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rockerchick1330 · 8 years ago

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~ Flower ~ A Chris Cornell fanfiction (Chapter 8)

Hi hunnies! So I hope you guys are enjoying this fanfic so far, and if you are, lemme know with some feedback and if you have any suggestions, just inform me ;-) Love you all! XOX!!! (PS we're back to Star's POV for now) Please excuse any errors, I had no time to read over xD I slouched on the cushion, sunken and dented due to various weights. My once chilled alcoholic beverage went warm, the red, plastic cup no longer dotted with beads of cold water. Though I was ringed with an array of familiar people, there still dwelled a forlornly ache internally. Wavering my drink, I twirled my wrist and observed as the pigmented fluid crept in circles around the lower, impressed ring of the cup. Constant chattering and occasional gossips suffocated me in a sea of laughter and conversations. I was basically levitating in a foggy epiphany of what the consequences or possible result of Chris and I could've been. His sudden heroine induce certainly perturbed me, it was impossible to achieve a mere hour of sweet slumber at night when contemplating. I knew he wouldn't have deliberated on abstaining from the drug if I had counselled or advised him. His ego deemed his choice right, whether the situation was critical or mild. He wouldn't have amended what was already casted, it was typical, definite Chris. Meditating in a ridiculously small, backstage region that was compacted and gushing with a sea of somewhat vague faces was difficult. What harried me all the more was my band's postponed performance, replacing our stage time with another, definitely not agile group. We weren't required to present until half of an entire hour past, permitting Tristan and Brandon to persuade an unnecessary gathering. A half or perhaps more of the booze was already consumed and drained by several, some of which we hadn't any acquaintance with but whom claimed to have a close relation. I gritted my teeth as the then current performers amplified their volume, assaulting my ears with their horrendous style of 'sleaze metal'. Their lead singer squawking lyrics in a haste, tripping over his pierced tongue in accordance to preserve timing with the over exaggerated guitar riffs. Without visual proof, I knew the bass player was the least interested, sweeping poorly over his probable out of tune strings and plucking them perfectly in the nonexistent time signal. I winced at the sloppy drummer, discreetly sharing a few of obvious, cliché rhythms amongst only a couple of the skins. With a lowered chin, I frowned to myself and fluctuated quite uncomfortably on the couch. Being choked in the extreme end of the three seat piece of furniture, I grimanced as another concupiscent couple intensely made out beside me. A frail, barely developed schoolgirl, embellished in ribbons and glitter to attract the ones she desired, stradled firmly on the lap of an intimidating, tattooed brute. His large, calloused hands already lurching up her revealing crop top and groping at her passionately. Her dainty, pale lady fingers laced with his lengthy ebony curls as muffled, muted moans emitted from her soft, pink lips. I avoided staring or even glimpsing too often at them, simply standing off the sofa with my considerably empty cup and trudging away. Shimming and shuffling through the overwhelming crowd, I managed to pry my way to an already overflowing garbage bin. Disposing of my cup, I was about to snap around when he sudden pair of hands contracted around my hips. Immediately spinning on my heels, my eyes met with his appeasing blue opponents. His dark, shimmering pupils nearly merging with his icy, webbed irises. His long, blonde locks of hair cascading down his broad shoulders and a lazy, certainly drunk, grin plastered across his slim lips. My chest heaved and I sighed in relief. "Oh, it's just you Jerry." Jerry Cantrell was better known by the public eye and the single guitarist in another, critically acclaimed Seattle band, Alice in Chains. To me personally, Jerry was a humorous, laid back individual, meek and mature enough to be seriously taken and comical and humorous enough to laugh along with. His uneven, side bang curtained over his pale complexion, making him rather prominent in the rapid current of people that waved. His golden locks were layered haphazardly, protruding and flaring the size of his actual hair. He was shirtless, religiously most moments, with his usual, black, glistening leather jacket shrugged on. I despised being so attracted to his alluring glow, but I was positive that many other teenage girls with raging hormones shared similar opinions as myself. He briefly licked his rosy lips, wiggling his sharp brows at me flirtatiously. "So, you excited to kick ass tonight babe?" I couldn't prevent from giggling, entertained by his contagious joy, absorbing all my occurring stresses then. "Ofcourse man, I can hardly wait," I winked, blithely poking his barely toned, but still visually pleasing, chest. "I know you guys are gonna rock!" He complimented, promoting the volume of his voice slightly louder since the crowd bickered and chatted more boisterous then. "Thanks dude-" I blushed foolishly with my cheeks already aching from my sincere smile. "Where's Layne and the other guys?" "Well, Layne and Sean are probably eating a fuck ton of chips and downing beers," the tall, handsome blonde snorted. "And Mike-" his head swiveled around briefly and his shoulders lurched, admitting. "I don't even fuckin' know where Mike is." I laughed in amusement, deciding to just tie the fray ends of our short conversation. "I'll see you after the show then dude," I casually sealed the communication. "Yeah, sure buttercup!" My eyes fluttered wide and my jaw went agape when the skyscraping guitarist reeled me into a child like hug. Snaking both his strong arms around my hips and ascending my firm stand on the floor, he spared a minute to waver me around whilst fondly cuddling his head perilously intimate to my chest region. "Oh shit-" I wheezed and laughed as he sharply contracted his strength. "O-Okay Jerry, that's enough." He released my figure abruptly, nearly allowing me to tumble to the ground, but steadying me enough to prevent the mishap. "I'll see ya babe!" he chimed merrily, not cringing at the mere awkwardness of his sudden palm pet on my head. Sifting back into the large group, I chuckled to myself, instantly being struck by reality's excruciating hammer. I suddenly ached to join Jerry once more due to his epidemic happiness that certainly smoothed the rough ridges of my scarred life. But I isolated myself from the toxic atmosphere, even though consuming people like a social parasite was one of my only few choices. With the ensuing performers still wrecking their set negatively, I inspected the ring of faces that crowned me. Ensuring all of my band mates were off, probably frolicking and gulping chemical courage down before the show, I stealthily slipped out of the room. Before me was nailed two separate alleys, one that lead to the stage and the other, to the back of the pub. My ideal decision was to go outside and practice regular breathing, smoke a cigar or two perhaps. With passersby still prancing around the corridors, my passageway was clotted with people, lined as ivoy dust on a druggie's table top. Scooting past a rather secluded cliche, I glimpsed at the entry door, cringing on properly surveying the Hair Metal disasters. Majority essentially wearing a patch or article of clothing either embellished with gems or cheetah print. Their hairdos exaggerated and massive from consistent, unhealthy teasing and hairspray, I gagged at the sight of their criminally horrible set list and overall sound. Glimpsing away from the conspicuous mess that lurked and jammed upon the stage, an uncomfortable churn wrenched in my stomach when I saw them. Probably the two most decent men seated in the club, proper, professional attire along with a glass of straight, smooth whiskey lodged in their hands. Opposing from the currently performing band then, both record executives heavily gelled and harshly slicked their trimmed hair down, permitting their prominent side burns to grow. I had already assumed the sheets of paper stapled together that they both scrolled and skimmed through was a business document. Rated R's business document. So engrossed by my epiphany of that faithful leap my band and I were soon to prepare for, I was immensely startled by the iron shackles that clamped on my waist from behind. Contemplating briefly if it was a genuine return from Jerry, I gulped hard, choking on the clump of fear that lingered in my throat. I knew Jerry, I knew how gentle and playful he was. That desperate, hungry grasp was beyond that, vague and unfamiliar to my knowledge. His bulky, muscular arms noose around me, decorated with faded tattoos on every single inch of his pale skin. His bruised, calloused hands, webbed with veins and other minor injuries. His marked wrists were cuffed with leather bracelets, some of which were beaded and studded with silver bullets. I was petrified then, his body so close to mine, I shifted on his lower situation. Adjusting his arms, I finally noticed an extremely thin thread of crimson blood streaming down near his inner elbow. I furrowed my brows and creased my lips into a firm line when I realized the colony of track marks that dotted his skin. Several scarred and sealed with oxygenated blood but majority large and ugly, probably executed in a fit of anger. His internal veins were violet, indigo with substance abuse. Similar to Chris'. "Hey baby," his hot breath fanned against my ear as he purred it like a venomous drug. Shivers alternated up and down my spine as shudders thrilled my trembling shoulder blades. "Like the show?" The moment he loosened his prison like shackles, I took advantage of his hospitality, switching around for a vivid angle of his face. The heavily applied eyeliner that infested his waterline, his blow dried, auburn locks and that coy smile twitching on his chapped, cracking lips. All the familiarities rung several carillon of bells. His frame was monstrous, every muscle bulging and throbbing from consistent drug injection. My mouth pried open on comprehending who the aged junkie was. I felt my heart palpitating, pounding against the caged bones of my ribs and creeping into my contracting throat. I grounded my teeth and fisted my trembling hands, attempting to discreetly seclude my absolutly horrified ghast. It was the python that preyed on me earlier that day, lounging on Stacy's porch whilst scanning the neighborhood. "You," I bitterly choked, shuffling back slightly to permit an appropriate breath of space between us. He chortled maniacally, the rush of evil naturally poisoning his disease ridden blood. "Star, right?" He inquired, scraping his stained tongue against the scaly flesh of his lips as his eyes lingered on my figurine. The liquid beneath my skin crawled as it resulted in the increase of terror lumped in my gullet. I refused to offer him the liberty to converse, simply glaring at his appearance with absolute abhorrence. He peeled every last article of clothing I was cloaked in with his hungry eyes, smirking slyly on the outcome of my alleged nudity. "Stacy told me you were in a band," he continued, excusing my lack of vocals. "I dig sexy bitches, like yourself, especially when their musicians." He shifted closer and my chest heaved. I was terrified, internally screaming at the extreme apex of my lungs. He utilized his ridiculous strength, slamming my rather delicate body in comparison to his against the nearest plane. A breath hitched in my throat and I squeaked in discomfort as his gnarly hands migrated to my puckering backside. "I dig singers sweetheart," he chuckled seductively as the swam of passersby occasionally snuck glimpses at us. I flinched when he brought he gravitated towards me, caressing my bouncy hair as his lips merely brushed against my earlobe. I furrowed my brows and prevented from shrilling, too afraid that he may have physically retaliated. "They're the loudest screamers in bed." I writhed at his sinister hiss, emitting what alternated between a sob and whimper from my mid chest. "I could just imagi-" "Hey! Decker!" The intruder snarled hotly, making me whine in reaction to his sudden, increasingly painful grip. Whipping around, I sharply gasped when my nostrils were freed of his assaulting, purtrid cologne concoction. Recognizing the savior, truging down the corridor with his chin held high in pride, I sighed in sweet relief. "Mike!" I exclaimed, not intending for my consoled cry to be so bold. The bass player slumped his shoulders, flickering his chin at me subtly to signal my presence beside him. With the auburn snake still trading firece glares amongst the entire posse, I slipped and hastily sprinted to Mike, aligning on his right. "What are you doing Decker?" The defensive bassist growled, removing both his knuckle armed fists from his torn pockets. "You're messin' with a chick who has the whole fuckin' crew on her side." Decker, as Mike addressed the steaming, wretched fiend as, clenched his squared jaw firmly, grinding his lower dentures against his upper. He seemingly huffed a plume of invisible, heated vapor through his flared nostrils, scoffing arrogantly. "Really? She's a little bitchy girl, how do you guys tolerate her ass?" His insult boiled my blood, hot enough to singe my inner organs and burn flesh. "Fuck off dude, one more incident like that and you'll be answering to all the dudes," Mike barked in retort. Glimpsing once more at my still briskly shaking figure, he threaded his tongue against his the stained enamel of his teeth. He snapped around and faltered back into the crowd, abandoning Mike and I. Turning to courageous, sincere brunette, I crookedly smiled at his usual attire. His hair defiant and wild, cascading down his slugged shoulders and curtaining his face. His oversized, patched up denim jacket thrown atop his black Ramones tee and a pair of muddy combat boots strapped onto his either of his feet. "Thank you s-" "Don't mention it babe," he interrupted, gently patting the higher region of my back with his palm. "That's what friends are for, to kick anyone's ass." With a wide grin plastered across my lips, I shuffled slightly due to the still spurting corridor of people. Occasionally bumping or nudging me, majority by accident, minority for ignorant amusement. "I was actually gonna take a smoke out back-" I explained to him, suggesting him to accompany me. "Wanna come?" Shrugging and returning the beaming smile, he nodded. "Sure, let's go." Mike was undeniably attractive, slightly more stockier than Jerry, but equally as handsome. The apathetic shimmer that permanently embellished his chestnut irises, the way his smirk was angled. The list varied on and even additional traits lengthened it. His frizzy hair was obviously blow dried, it was certainly a large puff of curls bouncing on his head. Narrowing the space between us as we skimmed through the hallway, he amiably swung the door open, flashing the large, bold 'EXIT' notification nailed onto it. I skipped outside, finally free of the constricted crowd, loud and irritating, to escape into a perfect scenery of the setting, afternoon sun. "So, how's life kiddo?" He disturbed the pleasing silence with no horrid intentions. Attempting to my very full extent to ignore my nagging subconscious mind, I lurched my shoulders and sighed. "Good I guess, what 'bout you?" The brunette bassist frowned slightly, scrunching his pudgy nose up sickeningly adorable, almost making me coo in admiration. "It's, there," he scoffed, awkwardly fiddling with the rusted silver chain that was attached to the loops of his denim jeans. "What do you mean?" I questioned with concern, knitting my eyebrows tightly and filtering my smile into a similar frown. I attentively analyzed his situation whilst dipping my hand into the fitted back pocket of my bottoms. "I don't know, it's just real shit sometimes," he mumbled, his full lips pursing and his eyes adverting to the thin crack that differentiated the cermented ground. Fishing my carton of cigarettes out, I scowled at the spewing dumpster whose contents rustled with each sweep of the cool breeze. "I know what you mean man," I admitted, inspecting the cherry red packaging of the cigars to distract myself. "Got a light?" In a matter of seconds, a creamy white Bic lighter was sitting on my fingers, threatening to slip out amongst the gaps. But with my amateur reflexes, I managed to catch the tossed object. Lodging the blunt in my parted lips and gently clenching it with my teeth, I noticed Mike's sudden converted stare. His once casual flickering eyes snapped into a rather alluring glare, peppered with sensual desires. "Am I meat?" I lowly giggled, igniting the tip of the cigarette as he raked my figure. "Aren't you used to guys staring by now?" He asked, his inquiry fueled with angst. "You're really hot if you didn't realize." I grimanced at the ironic smile that twitched on his lips, exhaling a thin plume of smoke. "It makes me uncomfortable," I confessed quietly, offering him the cancer stick. Graciously taking upon the grant, he grasped it between his thumb and index digits, levitating it to his lips. "It does?" He genuinely seemed disoriented before hollowing out his chubby cheeks whilst sucking an inch of nicotinic content it. "I thought chicks like you loved that." "Like me?" I snorted, tilting my hips and crossing my arms on my teasing cleavage. "What's that supposed to mean?" He immediately sprouted his hands in surrender, quickly defending his justification. "No, I don't mean that in a bad way-" he spat, taming my whipping flames. "I just meant chicks who are in bands." "You really think that?" I snorted, cocking a brow as he gestured the blunt back to me. "Well, all the ones I know, especially the musicians, are like that," he muttered, apparently remorseful on nudging way to the topic. "They crave the attention since the 'Seattle Scene' bullshit is only guys." I comprehended his point with enough knowledge to know that the music industry then was mainly dominated by men. "You know how special I am then," I winked tauntingly at him whilst dragging at the lingering cigar. He laughed in reply, his eyes crinkling like they normally did, emitting a string of laughter from myself. "Yeah totally babe-" he snickered, flinging his arms around. "What's your secret?" My virginity. "Control," I lied, tasting it sour on my taste buds. "Well fuck, share some of that 'control' shit with me," he grunted, earning another fit of bubbling giggles from me. "I can't control one shit," he snorted, entertaining me all the more. "Once Mike Jr here-" I stifled another obnoxious laugh within my fluttering stomach when he directed his attention to his sufficient crotch area. "Gets excited, all hell breaks loose." Firing another cigarette up and dragging nearly a quart of it out in his alpha pull, he flickered the greyed, crumbling ashes off. "You probably get all the girls screaming when you play on stage," I teased, briefly poking my tongue out in order to enhance the taunt. He wriggled his brows as I endured in a final, unfamiliar moment of leisure with him. Never had I thought joy would've been surging through my veins and capillaries ever again unless I was prancing around on stage. "Tell me about it baby," he retorted with spunk, brushing the nonexistent, but comical, pride off his shoulder. Mike and I grew fond of our constant bonding, reluctant to return inside to the flustering tidal waves of strangers and few allies. But when Cyd scrambled through the door with a pale, flushed face and an anxious whirl in her body, I knew it was time to Rock 'N' Roll...

#chris cornell #soundgarden #pearl jam #alice in chains #90s #grunge #fanfiction

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jessicakehoe · 6 years ago

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8 Under-the-Radar Movies of the Past Decade

If the Oscar buzz and post Golden Globes high have you craving some must see movie options, but you’ve already seen all the top films of 2018 — and you’ve seen all the award show favourites and blockbuster darlings from the past ten years. Here are some of the cinematic gems you might have missed. A blend of all genres, these flicks will make you think like a film critic and recommend like one too. So put on your pjs, pop some popcorn, and set your socials to “away”. Then grab the best seat in the house and get your Netflix, Crave, Prime, blu ray, or VHS player going. Enjoy.

Electrick Children (2012)

A story of self-discovery, youth, and abuse of power, chaos ensues as main character Rachel, naive and unexpectedly pregnant, heads on a journey to Vegas to find the “father” of her miracle baby. She believes the baby to be the result of her listening to forbidden technology: a cassette tape with a singular rock song recorded on its ribbon. This quirky film starring Ozark and Maniac’s Julia Garner as she veers away from her sheltered Mormon youth and towards a life of love and rock and roll is a must watch if you are looking for a film with heart, depth, and gut wrenching reveals. Not to mention, a fantastic pair of red sunglasses.

Ruby Sparks (2012)

Ruby Sparks is Paul Dano at his charmingly awkward best. As a child prodigy turned writer’s blocked novelist, lead character Calvin is lonely, anxious, and stuck. At his lowest point, he creates Ruby, played by indie queen Zoe Kazan. She is a sweet, spontaneous woman who lives in the pages of his work in progress — until she doesn’t. Somehow written into real life, Ruby is Calvin’s perfect woman, because she does exactly what he writes her to do. A film about acknowledging your situation and learning to accept help, Ruby Sparks is funny, frustrating, and sad all at once. If you are looking for a love story that doesn’t just step outside the box, but breaks it entirely, this is the film for you.

Take Shelter (2011)

A beautiful and heart wrenching film about mental illness, Take Shelter is the story of Curtis, a family man who starts to experience hallucinations and nightmares of a terrible storm. Fearing for the wellbeing of his wife and deaf daughter, but also his own mental state, he struggles with the choice of seeking help or believing in his visions. The film is ambiguous in many ways, but clear in its message. Whether or not things are real or in our heads, we are justified in our feelings. As an added bonus, you’ll learn some sign language, and at the very least never forget “storm.”

What We Do in the Shadows (2014)

This movie is ridiculous, but heartwarming. A mockumentary that follows the lives of three vampire roommates in New Zealand, What We Do in the Shadows explores how it feels to be an outsider, and the value of finding friends who understand. Fans of Flight of the Conchords will find a friendly face in the absurd Jermaine Clement who both stars in and directs the strange film. The plot summary says it all “Viago, Deacon and Vladislav are vampires who are finding that modern life has them struggling with the mundane — like paying rent, keeping up with the chore wheel, trying to get into nightclubs and overcoming flatmate conflicts.” It is strangely relatable, and a great recommendation for those who need a good laugh.

The Babadook (2014)

On a darker note, for fans of horror The Babadook is not only terrifying, but terrifyingly clever. A metaphor for mental illness, this story of an overwhelmed single mother and her struggling child is haunting, even without the monster. If you enjoy a good jump scare, but are looking for a bit more depth, this film is for you. Just be prepared to fear any knock on your door for a few days.

It’s Kind of a Funny Story (2010)

Fans of Netflix’s Atypical will recognize Keir Gilchrist in this powerful film about mental illness and empathy. As Craig, a clinically depressed teenager who checks himself into an adult psychiatric ward, Gilchrist reminds viewers that it’s okay to not be okay. Despite the heavy subject matter, it’s kind of an extremely funny movie. Especially with an all-star like Zach Galifianakis along for the ride. It’s Kind of a Funny Story is perfect if you’re looking for a movie that will make you cry and spark intense conversations about mental health, while simultaneously making you pee your pants with laughter.

Seeking a Friend for the End of the World (2012)

Steve Carell might be better known for The Office and The Forty Year Old Virgin, but this hidden gem co-starring Keira Knightley is well worth your time. With days to live until an asteroid destroys earth, Dodge, abandoned by his wife after hearing the terrifying news, goes out in search of his high school sweetheart. What he finds is his quirky neighbour, Penny and the unlikely pair trek together while teaching each other lessons about spontaneity, understanding, and love. Keep tissues close by for this one. You won’t be able to distinguish when you’re laughing from when you’re crying — they’ll just start to blend.

About Time (2013)

Love Actually fans will rejoice at the fact that this film is made by the same creator. Meaning, it will also likely make you snort, cry, and sigh consistently throughout. This time featuring the English countryside, About Time gives you lots of views of beautiful beaches and cliffs and will make you briefly consider spending your days drinking tea and wearing rain boots. That being said, plot wise, the film is far from traditional. It’s about self-controlled time travel, and similarly to Mr. Nobody, how the choices we make have a ripple effect. Tim, the main character, learns this quickly as he navigates young adult life with the added complication of controlling the future. Magical elements aside, it’s as relatable and emotional as a conventional rom-com.

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8 Under-the-Radar Movies of the Past Decade published first on https://borboletabags.tumblr.com/

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jessicakehoe · 6 years ago

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8 Under-the-Radar Movies of the Past Decade

Electrick Children (2012)

Ruby Sparks (2012)

Take Shelter (2011)

What We Do in the Shadows (2014)

The Babadook (2014)

It’s Kind of a Funny Story (2010)

Seeking a Friend for the End of the World (2012)

About Time (2013)

The post 8 Under-the-Radar Movies of the Past Decade appeared first on FASHION Magazine.

8 Under-the-Radar Movies of the Past Decade published first on https://borboletabags.tumblr.com/

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