#Demri model

[lolly-in-a-strange-land]

♡One shot♡

"You wanna get out of here?"

Astrid glanced up from her book. Sean was standing above her, staring down at her. His dark eyes were an odd mix of displeased and awkward. She looked around the lounge, watching their friends talk and drink.

Across the way Layne and his girlfriend, Demri, were locked in a jovial conversation, Mike was talking to a group of mutual friends. Astrid could hear the corny jokes from here. Jerry had slunk away somewhere with the girl he'd bought along. A groupie from the show that night.

Demri and Astrid had decorated the lounge earlier. Red heart balloons were dotted around, alongside red streamers. Valentine's Day had come around again and Astrid had found herself single for it. She'd always been single though.

The only man for her was the man in front of her. Growing up with Sean had never been boring. His extroverted goofiness had complimented her awkward geekiness. Their parents had been convinced the two would wind up together. Wishful thinking on the part of his mom and her mom as both had been friends since middle school.

"What happened to Zara?" Astrid asked.

It hurt to ask to be honest. Sean had bought Zara along to the show, introducing her and making Astrid feel even worse about her own feelings. On a scale of 1 to 10, how much did it hurt to see the man you liked with another woman? It was like someone had reached into her chest and pulled out her heart, holding it, still beating and raw in front of her.

"She fucked off." Sean said, sounding less than thrilled.

Of course he wasn't happy. He'd probably been hoping for something more, and Astrid could relate to that hope. She was always hoping for something more. She stuffed her book, Cleopatra and Frankenstein into her bag. It was a strange book about a group of unlikable people living in New York. It made her own problems seem mundane by comparison.

"Where did you want to go?" Astrid asked, softly.

"Anywhere but here." Sean said, sighing.

Astrid got up and looked up at him, offering a shy smile. She'd tried not to allow the jealousy to show earlier when she watched him flirt with Zara. The pain was jarring and she'd gone to the bathroom, closing the merch table briefly so she could cry in a stall alone.

"I'm down for an adventure." Astrid said.

He offered a half smile. It was his smile that she liked especially when he smiled fully, showing dimples. He was a beautiful man; tall with a cascade of long, dark hair, arms that gave good hugs, and the most intense dark eyes she'd ever seen. He could be a model and age had improved him massively. He was the man she'd always waited for, turning down the small amount of men that had asked her out. And it was a small number.

"C'mon then, short stack." He said.

She followed him outside to his motorbike. Astrid never liked to think about how many women had been on the back of it. She liked to pretend she was the only one with that privilege. He turned, handing her a helmet, which she took.

His hands, larger than hers and calloused, brushed against her hands. She smiled and looked up at him. He was staring down at her, intently. He lowered his hands and the moment was over.

Astrid slotted the helmet on and wriggled onto the back of the bike, struggling due to her height. Sean watched her and the smile became a smirk.

"Need a step ladder, short stack?" He asked, teasingly.

"I'll have you know I'm not that short." She insisted, finally situating herself.

"Sure, you're not. 5 foot nothing." He chuckled.

"5 foot 1. You're just a tall freak of nature. Go live with the other trees." Astrid giggled.

Sean laughed at that and climbed onto the bike, making it look effortless. Astrid slid closer and wrapped her arms around his waist. She could close her eyes and enjoy the moment of getting to hold him. He put his helmet on and gripped the handlebars, starting the engine. The bike roared to life, engine rolling over itself as it did.

He maneuvered the bike towards the road once the foot stand was up and looked both ways before weaving up the road, the bike tilting as it took the corner.

They drove for a while and Astrid opened her eyes as the streets of Seattle drifted by in a blur of strange lights and colors. Everything blended together. Sean drove them to Kerry Park and finally parked up, killing the engine.

He climbed off, helping Astrid off too. She removed the helmet and the breeze whipped her hair. They walked along the pathway weaving through the park towards a fence. The city spanned out before them, lights from buildings twinkling.

Inside Astrid's bag was the Valentine's card for Sean. It felt like she had a live snake in there, alive and writhing. They sat down on a bench. She glanced at him. He was staring at the view, dark gaze taking in the city lights.

"So, Zara?" Astrid asked.

What had happened? Had Zara just had to leave early? Would he be seeing her again? A miserable, bitter part of her hoped not, but the kind part won out. She just wanted him to be happy even if it wasn't with her.

"She left, said she didn't like me like that," He said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Said she'd only come to see Jerry, 'cept he got with that groupie."

Astrid shifted and considered giving him the card. Best case scenario he'd be so flattered he'd give her a pity date. Worst case scenario, he'd laugh or look disgusted. The city was below them and the night was perfect. She dug into her bag and pulled out the pink envelope, holding it out to him. He looked surprised.

"Got me a card, short stack." He said, and took it.

"Mmhmm." Astrid said. What else could she say now that she'd taken the leap.

He opened it, still smiling. The card in question was from a small business she'd found on Etsy. Two entwined hands were inked on the front with the words, 'Forever is not long enough with you.' His brow furrowed as he looked at the card. He opened it and she could see her handwriting from here.

'To Sean, be my forever valentine, yours always, Astrid.'

There was a moment where he was just staring at the card and her handwriting. He wasn't saying anything and Astrid could feel the panic setting in. What had she done? She'd risked a friendship, a friendship she'd had since she was a child. Mistakes had been made. She looked at her hands in her lap, they were shaking.

"Anyways, I hope you like the card. It's sort of a funny thing. I really liked the picture on it. And it's from a small business. Gotta support those." Astrid said. She was rambling and she knew it. Her voice sounded small even to her own ears.

Sean was still looking at the card and then he glanced at her, dark eyes analysing her.

"Do you mean it, Astrid?" He asked.

He only called her Astrid when he was being serious. Short stack was the nickname he'd given her because he'd always been taller than her.

"Yeah," She admitted. "But I will accept whatever answer you give me. I just want you to be happy."

"God, I'm a fucking dumbass," He said at last, laughing ruefully. "It feels like I should have noticed."

"I didn't want you to know because I was scared you'd reject me." Astrid said.

"You didn't date any other guys, short stack? Were you waiting for me to notice?" He asked.

"I was trying to build up the courage, but I couldn't until tonight." She replied.

"And I bought Zara," Sean said, sighing. "Shit, short stack. I'm so fucking sorry. I can't imagine how much that must have smarted."

"Your happiness means more to me than my feelings." Astrid said.

"Yours means more to me," He murmured. "You're the only woman I'd let on the back of my bike."

"Really?" She asked.

"Yeah, Zara met me at the venue tonight. Same with all the others," He said. "Can't have my favourite hobbit tiring out her little feet."

"Quit mocking my height." She giggled.

"I mock your height because I like how small you are, Astrid." He said.

"So, all the times you've playfully made fun of me?" She said.

"Just me expressing how much I like you. You looked beautiful when we went prom together," He said, then shifted closer. "Hell, you look beautiful all the time. Not sure why you're hangin' out with me."

"You're the cutest tree I know." Astrid giggled.

"The answer is yes by the way," Sean said, and she looked up at him. "To being your Valentine."

She blushed and smiled now, peeking at him again. She didn't know what to do now. They were now no longer friends but not quite a couple. He shifted closer again until he was right next to her. Astrid lifted her head and his large hand caught her face, thumb brushing her cheek.

His mouth slanted against hers and she sighed into the kiss. Every nerve ending came alive as his lips moved against hers, coaxing her to respond.

She responded tentatively, letting him lead the kiss. His other hand gripped her hip through her t-shirt, guiding her onto his lap. Close wasn't close enough. She surrendered to it and clumsily straddled him, pulling away from the kiss to blush again.

"There's my girl." He murmured, dragging her closer and kissing her neck.

Astrid bit her lip and whined as he nipped the skin. The bites were playful, teeth chafing against her pulse point and making her knees weak. He bit a little harder, marking her. His hands were on her hips again, coaxing her to grind against him.

She could feel him now just below the layer of denim. He was big, proportionate to his height and his hips shifted, grinding against her. He grunted against her neck, enjoying the sensation. Astrid gasped and a soft moan escaped her lips.

Lips found hers again and it had turned into a make out session, fuelled by pent up desire and feelings that were finally requited. She squeaked when his hand slid under her blue skirt, grabbing a handful of her behind.

His other hand untucked her t-shirt, sliding under the material and copping a feel of her breasts. Heat coursed through Astrid and she moaned into the kiss. He brushed his thumb over the bra cup, causing her nipple to pebble under her bra. Their lips parted and his gaze was dark and hungry.

"Fuck, Astrid. I am so close to fucking you on a park bench." Sean said, voice hoarse.

"We'll get arrested." She giggled.

"I'd still fuck you in a holding cell." He said.

"Not in front of the officers." She said.

"Give 'em a show." He laughed.

"Would you like to go back to mine and cuddle?" She asked.

"Yeah, let's spend our first valentine's watching films together." He said.

"And we'll kiss again?" She asked, shyly.

"I would go the end of the world and back to kiss you again, short stack." He replied.

She smiled and shifted off his lap. They walked back to his bike, hand in hand. This time he kissed her again before she put the helmet back on. When she was on the bike with her arms around his waist, he reached down and gently touched her hands before starting the engine. A gentle reminder that something had changed between them.

[vivianbernadetteaurora]

Girlfriend of grunge in the 90s

When I think of the 90s, I’ve said before in the previous place, it really gives me Pisces vibes, but obviously, there are some heavy Capricorn placements like Neptune and Uranus in the early 90s and late 80s 80s, which gave it that dark edge.

These are all the girlfriends of grunge who I think are important, to mention in this story. First of all, we have Courtney Love; she is obviously the most known one out of all of these in this one; she was known for being an outspoken, kind of feminist, kind of misogynist, all rolled into one.

Boy, has she been through the wringer, being called the Nancy Spudgen, a hole of Nirvana, which is very low? Especially considering that Nancy was dead and she went through a lot of sexism and the press. It was probably because Courtney molded herself around. I do have a lot more compassion for Nancy for what she’s been through because Courtney seems a lot more., vindictive with what she does and how she betrays herself, Whatever I’ve seen about Nancy she seems less in control of her behavior but that’s okay sometimes if personality disorders in Courtney’s case

Sometimes compulsive liars get addicted to their own lies and end up saying things that aren’t true, Kat Bjelland  said 70% of what Courtney said is the truth, work out which bits are not?

But Courtney has been a pioneer in this area of, making music for girls and teenagers, and fully grown women like myself in my 30s, she makes you feel powerful, she makes you feel like you could do anything when you listen to one of her songs, and dressing up with her makes you feel even more powerful, there would be no grunge is aesthetic or kinder whore without these two women. have a lot of people who can’t stand Courtney love some of them are a lot of them are women as well they think she’s too egotistical honestly I think they’re just a bit jealous no I don’t think they will jealous. I think people are just intimidated.

Then you have our alternative Winona, who has been popular with the boy band members, alternative and rock boy bands not pop, members, I think she even went out with that guy from County, Monica, and Rachel from friends, I know Courtney and Jennifer, haha I just realized that could’ve been Jennifer Finch and Courtney, love.

Yeah, she’s been around, she’s gone even when she shoplifted and had to go, she was still soft-spoken, who was obviously taking advantage of Johnny Depp from such a young age that it affected her for the rest of her adult life, she said her first everything . Which put a huge power in balance in the relationship. He moved onto Kate Moss., Winona Ryder you’re still that girl forever, she is like the actress alternative grunge girl, the music version, but in very different as, kind of like light feminine and dark feminine.

And you have demri , Lane Staleys model girlfriend, who he was with for many years since the 80s on and off,, they had a very up-and-down relationship, caused by drug and alcohol dependency, but you could tell that they really love each other they weren’t like where they were like a publicity machine, not that you can even call them but they were back in the day not that you know, kept his private life private, even people who went to school with him didn’t know that it was him graduated with because he was quiet and he kept a different last name, but absolutely stunning as you can see from my pictures very similar to Kristen pfaff , I’m sorry Hole fans ,you do not give enough credit for, anyway, Demri , and layne up breaking up, which people say he wasn’t the same after, she died in 1996, bacteria from the needle, to her heart and affected her a really bad way and got into an infection . he evidently died, a few years after cut to the same day he wasn’t found until his body was not in a good way. Let’s put it that., I hope they’re together in heaven happy and in love

Kristen Pfaff ,of Hole her death was extremely suspicious, and I know Nirvana fans believe this, not Courtney fans but I am on the fence with this. I find Courtney really appealing and really gracious and appealing. That’s the only way I can put it just very charismatic and that’s what her dad was like to, Kristen, given a hot shot, she’d got clean after Kurt Cobain died, pages in her diary were missing from that week. which is also extremely strange her family did not like Courtney and they find the whole thing suspiciousl brother was with her a lot of the time during those days. she was with a bang called Janet Joe and she got back with them. She was only meant to be touring bassist , she stayed a bit longer, was with Eric Allanson only because he was the only guy there at the time and I, advantage if you see pictures of her before she moves to Seattle, Courtney needs to give her bags with syringes and bags of heroin , she was professionally trained in, you can master the piano said that you can master anything it’s genius level music. sad that she died and the fans don’t give her credit “live through this “ is one of the best albums ever, this is my mix of the main grunge girls of the 90s and their impact and how talented they were in all different ways.



[modelartist-demri]

Grateful despite everything

I have uploaded at VEF some more Demri uncensored photos that Cliff Feulner took of her and were published in the 1990s at Penthouse magazine, both in the US and internationally. I can send you the link if you request it in a private direct message but I wanr you know that I just login here twice a month.

It's not all of them (yet). Hopefully one day we will be able to live in a free world and share content without being censored, we are in the 21st century. Women can love women, Demri was isexual, and these photos are just posed photos, not real s*x between them.

I hope, despite all the hate and jealousy and secrecy, next year is a better year for the Demri community online. We should support each other, instead of fighting one another or claiming knowing all the facts and all this drama.

I'll see all of you on my blogspot blog for Demri and just reblogging here new content.

[randompics3]

[randompics3]

New pic of Demri and Layne that i found and restored❤ @modelartist-demri @demriparrottonly @demri-parrott-staley-blog @demriparrot

[modelartist-demri]

Hello everyone and please follow/subscribe to my new Demri Parrott blog on blogspot. I move there because of censorship but I am not going to delete this. This will be kept as an archive site and occasionally I'm going to reblog content, but my focus will be the blogspot blog.

The blog on blogspot will be updated twice a month, every 1st and 15th of each month.

Thank you very much and enjoy!

*I want to express my gratitude towards Little Queenies and Memories of Demri for everything, as well as all my lovely followers and everyone who contacted me*

[randompics3]

restored pics of Demri Parrott and Pony Maurice

[modelartist-demri]

2 posts today on my blog!

[aboysbestfriendishismum]

CHAPTER 60 - JUKEBOXES, CORN AND BRACES

In the previous chapter: Angie and Grace visit the set of Singles and meet Cameron Crowe. Grace would want to meet and talk to the actors but Angie's too shy and does everything to avoid them, especially Matt Dillon. The director offers her a small part in the movie and Angie is shocked. When she hears Tim Burton is supposed to make an appearance in the same scene as her, she sneaks away from the set. Eddie and Angie meet up the same night outside her apartment building to have a cigarette together and talk a little bit, a quick "date" in between their obligations. They flirt a little and Eddie not so subtly hints at the fact that he misses her a lot, also physically. Angie wonders how will they do once Eddie eill be out touring with the band after the record release and will be away for weeks and months. Vedder reveals his solution to the problem. In the meantime, Jerry wants to spend a nice uneventful night at home but his plans are shattered by Layne and Demri, who set him up in a blind date with one of the girl's coworkers.

Seattle is not Los Angeles and First Avenue is certainly not the Sunset Strip, but walking this street that almost entirely crosses the city from north to south is the best choice if you want to enter the heart of the Emerald City. And if you want to meet a musician or an artist of any kind, the area between First Avenue and Pike Street, before the market, or the border area between Belltown and Downtown, are the ones to keep an eye on. Not because of the live music venues, which certainly are not lacking, but because here you can find the ideal combination of goods and services particularly sought after by the just mentioned category: sex shops, pawnshops, second-hand shops, record shops, drug dealers and, above all, places to eat and drink super cheap. Whether they're signed to a major label or not, the average musician here is perpetually broke anyway and couldn't survive without places where they could get a decent meal for a few dollars. Many wonder why and how this fervent music scene developed in Seattle, bringing into discussion college radios, fanzines, independent labels on the one hand, isolation, cold, rain and not having shit to do but staying at home and listening to or making music on the other. In my opinion, however, there would be no Seattle sound without the cafes, diners and bars that feed and quench the thirst of the broke artists who have lived here forever or moved there to be part of the scene. 

The Frontier Room is one of those holy places. It opens at six in the morning it could very well knock you out by half past seven. Drinks are cheap here and the bartenders are known for having a heavy hand. I'm at the bar with Layne, for a second round after the first round of introductions, small talk, and booze with Demri and Heather. I must say that girl is not bad, she is not even what I expected. I don't know why, but from the name, I pictured her as a sort of sex bomb all boobs and perm... not that I have anything against boobs or perms, God forbid! And I don't even mean that she's ugly, on the contrary. She is a beautiful girl, tall and thin with legs fir miles, blue eyes and dark hair, she could easily be a model and she would kill it, even walking the catwalk with the white sweater and the jeans she's wearing now. She also seems likeable and down to earth. In short, she would be my type. If I gave a damn. Layne walks off with gin and tonic for him and Dem, while I watch the bartender mix the two whiskey and coke for Heather and I at the same time. He basically fills whiskey glasses half full, then grabs the coke, and as he turns to talk to another guy, he doesn't notice that most of the drink he pours misses the target and ends up soaking the rag over the counter. When he finishes the exchange, he notices that the glasses are still just short of half empty so he tosses in some more whiskey. This is the secret of the Seattle sound: the places that give you more whiskey than coke, I hope live forever. 

I grab my glasses and make my way over to my friends' table when I spot a smooching going on right between Layne and Demri. Nothing exaggerated, but enough to make me take a small U-turn in search of a diversion, which materializes right in front of me in the form of a jukebox. I set the glasses down on the machine and flip through the titles to waste some time, sorry Heather! I skip a lot of country music, not because I don't like it, but because I'm not in the right mood. Garth Brooks, Bob Seeger, there's a bit of classic rock, but I keep scrolling, partly because I want to be sure to find separated lips when I come back, partly because nothing particularly strikes me. Eagles? Ugh... Scorpions. WAIT. I stop there, for a double reason. Number one: I love this band. Number two: Angie hates this band. I don't think I've ever heard her say a bad word towards anyone other than the Scorpions, Bon Jovi and…um, well, yours truly. There is Love at first sight, easy, there's Animal Magnetism, which is my favorite album, there's also Crazy world, the latest, a good work, but certainly the most commercial. And I totally fall for that right now.

 

Wise man said just walk this way

To the dawn of the light...

 

Kenny Rogers finishes just as I get to the table with the drinks, Send me an angel begins and my three evening companions moan almost simultaneously. And they're not the only ones because I can almost hear a single moan run through all the people in the bar one after another as they listen to the ballad and reflect on the meaning of their lives. A little too depressing maybe, huh? The evening seems suddenly quieter and colder and perhaps not even the supercharged whiskey and coke is strong enough for this song. I think I've officially ruined everyone's night, at least until Heather gets up, at which point I think I've mostly ruined hers. And Dem and Layne's too. After all, they only want me to socialize like a normal person and I don't think they're asking too much but why has everything gotten so hard all of a sudden? Anyway, the girl doesn't pull up her jacket and bag to just up and leave with an excuse as I thought. She just takes a couple of coins from her pocket, winks at me and with a few strides reaches the jukebox. With the same grin on her face she scrolls through the titles, inserts her quarters, presses the buttons and returns to the table, while my song fades, leaving the bar in almost total and surreal silence. Heather doesn't sit down, but she looks at us, looks around and addresses the whole place judt as Rudolph Schenker starts playing some grittier chords.

“His fingers just slipped and hit the wrong button, that's all!” Heather raises her arms and then points her gaze at me, takes the glass and takes a nice sip of basically plain pure whiskey and starts singing, here, in the middle of the bar, as if nothing had happened. This surprises me, but what surprises me most is that I sing along.

 

I look in your eyes, I really think you're fooling me

You're pretty and nice, it doesn't matter don't you see

 

We sing Falling in love by the Scorpions in a duet, but only until the first chorus, because from there on it becomes a choir, first of our table, then of the whole bar. My memory could easily fail me, but I think it's the first time I've helped start a bar sing-a-long. It's easy to have the crowd sing at your concerts, but it's much more difficult to wake up a group of drunks in an anonymous place on a cold and humid evening in March. Sometimes a wrong night just needs the right fingers.

 

“I love that album,” I comment with Heather nodding, long after the chorus ends.

"It's the breakthrough disc." she says, just before Dem and Layne leave with the excuse of cigarettes "My favorite song is The Zoo , but that was more catchy"

“Hehe yeah, better for bar karaoke. Anyway The Zoo is a masterpiece, you're the first girl I've met who knows the Scorpions so well” leaving out Angie who, just because she knew them well, vomited just hearing their mention, I really don't remember any fan in particular. Well, aside from her , but she wasn't that badass.

“Oh man, Jerry, I'm sorry” Heather immediately becomes serious and places her hand on mine, which rests next to the ashtray after having just put out a cigarette.

"Eheheh well, no big deal. I mean good musical tastes are welcome, but they are not everything. I am pleased when I find someone who shares my interests, but it is not fundamental". I mean, music is my life, but I stopped selecting friends based on musical tastes in 1980, more or less.

“No, I meant, I'm sorry…but I'm not going to sleep with you.” She shakes her head and looks at me contritely, as if offering me condolences.

"What?"

"I'm not sleeping with you, don't get any strange ideas"

"Oh. Okay. But what does it have to do with it?”

“I wanted to be honest with you before you started hitting on me But I couldn't say anything before, in front of Demri, she cared so much about this date”

“Who says I wanted to hit on you?”

“You're already doing it… You're the first girl I've met who loves Scorpions, uh! After this sort of imitation she pushes my hand away from hers giggling and finishes her drink.

“So, I understand that it may sound like a pickup line and I admit that I have used something like this in the past, but I swear that in this case the intention was absolutely not that”

"Come on! Look, you don't have to pretend with me, it's normal to expect something from a blind date, I don't blame you" Heather reaches out for my pack of cigarettes without asking, takes one and lights it with my lighter.

“Of course it's normal, but normality doesn't really belong to me lately. I can assure you it was a simple remark, I was not hitting on you. To tell you the truth, since it's the moment of truth, I didn't even want to come tonight."

"Oh really?"

“I was this close to standing you up”

“This reminds me of the fox saying that the grapes were sour…” Heather winks and blows smoke in my face.

“Hahaha I know what it looks like, but it's not like that. I would certainly make a better impression if I went along with your story, but no. I'm much more pathetic than that” I don't know why, maybe it's because deep down I don't know her, she's a stranger, and it's easier to be honest with strangers; it may also be because of the vibes I get from her but to me telling the truth seems the easiest thing in the world right now, sitting at this table with Heather.

"Pathetic? What do you mean?"

"That until a few months ago I would not only have hit on you, but I would have also succeeded and by now we'd already be driving towards my house"

“Hahaha even if I told you that I had no intention of putting out?”

"Of course and I would have done it in such a subtle way as to make you believe it was you who changed your mind, indeed, I would have convinced you that I wasn't even thinking about it either and that everything was happening totally by chance"

“That is exactly…what are you doing now? Or am I wrong?" she smiles at me curious and even though she thinks she has caught me, she doesn't seem irritated. Is it because she believes me? Is it because she plays along? I don't know.

"No no, now I'm just baring my soul to you, I'm not using tactics, I swear"

“So what has happened lately that has changed you so drastically?” here is the fateful question. I take a deep breath and spit it out.

“I fell in love with a girl, broke her heart, got dumped and haven't been close to another female since then, which would be three months ago, more or less”

"Oh. Well, you made a great recap”

“I went straight to the point, at least with words I'm still able to do it” what is it, have I started walking the path of self-irony? Well it sort of works, I laugh and she giggles with me.

“You know, your story is very similar to mine. Well, I mean, more or less. I fell in love too, I've been dumped for a while and I still haven't recovered”

"I'm sorry"

“But I'm the one whose heart was broken. Well, he dumped me for someone else”

“I understand what you're going through, I really do. It's not a pickup strategy!” I repeat trying to make her laugh again.

“I killed the mood, didn't I? Like you did before with that fucking song!"

“Nah, I totally beat you, sorry! And I win the award for saddest story too, because I'm in such a bad place that my friends introduce me to girls hoping to cheer me up and instead I end up driving them away by talking about my ex"

“Haha and what about me? What do you think I'm here for tonight? Demri is sick of seeing me cry on cigarette breaks day in and day out. And she's not the only one. All my friends push me to get to know new guys, but they don't understand that it's much worse this way!”

"Exactly! I don't know if it's the same for you, but... it's hard to explain. When you have to forget someone, the best solution would be to avoid everything that makes you think of that someone, right? Well, how can't they see that a date is the first thing that makes me think of my ex because..."

“Because that's the thing you used to do with her! Same thing for me, I agree. You date a guy and you come up with the same situations and…”

“And make comparisons!”

"Of course, how the fuck can you not make them!"

“Do you know why I chose the Scorpions on the jukebox?”

“Cause you have memories of her with that song?”

“Because she can't stand that band, she hates them!”

“Hahaha”

“I've been scrolling through all the titles on that fucking jukebox for a while and there wasn't a name that made me feel something. And music is my life, mind you. Then my eyes landed on that name and... byeeee"

"And then, I even told you that I like them"

"Right! Tell me, how could this arranged date make me forget Angie, it can't, it's the opposite"

"Five minutes after you arrived, I had already made a mental comparison between the shades of blond of your hair and those of Rob, as well as your heights and way of laughing"

"We're both so fucked up, we need to make a toast!" I exclaim, as I pour some of the content of my glass into hers, then go back to being serious for a moment "You're not squeamish, are you?"

"Hahaha no, nit at all! Here's to the broken and pathetic hearts!"

"Cheers" our glasses touch each other and we drink them all down in one.

“You're nice, if you weren't brokenhearted I would have hooked up with you. You're cute too"

"Really?"

“Yeah, tall, long hair, musician… you're pretty much my type”

“Wow, thanks, I'm flattered”

“And at least you understand me. Whereas I'm going to have to go on who knows how many more blind dates."

“Well, maybe sooner or later you will find someone you'll be so attracted to that you will even forget your ex's name”

"Eheh after what we said to each other, you are not credible anymore, I'm sorry"

“Well, just tell your friends that you don't want to date anyone right now”

“Do you think I didn't? Like it's a prerogative to have someone, I mean, what's wrong with being single?”

“Single and happy!”

“Besides, sex is overrated”

"Well..."

“Yeah, it's cool, I'm not saying it isn't, but it's not like I miss it that much. It's not the thing I miss the most about Rob, so that's proof that it's not fundamental."

“In fact, it's not like I'm struggling either. And I wasn't one to spare himself, on the contrary..."

“I bet your not sparing yourself has to do with how you broke your ex's heart, right? I'm not judging you, huh! We all make mistakes, we are human"

“What can I say, you hit the mark. But now the girls who go around in the backstage of our concerts... I don't even look at them, I don't see them, I don't want to "

“LOOK, I HAD AN IDEA!” Heather slaps her palm hard on the table, causing even the guys sitting at the table next to her to turn towards us.

"What an idea?"

“We are in the same situation and we have the same problem. Why can't we be each other's problem solvers?"

"Uh?"

“It's just occurred to me right now, maybe it's bullshit, but I think it would work”

"Do you want to explain yourself better?"

“So, Demri and Layne will be back at the table soon, they'll see there's no chemistry between us, they'll see us leaving without even exchanging numbers, and what will they do next time?”

“They'll torment us asking why it didn't work?”

“No, that what they will do tonight, immediately. But what will they do next time?”

“What will they do?”

“They'll introduce us to someone else! And on and on and it will never end!”

“I'm about to go on tour with the boys, they'll ask me to do the fourth every time they pick up someone with a friend"

“And Dem? She knows literally everyone in Seattle, do you have any idea how many tall, long-haired musicians will be sitting where you are right now?”

“And what would your solution be?”

“Put on some chemistry”

"That is?"

“Let's not tell them it didn't work” Heather shrugs as if she's telling me the most obvious thing in the world.

"Do you want them to believe we've clicked?"

"We'll make them believe we like each other, we can exchange some effusions..."

“Exchange what?”

“Just for show! We can also exchange numbers. You're going on tour soon, aren't you? At most you call me once or twice, just to make the game more believable for my roommate too. Your friends will see that you're into me and you're doing ok and they won't dare pushing other girls to you at the risk of screwing you up again"

"And your girlfriends will quit arranging blind dates"

“It's a win win for both"

“Mmm”

“I know the fake boyfriend archetype is overused and may sound like a John Hughes rom-com cliché, but I assure you I have no ulterior motives. And it would be for a good cause: our sanity” Heather looks at me hopefully. All in all she's not talking bullshit and, fake or not, her eyes are hard to say no to.

“It's so absurd that it could work”

"WHAT?" I'm so focused on Heather's evil plan that I don't notice our friends returning, or Demri coming over to scream in my ear.

“What, what?” I ask playing dumb.

“What could work?” she repeats, as she sits down with her boyfriend.

"Us! We found out that we are very different, but also have so much in common, right Jerry?” Heather winks at me and moves the chair a little closer.

"True! You were right to drag me here, man, you know?” I reach around my new accomplice's shoulders as Layne looks at me in amazement.

"Seriously? Well…” but not without suspicion.

 

I'm not getting into another mess, am I?

 

************************************************** *****************************************

 

"Your first kiss? When did it happen? With whom? Tell me..."

Grace and I are in the midst of our almost daily post-coital Random Questions session to get to know each other better, hosted as always on the couch in her apartment. Grace's couch is the official home for pretty much everything we do, whether it's sex, post-sex, no sex, listening to records, eating, watching tv, looking at aquariums, or hanging out. Oh and I also sleep on it, because Grace's bed is still offlimits. Because the speech I made to her the other night was perfect and I know my words hit the mark, but in the meantime, making love without her boots, let alone sleeping together, it's still not an option. And so here we are, me in my underwear, she wearing my T-shirt and her ever-present boots, both on the sofa which has now taken on the shape of our bodies, especially mine, eating toasted cashew nuts and asking questions to get to know each other, when in reality we'd just need to undress completely and go to her room to really get closer. Anyway, intimacy is made up of many things and it takes a lot of time to build it. I have patience, it's just that I have the bad habit of always turning around and keeping an eye on the easiest route, while I trudge along the most impervious path, unanimously considered the most effective.

“It happened on sixth grade, with a redhead I didn't like,” I recall as the scepter of power, aka the bowl of cashews, passes from Grace's hands to mine.

"I don't know why, but I expected such an answer. Was she crazy too?"

"Mmm no, Jane was normal, as normal as an eleven-year-old can be. She was nice, okay, but not someone I intended to kiss"

"And how did it go?"

"We were walking home from school, we lived on the same street. We got off the school bus and walked together, her house was before mine, when we got there and I was saying goodbye, she took her chance"

"Girls who take the initiative are a recurring element in your life, have you noticed that?" Grace reaches into the bowl and takes a hefty handful.

"Yes. But not with you, I kissed you" let's give Caesar what belongs to Caesar.

"Okay, and all the work to get to the kiss? What about that? I did it all man!" okay, always dotting the i's.

"Details"

"Anyway, Jane tried to kiss you and you?"

"I panicked, of course"

"Obviously"

"And as her lips were getting dangerously close..."

"You ran away?"

"No, I told her the first thing that came to my mind"

"That is?"

"That I'd just threw up"

"Ahahahaha what???" the sofa shakes a little under us as she laughs. 

"I told you, it was the first thing that came to my mind! And as I tried to explain to her that it must have been the meatloaf from the cafeteria and that I had thrown it up in the school toilet before going out, she threw me off"

"Did she vomit too?"

"No he said It's okay , he shrugged and kissed me anyway! Can you believe that?"

"Wow she must have liked you so much"

"So she wasn't quite as normal as she seemed" 

"You gotta have a crush to be willing to kiss a pucked mouth"

"No, you must be sick! However it was a wet and cold kiss. And there were no more kisses between me and her. To be safe anyway, from then on I went to school by bike"

"It didn't traumatize you at all, nooo"

"And what about you?"

"Ah my story is less funny. I was twelve, he was one year older, I had braces on my teeth, he had too. We didn't get stuck or anything like that, but there were some technical difficulties, mini metallic clashes, it was a bit embarrassing, but cute" the little smile that appeared on her face as she recalled the memory almost makes me jealous.

"And your cute kiss was the first of a long series?"

"No, the next day he got together with my friend" and the dreamy smile disappeared, replaced by a half-resigned grin.

"Ouch. Did she have braces as well? It must have been an issue of accessibility, don't take it personally"

"Actually no, she didnt!"

"Come on, next question, but this time it's my turn" I take matters into my own hands and pretend to improvise a question that I've been preparing for a while instead.

"Ok"

"How many guys did you date after the surgery?"

"Oh. Wow, good question" 

"I only ask good questions"

"First of all, define date"

"At least one date, in the evening, alone" I list the primary conditions on three fingers.

"Okay, well, that's an accurate definition"

"Did you expect something different from me?" I set the bowl of cashews down on the coffee table and cross my arms, turning to face her, preparing myself for her response and the big talk that will follow.

"Hehe absolutely not"

"So?"

"Well I don't know, ten-ish"

"What about a more precise answer, adequate to the question?" I know, it's not essential to have the exact data, but while we're at it, I want to know.

"Wait..." Grace, after one last bite, rubs the salt of the cashews off her hands and then I see her start counting mentally and with her fingers.

"Twelve"

"Including me?

"Thirteen" she corrects herself with a satisfied smile. 

"And how many of them did you share your secret with?"

"All of them, except two. So eleven"

"And how many of these did you go on a second date with?"

"Mmmm six"

"And how many have you had sex with?"

"Oh God, where are you going with this?" Grace starts to get suspicious, but I won't give up.

"How many?"

"Four"

"And of these four, how many have also slept with you?" 

"Do we really have to talk about it?" she's not angry, just a little sulky.

"Yup" 

"One"

"Ok. And was this guy so much better than me?"

"Stone..."

“Was he a saint, an empath, a Nobel Peace Prize…?”

"I would say no"

"A psychologist, a therapist, a doctor?"

"No, and he wasn't even a champion of sensitivity, if I have to be honest"

"Great! Just like me. So how about we give my back a break tonight and have a good night's sleep in your room?"

"You have to understand that it's not easy"

"No way! Really? Of course know it's difficult, Grace, and even if I hadn't figured it out myself, let's say that an average of one in thirteen would have been overwhelming proof, don't you think?" 

"It took me a long time to accept myself, it was hard to be able to look at myself, let alone let another person see me and touch me"

"Grace, I know, ok? I know. But I'll ask you a question" I take her hand, perhaps more to block her than to console her. 

"Another one??"

"We have to get to know each other, don't we?" I take the other one too and she squeezes both of them.

"Yes, but at this rate we'll tell each other everything tonight and what will we be talking about from tomorrow on?"

"Haha, do you think I won’t find any more topics to talk about? Me? You underestimate me"

"Okay, what do you want to know?" she sighs resigned.

"You don't show yourself because you're uncomfortable or because you don't want to make me uncomfortable?" 

"Stone, it is...both"

"But in percentage?"

"How can I quantify? I don't know, fifty-fifty"

"Bullshit"

"Ahahahah how can you say that?" 

"What happens if you take off these boots in front of me now? Nothing changes. Nothing for you, you are always the same, the only variable is me and how I could react. This is what changes and this is what worries you"

"And you think your reaction has nothing to do with me? That it doesn't have any effect? ​​I'm obviously worried about it"

"Sure, but you gotta understand that it's not an avoidable thing. I mean, sooner or later it will have to happen, I can't sleep on this couch forever and you can't wear boots inside the house forever" 

"Sometimes I even wear normal shoes. With baggy pants," she points out knowing full well that's not the point, but behaving as if it were. 

"Yes and when you have that outfit it means you don't wanna have sex" I can lighten up a conversation too, you know?

"Ahahahah"

"I've learned to recognize the signs, you know"

"However, I know that sooner or later it will happen. I just want to take my time" 

"The question is... if I see all of you in a month's time, will your foot be less absent than it is now? I mean, is the non-existence of your foot inversely proportional to the time that goes by?" is it a good idea to make sarcastic jokes right now? Yes, because if I didn't, then it wouldn't be me, I would seem fake, and I want everything to be as true and honest as possible. 

"No, but you'll have more time to get used to the idea"

"And why should that be your problem?"

"Huh?" Grace glares at me, as if I've insulted her, so maybe I need to explain better.

"Cause we're back to to my first question: are you more uncomfortable for yourself or is it more like not wanting to make me uncomfortable? Because if it's the second one, well you don't have to, because it's not your job. It's not your job to think how to make your boyfriend feel comfortable when he's with you, that's none of your business, it's the part of the relationship work that I have to do, it's my responsibility, not yours. Will it be a piece of cake? No. Will I be completely indifferent to the thing? Fuck no, but I'm the one who has to deal with my fears and reactions, not you" 

"You must be really uncomfortable on this sofa to try and sound so convincing, huh?" she delivers this pretty good, because she keeps a very serious expression, except for a slightly arched eyebrow. 

"I don't give a fuck about the couch"

"I know, I was being sarcastic"

"Well you can't be when I'm not"

"The light must stay off" the light will be off, but I finally see a glimmer of light.

"Okay, I'll grope, feeling the stuffed animals in the dark towards the bed"

"And the hands must stay away from the legs"

"Jeez, I'll keep them away from everything if you want, I'll stay on my side and won't move, if you want you can come closer. We'll, if you really have to"

"I have to remove the prosthesis when I sleep"

"I'm so ignorant I didn't know, see how much I'm already learning with you? Anyway it's ok" 

"But I have the sock"

"Ok"

"It's a specific sock, which you put on the stump... it covers everything, in short"

"I won't see it in the dark anyway"

“Ok”

"Ok, can we go, then?" I slowly get up from the couch, not letting go of her hands, which I've been holding the whole time.

"Let's go" she takes a moment, then she gets up too.

"Anyway, you don't need to turn off the light right away. You're wearing my shirt and you're completely naked underneath, who gives a shit about your feet? I mean, in general, people aren't constantly looking at each other's feet while interacting. I take it for granted that people have them, but it's not like they're there to be looked at. Have you ever seen my feet? Can you honestly tell me what they look like? I guess not, I think you don't give a shit after all. And the same thing  goes for me. And by the way, I'm too concentrated on what is there to think about what's missing" I go freewheeling, perhaps because the walk in silence towards the bedroom looks so much like a journey to the gallows and this has got nothing to do with that.

"Are you done?" Grace stops in front of the bedroom door and looks at me as if I were a poor jerk.

"Yup"

"I've already said yes, you don't have to convince me anymore"

"You said yes to this now. There are still a lot of things I have to convince you to do, I must keep myself in training"

**************************************************

21:58 

In theory there are two minutes left for my shift, in practice, as usual, it will still take some time before I set foot back home. First I have to dispose of the people in the till, then I have to do the accounts and write down the partial collection, I gotta check that there are enough coins and cash, bags, paper rolls of the card machine and the cash register, leave notes in the notebook for Ian about the things I've done and what still needs to be done. In short, I won't be free before half past ten, but tonight I don't mind. I have to wait for Eddie anyway. Finally we'll see each other and we manage to spend one evening together. At least I hope, cause he warned me that he might be late, but that he will do everything to be here as soon as possible after today's recording session. He cares a lot and, well, so do I. Every time we talk on the phone or see each other in passing it's like he's trying to apologize for his working schedule and I'm always there to reassure him. It's his job, and you don't have to be together 24/7 to be in a relationship. However I am pleased to be able to spend a quiet evening without counting the minutes. And maybe it's because of my unusual good mood that I decide to break the rule of the good old pissed off saleswoman and start a conversation with the customer in front of me that goes a little beyond the simple greeting. 

"Good evening, how are you?" I smile as I type the receipt.

"Have you ever sat on the toilet reading the newspaper long enough to forget you shitted only to realize minutes later that you hadn't wiped your ass?"

"...it's twenty-four dollars fifty-five"

It's my fault, only my fault. 

The intellectual man pays and leaves and it's the turn of another guy in his forties. Of all the items he's placed on the counter for me, I reach for the six-pack of beer first and I am about to scan it, but the man cuts me off. 

"Sorry, I'm actually trying to drink a little less. Could you put them away, please?"

"Sure no problem!" I put the beers to the side and continue with the rest of the shopping, when a woman, who has appeared out of nowhere, approaches him and stares at me with a glare.

"What did you tell him?!" he yells at me.

"Excuse me?"

"Stop talking to my man! You can't have him, he's mine!" then she turns to him "What the fuck did she tell you? Did she ask your number or what?!"

"Mmm no, I just asked her to put the beers aside" he replies in a calm, monotonous voice, in stark contrast to her anxious one. 

I look at her dumbfounded, she stares at him first, then me and I take the beer to show to her and confirm the man's version; then her gaze returns to him.

"Ah! So now you're buying other women drinks, huh?! Forget about coming home tonight!" and that said, she just up and leaves. 

The customer stands there, impassive, rolls his eyes, and then motions me to continue. I tap the last few pieces and at that point I see him stretch his hands over the beers to bring them closer to the till again.

"Okay, l think I'll take the beer after all. If I have to sleep in the dog's kennel tonight, at least I won't be sober!" he hints at a smile, rather bitter, with the face of someone who has already seen multiple scenes like this. I finish his bill, he pays and leaves and I greet him, not envying him at all. 

"Oh, such weird people..." a lady in a long yellow coat, the last in line, at least for now, shakes her head as she approaches the counter.

"Yes, strange types show up sometimes at this time if the day" 

"Very Strange"

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, I have to make a return"

"Sure, what is it about?"

"I'm returning this" the lady hands me a copy of today's Seattle Times. 

Never two without three.

"Excuse me, why do you want to return it?"

"Because I've read it all, I need tomorrow's issue"

Take a breath, Angie, a good deep breath. 

"Tomorrow's paper isn't out yet, ma'am, but I couldn't change it for you anyway"

"Well give me a voucher, so tomorrow I can get the new newspaper"

"It's not possible, ma'am, I can't accept this return"

"Why not? It's from today, it's expiring, you have to give me tomorrow's newspaper" 

The thing that drives me crazy the most is actually having a dialogue with people like this: not the assholes, who insult you or pick on you by yelling after you, they are nothing compared to people who are perfectly calm, even kind, and lucid in their their madness, they really think they're right and they just don't understand why you're there making trouble for them. 

"I can't because my superior takes care of this kind of returns, just wait a minute, I'll go call him immediately" I wouldn't want to bother Hannigan, but I can't make it tonight. And then I caught a glimpse of the headlights and the silhouette of Eddie's pickup through the glass, so goodbye. 

I get the boss to intervene and he must be really in a state of grace because he tells me to go and that he'll take care of the rest. It's mid-March, but I'm sure tomorrow it's gonna snow! I go and get changed in a flash and when I come back in front of the till I hear the lady repeating the same objections and, at the same time, the doorbell ringing.

"EDDIE! God I'm glad to see you!" I greet him, and almost knock him down, with a hug.

"Hey! Oh, well, heheh, me too Angie"

"Please save me, take me away from this madhouse" I add softly begging for mercy. 

"Ah! So that's why…"

"There's a particularly high concentration of crazy customers tonight"

"And I thought you missed me, at least a little bit" Eddie frees himself from my clutches and jokingly pushes me away pretending to be offended. 

"Of course I missed you." I come closer and kiss him. Yes, here, in front of everyone, including Hannigan, Ian and the crazy customer. Eddie should be proud of me, I'm not ashamed of anything anymore. Well almost "The fact that your arrival coincides with the end of my nightmarish shift is a plus" 

"I pretend to believe you. I forgive you. But only because it's you. And because it's a special day" he kisses me to seal the peace and I think about how special this evening will be. I guess Eddie has very high expectations, but I just hope I don't fall asleep before the end of the film since I'm also a bit tired.

"So, what do you want to do? Where are we going?" she asks me once outside.

"Oh well, I was planning on staying home, I rented a movie" 

"Okay, kitty" I appreciate the fact that he kept the dumb nickname for when we would be alone, away from prying ears.

"And then I was thinking of ordering a pizza, since I haven't eaten"

"Oh perfect, me neither! In fact I'm starving" with an arm around my neck, he accompanies me towards the door of my house. 

"But maybe you wanted to go somewhere"

"Nah, your place is great"

"Perhaps you were thinking of something in particular. We can also change plans, you know"

"The program is fantastic and, to tell you the truth, it's exactly what I was hoping for, I'm a little tired. Of course, if you had planned something else then I would have adapted, but really, pizza, movie and sofa with you seem like a dream to me right now"

"Are you sure?" he's kept talking about this special evening for days but now he wants me to believe that he was waiting for nothing but to be sprawled out on the sofa to stock up on pizza and horror?

"Absolutely. Then it's with you, so it's perfect regardless"

"Is it?" I ask him as we climb the stairs.

"Of course. Well... actually, no." he changes pace, in every sense, because he accelerates and passes me on the steps, then he turns around and I see that he's pouting. Real or fake? "No, because I'm actually mad at you" 

"Hehe what? Why?"

"Ask Matt" he starts running up the stairs, but not too fast, because he knows very well that I would catch up with him the day after tomorrow and out of breath.

"Matt? What does Matt have to do with it?" I ask both him and myself, not understanding the connection between the drummer and some crap of my own that I may have said or done. 

"Well Matt told me something this morning during our guitar lesson"

"Ah. You mean that Matt" I understand he's talking about Dillon and not Cameron.

"Yeah, that Matt. Let me tell you, I'm very, very disappointed" we get to my floor, we cross the corridor, he always pouting ahead and I behind, laughing a little and thinking about how I'll get out of it this time. 

"I don't understand what you mean, what did he tell you?" I play dumb as I open the door, under Eddie's stern, judgmental gaze. 

"He told me that a few days ago he met some of my friends on set, which would then be you and Grace"

"Ok"

"So I explained to him that you're my girlfriend and guess what he said?" did he really feel the need to tell a Hollywood actor that I'm his girlfriend? 

"Um what if I order the pizza first and then I guess?" rhetorical question as I take off my jacket and grab the cordless phone.

"He said we would all surely meet each other more often on set, since Cam OFFERED YOU A FUCKING PART IN THE FILM" Eddie reveals everything and raises his voice just when I've finished dialing the number and put the phone to my ear.

"Is it okay with double cheese?" 

"Yup." she concedes and then takes me by the hand to the sofa while I finish ordering "But you're a liar"

"It's not true, I told you so! I also told you about how I escaped and about the shitty figure" I try to justify myself to him, who looks at me like a principal listening to the apologies of the student in trouble, undecided whether to suspend them or not, obviously sitting on the opposite side of the sofa a thousand miles from me.

"You told me you ran away because there were too many famous people and you were getting anxious and not because Crowe had just asked you to star in the movie"

"It's not a lie, technically it's more of an omission"

"And why would you have omitted to tell me this?"

"Because if you had known, you would have tried to convince me to accept"

"Why? Don't you want to accept?" he suddenly asks me in amazement and moves on the sofa in my direction.

"There we go"

"But why?" Eddie moves a little closer. Why? As if he didn't know me.

"Because… it's not my thing"

"But cinema… is your thing, isn't it supposed to be like your job?" he gets even closer until our knees touch.

"I want to write for cinema, not act"

Eddie unties my legs, which were crossed until a second ago, and gently adjusts them on his, he pulls me towards him and now we're as close as we can get. 

"I too want to write and sing songs, not be a roadie. But I set up the stages anyway. It's all part of the system, you have to start somewhere"

"You only did it so you could see concerts for free"

"Well, just think that you can watch a movie for free, from inside the movie." he reiterates hugging me "You can see how a film is made, see the actors"

"I don't care about actors and movies look much better from the outside, trust me"

"Angie, can I ask you one thing?"

"Yes" I say and I already expect the correct and perfectly logical, as well as almost certainly funny, speech with which he will bare the stupidity of my insecurities and demonstrate that accepting that part is the only sensible thing to do and will convince me to say yes and that's exactly why I didn't want to tell him a damn thing in the first place. 

"Actually two"

"Ok"

"Where's Meg?"

"She went to be a stewardess at a cardiology convention or something, and she said she'd go dancing with the other girls afterward, so she'll be back late."

"And when does the pizza arrive?" it confuses me and I try to understand how far he's taking it and where he's going with his motivational speech starting from my roommate and passing through pizza.

"In half an hour. Why?"

"Because… I know we're discussing important things and I don't want to sound inappropriate at all, but we're alone and so much can be done in half an hour and you're so sexy when you insist on defending your indefensible opinions and wee haven't had sex in like fifteen years, so how about going to your room for a sec?"

"How can it be fifteen years if we've known each other for less than one?"

"Tsk you want to be a writer and you can't recognize hyperbole?"

"What?"

"Hyperbole"

"Say it again"

"Hyperbole"

"You're sexy when you say hyperbole, could you say that in a more indefensible tone?"

"Fuck you. Shall we go?" 

Since I'm good at being cool and resisting, about thirty seconds later we are in my bed. And we're still there exactly seven minutes later, gasping for breath in the dark. 

"A bit fast, huh?" 

"Fast, but effective"

"I told you it felt like fifteen years..."

"If these are the effects, I recommend continuing to see each other at this frequency"

"What a bitch!" I can make out his smiling profile in the dark, as he shifts closer under the covers "Anyway, going back to the previous topic…"

"Ah, do you want to go back to the previous discussion? I thought you'd dismissed it by now due to more urgent needs- OUCH!" I joke and he, close to me, takes his revenge with a pinch where the sun doesn't shine. 

"No, I haven't dismissed it. And be good, because I'm about to say something serious"

"Mmm ok, shoot" here comes the bullshit in disguise that will lead me to accept the proposal.

"I don't want to tell you what to do, because in the end it's you who have to decide. I can only give you my opinion. I think that deep down you want to throw yourself into this adventure but you're scared or ashamed or both. I don't know if you can do it, but Crowe is a professional, I think he can tell if a person can act or not and would never entrust you with a part above your skills. I have a line too, you know?"

"But I have more than one, that's the problem!"

"He definitely doesn't give a shit about our acting skills, he wants us to play ourselves, so you too, you'll just have to be yourself"

"Okay, I correct myself, that 's the problem"

"I don't…" My eyes have adjusted to the darkness and I see almost every detail of his face as she tries to piece together what he wants to say "but I don't see why you shouldn't try. Worst case scenario, if it really doesn't work, Cam could always cut your scene, you've got nothing to lose."

"Except my dignity"

"Mmm don't pretend to be a coward"

"Hahaha do you think I pretend? Sure, I'm actually super brave"

"You're very brave. Since I've known you, I've seen you do a lot of things that you might not even want to hear at first: play basketball with us, play the drums, go up the Space Needle, dance in a disco full of people without shyness, taking a plane to San Diego alone..." he kisses me after the last one in the list "I wasn't there yet, but I heard you even took the elevator in this building once" 

"There I risked seriously"

"Anyway, it seems to me that you are quite good at doing the things that scare you the most, this would be just the umpteenth demonstration of how cool you are, you wouldn't risk anything"

And I would like to tell him that I'm neither cool or brave and that if I've done each of those things it's because each and every time there was someone else to push me and that it takes very little insistence to make me do things, it's really easy to make me say yes. But for once I don't want to exaggerate, I don't want to make him snort as usual and turn out to be the ever problematic girl, I don't want to destroy his beliefs: I mean, if he's drawn this little portrait of Angie the Intrepid in his mind, who am I to refute it? At the same time, I have no idea what the fuck to say because I never understood how the hell you respond to compliments.  Like, who was supposed to teach me and when? Usually I respond with a sarcastic joke, but now I'm in bed with my boyfriend and something tells me that would not be the best reaction. So what do I do? Do I show discomfort? Do I scale back his flattery? Do I justify the reason for the success of all the experiences he listed? Do I distrust? Goat? Not say anything? Drop the subject? Thank him and stop? The sound of the intercom comes to my rescue.

"Oh. Either Meg broke all hearts at the cardiologist convention or our pizza's early." Eddie pulls away from me and sits up on the bed.

"We gotta get up to find out" 

"I'll go, don't worry" Eddie with sudden newfound energy springs out of bed and leaves the room.

"EDDIE?!" I yell at him as he runs away, but he doesn't listen. He reappears at my bedroom door a minute later.

"It's the pizza" he acts as if nothing had happened.

"BUT DID YOU GO LIKE THIS?" I insist, holed up under the duvet, while he turns on the light and explores the floor of the room. Luckily I'm already lying down, otherwise I could have collapsed.

"Like what?" he asks absently, then finds his boxers at the foot of the bed and, picking them up, finally looks at me. And I look at him. And then he understands "I only answered the intercom, he can't see me" he smiles slyly putting on his underwear.

"Thank god…"

"Don't pretend to be jealous, you're not credible" he quickly puts on his cargo pants and red checked shirt, buttoning it at random. 

"The money for the pizza is in the cabinet outside in the corridor, in the drawer"

"Okay." starts to leave the room again, but then turns around "What are you doing? Aren't you coming?"

"I'm coming now"

"Ok"

"Ok" I answer, still under the duvet, while he doesn't get out of there. 

"Or maybe you want to have dinner in bed?" the little shit winks at me.

"No no, no crumbs in my bed"

"All right"

"Okay" and he stays there.

"Come on or pizza will get cold" 

"I told you I'm coming now, just go and I'll join you!" he almost laughs at me, but the pizza guy saves me a second time as he rings the doorbell. Eddie gives up and goes to open the door but I don't hear the sound of the drawer opening. What the fuck. I get out of bed in a sprint and close the door before putting on my pajamas in record time. When I leave the room we almost have a head-on collision: the jerk thought he would be catching me red-handed! 

"Ready?" he asks pretending to pass by by chance.

"You payed?" 

"Yup"

"But the money is here" I open the drawer and show him.

"I took the money from my wallet"

"And why?"

"To make it faster. Are you coming now or do we have to stay here and discuss until the pizza becomes inedible?"

"Come on, let's go!" I would like to take his hand, but I end up pulling him by the unbuttoned sleeve of his shirt, and take him to the sofa. Eddie immediately grabs a slice of pizza and I manage to throw paper napkins at him, threatening him "If you dirty my sofa I'll kill you"

"What movie are we watching, kitty?"

"We're watching Children of the corn !" I reply enthusiastically by pressing PLAY on the remote control and pounce on the pizza too.

"From the title, I imagine it's a romantic comedy with a guaranteed happy ending" 

"Obviously" 

"And are you sure I can eat while I watch it?"

"Ahah yes, don't worry, it's not that strong" I open two beers and give him one.

"You said the same thing about Hellraiser "

"Okay, you're the one who's too sensitive! Amyway this is a lot softer, there's no comparison, I'd say it's almost comedy"

"Ok, I trust you, kitty" we toast with our cans and start the vision.

***

"Well comedy… I wouldn't say that…" the movie is over, as well as pizza and beer.

"Come on, shall we talk about the acting? And then, those fucking special effects! It seems like they ran out of money at some point"

"They must have spent it all on corn"

"Haha exactly! Hey, by the way, did you know that in a certain sense I was a child of the corn as well?"

"Were you a member of a satanic cult of baby-killers?" Eddie, who was completely slouched on his side of the sofa, now sits up a little curious.

"Eheheh no, also because at this age they would have already sacrificed me"

"So?"

"Well, you know the summer jobs you used to work when you were a kid? Ok, you're from San Diego, so well, your concept of a summer job will include things like lifeguard, waiter, ice cream guy, stuff like that, right?"

"More or less. Whereas in Idaho?"

"In Idaho we went out castrating corn!"

"Hahaha what?" at this point I have Eddie's full attention, and he sits up straight and approaches me.

"Corn detasseling, I went four years in a row, to Notus"

"What the fuck does detasseling mean? Does corn get castrated?"

Of course now I'm teaching my mini-agriculture lesson that Eddie was dying to hear. On special evenings, couples talk about projects, they slowly discover each other, they flirt. Instead, I talk about how corn has both male and female flowers, explaining that if you remove the male part of the plant it will not pollinate itself, but it can be fertilized by the variety chosen by the farmer, which will not be clipped, thus creating hybrids . 

"In simple terms, the work consisted of walking for hours and hours in the corn fields, pulling the tops off the plants with your bare hands. You started in the morning, when everything was damp, and you ended up in the afternoon, soaked in sweat from the heat. Also because you had to wear long pants and long sleeves if you didn't want to cut your skin completely"

"Sharp leaves?"

"Like fucking razors, Eddie, you don't understand"

"The ideal job for children"

"I'm sure you'll be more understanding with Malachi now"

"Hahaha yes! Now I understand why they rebelled, poor kids"

"I'm pretty sure He who walks behind the rows is actually a child who got lost while corn detasseling, bleeding to death, and now his soul continues to wander in the fields in search of his parents to take revenge"

"Blood red corn from children employed in child labour"

"Those in short-sleeved T-shirts! But I was making twelve dollars an hour..."

"Not bad! Anyway, you were practically working as corn contraceptives"

"We Were Corn's Planned Parenthood "

"So corn has sex too. And more than us, I guess”

"Hahahaha Eddie!" I get up acting shocked, and I go to throw away both the pizza box and the empty beer cans.

"I'd rather not be neutered though"

"You're an asshole! How long have you been circling around the concept to finally get there?"

"It's been a while. Just kidding, kitty"

"I know" I get back from the kitchen.

"It's just that… well, we just got together, we should be in the middle of our honeymoon phase , but I'm never there and I'm so sorry"

"Our phase what??"

"Yes, the first phase of a relationship. When you are constantly looking for each other... euphoria, lots of mutual attention, cuddles, continuous search for physical contact, passion, chemistry... you know?"

"Well, I'd say we still have these things, don't we? They're just more… diluted over time"

"Uh I'd rather concentrate them"

"But that's not necessarily a bad thing if you think about it: it means you'll get tired of me much later" 

"Why do you always have to say stuff like that?" it's not that he's really pissed off, but you can clearly see him frowning a bit.

"Heheh come on, it was a joke"

"I know, but I don't like it when you make these jokes. About me breaking up with you, getting tired or bored… it's like you did that to normalize the thing, to prepare yourself for when it should happen"

"It's not like that" but it's exactly like that, fuck, and I could not have summarized the concept better. If I can't help saying certain things it's not because I want to be reassured by him that they will never happen, but precisely because I know for sure that they will happen and at least that's how I get used to the idea. 

"I'm exaggerating, I know. I don't want to make a drama out of it, it's just that I don't really think about the end of our relationship, I don't wanna think about it, not even as a joke"

"Maybe it's because we've had different experiences, that's all"

"Yeah. Anyway, I didn't want to start an argument, who cares about other experiences, let's think about this one now, ok? And then, especially today" he takes me by the hand and the dimpled smile becomes overbearing again.

"Hehe why today?"

"Well, because it's a special day"

"Wow the fact that you missed me so much flatters me, but does it take so little to make a day special?"

"It always is when we're together, but… this time it's not special just because of that"

"No? For what then?"

"Well, you should know..."

Oh shit. 

"Mmm should I?"

"Angie, what day is it today?" he releases my hands and, arms folded, begins the interrogation.

"Thursday"

"Yes, but what day is it?"

"March 14th"

"And what day is it?"

"Your Birthday is in December"

"It's clearly qnot my birthday. And neither is yours"

"Name day? I didn't know you were Catholic"

"No and no" by the fact that he's smiling I know I'm not in trouble, but it's clear that I'm not making a great impression. 

"Were we supposed to do something and I completely forgot about it?"

"No, it's something we've done before, some time ago." he explains to me and when he sees the cosmic nothingness in my eyes he gives me another clue “One thing we did this day”

"But last year in March we didn't know each other, I wasn't even here"

"Don't go back too long"

"What do you mean?"

"A month ago, what day was it?" he rolls his eyes and gives me yet another little help.

"February 14th, Valentine's Day?"

"And where were you a month ago at this time?"

"Dunno, same as the last 18 years? Most likely in bed sleeping"

"No. Think about it, where were you?"

"Wait, yeah, I was on a bus to Seattle"

"Okay, what about a few hours before? Where were you? What were you doing? Angie, you're fucking making me sweat"

"Aaaaaaaaaah! I know! At the bus station! We kissed!"

"BINGO!" Eddie even starts a mini applause, I don't know if it's relief or to take the piss out of me or both.

"Yay! See? I did it"

"So you understand why it's special"

"It was great, yes. At one point I didn't understand shit anymore, but it was an unforgettable moment" he kissed me and I started hearing Depeche Mode in my head and then I couldn't even remember where I was, if he hadn't physically put me on that bus I'd probably still be there.

"Yes and that's when it all started. Well, it's a kind of anniversary, isn't it? It's not an anniversary, but…"

"It's a... Monthliversary! Ahahahahah like welve year olds say, who count months"

"Well, we've been together for a month, so…"

"A month…? What do you mean? Cause you… you count since the kiss?"

"Yes, for me it started from there. Why? Since when do you count?"

"I don't count"

"Huh?"

"I mean, I never asked myself the question. I didn't know I had to count, that's it"

"You didn't know you had to count" he repeats, looking at me almost in amazement.

"I didn't… I explained to you that I haven't really had any regular relationships, right?"

"Are you saying you never counted ?"

“Exactly, the guys I was with weren't interested in those things. And so I never was either. I never celebrated anniversaries, monthlyversaries  or dayversaries or anything really. My relationships were all so short that I never even had time to figure out if I wanted to celebrate"

"Well, it's not that it's essential to have a date. But… no, fuck it, it's not true, I want a date, I need it, so if it's okay with you, February 14th is our day, ok?" his inner debate can be seen very well even from the outside and makes me smile.

"What you call our day ironically coincides with the most hypocritical and commercial holiday in the world, did you notice that?" 

"Of course! And making it our day is the greatest revolutionary act we can do, don't you think?" 

"Well, it's a point of view- WAIT" I don't smile anymore because I just realized it's not a fucking laugh.

"Hehe what is it?"

"You've been talking about this special night for days. Because that's what you meant! Celebrating our… Oh my!  Our monthlyiversary?!"

"Yes, but it's not like we had to do who knows what celebration, what we did is fine"

"But it doesn't count if I didn't know shit! I forgot, do you understand? I feel like shit" I stare at the carpet in the living room and I would like to roll up in it and then be thrown into the landfill in shame.

"Hahaha but no, why?"

"You thought of something sweet and I'm the fucking cold loveless nonaffective girlfriend" I take a pillow from the sofa and sink my face into it.

"Nonaffective? You?? How?!"

"I'm a bitch. Luckily you didn't buy me a gift, otherwise I'd be a total bitch"

"Uhm…"

"Eddie?" his hesitation leads me to remove the pillow from my face and I read his answer on his.

"It's not like I really got you a present..."

"HOLY FUCKIN SHIT" this time I slump directly on the armrest of the sofa.

"But it's a thing for both of us, not necessarily to celebrate the month" he tries to sugarcoat the pill as he gets up to retrieve his jacket to take something from his pockets.

"You bought me a present. And I didn't even make you a sandwich. I ordered a pizza. WHICH YOU PAID FOR!"

"Kitty, don't fret" she comes back and kneels on the rug in front of me, making me feel more anxious.

"Advice: NEVER call me Kitty when I'm upset"

"Listen, I only bought two tickets to Neil Young at the Coliseum in April. I would have bought them anyway, apart from the monthlyiversary" he explains, showing me the two white and blue tickets.

"I can't believe you say monthlyversary, you're an adult" I breathe a sigh of relief, even though I still feel like shit.

"Are you trying to make me feel stupid?" thinking about it, I feel stupid for forgetting about it, but how must he feel? He made all this big deal about this special occasion when I wasn't even remotely thinking about it, and what's more, I'm making a Greek tragedy out of it.

"No! It's pretty obvious by now that I'm the dumbass of the couple" Eddie puts the tickets in my hands and then takes them in his own.

"So, what I'm trying to say is that I just took them, regardless of the anniversary, because as soon as I heard about the concert, the first thing I thought was that I would go with you. I thought I'd give you the ticket today because. it seemed like a nice way to say Hey, Angie, I didn't disappear, I'm still here and I want to be with you and do things with you and even though the currents seem to carry me away a lot, you'll never lose me because the currents are always changing, and I'll only ever come back to you"

"You really have a thing for surfing metaphors, no doubt about it"

"Fuck off, Angie. From the bottom of my heart" he kisses me and I can't help but think about how much I love when Eddie tells je yo go to hell.

"Now I have to think about what to give to you that can compete with Neil Young"

"You don't owe me anything" he shakes his head as he gets off the floor and settles down on the couch.

"Ok, what if I want to give you a badass gift for our second monthlyversary? Who'll stop me? This time I'll mark it on my calendar though"

"Haha it's not like we have to celebrate every month now"

"Why not? And how do I make up for my poor figure ?"

"You don't, so I keep the upper hand in our couple dynamics"

"I was already looking forward to the fifth, with the curious interposition between our anniversary and the anniversary of the Bastille Day: the two revolutionary acts par excellence"

"I see you're still fucking with me" I pull away again slipping towards the other end of the sofa, but he follows me and is practically on top of me.

"Who? Me? No!"

"You're sexy when you do"

"So yeah, I'm definitely fucking with you, big time"

"The truth is, you do and say a lot of sexy things, have you noticed that?" 

"Yes, you see that's my upper hand in our couple dynamics"

"This too, very sexy"

"Do you want to, like… go to my room?"

"And you read my mind too"

“But I can't read every single thing"

“No?”

"Uhm no"

"Then I guess I'll have to give you some advice"

"Please, I'm all ears"

[vhstve591]

What do I see across the way? Hey....

See myself molded in clay. Oh.....

Alice in Chains - Dirt (Columbia, 1992) - Photographed by Rocky Schenck, designed by Schenck and Mary Maurer

The woman buried in the dirt is model Mariah O'Brien. The photo wasn't taken from an actual desert, but from Schenck's studio in Hollywood (who in their right mind would take photos in the uninhabitable California deserts for hours?). Drummer Sean Kinney, noted photo enthusiast, supervised the shoot.

A theory circulated for a while that the model in the cover was Demri Parrott, Layne Staley's love interest at the time. Schenck ended up setting the record straight, stating that while her name was brought up as choice, the group never took the idea seriously.

Image courtesy of Revolver Magazine.

[eyes-like-a-pisces]

Not the first time I saw a post saying something like: I don't understand why people worship Demri, just because she dated Layne, cause we don't know much about her as a person. They relationship was toxic and not something to glorify.

And you know, from my side It looks like I don't worship or glorify anybody, but an interest and connection is not something u start to feel, because "It's the right thing to do and this person deserves It and this one doesn't". It just kinda happenes naturally. You read their story and It actually is something so easily to romanticize and think about as Romeo and Juliet scenario, like 'he died because she died". It was romanticizing for centuries, whatever It's healthy or not. But I'm actually very down to earth about It and don't romanticize It at all. I empathize with It. It's just tragic that It ended this way. You can say don't glorify their relationship, because you don't know them personally, but also don't judge their relationship, because you don't know them personally.

But what I can say about Demri from my own personal perspective is that the first time I saw her pictures and I just fell in love. To me, her beauty is breathtaking, but at the same time she doesn't look like 'typical model rockstar gf'. (No offence to typical model rockstar gfs tho). But you can see her vibrant personality is her style, smile, eyes... So It got me more interested in her. And when I started reading stories about her I had to sit down for a second. Because It was like: she was artsy, short, bisexual, philosophical, jokester, eldest sister in a patchwork family, astrological february pisces and her favourite band was cocteau twins.

So I could just put It in my bio as a description of myself and everything would be right ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. So obviously I feel connected to her (not to mention that she died in 1996 and I was born in 1996 and I had dreams about being high when I was a child, so I think It's worth a conspiracy theory, but that's the other story). And just as a bonus she happened to be a gf of my favourite bands singer and her pictures are super aesthetic, but even if that would be the only reason to like her, so what? People who knew her say that she was really kind, vibrant and interesting woman and they miss her very much, so I think that's worth to keep the memory alive instead of burying somebody with a 'junkie' label, like their addiction is the only thing that defines them.

Plus the aura of mistery and the fact that we don't know much & only have few pictures (and that's ok, because It was their private life) makes the moment when someone from their surroundings is willing to share a story or post a new picture feel like Christmas.

[ifellinthebin]

Demri Lara Parrott (seen here with Layne Staley, Xana la Fuente and Sean Kinney) was an artist and aspiring model in Seattle. She was a friend and fiance to Layne Staley before their relationship broke down. Although rumours say Demri introduced Layne to heroin, close friends of the pair say this is not true.

Today, February 22nd, would have been her birthday.

[stars-open-among-the-lilies]

A few years ago I stumbled upon a post written by someone who claimed she had been a friend of Layne that also happened to have a crush on him. It’s probably – almost certainly – a fake, but at the time it really struck me and inspired me to write a piece from the POV of this girl named Koa. I still have to translate my fanfiction but, in the meantime, I’ll put her original message under a “read more”, so I can link this to my writing and have this on my blog for me to read every once in a while. If anybody wants to read it: it’s long and there are a few passages that can annoy people who adore Demri or Jerry, so you’ve been advised.  I know that in my heart I just really hope this is somewhat true, that Layne could experience some kind of closure with an individual who didn’t want to exploit him... that’s all.

“First of all, please forgive my anonymity. I was anonymous when I knew Layne and there were lots of reasons for that. I don't know why I chose here, maybe I need to vent or maybe I just want to share a little bit of the truth as I perceived it. (Doubtlessly there are some people who were there at these times and knew things differently. It's the nature of things and I think that this is dictated by how we feel about certain people.)

I knew Layne circa '94 - '99, Demri circa '96 right before she died. I see a lot of conjecture and guessing about the nature of these relationships and it’s bugged me for years. I’m not jumping on this now just because our wonderful Layne is gone as much as because of the conjecture.

Back in '93 - early '94 Layne was seeing this dipshit model who did more harm to him than good. She was wicked to him but Layne was being a dumb kid and he just wanted to date a model, he said to himself when it was over. She wasn’t making a lot of money back then, but she did manage to get a lot of his. She had talked him into putting a lot of big purchases in her name. They broke up around spring - summer '94, or maybe even earlier. It was hard to tell because as many times as he said it was over, she was still going around town telling everyone that they had gotten married.

Layne later said that Demri wasn’t too bothered by this, but I didn’t know her then. Actually I was bothered by it though. ;) I was only then getting to know Layne and I liked him a lot. I was jealous of the model dipshit and I hated her. *sigh*

When they cancelled the '94 tour it was because Layne was afraid. He really freaked out over Kurt a few months before that. He’d had a close call and he didn’t think that he’d be able to stay clean on the road with that lifestyle. At the time, Jerry was very understanding and more than supportive to Layne. They were less like brothers than like a weird married couple. I’m not saying they were gay, lol! But they just often acted like a married couple.

Jerry was REALLY different back then. He loved Layne more than anything, I think even more than Courtney sometimes (Courtney as you all know was Jerry’s on - off gf.) At least, Layne came first. I think Jerry really was sincere, too, at least back then.

I’m not totally sure when that started to change. When they began the KISS tour, Layne had been clean for a (relatively) long time, but I remember he was very scared to leave. He didn’t seem to want to do it because he had a bad feeling about it. He fretted and fretted. One of his friends told him that he’d had an image of Layne trapped in an airplane as it filled with smoke (what a thing to say!) and Layne almost backed out then, but the others talked him into it. He had someone call a psychic for him to make sure that he would be okay.

Layne was okay until the last night of the tour. Personally, I have no idea exactly what happened, but I got a lot of stories. Layne was always really quiet about it. One of his more moronic friends told me that he had actually died, but what little I did get from Layne told me this wasn’t true. He always kept saying that he had “slipped”. Most of what everyone heard then was nonsense. I know he did get an infection because of his very, very stupid way of not looking after things. He became sort of ashamed and let it go longer than he should have. That’s where all the “gangrene” rumors started. He went into rehab after that. Then there was some stuff with his mother that I just can’t share here. Suffice to say that she got the wrong ideas about some things, Layne was hurt by her assumptions and they parted ways for a while.

I understand that Jerry started doing cocaine again around this time. Mind, I never knew him entirely well and I never saw him do it, but it’s what people were saying. Layne was trying to quit EVERYthing at this time (he even attempted quitting smoking) and Sean was still bringing pot around everytime they would get together. Jerry started to stay away from Layne though.

By '96 or so, Jerry was fed up with Layne’s fear of touring. Layne had admitted that he was mostly finished with show business. From then on, he said, he just wanted to do art and make music for his friends. Jerry loved the rock star lifestyle and didn’t want to give it up and he was pissed at Layne. But he never said so outright. Jerry would make these stupid, hazily spiteful remarks like “we’re standing by Layne” and “I love him anyway”. Who wants to be loved “anyway”? And the thing was that Layne was really bouncing back at this time. In spite of all the rumors he WAS clean. He was getting more and more into one of his favorite hobbies too, which was anime (which he helped get me into. Thank you again, Layne. :D ) His anime of choice back then was Vampire Princess Miyu.

Late '96, Demri started backsliding and this was around when I finally met her. Now whether or not Layne ever knew just how much I liked him, I don’t know, but Demri knew. We got along at first. Demri was sweet and helpful and fun. Then she moved in with Layne because she had nowhere else to go. They weren’t dating at the time, just sharing the apartment. Layne had told her that if she started using drugs again he’d have to make her leave. But Demri did start using drugs again, and instead of asking her to leave, because then she would really be in trouble, Layne took a hike. I don’t know where he went though, and even the people who he rented from thought he was still living there. He just didn’t tell anyone that he was leaving.

Demri made a mess of the house and the living situation in Layne’s absence. She turned really different, and believe me when I say that she was not truly the person that she was becoming. When she was herself she was a very sensitive and fun girl. Around October 20th or so she made some phone calls and wrote some letters to some people. Sparing the details, I ended up having a stupid fight with her about Layne. I was somewhat envious of her because Layne always seemed to forgive her each time, and there is something TO that, but at the same time I felt I was right; she was making a mess of things and she was in big trouble. She said something to me, I said something back, and that was it. When I spoke to Layne I was pissed off and crying, and told him what was going on at the house, but he pretty much already knew. That’s when he came back and Demri left.

Demri died on Oct. 29th of '96 of a heroin overdose. She was made weaker by the fact that she’d contracted heart problems from the use of dirty and used cotton when she used heroin. At 26 she was wearing a pacemaker. I remember a few months after she got the pacemaker that certain “friends” of Layne’s were blaming her illness on him. Why? Because she’d been staying at his apartment at the time that she got sick (when he had gone on tour) and, according to them, he hadn’t thought to leave her enough money to buy new bags of cotton for, what, ninety nine cents? Just how much sense does that make? She had her own connections for buying heroin and she could afford that, but it was LAYNE’S fault that she got sick b/c he hadn’t bought her cotton before he left. This is the kind of ridiculous talk he put up with from people who claimed to like him.

Right before Demri died she had been about to move to Hawaii with her father (or stepfather, I forget which.) She was also seeing this new guy that her family hadn’t met. He was a coke dealer. She went out one night with the new bf of hers and she had shot heroin before they left. They went down to QFC and he asked her to wait in the car while he ran into the store to buy a few things. When he came out, he assumed that she was asleep. He drove around town for a while after that not even aware that Demri was dying in the passenger seat. By the time he tried to wake her she was in a coma. That was the night of the 28th. Demri didn’t die till the morning of the 29th, in her mother’s arms at the hospital. I think that Layne always sort of blamed himself for not looking after her, because she did need looking after. Nice she was, but not very independent. Demri never grew up. I have some copies of her poetry. She once called herself “an alien waiting for a ride home”.

Around '97, Layne had moved to the U Dist. He hardly ever saw Jerry anymore, but Mike Inez was still kind of close with him. As for Mike Starr, if you’re wondering, he was living in a crappy old apartment (same building that I used to live in) with his father. One night he and his father were shooting heroin together and his father OD’ed. He lived through it, but they were kicked out of the apartment. Gah, Mike Starr was a weird one. I never met him, but that’s according to people who did. (At the time, Layne didn’t know what happened with MS. I’d heard it from one of the people I knew who also lived there.)

Jerry was totally dogging out then. He seemed to think that because he never shot heroin he was better than Layne. Jerry did do some heroin but he was all about coke, girls, money and fame. I started to dislike him then. You know what he was like? He was like Layne’s pimp, only he couldn’t get Layne to work. Layne was tired of it and didn’t want to do it anymore, and Jerry became very devious in his words and his actions. He’s a different person on coke. He walks around flipping his hair and trying to hump everything he thinks might have a vagina. He’s got this “I’m Jerry Cantrell and you’re not” sort of attitude. He started doing this whole big martyred thing in the press – “I’m standing by Layne, even though it’s making me sufferrrrrrr!” but in private he was slipping the knife in. God. Just thinking about it. >:(

Around '98, Mark Lanegan was living with Layne. Mark and Layne were really cool together. Lanegan was struggling to quit heroin and I would swear to this day that he’s here because of Layne. Layne helped him a lot in a lot of ways. He was always fighting someone else’s battle when he thought he had his beat. Lanegan was really sick for a while and Layne was like a Florence Nightingale. Oh lord, the jokes... ;D They would go out together and a lot of people thought they were gay. Which didn’t bother them though because they took it like one big joke. “Yeah we're gay, wanna join us?” LOL!

I just don’t know what happened after '98 - '99. Things were mellow, Layne was doing really well. He had his cats and a nice place to live and his art and his hobbies. I know that he was at Jerry’s '98 Halloween concert, and had thought about making an appearance there. He was dressed as a monster that night and no one recognized him.

I don’t know what happened after '99. I left Seattle because I was very stupidly stuck on Layne and I knew that probably nothing was going to come of it. I looked a little bit like Demri back then and I always had the feeling that Layne was a little weirded out by that. He only ever made one reference to the fact though, and that was after she was gone.

I moved thousands of miles away, he changed his email address and, though we spoke on the phone a few times since then it was only about little things. During this year I hadn’t heard a thing. But then I was never much more than a witness.

For Layne to die was just sad and wrong, but for him to die alone was just an abomination. By blaming Jerry and the rest of Layne’s “friends” I also have to blame myself for moving so far away and losing touch. On the other hand I also don’t flatter myself that I could have done something for him; I just don’t know if I was that important. But I will say this: Jerry saw this coming. Now you may say that he was just fed up with waiting for Layne to find solid ground once and for all, and I could totally understand that, but you’d be missing the point. Jerry’s almost entirely about money, or at least he was 3 years ago. I’m sure that he’s sad, I’m sure he feels it. But god, if he isn’t just a little gratified also. Jerry always had this “I told you so” thing going on. When Layne would relapse or even admit to weakness in the last few years that I knew them Jerry would get very patronizing and very smug. I’m sorry, but I just can’t stand the man. I hate the way he made people feel, so worthless and small.

I’m sorry, Layne. I made myself get over my stupid feelings for you because I had to, and when I did that I also got over my frustration with the fact that everytime I defended you I had to hide behind anonymity and lose credibility. I never told anyone that I knew you and you used to tell me “don't let it bother you. It’s just talk.” And things like that. I always had faith in you though.

I remember looking out your window at the docks one time while you were on the computer, and I was making you listen to some stupid old song because I thought it was cool. You were making fun of it and you crooned the line “you are so superduper bravissimo” to me like the big goofball that you were. Layne, I was yours for the asking, but you never asked.

That’s all I wanted to say. Maybe I’ll find a little peace now even without credibility, just like you always thought was possible. Don’t forget me though and please continue to be my angel; I know there’s enough of you to go around for everyone.

I love you still, sweetheart, and I’m so sorry.

Always, your brave Koa.”

[demri-parrott-staley-blog]

Demri Lara Parrott (February 22, 1969 – October 29, 1996) was the long-term companion of Layne Staley, original singer of Alice in Chains.

Early life

Parrott was born in Bremerton, Washington to Kathleen Austin and Dennis Dougherty on February 22, 1969. She had three brothers: Devin, Derek and David. She attended school in Arlington, Washington and dropped out in her Junior year. Some of her interests included philosophy, poetry, decoupage, art and theather. She also worked briefly as a model.

Later years

It's believed that Parrott met singer Layne Staley sometime in the late 1980s, as she is thanked in the liner notes of Alice in Chains' debut album Facelift (1990). She was widely believed to be the woman in the cover of the band's second album, Dirt, however, this was denied by her mother, and later revealed to be actress Mariah O'Brien.

During her relationship with Staley, both developed a heroin addiction. They got engaged in 1992, but split up sometime between 1993-94. Due to her drug usage, Parrott started having heart problems and went on several open-heart surgeries. She passed away on October 29, 1996 from endocarditis at Evergreen Hospital in Kirkland, Washington and is buried in the Ivy Green Cemetery in Bremerton. Staley passed away six years later, on April 5, 2002.

[faearchers]

this show was in SEPTEMBER and I’ve only just gotten around to posting photos!?

I think this look was my favorite. 

Photo: Drayke Larson/Photosynthetique

Model: Ochudo Cham 

Hair: Dre Demry-Sanders

Makeup: Dominique Spillman

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