Title: Don’t Look Away: Chapter One, White
Rating: R [language]

Summary: Cady and Pete head to the Monterey Pop Festival, not for music, but in hopes of finding each other...




Four months. Four months had passed since she last saw him and her. And hardly a day had passed without his eyes haunting her thoughts. She had withdrawn more and more from Jimi, but he didn’t seem to care or notice. He was a star now, always had women ready to fawn over him or suck his cock. Maybe not as big of a star as he was meant to be, but he surely didn’t need her any more. She was just a part of his entourage now. No one special. Hell, she was even in the process of getting her own apartment in New York, no longer content to sleep where she was ignored. She was only giving Jimi one more chance, but even that was loaded.

Because Jimi’s last chance was the Monterey Pop Festival and The Who were allegedly playing it as well.

It was foolish to think she could recapture anything she had back in London, but that didn’t mean Cady wasn’t going to try. In fact she was investing so much into the trip to California she had called up her now married sister and asked her to come visit in New York so she had someone honest to shop with. It took quite a bit of convincing, but she was due to arrive any moment. How long did it take a bloody plane to land?

Spotting her sister’s dark head in the crowd, Cady pushed away from the wall, waving, “Bryanna!”

The older girl’s brown eyes turned to the shout and she smiled, stepping aside from the crowd. She embraced her younger sister before pulling back to look her over quickly. The two girls were ten years apart, the closest in age to Cady of any of her siblings. While that alone meant Cady was closest to Bryanna, they hadn’t ever been that close, insomuch that Cady hadn’t felt that guilty for missing her sister’s wedding. But of everyone she knew, Bryanna at least pretended to care about her from time to time and would certainly offer the honest opinion her supposed friends wouldn’t.

“Looks like my little sister has been doing some growing up since I last saw her,” Bryanna commented before linking arms with her to head out of the airport. “Mother said you were in England for my wedding. Was it fun?”

“Kinda. But actually I was in Paris the day you got married. Jimi was playing there,” she responded.

“Jimi?”

“Hendrix? He’s a guitarist and singer,” Cady explained, flagging down a cab. “I doubt you’d want to meet him. He might get your white coat dirty.”

Pulling her arm out of her sister’s, Bryanna turned Cady to face her, ignoring the cab, “What’s wrong, Cady?”

Before she had the chance to stop, her face screwed up in pain and tears spilled over her long eyelashes, causing dark kohl to run down her cheeks. Her older sister quickly folded her arms around her, pulling the young girl tightly into her embrace, not caring in the least bit if the girl’s makeup smudged on her white coat. Apparently she hadn’t come a moment too soon for her sister. Retail therapy wasn’t likely to be enough. Someone needed to pick the girl up and return her to her happy self.

“Why don’t you take me to one of your favorite restaurants and we’ll catch up before we head out shopping?” Bryanna suggested.

Cady pulled away, nodded and wiped her nose. It was going to be a long lunch.



He would deny it up and down had anyone asked, but every night of their first American tour, he searched the crowd for her. Even though he knew she was probably touring about the world with Jimi, Pete looked for her. Every pretty brunette reminded him of her, even if the girl was too short or not nearly pretty enough. He had spent the past four months looking at the band’s audience carefully for her. He still to that day did not understand why he never saw her after the concert with Jimi at the Savile. Surely she had to have been there. But weeks of touring the US had not produced the beauty. And yet he still looked for her in every crowd.

It wasn’t like he was unhappy with Karen. She was a good woman, good enough. But his heart really wasn’t into the relationship any more. She could probably tell, he didn’t think he was that good of a liar. When The Who returned to the UK, he had showered her with some attention, before focusing on the band again. He eagerly agreed to returning to the States when approached, not only because it was their first chance of their finances actually being in the black instead of the red, but because he just knew he would find her there again.

And now they were going to be on the same bill as Jimi. It was practically guaranteed he would run into her at the Monterey Pop Festival. Then he could turn some of his dreams into reality. Only there was a catch: Karen had insisted on travelling with them on this brief tour of America. He couldn’t tell her no, especially since she would have asked why and he certainly wasn’t going to tell her because he was hoping to rendezvous with a woman who far outshined her. That would have been foolish and dangerous. So he let her come along. At least he was guaranteed some sex if he couldn’t find Cady. But was he really expecting sex if he did happen to run into Cady? They had only kissed twice and then talked until he lead her down the street for breakfast. There was never any mention of sex at all. But he had certainly dreamt about it nearly nightly since. Oh she was—

A hand slapped the back of his head. Instinctively he whirled about in his seat and punched whoever had slapped him. It did not surprise him in the least bit that it was Keith. The drummer merely grinned at him and skipped to another section of the bus.

“Don’t let him bother you, honey,” Karen stated, patting his leg. “You just egg him on.”

“Of course,” he muttered, but glared at Keith for another minute.

Arms folded across his chest, he closed his eyes and tried to focus on ... anything but Cady. Not a minute passed before he gave that up. It was borderline obsession, but he knew once he had her in his sights, nothing else would matter. And he would. He was certain of it.



Wandering about backstage of the Pop Festival, Cady looked for him. She could have asked any number of people about the whereabouts of The Who, but she didn’t want it to be obvious. And so she just wandered about, stopping to speak with those familiar to her every now and then. Before long buzz began to circulate that The Who were present and her spirits quickly perked up. Her conversations became briefer and disjointed, her eyes wandering. No one seemed to quite catch onto it, likely because they were stoned, high, or distracted by the event themselves.

That is until she was not having a conversation with Mama Cass.

“Cady,” she waved her hand in front of the young woman’s face, “have you even heard a word I have said?”

Her blue eyes snapped to Cass, “Uh, no, sorry.”

She smiled crookedly, “Who’s on your mind, chicklet?”

“How did you know it was a who?”

“I know these things. So?”

Cady flushed slightly, “Pete Townshend. I heard he’s here.”

Cass’s eyes lit up, “Do you have a little crush on Townshend?”

“Maybe.”

She grinned, “Well last I saw him, he was over talking to Jimi.”

Her eyes widened, “He was?”

“I suspect you’ll find him near there.”

“Thanks,” she grinned, turning towards Jimi’s de facto camp.

“If I see him without you, I’ll be sure to hold onto him!” she called after the girl as she hurried off.

With a destination in mind, Cady ignored everyone’s attempts to engage her. She knew where Jimi was. If Pete were anywhere nearby, she would find him. Without a doubt.

Nearing where Jimi sat on an amp, tooling around with his guitar, she felt her pulse race. It had absolutely nothing to do with Jimi, hadn’t for a very long time. But just the knowledge that Pete had been there was enough to cause her heart to do flip flops. She only hoped he was still nearby. The closer she got to Jimi’s entourage, the more nervous she became.

But then she saw him. He had a scowl on his face, something she immediately attributed to Jimi being an asshole, but oh how beautiful he was. Whether intentionally or not, he stood apart from the rest of the crowd in his resplendent white and light paisley suit. She instantly decided fate had determined their path that night, as she too wore white, a contrast to the brightly colored people around. All she needed was for him to see her, then.. oh fuck it, she would approach him right then and there. There were no girls swarming him at all. He was hers for the taking.

Without any forewarning, Pete turned in her direction. Their eyes instantly connected. All the sounds from the musicians and entourages around instantly silenced. It was only the two of them in a nexus of silence. His lips turned in a slight smile and he quickly began to head towards her. With no regard to anyone at all, they collided in a kiss, his arms circling her waist, her arms slipping around his neck.

“When do you go on?” she asked, pulling slightly out of the kiss.

“After Scott McKenzie,” he muttered, scowling again.

“Come away with me,” Cady requested.

“Anywhere.”

Kissing him quickly again, she pulled away, her hand easily enfolding his. Her eyes glanced once in Jimi’s direction, perhaps trying to see if he had seen her display, if he reacted to it. Though he was looking at her, he made no indication of any emotional reaction. She fought hard to not sneer at him before turning away, leading Pete away from the fray.

He couldn’t believe his luck. She was there. Not only was she there, but she apparently had been seeking him out. Never in a million year had he expected her to rush into his arms like she had, to kiss him so passionately in front of everyone. But oh how he had enjoyed it. It instantly gave him bragging rights – and the potential of having to fight others off. But Pete didn’t care. She wanted him.

Away from the crowd, she stopped, turned, and kissed him again before muttering, “Lord have I missed you.”

“You... you have?” he muttered, looking into her eyes.

“I can’t... I can’t explain it. And maybe I don’t need to. But there hasn’t been a day I haven’t thought about you. And oh how I tried not to. I thought by coming back to New York I would be able to put you out of my mind and make my heart stop aching. But I couldn’t. I just couldn’t,” she quickly confessed. “Tell me, Pete... tell me you’ve thought about me too.”

“Oh baby, constantly,” he responded and kissed her again. “Constantly.”

Sighing in relief, a smile curving her lips, Cady looked slightly up into his eyes, “I was hoping... I only came with Jimi this time to see you.”

“You did?”

“I don’t give a fuck about Jimi playing,” she declared with venom in her voice. “He doesn’t give a fuck about me. But he was my surest bet to getting backstage, to finding you. I...”

“How could he not give a fuck about you?” confusion shined in his blue eyes as he tucked her hair behind her ears. “How could anyone treat you that way?”

Her eyes left his briefly, “Oh how I wish everyone thought such kind things that you do, Pete.”

“I just can’t believe... I can’t believe Jimi would do that.”

“Do you have Jimi envy too?” she began to pull out of his arms.

“I...” his arms tightened, not letting her get away. “What do you mean?”

“He’s just a fucking man,” Cady spat. “He’s nothing special.”

“Oh but, Cady, he is amazing on the guita—”

“So are you, Pete. But you’re twice the man he is.”

That declaration caught him completely off-guard. Sure, Jimi had been a jerk to him in half of their interactions, including the one prior to Cady’s arrival. But he knew he had been an asshole probably five times over when compared to Jimi. Hell he had the reputation of being hard to handle. He could not be twice the man as Jimi. That was merely impossible, even if he had twice the nose of Jimi.

“There is no reason to believe that. Jimi is amazing and I’m just—”

She kissed him before he could continued, “He is not amazing. You are, Pete. You are.”

“Cady, how can you say that? You don’t know me. You—”

“I knew you the moment you kissed me in the darkness of London,” she interrupted.

“I... but I never saw you again after that,” he pointed out.

“Jimi went to Europe for awhile, dragging me along. I was there the night the two of you played together,” she stated.

“I... I didn’t see you.”

“That’s because you were kissing some woman,” Cady claimed, this time successfully pulling out of his arms.

For a moment he was confused. Kissing another woman? Why would he do something as foolish as that? Who would he have been kiss – oh, Karen. Karen had been there that night. Fuck. His beautiful angel had seen him kissing his... fiancée. No wonder he had not seen nor heard from her after that. She had no reason to believe that he was pining for her, thinking non-stop about her, trying to figure out some way to be good enough for her.

“Cady, can we... can we talk about that?” he requested softly.

“It’s okay. I understand. You’re married. There’s nothing I can d—”

“I’m not married. I’m engaged. Merely because before I met you, I thought that the right thing to do, she a suitable partner. But then I saw you that first night and everything was different. I’ve merely been killing time until I could be with you again. Fuck, I can’t explain it either. But, Cady, baby, I have been searching every fucking crowd hoping to find you in it. Nothing has been right in my head since I saw you, kissed you, and then lost you. I can’t focus on anything but you,” he quickly explained. “Cady, I—”

“Shit,” she interrupted. “I have to get you back. McKenzie is nearly done.”

“What?”

Cady motioned to the stage, “He’s almost done and you guys are next. We have to get you back.”

Before Pete could argue, she clasped his hand and lead him back into the backstage crowds. Though she did not know his band mates’ names, she did recognize Roger when she neared him. Smiling crookedly as she found his cape interesting, she stopped and quickly turned to Pete. Her free hand went to Pete’s cheek and she quickly pulled him into a kiss. Promising him so much more in that kiss, she pulled away.

“You are amazing, Pete. Go out and show that to all these people,” she stated softly.

“Where are you going to b—”

“As close to the stage on your side that I can get,” she muttered and kissed him again. “And right back here once you’re done.”

Squeezing his hand, she pulled away, glanced at Roger, and then turned to make certain of her promise. For a long moment, Pete watched her walk away. His emotions were once more torn. Oh there was was no doubt in his mind that he wanted her and now that he knew she wanted him, it was inevitable. But he certainly didn’t believe her that he was amazing, especially when compared with Jimi. Though that did bring up the interesting question of what had Jimi done to her. And that was enough for him to start dissecting the aura of Jimi.

But he had a set to focus on, had to focus on. She was going to be in the audience. It had to be perfect.

“Who’s the bird?” Roger asked when Pete finally turned from watching her to check his gear.

“Cadence,” he responded.

“Isn’t she the one with Hendrix?”

His eyes instantly snapped to the singer, “No.”

“Uh huh. Whatever.”

Roger’s words were clearly meant to rub him wrong, as they always were. And they succeeded, casting a pall over Pete nearly instantly. He struggled to push it aside, but at least he would have the concert work out his frustrations. And then he could return to her side and feel whole again.

The girl with pretty blue eyes was quickly forgotten. Not out of want or desire, but rather because the quality of The Who’s performance chased thoughts of her out of his mind. Because of festival logistics as well as travelling overseas, they had not been allowed to bring their own equipment, forced to leave behind their beautiful Marshall amps. Forced to use crappy Vox amplifiers, by the end of the first song Pete’s mood had soured considerably due to the poor sound, as had the rest of the band’s. There was never any doubt in his mind that he would be taking it out on whatever he could.

Near the stage, Cady watched Pete’s temperament change. She was even pretty sure she knew the cause of it. Though she did not think that he sounded that bad at all, living with Jimi had taught her quite a bit about equipment, and she knew he brought his own to insure his sound was exactly what he wanted it to be. It made her wonder why Pete didn’t but she wondered if it would be a good idea to ask. But then it suddenly didn’t matter any more. “My Generation” came to its climatic end and the inferior equipment paid for its failure. Like so many others in the crowd, Cady watched in awe as Pete began to thrash the amps, hitting them with his guitar. When his anger turned to the guitar itself, she turned to make her way out of the crowd and back around the stage. Glancing over her shoulder, she watched Keith kick his kit towards the stagehands attempting to rescue their equipment from The Who’s rage. She desperately needed to be backstage before him.

As she rounded the stage and slipped behind the barriers with a quick nod to security, she was quickly swept into someone’s arms. Before she knew it a mouth crashed down upon hers. Growling her fingers went to his chest and pushed him away. Narrowed eyes looked at the guitarist who hadn’t given her an ounce of attention in many months.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked with a sly smile.

“Leave me alone, Jimi,” she stated.

“But, baby, I’m singing your songs tonight.”

“And I don’t fucking care,” she responded. “Sing what you want. It’s none of my care or concern.”

“Baby,” he reached for her again.

“No,” Cady pushed him away again. “Not your baby. Never your baby.”

She quickly sidestepped him, hurrying towards the stage steps. The Who had already stormed off and were proceeding to bash and kick anything in their way. Unlike most everyone else, Cady did not shrink away from them at all, instead pursued them. She only paused when Pete kicked over a box of oranges and cursed loudly.

“PETE!” she shouted.

Any other voice would not have penetrated his enraged thoughts at all. But somehow her sweet little voice cut through all the bullshit and stopped him in his tracks, his boot about to come down on one of the oranges. He pivoted slightly, his boot touching the ground just to the left of the citrus fruit. Their eyes connected and once more nothing else mattered backstage or elsewhere. How did she have so much power over him?

She pushed through the crowd to him, even as much as elbowing Keith aside. Her arms circled his sweaty neck and she kissed him before he could mutter a word. Holding her mouth to his until he relaxed, Cady pulled back and kissed him quickly once more.

“You were wonderful,” she muttered.

He scowled, “It was horrible. It—”

“Wonderful,” Cady interrupted. “Come with me.”

“No, Cady, you don’t understand,” he argued.

She kissed him again, “The equipment was shit. I get that, Pete. I really do. You, however, were not, darling. You weren’t.”

“Cady,” the scowl still remained on his face, “this performance meant—”

“A lot. I know,” she interrupted again. “It’s okay, Pete. Everyone out there in the crowd was blown away and that was before you guys kicked the shit out of everything on stage. People are going to be talking about The Who, darling. Trust me.”

“But—”

“Come on,” she tugged on his hand. “Or do you want me to blow you in front ofeveryone?”

His mouth fell open. Had she really just said to him what he thought she had? Apparently because everyone near them were staring at them. He couldn’t answer her question, not at all. Saying yes would probably insult her, saying no would make him look like some pushover bloke. But he wasn’t about to be cocky with her, not Cady. So he did the most reasonable thing he could: he followed her silently away from the crowd.

Once they were away from the crowds, he asked quietly, “Cady, did you mean that?”

“That I was going to blow you?” her innocent eyes went to his.

“Um... yeah.”

Cady winked at him before pressing her lips to his, “Maybe if you’re good, I will. Come on. Let’s go watch Jimi. You can make fun of him when he plays out of tune.”

He resisted following her, “Cady, are you serious? I can’t go out there and—”

“Think about it, Pete. He’ll see you with your arms around me. How do you think that’s going to make him feel.”

His eyes widened slightly, his fingers grabbed hers once more, and he pulled her towards the crowd. They met up with Mama Cass who smiled knowingly at their clasped hands. Silently Pete sat next to Cass, Cady quickly sitting in his lap without invitation. His arms settled happily about her waist, covering the only spot of colors she wore, a gauzy pink sash tied about as a belt. She leaned back, turning to kiss him as Jimi took the stage. Cass could not help but smile even more at that gesture, believing in that moment that she was truly seeing a magical moment.

Pete tensed a few times during Jimi’s set, but every time he did that, Cady would pivot slightly and kiss him. Quickly picking up on his triggers, she sought to counteract them before they escalated. Unfortunately she knew she was the one Jimi sang about in half of his songs; it was likely Pete did as well. But she had no desire for Jimi whatsoever and currently no intentions of leaving California with him either. If Pete would not have her, she would just fly back to New York herself. But before then, she was going to make certain that he not only knew she wanted him, but that Jimi knew that as well.

Wrapping up his final song, Jimi pulled his guitar over his head. Laying it on the stage, he knelt beside it, almost as if in prayer. This time it wasn’t Pete who tensed but Cady. She just knew he was about to do something in an attempt to upstage The Who, to upstage Pete. He struck a match and dropped it on his guitar, his hands waving above as if he was conjuring the flames from the instrument. There was nothing that odd with his setting the guitar on fire; that she and Pete had seen him do before. But it clearly was not enough this night. Even after squirting more lighter fluid on it, it was not enough.

He picked up the guitar and began to strike it against the speakers, against the stage, against everything. Before slamming it hard onto the stage, what was likely the deathblow to the guitar, he looked directly at Cady, meeting her eyes. With all his strength, Jimi slammed the guitar into the stage, causing it to splinter. Cady could not help but know that as he destroyed that guitar, he destroyed something bigger. She had after all been the one who painted his guitar.

“Isn’t this guy stealing your act?” Mama Cass asked.

“Yeah, but you see, he’s so fucking great. Who cares?” Pete responded, glancing at her.

Cady however was not nearly as accepting of the at. Wiggling in Pete’s lap until she could not handle Jimi’s destruction, she got abruptly up. Glancing briefly at Pete, she turned and began to push and weave through the crowd, all who were completely transfixed with Jimi’s destruction. Perplexed Pete got to his feet and pursued her, afraid he would lose her in the frenzy of the crowd.

Catching up with her, his hand circled her wrist, spinning her around to face him in a near boomerang effect, “Cady, what’s gotten into you?”

“I just... I just can’t, Pete,” she responded.

“What?”

“I can’t just sit there and watch him destroy me, even if I planned to never fucking talk to him again,” Cady explained.

“It was just a guitar, Cady.”

“No, Pete, it wasn’t. I painted that guitar.”

His mind quickly wrapped around her statement. Jimi had stolen his act to obliterate her. The symbolism was packed, especially when adding the layer of the song he ended with the destruction. No doubt existed in Pete’s mind at all that the song, as half of the set, was inspired by the beautiful girl standing before him. Even though Jimi had not written the song, it was clear who it was intended for. And Cady was clearly no fool. She understood, far sooner than Pete had.

“Baby,” he stepped closer, moving in to kiss her, “you never have to deal with him again.”

She turned a cheek to Pete’s kiss, “That’s not the point, Pete. My god if he’s that violent with his guitar, what would he do to me?”

Her question caused pause to his thoughts once more. If she feared Jimi because of the destruction of that guitar, did that mean she feared him? He was after all the first one to kill a guitar on stage. But he wouldn’t ever hurt her; he knew that without question. But did she?

“Baby, you know I would never hu—”

“Of course I do,” she interrupted. “But Jimi’s different than you. A hell of a lot different than you. Fuck, I need to get back to New York before he does.”

Slipping his other arm around her to keep her from spinning about and walking away again, at least until he had some answers, Pete asked, “Why?”

“Because I haven’t moved all of my things out of his apartment yet. Like hell I am going to let him set it on fire,” she declared.

“You live with him,” he stated.

“Lived. No more. I have a loft in SoHo now, but I haven’t moved all my things yet. Now I have to. I have to get back to New York before Jimi does,” she claimed.

“I’ll go with you and help,” Pete instantly offered.

Cady smiled and touched his cheek, “You don’t want to stay here with your band and bathe in the revelry?”

“No, not at all,” he responded. “We’re just supposed to fly back to England anyways.”

She kissed him sweetly, “Then come to New York with me, Pete. Don’t make me miss you any more.”

Releasing her with a quick explanation that they had to go inform his manager before fleeing, Pete couldn’t believe his fortune. Not only had he found her, but he was staying with her. Nothing could ruin his high, not Jimi Hendrix, not his own band, not – fuck, Karen.

“Pete?” the British brunette questioned as she approached the pair. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking all over for you since your performance.”

Cady instantly dropped Pete’s hand, “I’m sorry. I’ll be going. Have a good night.”

Pete’s fingers darted out and wrapped around her arm, “Don’t leave me, Cady.”

Karen looked from her fiance to the young woman, her eyebrow arching upwards. Perceptive as most women, she quickly ascertained the tension between Pete and the stranger. Quickly everything that had happened the past few months came into perspective, especially with the utterance of the girl’s name, one Pete had called out during lovemaking on more than one occasion. It all made sense.

“Fuck you, Pete. Fuck you,” Karen muttered and wrenched the ring off of her finger.

Both Pete and Cady watched the small diamond ring bounce off Pete’s chest before the other woman stormed off. Slowly Cady relaxed, her eyes dropping to the grass where the ring lay at Pete’s feet. With the girl no longer a flight risk, Pete released her arm and reached down to pick up the ring.

“That went about as well as I expected.”