As soon as Ginny reached the banquet hall, she regretted the way she had talked to Davy. She had had no right to fly off the handle the way she did. Sure she was a big fan of the Monkees. Being a fan gave her no right to think that their personal lives were any of her business. Here she had finally had an opportunity to sit down and talk with one of them, explaining her concerns and wanting to help. Instead she blows her top and ruins everything.
"Well, all is not lost." she said to herself. "There's still three others."
While trying to decide who to try next, a voice interrupted her thoughts.
"Talkin' to yourself?"
Ginny jumped and looked up on the stage.
"Oh, Mike! I forgot you were there. I'm sorry I've not been around much. I've just been....preparing...last minute....details."
"Don't worry about it. Nice set up you guys have here." Mike said as he looked around the room. He looked down and noticed Ginny still seem distracted. "Something wrong?""I'll say!" she sighed.
"Let's hear it." he said.
Mike was actually the last person she wanted to try to talk this out with. Though he seemed nice, she knew about his temper and she didn't want to be on the receiving end of it. Though after her own temper tantrum just a few moments ago, it would seem she had no room to talk.
"Well...you've probably heard this before." she said.
"I'll let you know if I have." he said.
She opened her mouth, then quickly shut it, smiled and shrugged.
"Nevermind." she said. "I'm making myself a personal crusader of something that can never be."
She started walking away when he called out to her, unhooked his guitar and walked off the stage.
"Don't make such a dramatic exit!" he said.
Ginny laughed.
"I'm sorry!" she said. "I'm sort of an amateur writer, but ever since I took it up, I tend to talk like I'm Edgar Allen Poe. I'll try to stop. Plain English?"
"Please!" he grinned. "Southern, if you can."
"I'm fluent in Southern American. That's where I'm from." she said."Oh really?" he asked, and they walked to the buffet table discussing their home states.
"So, what's this personal crusade of yours?" he asked.
"Well, I suppose it's every Monkees fans hopes and dreams." she said. "To see you four back together."
"Oh!" he said, looking down at his plate. "Well I'm not much for touring anymore. The only reason I came here was for..."
"Oh, I don't care about another tour!" she said.
"You don't?" he asked, looking confused.
"Naw!" she shrugged. "Don't get me wrong. I'd absolutly love to see your four play together. That would be groo...uh...great!" She cleared her throat and continued. "I just want to see you four become friends."
He snorted and looked back down at his plate.
"At least good aquaintances?" she asked. He looked at her.
"Shake hands and paste on a smile?" she tried.
"Ginny, we're not bitter enemies." he said. "Just...bitter."
She tried the same reasoning she had used with Davy. After all, one hard-head was the same as another.
"Bet you don't even remember what you're fighting about." she said.
"How can I? Too many issues we're fighting about. Why do you think I don't even bother touring anymore?" he asked.
"I thought it was because you're tired." she said.
"Well, it's not like I'm an old man or something." he said. "It just always ends up the same way: a fight. I don't need that."
"I guess I can understand that." she said. "Ever think of doing something about all the fighting?"
"Why? I just leave them to fight it out. I have nothing to do with it anymore." Mike said. "I know a lot of people think I don't care about the Monkees anymore, but that's not true. Just...tired of....trying to get along with the other three."
"Well what seems to be the problem?" she asked.
"Well...that...that little one...." he started.
"The little one has a name, Michael!" she said.
"Whatever!" he shrugged. "Then Micky, I mean...talk about not taking music seriously!""He's a fine musician!" Ginny defended.
"Then there's Pete! Thinks he always knows a better way for the songs."
"He does know a lot about music." she said.
"Oh sure! Take sides!" Mike said, getting up and leaving the dining room.
Ginny realized this was turning out the same as her conversation with Davy. Was there something in the way she spoke that just automatically made people angry?
As she left the banquet hall and went to the back room, she saw Davy getting ready to leave.
"Hey, Davy!" she said.
"Hey!" he replied. "I'm going to the hotel. I'll be back tomorrow morning."
"All right!" she said. "I want to apologize about the way I spoke earlier. As you can see, I have a wee bit of a temper."
He smiled. "I noticed." he said.
"I don't lose it often! So when I do lose it, I just..." she shrugged. "I'm sorry."
"That's ok." he said. "You take your temper, multiply it three times, then you've got my temper."
"Now you see? Why can't you say that to the guys?" she asked.
Davy sighed and rolled his eyes.
"Good night, Ginny." he said, kissing her on the cheek.
"Good night!" she said, offering a sheepish smile.