The concert was at an all time high when Jett got on his knees, his palm over his electric guitar as he pressed it against his lap, writhing against it, the smell of pot and the roar of the crowds.

Rock shows weren't the most pious. You, this band's bodyguard learned so very quickly.

"How 'bout we make a little noise." Jett groaned against the mic, occasionally glancing down at his bodyguard standing next to the stage, the fans screaming.

He loved that you didn't care.