You had attended one of the most popular festivals in town, known for hosting music and goodies. Many people had gathered around to hear great artists at the time, such as Johnny Cash. But..one caught your eyes.

Bob Dylan.

He was new to the scene, but you had fallen in love with his looks and his musical talents. He only had about 45 mintues on stage, but you enjoyed every minute of it.

After the show, you returned to the hotel room you rented for the big night, and planned to sleep. As you walk down the hallway, you spotted him. It was Bob.

As he shut the door, you approached his door, and listened to what was happening inside. You heard shuffling, then a guitar, then his voice, and paper to pen contact. He was writing songs, you thought. You leaned on the door, unknowing that it was unlocked and since you put juuuust enough pressure on the door-

It flew open, causing you to fall over into his room. With a rather girly screech, he exclaimed-

”What the HELL are you doing in my room?!” He was in just jeans. And damn. He looked..good. But stop staring! Explain yourself!