classic rock imagines

Richie Sambora

~ Just Rockstar Things ~

"It's just a few hours, (Y/N)," David said, locking the front door as I fumed like an angry child on the porch. "We'll be back in no time."

"I still don't know why I have to go. I'm not a teenager-- and even then you wouldn't have the right to drag me around to places."

"Well, adult or not," David said, taking his key out of the lock and turning to face me, "I'm your big brother." He put on a baby-talk voice. "And I wove you and want you to be happy," he pinched my cheek, "yes I do. Yes, I do!"

"Shut up, I get it!" I swatted his hand away and stepped back. "Enough. I'll go with you, but you owe me something."

We stepped off the porch together.

"Like what?"

"I don't know yet. But you do. Just you wait."

He rolled his eyes and laughed, and we started the walk toward Alec's place. It only took about fifteen minutes to get there, and we walked quickly, so we were there in no time.

David knocked on the door, and we were let in by Tico. Jon and Alec greeted us from the kitchen, where they were supposedly making snacks. In reality, they were having a food fight.

"(Y/N), go get Richie, will ya? He's out on the roof," Jon pointed out the back door. I nodded and made my way out.

I'll cut the crap: I've got a very slight crush on Richie. I know I keep denying it, and maybe my feelings run deeper than I'm willing to admit, but he's one of my brother's best friends. I'd feel wrong trying to pursue him.

I shook my head to clear it of these thoughts and climbed the ladder to the roof. I found Richie on his back, lightly strumming the strings of a guitar laying across his stomach.

"Richie," I called. "They're calling you."

He didn't say anything, so I approached. His eyes were closed and he had a small smile on his lips. I knelt beside him and reached out and shook his arm to try to get a reaction. I felt his muscle harden under my touch in order to keep playing the guitar as steadily as he was.

"Richie!" I said, drawing out the word. "Get up!"

The little smile grew, but his eyes remained closed and he kept right on playing.

I tugged at his hair, flicked his head, punched his arm, and even sat on his leg, but he wouldn't yield. Finally, I put a hand on the neck of his guitar.

He bolted upright and turned to me. He narrowed his chestnut eyes, saying, "why?"

"I had to," I said.

"Oh, sure," he replied, setting his guitar down next to him. "Oh, well, I was going to stop soon anyway. So, how are you, (Y/N)? What's new?"

"Just swell, and not much," I sighed. "What about you? How's life as the great Richie Sambora?"

He laughed. "No one calls me that."

"I do. Now answer the question."

"It's going... it's going," he responded. "Could be better."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he sighed. "Nothing can be wrong. I'm a rockstar. I have it all. Money, friends, what could I ever wish for?"

I sensed the heavy tone in his voice and sat next to him. "Now tell me the real answer."

His eyes shifted to me and he heaved another sigh. "I don't know, (Y/N). I really do lead a charmed life. I love the band and going on tours and all that, and yes, I like having money and all the perks. But sometimes I wish my life had a little more depth."

I scooted an inch closer to show I was listening, and he continued:

"The other day, someone asked how I was. I would have said I was doing great regardless of the real answer, but he responded to his own question and said 'never-mind, you're Richie Sambora; you're doing great' as if who I am is what tells the stories. I wish people would stop seeing what they want and realize I'm a person, not just the guy with the guitar."

"Aw, Richie," I put a hand on his arm, "I'm sure that was just a joke... No one sees you as not having feelings..."

"I don't know. More than anything I'm scared. What if I mess up? What if something happens and Bon Jovi is disbanded? What if I get kicked out of the band? What do I do then? This is my entire life-- without the guys I've got next to nothing. And on the subject of money, I'd be kind of screwed, seeing as I'm the one providing for my parents at the moment. I don't know, I just wish my life ran deeper than this."

"Listen," I said, rubbing my hand up and down his back in comfort, "your life has so much more to it than just the celebrity side. Your parents love you so much, Richie, and I'm sure they don't entirely depend on you. And not that it would, but if something happened with the band, well, you're smart and hardworking. You'd bounce right back."

He scoffed and gave a little expression of disgust mixed with contempt aimed at himself.

"No, really. Anyway, nothing is going to go wrong with the band. You're really talented, and the guys all love you. And you can always talk to me. I'm not the best at comforting people, but I can... try... to help..." I was running out of things to say.

He gave me a small grin. "Thanks, (Y/N). I appreciate that."

"You're welcome. Now come on, let's go inside."

A while later, after the band had rehearsed and fooled around for a while, everyone decided to watch a movie and chill for a while. I was once again tasked with fetching Richie since he'd disappeared when the band finished playing.

I headed up to the roof again, but when I got close enough, the sound of a guitar and singing stopped me. I'd always thought Richie had a great singing voice, but I didn't know he could sound like this... He sang beautifully.

"And nothing in this world could ever change the way I feel about you... You can take me through the center of the dark..."

I decided to stop listening, in case what he was playing was something he didn't want me to hear. It didn't sound familiar, so he must've been making it up on the spot.

I heaved myself onto the roof, saying his name, but he kept singing and playing.

"Through the good and the bad, you've been there... You've helped me to see clearly... And I... will always..."

He opened his eyes and looked directly at me. "...love you."

"Richie... That was beautiful." I went and sat next to him again.

He didn't say anything. He turned and looked at me, studying my face for a few seconds. Then he set his guitar down next to him and sat up a little straighter.

"(Y/N)," he said, exhaling heavily through his nose, "I have to thank you. You helped me a ton earlier, and you also helped me clear up any confusion I may have had over a certain subject."

"Which is?"

Richie stared at me for a moment again, then leaned over a little. He put a hand behind my neck and pulled me a little closer, and before I could fully register what was happening, he was kissing me. His hand brushed against my jaw and moved to caress my cheek, and I knew in that moment the depth of my feelings for him.

He pulled back. "That."

"You..." I began, but trailed off.

"Love you. I love you, (Y/N)."

I looked into his chestnut eyes and took a deep breath. "I love you too, Richie."

He smiled. I grabbed his head and pulled it down to kiss the top of it. He laughed a little and kissed me again before we went inside to join the others.