I agree, she's beautiful. Much too beautiful to be with somebody like you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Maybe I should join you in Greece, she might prefer a strong Czech man to an English boy like you."

"Hey!"

Josef broke out into laughter and handed the picture back to Harry.

"We have to head to the bar before the performance in a few hours. I will take you there now."

"It doesn't happen to have food, does it?"

"I promised you Czech food and I do not fail promises, Harry."

At the bar, Josef waved to one of the bartenders.

"My brother," he explained.

Tugging Harry's sleeve, Josef walked towards a booth at the side of the room. Harry grabbed a menu as they passed by the bar and tucked it under his arm. Upon sitting, Harry opened the menu and scanned for something that looked good, or at least something that he could understand and order.

How is it that you never realize how hungry you are until you finally have a chance to eat-

Josef snatched the menu out of his hands and signaled for one of the waiters to come over.

"I wasn't done-"

Waving his hand, Josef cut Harry of mid-sentence. Slightly miffed, Harry tried to speak again, but Josef refused to give him the space. In rapid Czech, Josef engaged in a lively conversation with the waiter waving his hands to emphasize the point. Harry, who understood none of the discourse, attempted to mimic the waiter's reactions rather than sit there blankly. When he laughed and shook his head, Harry forced a laugh and shook his head. When he placed his hand down on the table and leaned forward towards Josef, Harry rested on his elbows and bent an ear towards Josef. When the waiter turned to Harry with a look of shock and amazement, Harry panicked and his eyes widened. Perhaps it wasn't perfect mimicry.

Slightly concerned, Harry glanced at Josef, only to see a taunting smirk.

Oh god, what did he say about me?

"Er...hello there. How are you?"

Clearly enthralled, the waiter turned to Josef who apparently was translating Harry's question. Harry's confusion was obvious, as his head turned between the ecstatic waiter and Josef, who maintained a very serious disposition.

"Thank you, sir. Thank you," the waiter said to Harry in heavily accented English before reaching his hand out and offering it to Harry.

After Harry shook it, the waiter looked like he was about to cry. Harry let go and the waiter held his right hand in his left as though it was a priceless artifact. The waiter turned to Josef and spoke again in Czech before hurrying away. Harry turned back to Josef, whose eyes had taken on a particularly mischievous glint.

"You do not know what I said, do you?" Josef leaned forward on his elbows towards Harry.

"I haven't the faintest idea, no."

"I told him that you were my special guest, all the way from London."

"Are Londoners that exotic in Prague?"

Josef shook his head.

"You must let me finish. He asked why you were here and I said you had a concert for your devoted Czech fans."

"Hang on, I haven't got any devoted Czech fans."

"Who travels with a guitar to Praha if he does not have Czech fans?"

Harry shrugged incredulously, "So you convinced him I'm a famous musician?"

"Not just a famous musician. The most famous English guitarist in Czechoslovakia."

"What do you mean?"

Josef tried to speak but only managed to get out a few words as he collapsed into laughter.

"Bloody hell, get a hold of yourself. Just let it be."

His comment only seemed to insight further chaos. Josef was practically tearing up and as people sitting at nearby tables began to whisper, Harry felt his face turn bright red. Taking several deep breaths, Josef pulled himself closer to Harry, making sure that nobody nearby could hear what he was saying.

"I told them you were Paul McCartney, famous guitarist from the Beatles."

"You didn't."

Josef only grinned in response.

"Josef, please tell me you didn't."

"You are English. You have a guitar. How do I know you are not Paul McCartney?"

"Paul McCartney is nearly forty years old!"

"Keep your voice down. We wouldn't want your fans to mob you."

Harry grew as quiet as a mouse, mortified at what Josef had done. The waiter returned a few moments later with some thin pastries on a plate and Josef pushed them towards Harry. Harry listened intently as Josef spoke in Czech again. This time, he could distinctly hear the phrase "Wings."

This can't end well.

"Palačinky!"

The waiter gestured to the plate as if he were presenting a magnificent work of art, or a sacrifice to a benevolent god. Wide-eyed, Harry attempted to smile, and managed a small thank you before the waiter left.

"What in god's name have you gotten me into?"

"I have gotten you into free palačinky. Eat."

Harry's shoulders dropped and he looked exasperated. Josef slid the plate closer towards him, urging him to take one of the thin pancakes.

What would Paul McCartney do?

Harry took one of the treats and began eating. It looked sort of like a crepe, but tasted sweeter and lighter. Inside was a strawberry jam which satisfied Harry's sweet tooth for possibly the rest of his life.

"Josef," Harry whispered, "please don't tell me you are expecting me to perform at this bar with everyone thinking I'm Paul McCartney."

Despite his protests, Harry was very much aware that he was at the mercy of Josef's jovial nature. Even if he wanted to, it wasn't as if he could get out of it now. He didn't know how to say 'I am not the legendary guitarist from the most famous pop band of the last decade that changed the face of the music industry" in Czech.

"They can't tell the difference. You said you play guitar."

Before Harry could continue to panic, Josef reached over to rest his hand on Harry's shoulder.

"I didn't tell them you're Paul McCartney."

"Thank god-"

"I only told them you are a close friend of his."

"Why would you do that?"

"You'll only be here for two nights. Don't you want to be famous for a few nights?"

Harry let the corner of his mouth rise ever so slightly. Josef put his hands up like he was showing off a billboard.

"Harry Bright, tonight only!"

"No, that's not a very good rockstar name at all."

"Then what is your name?"

"Harry Headbanger," he declared confidently.

Before Josef could interrupt, Harry added, "Donna liked it."

Josef shrugged in response, still holding back laughter.

"Harry Headbanger it is."

The rest of the meal was uneventful. Well, it was uneventful given Harry's new celebrity status. The waiter came out and asked for his autograph (which he felt extreme guilt signing, but did anyway). Josef's brother, a man who shared his dark hair and large frame, wrapped his arms around Harry and gave him a bear hug before he declared something to the entire bar that caused them to erupt in cheers. The number of photos taken of him in one night surpassed the amount taken of him in the entirety of his life.

"Harry, come meet the musicians."

In the corner of the room stood two people, chatting quietly as they moved around the instruments. The woman leaning against the piano wasn't much shorter than Harry but was much leaner, and had dark brown hair pulled back into a bun. Harry couldn't tell how tall the man was, since he was bent over assembling the drum kit but he had a very thin frame and blonde hair that was around shoulder length. As Harry approached, they looked up with curious expressions.

"This is Tomas, our drummer." Josef gestured to the man with sideburns. "Dominika pays the piano."

Harry gave a very large and very fake smile as he offered his hand to shake.

"Hello, I'm Harry. Very nice to meet you."

This is sort of fun, pretending I'm a celebrity, Harry thought, feeling a bit silly. It's like I'm undercover.

"I've never heard of any Harry Headbanger," Dominika squinted at him.

My cover's been blown. ABORT, ABORT, ABORT-

"I...um…."

Josef interrupted, chuckling as he covered for the panicking Harry.

"Dominika, he's new to the industry," Josef laughed.

"You speak English?"

Harry spoke partly out of shock and partly out of excitement. With another English speaker around, it would be harder for Josef to play tricks on him. Tomas moved towards the group to join in the conversation.

"Many here speak English. Why are you surprised?"

"My entire day, Josef has been telling me that he needs to speak for me, since everyone speaks Czech."

Harry turned to Josef to confirm, but the other man had a guilty smile on his face.

"Perhaps I exaggerated. But you enjoyed your day, no?"

"Oh, you bugger-"

Harry playfully punched Josef in the shoulder, conceding that he had fallen for the charade. The initial embarrassment over with, Harry began making quick friends with Tomas and Dominika. Both admitted that while they had not heard of him, anybody that was friends with the legendary Paul McCartney was certainly worth performing with. Harry replied that performing with what must be the greatest band in Prague would be the far greater privilege.

The performances themselves were upbeat and fun. The songs didn't all follow a specific trend, but Harry would have designated it as a Russian folk rock band if he had to choose a genre. He knew very few of the songs, especially those performed in Czech and Russian, but thanks to Dominika's chord progression signals, he was able to keep up. Once in a while, Josef would cease singing in his deep, mellow voice and point to Harry, at which point he would step forward and solo. Those moments were particularly gratifying- seeing patrons of the bar turn towards him and cheer on the overexcited English boy rock out on an acoustic guitar.

"In honor of Harry Headbanger's presence, we will now perform a song by his friend, Paul McCartney!" Josef cheered into the microphone, repeating the statement in Czech.

"Oh yeah I tell you somethin', I think you'll understand," Josef belted. "When I say that somethin', I want to hold your hand."

Harry leaned into the microphone, smiling at Josef next to him. The crowd cheered as Harry Headbanger joined in for the chorus.

"I want to hold your hand, I want to hold your hand"

The song was their most successful of the night, receiving a full round of applause. Josef's brother came up and thanked the band for coming out to play, and apologized that they were closing early.

"You know we have no choice but to close early on Mondays," he replied. "Tonight is my night at the station."

Josef turned to Harry to offer a brief explanation.

"My brother is an officer, and he patrols on Monday nights. We should get back to the apartment It's nearly midnight."

Harry was in shock at being told the time. Surely, they hadn't been playing for hours!

"I can't believe how late it's gotten! I just had a wonderful time!"

"Perhaps tomorrow night, you'll perform us a few songs in English!" Tomas joined in.

Dominika agreed, "Might as well, given how much palačinky you ate!"

Harry laughed, conceding that the first plate had simply not been enough, but it was really Josef's fault for continuing to get him more.

"Tomorrow night it is then."

Returning back to Josef's apartment was not a difficult journey, as it was only a few buildings down from the bar. Bidding adieu to Tomas and Dominika, Harry followed Josef into his home. It was reasonably large for a two bedroom apartment, and Harry asked if he had a roommate he was expecting.

"No, my roommate was the guitar player. He quit a few weeks ago. If you weren't going to Greece, I'd tell you to join the band permanently. You were very good tonight."

"You don't mean that, Josef."

Josef shrugged, not answering Harry's question.

"I'll be leaving for the train station before you are awake tomorrow, so feel free to wander. Meet me back here at five."

"Sounds like a plan, Josef. Sleep well."

The two wished each other good night, and Harry settled down to sleep in the undecorated second bedroom. The performance had pumped plenty of adrenaline back into his veins, but eventually he fell asleep, dreaming of the next night. In his dreams, the crowd was chanting his name as he performed the best rock solo of all time, his knees down on the ground and the guitar lifted above his head, fingers flying on the strings.

"Harry Headbanger! Harry Headbanger! Harry Headbanger!"

But when he looked out at the hordes of fans clamoring for his attention, Harry didn't see any of them. Instead, a spotlight shone down on a special guest, who was bouncing up and down and waving to him on the stage. Her pride was obvious, as she tilted her head and let a huge smile break out on her face. She began cheering his name, her voice smothering those around her. Harry felt his heart swell, because he could perform to crowds of ten, ten thousand, or ten million, but the size of the audience would never matter if she was in it.

In his sleep, a look of contentment was on Harry's face. Dreaming of Donna made everything in the world wonderful, because while she was far away, that was temporary.

"I'll be there soon," he murmured.