#grungefic

[jjmichie]

In Too Deep:  Chapter 4a

Fiction.  Smut warning.  NSFW

If you missed Chapter 4, it can be found here

They both held their breath as they listened to the commotion in the office.  Stone could hear his own heart pounding, practically drowning out the noise on the other side of the door.  Molly was still pressed against him, her hands on his chest. 

They heard two voices.  Female voices.  A desk drawer open, then close.  Then footsteps.  And finally, they heard the front door open. 

And close. 

“Ahh . .” Molly breathed out and looked at her watch.  “That must have just been the interns.  Kelly and Jeff only left five minutes ago.  I didn’t think they could be back so soon.”  

“No, but,” Stone started.  

“Now where were we?”  she whispered.   And ran her hand down his stomach.  She lifted his T-shirt, and slid her hand under it, exploring his stomach and chest.  It made him jump. 

“Anyone could come back . . .” Stone protested, grabbing her hand. 

“I know . . .” she gently bit his lower lip.  “That’s what makes it exciting.”  

“Molly I don’t think –” 

“Shhhh.”  She cupped her hand over his mouth, pried her other one free, and began rubbing the front of his jeans.  

He closed his eyes, his back still against the locked door, where she had pushed him.  Her hand began rubbing faster, sliding deeper between his legs and over his zipper.  He had already started to get hard, the moment she had first touched his back, and he was sure she could feel it, bulging against the front of his pants.  

“Mmm,” she whispered, her fingers tracing the outline of him.  She could definitely feel it.  She gently rattled the hand that was over his mouth.  “If I let go, you’ll be quiet, right?”  

He nodded.  

Now using both hands, she undid his belt, and opened his jeans, struggling to get the zipper down over his hardness.  Then she pulled his jeans down, along with his underwear, down around his thighs. He was totally exposed.  

He bit down hard on his lip, still listening intently through the door, still in disbelief that this was happening.  His cock was throbbing unbearably now even though she wasn’t touching him. He could feel her eyes on him and he grew even harder.  Fuck. Anybody could come back.  At any minute.  

She softly knelt down in front of him, and he opened his eyes.  He had to look.  He had to watch.  She was really going to do this.  But opening his eyes, he couldn’t help but see the room, the familiarity of his manager’s office, the phone, the pictures of Kelly’s wife and baby, Mother Love Bone flyers on the desk and posters on the wall which seemed to be staring at him. A rush of horror and exhilaration filled him.  

“Hey . . .down here,” she smiled, meeting his eyes, and took him in her hand and gave him a punishing squeeze. Then she began feeling his shaft all the way up from the base to the end. “Your cock is adorable,” she said, and kissed the little hole at the tip.  

He felt his face flushing, blood rushing to it as much as it was to his crotch.  

Slowly, slowly, her bewitching eyes still on him, she started circling her tongue around the tip, watching him respond, watching him pant, watching him go insane.  Then she pushed her whole mouth onto him, her lips spreading as she took him in deep, her tongue still circling.  Holy fuck.  Then she slid back, still watching him, and began repeating the motion, pulling him in and out. 

“Molly . . .” he moaned, feeling light-headed, watching himself disappear over and over into her.  

Her mouth firmly on him, she explored his body with her hands, one running up his abdomen, letting his pubic hair slide between her fingers, and the other snaking around to feel his bare ass. She rubbed it in circular motion several times, before giving it a little spank.  She giggled when he jumped, smiling with her eyes while her mouth still suctioned on his cock.  pulling him closer to her, sliding his length down her throat.  Jesus fuck, he was going to come any second.  

Molly seemed to sense his imminent eruption, and let him have it. She moved her hand back to his shaft, sliding it faster now in rhythm with her mouth, as she sucked him off.  Unrelenting, as he got closer and closer, his cock now burning and tingling so badly he wanted to scream.  

“Ohhhh,” he couldn’t help but groan mindlessly as he glanced up to meet Jeff’s eyes on the poster.  Her hand and mouth still pumping him with no mercy, he felt himself explode.  “Ahhhhgggmmmmfff!”  he bit his lip again to silence himself, as he saw his mess spill over her hands and lips.  

But she kept it under control, slowing down to finish him off with a gentle suck and stroke that brought him back down to earth in waves of bliss, swallowing what she could and cupping the overflow in her hand.  She grabbed a tissue off the desk to hide the evidence, crumpling it into a garbage can by Kelly’s desk, while he tried to regain his breath.  

She stood up, fixing his pants on her way.  

“Good boy,” she whispered. 

[loverockawaitsyou]

700 views so far on my longfic! Don’t worry about it! I am working on getting a new chapter in within the week!

[aboysbestfriendishismum]

Chapter 58 - The deal, the name and the prince (Part Two)

In the previous chapter: Angie has a weird nightmare about her future, where she becomes the author of fantasy-themed chick-flick novels, and she’s awakened by a phone call by Eddie. He reminds her it’s finally Friday, that is the day they’ll finally tell their friends about their relationship. Ater disappearing for some time, to think about what Grace had told him, Stone shows up at her workplace to and they talk things out. Angie and Eddie kiss in he streets outside her condo and they believe Jeff, Mike and Dave, who were in the van waiting for them to go to the Ok Hotel for their show, saw them and now are surely talking about them. Once they get to the van though, they find out they’re discussing the latest episode of Twin Peaks.

***

Pink. They're turning pink. My purple highlights are slowly but inevitably waning into sad off-brand bubble-gum pink, whereas the blue dye is fading out completely to my old boring dark brown. I'm here, squatting over the toilet, examining the locks of hair falling in front of my face, lightedy by the buzzing light of the Ok Hotel's restroom. I flush the toilet and pull up my pants and then I can hear the sound of the club's music going up and down straight away, followed by chattering and laughing sounds of female voices. Somebody else got in so I'll just stay here some more. I don't know why but I don't like meeting other people when I get out of the bathroom, it makes me nervous. I have nothing against going to the bathroom in three, five, ten girls all together, but if I have to pee, I'm the one who always goes last and tells the others to go first and that she'll meet them later outside. I can't use this system with strangers, especially in public toilet rooms in clubs with never ending queues outside the door. What do I do then? Either I hold my pee or I give up, trying to avoid eye contact with the girl getting in after me, who surely doesn't give a damn about me and just wants to fuckin' pee. This time though, it's early, the show has yet to start and the restroom was empty, at least until these people got in. Who knows how many are they? From the voices they seem three, I won't have to wait for that long. I just hope none of them will start wondering why the door of my stall is locked.

“Have you already heard these Pearl Jam guys play?” my ears don't miss the question asked by one of them since I'm focusing on their conversation, until now only to understand when they'd leave, but now even more interested.

“Not yet, but Emma did, right?” another voice, a little higher-pitched than the previous one, replies.

“Yeah, and the singer is so fuckin' hot!” the third voice has a vague Boston accent, I can't decide if it's a real accent the girl's trying to hide or a fake one she's putting up on purpose, I don't know why. And the accent is the first thing that catches my attention, more than what she actually says.

“Well, you don't need to hear him sing to say that, you just need eyes to look” the first voice chuckles.

“Yeah, he looks fine if you just see him around but on a stage? He's much sexier. You'll see and you'll agree with me”

“He's not bad but I'm more oriented towards the bass player” voice number two chimes in again but her friends immediately drown it out.

“We know, we know!”

“You've been oriented like that since Green River, maybe it's time to change your orientation since you've been getting no chance in hell, what do you think?”

“He'll be single once again sooner or later, won't he? He won't marry Miss Perfection, I mean...” the harmless, and after all kind of flattering, nickname these chicks just gave my friend bothers me a little, unlike their appreciation of Eddie. Actually I'm almost... pleased? By what they say? Yes, pleased. Am I normal or what?

“Aim for the accessible single ones in the band, trust me” Emma-maybe-Boston tries to discourage her friend from her crush on Jeff.

“That is the guitar player only”

“Who? Stone? Hasn't he recovered from his fucked up relationship with Psycho Valerie yet? Or you mean the other one?”

“The other one. Stone has a girlfriend, he must have found a new trust in women”

“Or he's just keeping this girl at a safe distance from his guitars hehehe”

Ok who's Valerie? I must remember to ask Meg.

“So the only ones left are the lead guitar and the singer. You're taking the guitar player”

“The singer isn't single”

“Isn't he?” “Really?” the other two ask at the same time.

“No, he has a girlfriend back home waiting for him or who's about to come and move out here with him, it depends on how it goes with the band”

“Where is he from?”

“California, don't know where exactly”

“Los Angeles”

“Shut up. Do you believe someone who wants to make music for a living would leave LA, which is like the center of the world where everything happens, and come to fuckin' Seattle? I've heard he's from near San Francisco”

“NO, SAN DIEGO” in the heat of the moment I almost can't understand who the fourth voice belongs to, then here comes the realization: it's me, coming out of the stall, basically screaming.

“And you... how do you know? Who are you?” now that I look at the trio I see they're nothing like I imagined. Voice number one, who's sort of the gang leader to me, is as tall as me, skinny and all eyes, big beautiful green eyes, dark hair pulled up in a tight high ponytail, giant loop earrings. Boston girl looks like she just came out from an episode of Baywatch, blonde, blue eyes, body of a model squeezed in a black mini-dress. Jeff's fan with the high pitched voice is the tallest one, a swimmer's body with broad shoulders highlighted by a strapless tube top, dark eyes, hook nose that gives and exotic and charming air.

“I know because I know him” I shrug as I bend over the sink to wash my hands, focusing my whole attention on the fuckin' pink strands in my hair in the mirror.

“Wait... yeah, I think I saw you with Stone and Jeff's friend, the blond chick who works at Roxy's... how is she called?”

“Meg, she's my roommate” I answer to the boss looking at her through the mirror.

“Do you know Jeff? Does he still have a girlfriend?”

“Hehe yes, I'm sorry”

“See, I told you!”

“I'll fall back on the singer then, his girlfriend is in San Diego, it's an out-of-sight-out-of-mind situation, she'll never know”

“He's not with that girl anymore, they broke up when he moved here” I stop here before adding any more intimate and unrequested details, although I have a senseless and sudden will to give them all out to these girls.

“SEE? HE'S SINGLE THEN!”

“I knew that”

“Actually... he's dating another girl, a girl here in Seattle” and that would be me and it's like I'm desperate to tell them, but why? What's happening to me? Am I becoming jealous? I told Eddie his jealousy towards Jerry made no sense but at least that had some factual basis. After all Jerry's my ex, he came over looking for me and we spent some time alone in a small enclosed space. These are just some random girls who've only said Eddie's cute. Thanks a lot. He is. It's only natural they like him. Why am I talking then?

“And who's she?”

“Well, dating someone is not like putting a ring on their finger”

“What's his name anyway?”

“Yeah, right, what's his name?”

“Eddie”

“And what's Eddie like? I mean, as a guy, is he nice?”

“He's...” he's sweet, sexy, funny, shy, crazy, romantic, goofy, protective, quiet, clumsy, smart, passionate, practical, loyal, honest, reliable and other 800 adjectives more, which come to my mind and I keep to myself”... he's ok, he doesn't talk much, but he's cool”

“A hot guy who doesn't speak much: the perfect man” the blond girl states and all three of them laugh.

In the meantime I keep on washing my hands and if I go on like this I'll get webbed fingers soon. I turn off the tap and shake the water off my hands in the sink before heading up to the dryer hanging on the wall next to the door, feeling three pairs of eyes on me.

“Can you introduce us to him?” the beanpole asks me when I already have one hand on the door handle and I'm about to leave.

“Sure!” I smile at them and I'm still trying to decipher my behaviour when I get out of the bathroom, followed by the gang of three, and who do I find standing right there, one hand in his pocket and the other one holding a full glass?

“Hey, there you are finally! I was getting worried. Was there a queue?” he asks, noticing I'm not the only one coming out of the restroom. I walk up to him, my hands are still kind of wet so I rub them on the legs of my jeans, I'm conscious I have the trio's eyes still on me and then I do something honestly uncomprehensible: I throw my arms around Eddie's neck and kiss him like I had last kissed him last month and not twenty minutes ago, backstage, trying to get some kind of reaction out of Stone and Dave, who right at that moment were not looking at us though. What's wrong with me? Have I become a showoff?

“I was chatting with the girls” I back up from his lips, steal the beer from his hands and take a sip, then I turn around to face the trio of dropped jaws behind my back.

“He doesn't talk much but makes himself clear” the leader is the one who breaks the ice and makes her friends, and me I must admit, giggle.

“Very clear, I see” the tall girl adds.

“Haha come on, let's go. Bye Eddie, good luck with the show!” Boston vamp takes the other two by the hands and they all say bye and leave.

“Bye Eddie!”

“God, we made fuckin' fools of ourselves”

“Why? We said nothing bad after all”

“It was embarrassing though...”

I follow their conversation as long as I can and when the girls are out of my radar, I turn back around and find Eddie's perplexed eyes staring at me.

“Do you know them?”

“More or less. Come on, let's go, you're up next soon”

Eddie and I part ways after a kiss right in front of the stage, after we noticed Meg coming our way. Anyway when we end the kiss we see she's more focused on cursing against a guy, who's guilty of bumping into her and almost spilling his drink on her new t-shirt, rather than looking at us and noticing our public display of affection. Eddie shrugs, nods at Meg and goes backstage to get ready for the concert.

“You can stop pretending you know nothing about Eddie and I now”

“Really? Ok but that jerk really wasn't even looking where he was going!” she searches for the stranger in the crowd but he's already gone and disappeared.

“Yeah, we decided to tell everybody. I mean, to let people know. Stop hiding, you know”

“Uh! So is that why you're randomly making out all around the club?”

“Shut up!”

“Right, maybe you didn't stick your tongue into his throat right under the mixer station. And not even in front of the restrooms”

“Hahaha stop it! Anyway, ehm, it actually happened in front of the restrooms, also”

“HA!”

“Talking about that... I need counselling... with Dr Meg”

“Uhm”

“You know I don't like to take advantage of your psychology studies”

“Very poor studies”

“And of your great and not academic only enthusiasm for the subject but... I'm weird and I need you to tell me why I'm weird”

“Ok so, first of all thank you for your surely mistaken trust in me, because it must be huge if you think what I know is enough to solve the Angelina Pacifico's enigma”

“I'm being serious”

“And I'm also flattered, 'cause usually it's me intruding your private life trying to analyze you and make you reason BUT this time it's you asking me spontaneously. I feel tears coming out of my eyes”

“I acted strange earlier and I can't say why”

“Ok, shoot”

I ignore her sarcasm, even though I appreciate it, and tell her everything about the three girls I met at the bathroom, while she listens to me in unnatural silence. Unnatural both for her, 'cause honestly I don't think I've ever heard her keeping her mouth shut for so long, and for the place, a crowded bar full of people, voices and sounds, I mean, pure chaos.

“So? What's wrong with me? Am I jealous like Eddie? Is jealousy contagious? Or have I just become a bitch?”

“Is Eddie jealous?”

“Yep. Well, yeah, a little” I don't wanna talk about this right now, maybe next time.

“Healthy amount of jealousy”

“Healthy... I mean, what's healthy? Jealousy is not healthy, it's stupid. And it looks I'm getting stupid too”

“I don't completely agree with you about that. Anyway your scene has got nothing to do with jealousy, my dear”

“No?”

“OH no, that's not jealousy, I'll tell you what it is. It's three things”

“Three?”

“Number one: you're pedantic”

“Romantic?” I can't hear shit in the noisy crowd with the loud music on.

“I said PEDANTIC! You're pedantic, you can't help it. If someone says a wrong thing you gotta correct them, nothing can hold you back, not even your pathological shyness. Had it been a matter of jealousy, you'd have jumped out immediately, insulting them and telling those three to keep their hands off your man. Instead you just stayed there, locked inside that stinky stall listening to those girls drooling after your boyfriend until they've started churning out incorrect facts. That's when you lost it, you had to speak up and give them the truth”

“So I put myself at the center of the attention only to lecture them?”

“Not just that but also for that. In this you and Stone are the fuckin' same, let me tell you. You're scarily the same”

“Shut up, you give me the creeps!”

“Number two: you're seeking approval”

“Approval?”

“Everybody wants to be liked, but someone wants it more than others, especially those with a wobbly self-esteem”

“What's self-esteem?”

“If you were jealous, you'd describe those three like sluts or ugly monsters of both, but you didn't. It almost seems like you liked them”

“Because I did, I liked them”

“Exactly. Three nice funny girls who shared a common interest with you, without knowing. You told them you knew Eddie because deep inside you wanted them to accept you and approve you”

“Oh”

“Number three... well, number three is my favourite”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. Because, Angie, my friend, I'm glad to tell you that at the venerable age of 18”

“And a half”

“Eighteen and a half...” she corrects herself rolling her eyes “... after all this time, you finally learned one of the main concept of life, as well as one of the most pleasurable feelings”

“That is?”

“Hahahaha showing off, of course”

“Showing off? I've never shown off anything in my whole life!” maybe just a couple of seconds, that infamous unlucky night, with the waitress of Canlis restaurant, waiting for Jerry. And see what happened next.

“That's why I said it took you a few years to get cocky...”

“Getting cocky for what then?”

“Because Eddie's your boyfriend!”

“And what's with me? It's not like I did anything, it's not a merit, it's not something one merits and shows off like a medal!”

“That's what yo say but your subconscious thinks differently. Think about it, you found approval from your new friends and when you saw Eddie you could have just introduce them to him briefly and just leave with him, but you didn't. You aimed right at Vedder and kissed him right in front of them, knowing exactly you'd have made their jaw drop. And don't even try to tell me it just came out like that and you didn't think for a second about their reaction because I won't fuckin' believe you”

“Well, actually, ok, yeah, I thought of it, a little...”

“You're with the guy they all liked, that's the ultimate approval, almost a consacration”

“I show off for no valid reason, what have I become”

“Don't overreact now, please!”

“I'm a horrible person!”

“Angie-drama starting in 3, 2, 1...” Meg counts down with her fingers inches from ny nose.

“Can't you understand? It means I treated Eddie like an object, like a bargaining chip”

“You're with a cute guy and you rubbed it in those girls' faces a little, it's not like anyone died or something!”

“A trophy to nurture my self-confidence”

“You're making it worse and bigger than it actually is. That is, as you always do”

“A decent guy gives a fuck about me and my head gets big all of a sudden?”

“A decent guy gives a fuck about you, you're a couple and you don't have to hide for any reason. When was the last time it happened to you?”

“Err... quite some time?” a normal relationship? I'd say it's been years. Anyway, have I ever had a normal relationship at all?

“You're with the singer of a fucking cool band everybody's talking about in town, I'd scream it at the face of everyone I meet. Listen to me: aren't you proud of Eddie and what he's doing with the band?”

“Yeah”

“So you're proud and your showing, like you showed those three”

“Sucking face with Eddie right in front of them?”

“Exactly. By the way, considering you're sucking face with him in every corner of this place, they'd have seen you anyway sooner or later”

“Not necessarily, especially if they're as watchful as our friends, who haven't noticed yet”

“Or maybe they noticed but just want to be discreet”

“Discretion? Stone?”

“Well, thinking about it...”

“Talking about Stone; who's Valerie?”

“OH MY GOD, VALERIE?? WHERE IS SHE?!”

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

“It's so weird to me that everybody hates the Kingdome. I mean, that's your stadium!” since I came here in Seattle I've never met a single sports fan who hasn't complained about the stadium or easily dismissed it as a simple location that's not so much loved by the citizens. Jerry is no exception, as we talk at the bar waiting for our drinks.

“It's not like we hate it, it's just it could be better, you know? Surely it doesn't suck as much for footbal as for baseball. Or maybe it's just a matter of different point of views: if the Mariners didn't play like shit, it would be the place of the heart, like Wrigley Field for Chicago hehe”

“Sacrilege! I've never been there yet, I gotta go and see” I playfully push him away and grab the glass the barman has just given to me. Cantrell does the same and says thanks with a nod since I buyed him the drink and keeps on talking.

“I walked into the field, actually I ran on it! Six years ago, no, seven, when the Seahawks beat Raiders 13 to 7 at the Wild Card Game and the supporters stormed the field at the end. The following week we'd fuck it all up and Miami would destroy us but in that moment we believed we could make it! Anyway the people is what makes the Kingdome good”

“The twelfth man, right?” I nod and as I look around I casually make eye contact with Angie, who's not so far.

“Yep, other than that and the adrenaline, the field itelf sucks, it seemed to walk on concrete covered with green carpet”

“Wrigley though, I'd sleep on that field...” I look the same direction as before but I can't see my girlfriend anymore “On the bleachers too”

“At the Kingdome you can sleep well too, the roof protects you when it rains. Some parts of it might break and fall onto your head but how bad can it be?” Jerry chuckles and sips his whiskey but he almost chokes on it, and I do too, when someone casually appears between us from out of nowhere and basically yells into our ears.

“HI GUYS! ARE YOU HAVING FUN??”

“Jesus! Hey Angie, uhm yeah, sure” Jerry gives her a perplexed look whereas I instinctively put my arm around her shoulders.

“WHY?”

“What do you mean why?”

“I mean, uhm, you know, what for? What are you talking about?”

“Baseball” I answer probably with star-shaped eyes, just like every time I think about my favourite sport.

“And football” Cantrell adds then drinks up his whiskey with one last sip.

“Sports uh? A typical conversation between male friends...”

“Not necessarily betwe-” I'm about to argue with the idea sport is an exclusively male interest when my colleague interrupts me.

“Now I think I gotta go and find Sean. I saw Layne with Demri before so I think they made up and he'll go to her place so I probably have to go home with my drummer. See ya!”

“See you!” I say bye as he leaves with his hands in his pockets and Angie does the same but in a louder voice.

“BYE! Ok, what's going on? What's wrong?” she addresses me right away with an extremely serious expression on her face.

“What's going on? Nothing's wrong”

“What were you talking about for real?”

“What do you mean? Sports, we told you”

“Sure. And I'm Doris Sams” she folds her arms and gives me a side look.

“Are you a secret baseball player as well by any chance?” I let go of her, I fold my arms too and look at her suspiciously.

“No”

“I can't believe it! We gotta go out and throw a ball sometimes”

“I can't play! But I know the game and I know a couple of history facts, I remind you my dad is a fan of basically all the sports”

“I don't know... you're very good at pretending not to be able to do things, aren't you?”

“And you and your friend are very good at pretending nothing's happening and changing the topic of the conversation at the right time, aren't you?”

“My friend?”

“Jerry... well, friend, sort of...”

“We were really talking about the Kingdome”

“Sure. And the debate was so animated you even shoved him”

“Haha I gave him a little nudge, as a joke”

“Oh you were just kidding, of course”

“Angie, I don't know what's going on in your head and I don't know what you saw but really, we were just making small talk”

“Small talk?”

“Yes”

“You and Jerry talk?”

“Yeah. As you know, human beings are social animals, they interact with each other and-”

“Cut the crap! You know what I mean...”

“It's not like we're best friends or something but we know each other so we happen to have a chat from time to time” I shrug and on one hand I find it funny that Angie came here running, fearing for an upcoming duel between me and her ex, on the other hand I think he'd actually deserve a couple of punches after all.

“And you didn't talk about anything else?”

“No, what would we talk about?”

“I don't know, maybe you told him something about the other night...”

“Why would I?” I thought Angie would tell me to fuck off after that fuckin' scene I made but we made up the next day instead, problem solved. Why would I rock the boat?

“Well, I don't know, maybe because you threw a fit at me!” she retorts and suddenly she almost looks disappointed.

“That's different, I'm with you, not with him...”

“Ok but you almost ate me alive on the phone. And with him? Nothing? He just gets away with it like that? A chat at the bar like two old friends?”

“Sorry Angie, I don't understand. One second ago you were all alarmed because you thought I had told him something and now you're offended because I didn't. Is it that I'm limited and I just don't get it or does it make like no fuckin' sense at all?”

She opens her mouth as if she's about to answer, then she shuts up and looks around like she's looking for the right words through the crowd. In the end she admits, almost mortified: “It doesn't make fuckin' sense at all, I don't even know what I mean honestly”

“Hey, it's alright, ok? Jerry and I are on normal decent terms as two colleagues. And who gives a fuck about Jerry anyway” I take her face between my hands so she's forced to look at me as I smile to reassure her and let her know she's getting worried for nothing.

“Ok. But how do you do it? I mean, like, when you talk about me”

“Easy: we don't talk about you. Do you want something to drink?” I answer straight, turn back towards the bar to get the bartender's attention and order another round for me only, since Angie shakes her head no.

“Ok, right, but what if it happens?”

“It doesn't happen. Not even coke? Or juice?”

“No, thanks. But how can you be sure? What if my names comes up during a conversation, what do you do?”

“We don't do anything because that can't be, Angie... Windbreaker?”

“Wrong answer. Anyway the fact it hasn't happened so far doesn't mean it can't happen in the future” Angie smiles at my casual attempt at guessing her second name but doesn't let go on the topi.

“I'm 100% sure it can't happen. Jerry and I don't talk about you, we just don't”

“Never?”

“Never. We have a deal” the last bit slips out of my mouth and I regret it one second later, as soon as I see Angie's face as she registers this piece of information.

“You have... WHAT??”

“We made a non-aggression agreement that satisfies both parties” ok, I'm not 100% satisfied, and Jerry neither for sure, but it's working now.

“You made a deal with Cantrell? About me? And when?” after every questions she takes a small break that lasts a couple of seconds, in which I shake my head yes. But the third question requires a more articulated answer.

“In San Diego” kind of articulated.

“SAN DIEGO? You told Jerry about us when I left?”

“Actually, before that...”

“BEFORE??”

“And it wasn't me telling him anyway, it was the other way round” Angie doesn't look convinced or maybe she's just confused. So I tell her about the little quarrel Jerry and I had at the Yates Club, about how Jerry had figured it all out and got mad at me for not telling him.

“Wait, correct me if I'm wrong: you mean he did everything he wanted when he was with me but he had the nerve to get angry because you hadn't let him know on advance that you were interested in his ex girlfriend? The ex girlfriend he treated like shit? Why would you show him this courtesy? And how did he understand we liked each other anyway?”

“Maybe he's a good observer.” or maybe I just suck at hiding what I feel but I don't say that because she sucks as much at understanding other people's feelings and I don't wanna hurt her “Anyway he was right to some extent, we were on tour together and from time to time he asked me about you and confided in me and I could have told him or just talk about something else. Instead I just stayed there listening to him. So I was kind of an asshole too”

“He confided with you?”

“Yes”

“And what did he say about me?”

“Why do you care? Is it important? And then, well, can't you imagine?” if I got so jealous the other night is also because I know he's still into her.

“No, but I'm curious to know: 1) how he's still alive, 2) how you held back throughout the tour”

“I don't know, maybe it's just because of a certain promise I made to a certain special person about not kicking the ass of a certain ex and keeping a certain secret and not starting any trouble in general”

“Wow, you're a man of his word then”

“I'm someone you can trust”

“Will you make a deal with me too then?”

“Sure, anything you want princess”

“The deal is... we won't talk about Jerry anymore”

“Uh”

“Like never, ok?”

“Well, I mean...”

“I won't mention him to you and you won't mention him to me. It's not like we can erase him from our lives, we simply won't actively have any more conversations about him, what do you think?”

“It's not that simple...”

“Well, if you can make an agreement with him, I can't see why you can't make the same kind of deal with me, since I'm also your girlfriend” she folds her arms once again and from the look she's giving me I know I won't get out of this alive if I don't accept this fuckin' agreement. The only thing I can do is trying to get the most out of it.

“In fact I can do it. I'm in...” I hold out my hand for her to shake it “on one condition”

“What is it?” she lets go of my hand and looks suspicious, I think she really don't know where I'm getting at.

“That you finally tell me your second name” she rolls her eyes and barely hides her smile, maybe she was expecting something worse.

“Ok, agreed” she shakes my hand again and I'm all ears.

“So?”

“You know I'm giving you the most powerful weapon, right? You'll make fun of me as long as I live for this”

“I bet it's a beautiful name, I can't wait to know, I'm super psyched”

“Just like my parents when they chose my second name, like I'm pretty sure they were literally under the influence of psychedelics when they decided to call me like that”

“Call you what?”

“Angelina... Something Wind Pacifico”

“But if you're a W. it can't be-”

“The other half of the word starts with a W too”

“Whirlwind!” I say straight off and for an immediate word association the lyrics of Like a hurricane by Neil Young start running in my head and I can already picture her as the perfect main character of that masterpiece of a song.

“No, it's all together but actually it would be a separated word”

“Oh” are you sure? Because that name was pretty perfect.

“It's an adjective” she points out while, in my daydream, I leave the hazy bar and close the door behind my back.

“Windy Wind?”

“Hahaha fuck you, Eddie!”

“Ok, I'm serious now. Warm wind?” I think about the warmth of her hugs and her presence in general but she shakes her head no.

“My mother was... is a fan of Nina Simone. So?”

“Uhm...”

“Maybe I can help you a little more if I tell you Station to station by David Bowie”

I mentally run through the album's tracklist until I get to maybe one of Bowie's best vocal performances ever, right at the end of the record.

Wild is the wind

“Angelina Wildwind Pacifico”

“Guilty as charged”

“It's fucking cool!”

“Ok but... wild wind? Me? Can you picture me with a name like that?” she blushes and shakes her head and hides her face behind her hands.

“Actually it suits you perfectly”

“Sure, it suits to the most boring and average person on the planet”

“No, it suits to the strongest and most unpredictable and most breathtakingly beautiful person in the world. At least, in the part of world that I know, which by the way is the only part I care about because you're there” Angie removes her hands from her face and looks straight into my eyes without opening her mouth and for a minute there I get the illusion I managed to leave her speechless or, at least, in the condition of being forced to take a fucking compliment for once.

“Hahaha well, it really is a shitty world!” she cracks up all of a sudden and hugs me, so tight.

“How fuckin' stupid are you from 0 to 10?” I hold tighter.

“I don't know but I'd say we have a deal now, right?” she looks up and gets free from my embrace just to stretch her hand towards me and seal this agreement for good.

“Right, deal done” I shake her hand, then pull her back to me to kiss her and seal this pact my way.

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

Time to take a ride, time to take it in a midnight eye

And if you want to go, get on below

“Ok, where the hell are those two now? Dave and I have to unwrap our presents!” we all more or less managed to bunch up around a couple of tables at the Ok Hotel. I tap Krusen on the shoulder and he suddenly awakes. He zoned out completely when the Sonic Youth's song started. Or maybe when the whole evening started.

“I kind of saw them earlier at the bar” it's the drummer's wild guess and considering he basically spent the whole time at the bar, before and after the show, he could have seen Angie and Eddie any time. They could as well be in Mexico by now.

“They're not at the bar anymore, that's where we're coming from” McCready and Staley join us with two fresh beers in their hands, talking of people who should tone it down a little.

“Huh they must be tongue-kissing around here somewhere” Stone is sitting right in front of me, keeping one hand on Grace's shoulder and waving the other hand in the air while he speaks, as to brush it off like an unimportant thought.

“Who? Eddie and Smurfette?” Cornell Gazette from the other end of the table couldn't miss the breaking news and both Stone and Grace nod.

“They've been doing nothing else all night, they're on the edge of public indecency” Mike enriches the gossip story some more, followed by Ben and Kim, who put up a show and got us all bent in laughter.

“I've never seen anything like that”

“At some point we timed them”

“We were bored”

“Twelve minutes and a half of tongue”

“Contjnuous, uninterrupted tongue. I mean, with no breaks whatsoever”

“They looked like two fuckin' 14-year-olds”

“Well, Angie's still a teenager after all, it makes sense”

“Ok but what about Eddie? And how... just on a practical level, I mean, I don't get how they could fuckin' breathe through all that”

“They must have gills, fuck if I know”

“Hahahaha you're such assholes!” my girlfriend scolds us all but only slaps me on the nape.

“Well they're just making up for lost time and you're just jealous” Meg joins her in defending the two lovebirds.

“I get it but TWELVE MINUTES AND THIRTY SECONDS” Kim repeats punctuating every single word about the record timing.

“Jealous and peeping Toms!” Graces chimes in too.

“They were on top of the stairs, it was impossible not to see them” the guitarist shrugs and his bass player nods.

“From every view point and corner”

“Twelve minutes and a half on the stairs?” I playfully add fuel to the fire, the two musicians look at me and their arms flap out.

“Yes!”

“Then the record is that Angie didn't fall down the stairs on anybody, given her history” Chris snickers under his moustache.

“God you love that story so much!” Layne almost chokes on his beer then laughs at Cornell's face.

“Ok ok, anyway, you're shit guys, this all mess for some P.D.A.s? Just because they loosened up a bit, it doesn't mean they're living 24/7 connected at the mouth li- Oh wait, yeah, there they are, they're kissing next to the door” Meg abruptly interrupts her speech and it's kind of comic because we all turn around together at the exact same moment and among those in the back there's someone standing up, getting closer or stretching their neck to give a better look at the not-so-new couple. Even strangers passing by turn the same direction to see what the fuck we're looking at.

We don't know if it's been more than twelve minutes and a half since the beginning of their laters make out session, but those two break away from their kiss and Eddie looks right towards us. We turn the other way around and in a second we're back at talking, well, pretending to talk as if nothing happened, as if he hadn't caught us red handed. Out of the corner of my eye I see them coming over and I casually lift up my voice.

“Alright, I love Goo too, it's a hell of a record, it goes without saying. What I meant is that putting it on in a club and just playing it front to back for two or three times, letting it go, it just gives me a sense of... sloppiness? That's how you call it, right? I'm not saying you have to pay a dj or some fucking guy just to put records on and select music, but they could at least take some time to make a fuckin' mix tape or something and put that on, even on repeat, it doesn't seem so difficult to me. Oh hey guys, where have you been?” I address Stone and Dave first, who look at me weirdly, then to Andie and Eddie walking up to the table.

“Round here. Have you already opened your presents? There's mine left!” Angie rummages into her bag looking for something, then picks out a not so small package.

“Cool, a new brush set, thank you!” I cheer as I unwrap it.

“A little bird told me you needed new ones...” Angie looks up playing dumb, exactly like the bird I know very well who's standing beside her. These two fuckers belong together.

“Oh and this is mine” the little bird sticks his hands into his girl's bag and takes out another package, which turns out to be Subway art, a photobook about graffiti art I've been wanting to buy for ever.

I can say this was a lucky birthday for me, with strings, cords, tool kits, acryic paint set, a couple of gift cards for Easy Street Records, which I loved quite as much as the supermarket voucher Meg gave to me. All useful presents but I loved the (apparently) less useful ones too, like the Marshall jack rack key holder with four plug key chains: thanks to the Alice guys!

During the whole presents and wishes exchange, Eddie and Angie are sitting in a corner and basically being the special observed ones, since everybody watches them like you watch a documentary about animals during the mating season. The couple takes part to the conversation and just ignore the rest, yet they whisper something to each other from time to time.

“By the way, Angie's got something to tell you” Eddie comes out of nowhere with this, in a moment we were all silent, catching our breath after a joke by Stone, who suggested Touch me, I'm Dick as the title of the stand out song of our fake band in Cameron Crowe's movie. By the way, who knows if Chris has already wrote something for the songs of Cliff's solo demo? I gotta remember to ask him.

“What?” Meg asks first, since nobody's speaking, not even Angie, who first gave Eddie a nasty look, then turned pale as she looked at us one by one.

“Is it about the movie?” Layne asks.

“No, it's not about the movie”

“Are you quitting college?” Dave tries.

“No! Why should I?” Angie denies it firmly.

“Is it personal?” if I didn't know him, I'd say Stone is trying to put Angie at ease and help her spit it all out. But since I know him too well, I can say without a shadow of doubt he's just enjoying himself playing with the poor girl.

“Well, yeah, but... mmm... it's not just about me, you know”

“Who else then?” I inquire.

“Eddie” “Me” the two lovebirds reply at the same time.

“Oh fuck, are you pregnant?” McCready stands out as usual for his caution and sensitiveness.

“OH MY GOD, NO! WHAT THE HELL, MIKE?” Angie stands up in shock while Eddie simply laughs.

“So? What's the news?” Cornell is all ears and right now I'm picturing him armed with a pen and notepad as an old-time reporter.

“What Angie's trying to say is that-” Eddie wipes his eyes with he sleeve of his shirt and tries to give an answer but the girl is faster.

“We're together”

“...”

“Eddie and I, we're together”

“...”

“We've been for a while”

“Almost a month” he suggests to her in a low voice.

“Almost a month” she repeats and she looks into our eyes searching for something she can't find and apparently she's just concluded the best thing to do is to keep adding details or to repeat the same concept with different words until she'll find it. Or until any of us opens their mouth.

“...”

“Something more than three weeks”

“...”

“We're basically a couple”

“...”

“I mean, he's my boyfriend and I-”

“And she's my girlfriend” Eddie ended the sentence for her.

“Wow, what a coincidence!” Stone can't hold back and I hide my face between my hands not to show I'm laughing.

“What do you mean?”

“Ok. You're together... and?” Mike tries to investigate some more and if he asks her if she's pregnant once again I swear I'm gonna laugh so hard that I'll fall out of my fuckin' chair.

“And nothing, that's it” Angie replies and sits back down.

“And that'd be great news?” Kim asks keeping a straight face.

“Why? What's wrong with it? Is it because you think I'm too young for him? Look, I know, we know. We talked about it actually, I understand tha-” Angie's about to launch herself into a hornet's nest with no way out but her roommate stops her and we all finally crack up.

“Totally unmotivated Angie-drama in 3, 2, 1...”

We all, but Angie of course.

“Why are you laughing? Is ther something I don't know?”

“What you don't know is that now everybody knows that what you believed none of us knew was actually well known by everyone” Stone answers in his style and Mike's face tells me he didn't understand shit.

“Huh?” exactly.

“He means we're laughing because we already knew what the news were about” I explain and the lightbulb in his head lights up.

“Uh!”

“You saw us then, I mean, tonight? Because, well, you didn't say anything...”

“Who do you think we are? We're discreet people!” Cornell states and it almost looks like he believes it.

“We knew before tonight anyway” Ben adds without thinking.

“You knew before? How? MEG?? You told them, right??” Angie stands back up and roars against her friend.

“How could she tell if she didn't know?” Eddie asks puzzled his now official girlfriend.

“No! Right! She didn't know! But... I don't know, maybe she figured it out. DID YOU FIGURE IT OUT?”

“I figured it out” Meg confesses.

“THAT'S IT!”

“But I didn't tell anyone, I swear” she holds up her hands, Angie believes her and looks at us one by one, before aiming straight at her boyfriend.

“YOU TOLD THEM!”

“No, I can assure you I kept my mouth shut, as you asked me”

“How did you know then?”

“Stone told me” McCready's voice of innocence out of nowhere.

“Stone told me too, because I was there as well that night. And Dave too” I confess and the drummer nods.

“Stone told us too, but it was some other time, at least I think so” Chris looks at Kim and Ben who shake their heads yes.

“For obvious reasons, he told me too” Grace raises her hand and shyly admits.

“Jeff told me because Stone told him” Laura chimes in.

“Is there someone Stone didn't tell anything to?” Angie blurts out.

“Me! I figured it all out by myself! I'm a genius!” Layne raises his hand and waves it around, as happy as the winner of a tv quiz.

“And you, how did you know, genius?” Angie turns to Gossard snarling at him but he answers calmly.

“I believe I knew even before you that you'd end up together, Smurfette”

“What do you mean?”

“That you both suck at playing the oblivious lovers. You're made for each other” I translate it all in Jeff-language and everybody nods in agreement, Eddie included.

“Were we so obvious?”

“Noooo”

“Not that much”

“It's not that”

“It's just Stone's a very good observer”

“It's just Stone doesn't mind his own fuckin' business”

These are just some of the answers we give in no particular order just not to make her feel little Angie like shit.

“Come on, it was clear from the beginning they had a connection. Since the first time they met at the Off Ramp, I realized it at my own expense since I had bet on it, do you remember Mikey?” I like the fact that Stone, just like me, remembers old memories based on bets we placed.

“Right! I lost ten bucks too because I thought you wouldn't talk to each other, yet you got along immediately, it looked like you already knew each other”

“I'm gonna ignore the umpteenth bet you made over your friend's head but... actually we already knew each other somehow” Angie reveals and the alarm goes off in my head.

“WHAT? REALLY? HOW?”

“Jeff?” Stone calls me immediately as I keep on trying to disguise the truth clumsily.

“HOW DID YOU KNOW EACH OTHER? THAT'S SOME NEWS!”

“I had met him at Roxy's the previous night, he came over to eat”

“NEWS AS IN IT'S A NEW THING, A NEW FACT I'VE NEVER HEARD OF BEFORE”

“So you didn't know about it Jeff?” Stone doesn't let go and by now it's obvious I got caught, I'm fucked.

My shit show at least has one merit: the following little bickering between Stone, Mike and I about the twenty dollars, which they think I owe them back, moves the attention away from Angie. Now she's finally free from the awkwardness and can sit back and enjoy the show of our friends kicking my ass, holding hands with her new boyfriend.

[kemuritohai]

Hey

so i started a grunge slash fanfic acc on here ( @grungefic ) where i also take requests for ships and prompts, yesterday i posted my first story there, if you like it you can find more of my stories on ao3 and wattpad hope you enjoy it and i eagerly wait for your comments and requests <3

— sheena

[laciecredle15444]

Japanese Clothing Brand】 ☆ ☆ ☆ #grunge #grungegirl #grungestyle #grungef… https://ift.tt/2Z6N8LV

[jjmichie]

In Too Deep:  Chapter 2

Set in the Love Bone days, Stone gets in over his head when he falls for an older woman.  Total fiction.  Nothing but my imagination. 

In case you missed Chapter 1, you can find it here: 

“Hey . . .” Stone said between mouthfuls of hamburger.  “Remember . . . the time we went to LA?“ 

“Uhh . . . yeah,” Andy replied as he dangled a handful of french fries into his mouth.  

“And remember . . . there was that woman we met from Polygram, their marketing person or something . . .”  

Andy continued chewing and gestured for Stone to go on, that he needed more information. 

“ . . . she was really funny and blonde and . . ?”

The sound of plates clamoring from the booth behind them drifted into their dialog, as a waitress piled them dangerously high. The christmas bells on the front door jangled continuously as cold Seattlites streamed in at regular intervals, fresh from their jobs, done with their workdays, stamping their feet to slide the slush, and their worries, off into a pile of melting grayness by the door.  The regulars made themselves at home as lagers drifted by on serving trays, and the smell of the smoking section blended with the onions that were endlessly frying in the kitchen.   

Andy continued his gesturing.  

“She was kind of older?  And . . . pretty? And wearing these cool knee high boots that looked like they were from the 60s?”

“Ohh . . . yep!  I remember.” 

“Yes!  I saw her yesterday.  She’s here in Seattle.“

Andy waited for Stone to continue while he piled in more fries.  

Stone paused.  He had expected more of a response from Andy.  

“Yeah?”  Andy finally said.  

“Yeah!“  Stone realized he wasn’t sure where he had planned to go with the conversation.  “Just . . . yeah.  Thought it was interesting to see her again.”  

“Can I get you anything else?” Their waitress blew her bangs upward as she hurried by their table, check in hand, hovering it face down in anticipation.  

“Another round?”  Andy pointed at their empty beer glasses.  

She retracted the check and moved on.

“Where did you see her?”  

“At my parent’s house.  She’s buying a property or something. My dad was looking over her closing documents.” 

“Oh wow.  Yeah, she was cool.  Did she remember you?”  

Stone began playing with his fork. “Umm.  You know, it was kind of hard to tell, I mean . . . she left so quickly, plus my dad was there.”  

“So . . . she didn’t remember you.”  Andy smirked.  

Stone just sighed.  

“When we met her in LA, wasn’t she with a big, like, mountain-man guy?” Andy recalled as he sucked ketchup off his fingers.    

Stone was quiet.  She had been.  And he vaguely remembered the mountain-man guy being introduced as her fiance.  But things can change.  Perhaps things had changed.  

“I don’t remember,”  he said to Andy, and took a huge bite of his burger.  

“He was super scary looking.”  

Stone chewed his burger-bite down into a tiny glob of mush, but found it hard to swallow, all of a sudden.  

“Like, I wouldn’t want to run into that dude in a dark alley,”  Andy continued. 

“Molly!” Stone suddenly said, gazing away from the table.  “Her name was Molly!”  

Andy watched Stone, who was now staring into space.  

“Oh my god dude.  You can’t be serious!”  Andy shook his head.  

“What?”

“‘What,’” Andy mocked.  “Stone!  Seriously?  Don’t . . .”

“I’m not!  I’m just . . . you know . . . it was nice to see her again.”  

“Rrrrrright,” Andy took another huge bite and smiled knowingly at his friend.  

*****

Stone saw her again two days later.  

He was at the band’s management office, as usual.  He found himself spending more and more time there, as the release of the album drew closer, and planning for the tour moved from something conceptual to something real.  Even though he didn’t really need to be there, he wanted to be.  After all, he had quit his day job for this.  The least he could do was take an active role in the management of his band.  

Really? Your band? 

Jeff was usually there too, and sometimes Andy.  On that particular day all three of them were there.  Kelly, their manager, had gone out somewhere, but several admin folks were around, working on whatever they work on.  Everyone was just about ready to close up and leave. 

He hadn’t heard the door open.  And he hadn’t sensed the new presence that had just entered the space. Hadn’t seen the well-tapered jacket that flattered her figure, or the snowflakes in her blonde hair, which was bobbed to swing just above her shoulders.  Or the little green clip that held her bangs to one side, bangs that had grown too long to wear loose but still too short to tuck behind her ear.  Or the vintage kneehigh boots.  

He only noticed something had changed when one of the admin folks said . . .

“Hey Molly!  When did YOU get here?”  

Stone turned around.  It was her.  It was Molly.  The woman he had met in LA. The woman who had been in his parents house, shaking hands with his dad, walking through the foyer, standing in the doorway.  The woman who had stared at him to the point that he had felt naked.  And whom he had not stopped thinking about since.  She was here.    

She was here, right in front of him, in the management office, talking with the admin.  He watched her laugh at their comments, a gracious lilting laugh, and this close up he could see that she had a dimple on one cheek, not both, just one.   

A tingle of hotness started rising from his neck, and crept into his cheeks. 

“How’s that man of yours?” the admin was asking.  

“He’s good.”

“Still doing those wood carvings?”

“Yep, he had an exhibit at the . . . “

Stone’s gaze moved to her legs.  Shrouded in fuzzy black tights, extending from a houndstooth patterned miniskirt, topped by her incongruous leather jacket and a nonchalant scarf around her neck, she looked like she had woken up dressed that way.  Everything came together so perfectly, including her confident smile and the way she carelessly ignored him.  

The words that man of yours hadn’t registered with Stone. 

“Oh shit.  I have to run . . .” she looked at her watch.  “Have you seen Kelly?  I need to give this to him . . .”  

She handed the admin a folder sloppily filled with papers of some sort.  Stone enjoyed watching her rummage through her overstuft handbag to find it, and the way she extended her arm.  

But as she turned to leave, she noticed him.  

She squinted at him and tilted her head to the side.  Stone could see her furiously thinking, trying to put it together, why he was familiar, where she knew him from.  “Hi . . .” she finally said, her eyes locked on him.  

He stared back at her, the hotness continuing to rove over his face, causing his throat to suddenly feel dry and his hands to suddenly feel wet.  

“You . . .”  she said softly, directly to him.  She leaned forward and extended her hand.  “I know you . . .” 

“That’s Stone,” the admin informed her.  “They’re from Mother Love Bone.”  

Stone reached out to take her hand.  Her fingers were chilly, protruding from black fingerless gloves, but her grip was firm, and he liked the way it felt.   

“Hey . . .”  he tried to say.  But his voice squeaked.  Squeaked.  Like a fucking adolescent.  He cleared his throat and tried again.  “Heyyy.”  Now he sounded like the Fonz.  

She smirked, her hand still in his, not bothering to hide her amusement.  

“Have you seen Kelly?”  she asked him, freeing her hand from his grip, her eyes not leaving his, the smirk not leaving her face.  

Stone smirked back. Feeling like a fool in front of his bandmates, trying desperately to make up for the dorklike voice that had just come out of him, he tried to regain composure through his smirk, putting on his best smug pout that he often practiced in front of the mirror for use at photo shoots.  

“Umm . . . “ Jeff finally spoke up, realizing Stone was just going to continue sitting there.  “No.  He was here earlier, but left a while ago.”  

Stone and Molly had now become engaged in an old-fashioned staring contest.  Neither was going to budge.   

“Well . . . okay then,” Molly continued, neither her gaze nor her smirk letting up.  “If he shows up, will you please tell him that I finished his mailing list edits, and . . . he can call me at the hotel?”  

Again, Jeff waited for Stone to reply, since Molly was clearly talking in his direction. He glanced over at Andy, hoping for some sort of assistance.  Andy just shut his eyes and shook his head.  

“Umm . . . “ Jeff said again.  “Yeah, I guess . . . I . . . will let him know.”  

Molly’s lips were shifting slightly, into an involuntary smile.  Stone was winning.  

“And?“ Stone asked, finally gaining strength, finding his voice.  “What hotel would that be?” 

She raised an eyebrow.  “Can I trust you with such information?”  She scrawled the hotel name across a scrap of paper that was lying on the desk.  She dropped it onto Stone’s lap.  “Thank you Stone,” she said, and turned to leave. 

“Hey, wait a sec,” Andy suddenly spoke up.  “Didn’t we meet you in L.A.?  Remember, it was at that dinner thing --”

“Yes!”  she turned around and directed a warm smile at Andy.  “Yes, that was it!  I knew you guys looked familiar.  I caught your set.  You were great!”  

Never missing a moment, Andy stood up and took a melodramatic bow.  “Thank you, dear lady!”  

Stone glared at him.  

She laughed.  

“We met your fiance too,”  Andy continued, despite the burn of Stone’s eyes on him.  “What was his name again?”  

“James. He’s my husband now.”

“Cool!  What brings you and James to Seattle?”  

Stone fluffed his ponytail and pursed his lips.  

Molly shifted her stance into an ‘at ease’ pose.  “Well, a few things.  First of all, I’m doing some work with Kelly, and second . . . we’re buying a cabin up in the Cascades.  We want to live here part time.”  

“Oh, no kidding!”  Andy glanced at Stone. “So we’ll be seeing more of you?”

“Yes!  I’m staying there for now” - she pointed at the scrap of paper in Stone’s crotch - “but was planning on doing my work here in the office, so definitely will be around.”

“Awesome!  You’ll be, like, our new neighbor! Stone grew up here you know, right here in Capitol Hill.”  Andy gestured toward Stone as if presenting Molly with a grand masterpiece.  “He  knows all the cool places in Seattle.  You should get him to take you on a tour!”

Now Stone stared at Andy in complete disbelief.  

“That would be nice,”  Molly smiled at them all, but her gaze was still on Stone.  “James won’t be arriving until next week, so  . . . I have some free time.  I would definitely be up for that.”  

His throat went dry again.  

After the door swung shut behind her it was all he could do to keep from smacking Andy.   

“What the fuck!” he hissed. 

“Looks like you’ve got a date!  You’re WELCOME!”   

“I’m NOT fucking thanking you.  Jesus!”

“She was flirting with you, Stone!  Wasn’t she, Jeff?  Did you see it, she was totally flirting with him.” 

Stone rolled his eyes, but then smiled helplessly.  He couldn’t stay mad.  He could never stay mad at Andy.  “Whatever!  It doesn’t matter anyway. She’s married.”  

But Stone was still holding onto the scrap of paper in his lap. 

[jjmichie]

In Too Deep:  Chapter 3

Fiction. 

The hotel was a pain in the ass to get to.  Stone had to admit he was disappointed in her choice of the Edgewater, which was a typical choice of many first time visitors, with its convenient proximity to the Needle and the Market and all the ferry piers.  But this also made it ground zero for meandering crowds of tourists and very fucked up traffic.  

He studied the scrap of paper again.  Edgewater Hotel.  Written in cursive, with a delicate slant to the right.  He had flipped it over several times during the drive, examining both the front and the back, hoping that somehow a room number would materialize next to the hotel name, but of course, it didn’t.

As his car crawled into the hotel driveway, and he passed under the watchful gaze of balcony-occupants, through the stone entry, he debated whether to give her shit for being such a tourist, or just be nice about it.  Jeff was always telling him he needed to be nicer, but on the other hand, Molly seemed to get him, get his humor, so probably wouldn’t hurt – 

But then he saw her.  She was waiting for him, just outside the hotel’s glass door.  

A simultaneous wave of excitement and panic rushed through him.  Part of him had hoped she wouldn’t be there.  That she would just not show up.  He had no idea what they were going to talk about, and he was worried that she wouldn’t like the itinerary he had planned out for the day.  Plus, just the thought of her made him tongue-tied and sweaty.  And now the sight of her made him . . . 

“Hi!” she called, as he stopped the car and stepped out.  “You’re right on time.”  

Walking around to the passenger side, Stone admired her.  She was wearing snug blue jeans with suede hiking boots - smart! - and an oversized wool sweater, topped off with a green knit hat and scarf.  The exact same green as the droopy spruce trees that lined the hotel driveway.  Much more casual than she had looked at the office, but so beautiful.  And so perfect for the surroundings.  No one would guess she was from L.A.  Or that she worked for a major label.  

“You look . . .”  Stone stopped himself.  Was complimenting her appearance appropriate?  It wasn’t like this was a date.  And she was married.  “. . . like you’ve lived in Seattle all your life!”  

“Really?” She looked genuinely happy but a little surprised.  Stone realized her eyes were now taking in his own carefully chosen outfit – very different from hers - with his Nike high tops and cropped black pants, multiple belts, his animal print vest and leather jacket, a scarf around his hair, and a few too many pendants dangling around his neck.  Fuck, he had totally miscalculated. Standing next to her, he felt ridiculous.  Like he was trying.  Like he was shouting to the world hey I’m in a rock band.  

But her eyes had already moved on to his station wagon.  

He had actually cleaned it.  But as he held the door open for her, he noticed it still reeked of stale party and probably should have been run through the carwash again.  

“Have you been to the Space Needle before?”  he asked as they got in, trying to distract her, trying to pull her attention back to the day at hand.  

“The Space Needle?  Really?  What do I look like to you, a tourist??”  she gestured out the window at a clump of meanderers in baseball caps and fanny packs, bumping into each other as they unfolded their accordion maps and burned their memories into photographs.  

“Ha!”  he couldn’t help but crack up.  She did get his humor!  “Ummm . . . hey you’re the one staying right in the heart of tourist-ville. At the Edgewater.  Were you hoping to run into the Beatles?  Have them reel you up on a fishing line?”  

“Oh, so now I’m a groupie?” she pulled off her hat, as the car was warming up.  For some reason Stone found himself wondering what he would look like in it.  The green would match his eyes. “I actually have been to the needle before . . . but not with the guitarist for Mother Love Bone.”  She glanced down at his belts.  “So I would gladly do it again . . .”  

Stone took her to the Space Needle.  

He also took her to Pike Place Market.  He took her on a ferry boat across to Bremerton and back (they didn’t get off the boat).  They had oysters at Elliott’s.  They went to the Art Museum. They walked by the Cinerama.  He walked her by the Northwest school and told her about his time there.  About learning to play the guitar there.  About the encouragement he got from his teachers and classmates.  How he believed he must be the only person in the world who had actually enjoyed high school.  They walked up and down the streets of Capitol Hill, with their lush trees and early century homes and nice restaurants and burgeoning art galleries and funky shops.  Whatever fears he had had about conversation topics or the day’s activities had subsided into a calmness as they took in a cup of coffee at one of his favorite spots.  She had become somewhat quiet, letting him ramble on about the places and experiences that comprised his youth.  

“This is cool . . .” she finally said, interrupting his story about the time he had gotten in trouble for sneaking out at night with his best friend to go to illicit clubs.  

He wasn’t sure if she meant the coffee shop, or the city, or the moment.  

Her expression was thoughtful. Serious.  Looking him right in the eye.  The aloof sarcasm that had characterized their rapport at the beginning of the day had given way to a genuine sweetness that blended with the hazelnut aroma of their coffee and filled the air between them.  

“I think I’m going to like it here.”  

[jjmichie]

In Too Deep:  Chapter 5

Been on a writing roll this week!  Happy to finally be getting back to this with another chapter.  Enjoy!  

Stone pushed the buzzer to Andy’s apartment.  Again.  He had pushed it twice already with no response.  He folded his arms and winced as a sharp wind sliced through his opened jacket and stung his cheeks, which were still flushed. Two girls passed him on the sidewalk, huddled arm in arm, glancing at him as their laughter blended into the hum of traffic and furnaces that endlessly pumped noise into the gray city.  He avoided their eyes, suddenly feeling embarrassed, like they could see inside his mind, like they knew what he had just done.  He hit the buzzer again.  

Come on Andy.  Please be there.  I need to fucking talk to you! 

“Who??” Andy’s voice suddenly demanded, crackling and raspy through the static of the intercom.    

“Stone.”

The familiar guttural buzz of the door immediately followed, allowing it to crack open.  Stone pushed his way into the smelly entryway, thankful to be free from the cold and the knowing gaze of the couple.   

“Hey,” Andy called from the top of the stairs. He was wearing sunglasses, and had a box of Captain Crunch captive in the nook of his arm. “What’s up?”  

The feel of her lips on him.  The tingle of her hand.  The smell of her.  The warmth of her breath on his cheek when she was zipping his pants.  That’s what was up.  

But Stone said:  “What took you so long?  It’s fucking freezing! Thanks for leaving me out there like a forgotten dog!” as he clomped up the stairs. 

“Sorreeee,” Andy moaned, holding his apartment door open for Stone. It was warm inside. 

Stone’s stomach fluttered briefly as he saw that Andy’s roommate was sprawled out on the couch in nothing but boxers, his head nestled in a tangle of his own brown curls.  Geraldo Rivera was on the TV, obviously going unwatched.  

“Hey Chris,” Stone called to him. “Heard about Europe. That’s great.”  

Chris nodded in Stone’s direction, but didn’t lift his head or reply.   

“So . . . what’s going on Stoney?  You look excited.  Talk. To. Me.” Andy said in a robot voice.

Fuck. Did he really look excited?   

“Umm . . . can we . . .” Stone glanced at Chris.  “Can we . . . talk in your room?”  

Andy’s smile faded.  He took off his sunglasses. 

“Uh oh. This. Sounds. Ser-i-ous.” Andy was still attempting the robot voice, but his joy had dissolved.  He walked flatly down the hall to his room, and went directly to the window.  He stood facing out, gazing at the trees across the street as if they were a fascinating distant vista.  

“Are you feeling okay?” Stone asked. 

“I’m fine.”  Andy didn’t move.  He continued to stare beyond the trees, then finally sighed. “Yes, I KNOW I didn’t make it to the office today, and yes I’m SORRY if you guys needed me and I wasn’t there, and NO it won’t happen again . . .” 

Andy abruptly flung the window open and whipped a handful of Captain Crunch out, past the pane, over the sill, and watched the pieces float down toward the sidewalk beneath them.  The sidewalk where Stone had just been standing. Stone watched their journey too.  The little yellow chunks drifting apart to land randomly, undoubtedly to be crushed by oblivious pedestrians, or buried in the rare snow that was predicted to blanket Seattle that night. 

“Something totally weird happened today,” Stone whispered, ignoring Andy’s recital.  He had heard it before.  “I have to tell someone.”  

Andy perked up, clearly surprised and delighted.  He closed the window, and motioned for them to get comfortable on the beanbag chairs that occupied the corner of the room.  

“What?” Andy whispered back.  It amazed Stone how quickly Andy could shift demeanors.  The wall he had barricaded around himself a second ago had instantly vanished, and he was back to his happy self, snuggling into the bean bag chair, scooting up closer to Stone. “What!”   

“So . . . Molly was at the office today . . .”

“Ohhhh no!”

“Wait!  Just listen ok!”  

“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” Andy covered his mouth.  

“First of all, you HAVE to keep this to yourself.”  

“Yes!  Of course.” Andy leaned in even closer.  “What happened?”  

“Yep, so like I said, Molly was at the office today, and when Jeff and those guys left to get lunch, we were alone in the office, and . . . umm . . .” 

“No . . .”  

“I mean . . . we . . . sort of . . .”

“No . . .”

“It just sort of happened.”  

“What EXACTLY happened?  What did you do?”  

“Well, I didn’t do anything!  She did it!  She . . . started it.  She started kissing me!  And then . . .”  Stone looked down at his crotch.  At the belt she had undone, at the pants she had pulled down, at the outline she had traced with her fingers.    

Andy pretended to scream and collapsed backwards into his beanbag.  

“No way!  Holy fuck . . .”  

“I know!”  

“I TOLD you she was flirting.  But . . . no.  Dude, this isn’t cool.  I can’t let you do this!  What about . . .?”  

“Believe me, I’m as shocked as you are.  But I mean, what was I gonna do, say NO?”  

“Ummm, YEAH!  That’s EXACTLY what you shoulda done.  Okay . . . Stone?  Don’t move.  Stay right there.  I want to show you something.”  Andy got up and began rummaging through his messy dresser drawers.  “I found this yesterday, and was actually going to bring it in the office . . .”   

He pulled a handful of 4x6 color photos from the drawer, and held them out in Stone’s direction.

“Remember this?  These are from our trip to L.A.  These are pictures of Molly and her husband.  Stone, let me repeat that. Her HUSBAND. Look at him.”  

Stone looked at the photos.  

It was them.  Molly and James.  Posing with the band.  Everybody goofing off.  Molly looking as beautiful as he remembered her from that day, with her knee high boots and slant-bob hair. But next to her was a handsome taller man.  Rugged yet debonair, shaggy yet refined, James emanated an intensity and power that seemed to jump right off the film. Sandy brown hair framing deep eyes, eyes that seemed to bore into Stone with the same knowing gaze as the girls on the sidewalk.  And his body.  Jesus.  

“Take a good look!” Andy insisted.  “You really want to mess around with THAT GUY’s wife? He could snap you in half.”  

“She invited me to their cabin.”  Stone said, his eyes still roving over James’ chiseled jaw and powerful arms.  “This weekend.”  

******

The station wagon groaned as it snaked up the sharp incline towards the icy whiteness that lay ahead of him.  

Despite the distraction of his favorite Simon and Garfunkel cassette blasting from the car's tape deck, Stone could feel his heart pounding.  He gripped the wheel tightly as snow accumulated around his tires. 

The words Andy had said kept coming back to him.  Man, I can’t let you do this!

Why was he doing this?  What was he thinking?  

He could snap you in half!  

He passed a scenic overlook on his right, and at the last minute, swerved the car into its parking lot, skidding to a slippery stop, garnering a look of disapproval from a family that was trying to enjoy the view in peace.  

“Go back to the city,” he said out loud to himself, just as Mrs. Robinson began playing on the cassette.  “Now.”  

He looked back to the north, in the direction of the city.  The Seattle skyline had disappeared from view, and all he could see was the undulating monotony of Federal Way and the piles of subdivisions that seemed to literally multiply before his very eyes.  The whole metropolitan area had really changed in the last few years.   

He let his head fall forward to rest on the steering wheel, then he banged it several times.  He couldn’t erase the thought of her.  Images of her danced through his mind constantly now. And the scene that had happened in the office played on continuous loop.     

And right then he knew he was going to give in.  He wasn’t going to take Andy’s advice.  He wasn’t going to listen to his own conscience.  He wasn’t going back to the city.  He was going to the cabin. 

He turned his head to look eastward, slowly raising his gaze upward toward the white peaks that towered over the narrow twisting road that lay ahead of him.   

Nope.  He wasn’t going back to the city.  

[jjmichie]

In Too Deep:  Chapter 4

Fiction.  In case you missed Chapter 3, it can be found here

What had he really expected, anyway?  

Stone spit toothpaste into his bedroom sink and watched it swirl down the drain.  He could hear the sound of his parents watching the news from the living room below him, and the steady hum of the furnace as fought to shield the cavernous home from the December air that enveloped it.  Standing in front of the mirror in only his boxers, his hair and body still damp from a shower, he shivered. Coldness seemed to waft endlessly through his bathroom window despite the efforts of the furnace, inviting the inky moonless night into his room, into his space, into his mind. 

Had he honestly expected her to invite him up to her room?   Of course, she hadn’t.  

But he hadn’t expected the day to end so abruptly either.  After finishing their coffee, with the sun starting to set, he had driven back to her hotel.  And she simply hopped out and said thank you.  In the same tone that one might thank a taxi driver.  After such a perfect day, it had just surprised him, that was all.  He just felt like it had been leading up to . . . something more.  Closing his eyes, he re-lived the day as vividly as he could: him showing off his city to her, the wind playing with her hair on the ferry, the way she had clung to his arm going up the elevator of the Needle.  The way she had smiled at him.  And laughed at his jokes. 

Really Stone? You think just because she laughs at your jokes she wants to have sex with you? 

Maybe he had been talking too much.  Thinking back, he realized he had been doing most of the talking all day, and hadn’t learned a thing about her.  Hadn’t even asked a thing about her.  Perhaps that had been a turnoff. 

No.  

He rinsed his toothbrush and studied himself in the mirror.  No, that wasn’t it.  The reality was, she was married.  And even if she wasn’t married, why would she be interested in him?  He had dressed like a dork.  She was older than him, and easily the most lovely creature he had ever seen.  She could have anyone.  Why was he even thinking along the lines of what was or wasn’t a turnoff to her?  Or of her inviting him up to her hotel room?  

The phone by his bed suddenly rang, stopping his mind from playing out the hotel room scenario. 

“Hello?”  

Loud music.  Turn to Stone. When you are gone.  I turn to Stone.  Turn to Stone. When you comin’ home?  I can’t go on

And a voice singing along: “Uh bah bah bah bah Turn to Stone! When I’m alone, I turn to Stone!”

“Hey Andy . . .” 

“They’re playing your song!  I think of you whenever they play this stupid thing - just had to call and torture you with it.”  

“That’s so kind of you.  What’s up?”  

“Nothing.  What are you doing?”  

“Brushing my teeth.”  

“That’s boring.  Hey did you know Soundgarden’s gonna tour Europe again?”  

“Oh really?  No.”  

“Yup.  Chris just told me.  This spring.”  

“That’s GREAT.”  

Andy was quiet. 

Stone was quiet. 

The song had ended but Stone could hear the radio DJ talking in the background.  And no sound from Andy.  

“Are you still there?”  

“Soundgarden’s touring Europe, dude.”  

“Yeah! You told me. That’s awesome.” 

Andy was still quiet. 

“We’ll get there too . . .” Stone finally said. 

“I know!  Of course we will.  It’s not like I’m  . . . jealous . . .”

“Ha, ha!  I know.  I wasn’t implying that you were.”

“Well I wasn’t implying that you were implying . . . uh buh buh buh buh Turn to Stone, dah dah dah dah . . .”

“Andy?”

“Tuh tuh tuh turn to Stone!”  

“Andy . . .?”  

“Whaaaaat?”  

“Umm . . . are you . . . okay right now?  Because you sound –”   

“Screw yewwwww world!”

And the line went dead.  

Stone stood still, holding the receiver, staring at it.  

Shit.  

No.  Nope, nope, he convinced himself not to freak out.  Andy was probably just drunk, that was all.  It was late.  He had probably just gotten back from some club and was still bouncing off the walls.  Everybody got drunk at clubs, even himself. Not a big deal.  

Don’t call him back.  Don’t even think about it.  Just put the phone down and go to bed.  

******

Jeff pushed the management office door open with his foot, and wobbled a cardboard tray with four coffee cups past the admins and across the room to the desk where Stone and Kelly were huddled.  Calendars, photos, notebooks, and stray french fries were strewn across the top of the desk, now joined by the coffee tray that Jeff set down. 

“Well look at YOU!”  Stone exclaimed.  “Thank you sir.”  

“Courtesy of Raison.  They miss us.”  

“Nice.”  Stone grabbed a cup.  It was still warm.  

“No Andy today?”  

“He called in a while ago,” Kelly explained.  “Said he wasn’t feeling well this morning.”

Stone bit his cheek, and continued to warm his hands on the cup.  

“Okay, well, more coffee for us then,” Jeff shrugged.  

“I’ll take one . . .” 

Her lilting voice filled the room and sent a tingle of warmth down the back of Stone’s neck, as he heard her feet walking across the room.  

“Oh hey, Molly.”  Jeff handed her the extra cup.  

“Thank you,” she tucked her handbag under her arm in order to grab the cup with her fingerless gloves.  “Hey Stone!” she said and smiled at him.  “Thanks again for showing me around yesterday.”  Then to everyone in the room, she casually recited a list of everywhere they had gone, ending on the coffee shop and the pungency of the hazelnut, finally concluding with “things taste better here than LA.” 

Stone just nodded his head and tried not to look overly proud.  

Kelly had nodded his way through her recitation too, keeping one I glued to the pile on the table.  

“Okay, well I’m just glad you’re here, we need to sort out when to contact the press, and arrange some publicity photos and . . .”  

Molly joined the group at the table, and together they rummaged through the work ahead of them.  

Stone noticed she looked slightly tired.  Was that his imagination?  Or was there a slight heaviness to her lids today?  He hadn’t slept well. Maybe she hadn’t either. He enjoyed watching her work.  It was comforting to have someone take charge, confidently plot out the steps and strategy needed to pull this album and tour to fruitive success, from a record company perspective. He felt himself relaxing, sitting back, relieved to be able to put his trust into the management team.  They’d get to Europe one of these days.  He noticed Jeff was doing the same.  He was barely aware of time passing, but it somehow had.  He only realized how much time had passed when Kelly stood up.  

“I’ll grab us some burritos then, hopefully back in 30.  Molly if you could make that phone call, and have Stone listen in, if you guys are cool with it, I’m cool with it, and then we’ll be good to go.  You can use that one.”  He pointed at a phone in his office.  

“I’ll join you,” Jeff said to Kelly, and stood up and stretched. 

And then they were gone.  

Molly had already walked into the office, and had picked up the phone.  She was looking back at him, with her ice blue eyes, waiting for him to join her.  

He did.  

“Shut the door,”  she said.  

He shut it.  

“Hey . . .” he started, his back still to her. “Is everything okay?  I hope I wasn’t boring you yesterday, I tend to ramble on sometimes -” 

But then he felt her hands on his back.  Sliding upward from his waist to his shoulders. He froze as he saw her hand reaching around him to lock the door.  She gently turned him around to face her.  

“Yes,” she smiled, showing off that single dimple.  “Everything’s okay, except for one thing.”  

“Wwwwhat’s that?”  he whispered.

“I spent the whole day thinking about how much I wanted to do this.”    

Her hands were now on the front of his shoulders, and she pushed him back so that he was up against the wall.  And then she kissed him.  He felt her shiver and moan lightly as she pushed her lips harder against his, her eyes tightly closed.  

Oh my god, this is happening. 

“Mmmmm,” he moaned into the kiss too and put his arms around her.  He could smell a gentle strawberry fragrance and felt the softness of her hair and sweater and the curviness of her body beneath it.  He couldn’t believe he was actually tasting and touching her.  It had been leading up to something more.  

But then she pulled back, gasping a little.  He noticed she was flushed.  

“Wow . . .” he said and slumped back against the wall, accidentally letting out a giggle.  “What was that?”  

“I . . . just wanted to.”  She giggled too.  “I had to taste you . . things definitely taste better here than LA . . .” 

“I have to confess I wanted that too,” he smiled.  

“I had a feeling you did.”  

“You know . . .” Stone glanced over his shoulder at the door.  “We had a lot more privacy yesterday . . . we could’ve . . .” Stone raised his eyebrows.  

“On the first date?” she snickered, raising an eyebrow back at him.  “I didn’t think you were that kind of boy.”  

He gave her his most innocent smirk.  

“What kind of boy are you, Stone?”  she whispered, close to his ear.  

“I’m . . .” There were a million ways to finish that sentence, and they all raced through his head simultaneously.  

But there was a sudden commotion outside the door.  

“Oh shit, we have a phone call to make!” she remembered.     

[loverockawaitsyou]

Links to current fics ?

Hey there anon! Here are the links to my current fics!

I am still in progress on my longfic that I have been working on since July, and I have a couple one-shots I've done.

I'll probably do more one-shots after I finish my longfic (but I can't say when that will be).

OH YES ... SMUT WARNING for all fics, because not sure if that's what you're into!

[mookie--jam]

Chapter 1: The Tape (Empty Canvas)

Someone’s knocking at my door. But it doesn’t sound like knocking. It sounds more like a raging bull trying to ram it down with all it’s might. This can only mean one thing. The person standing behind the door is about 6 foot 2, shaggy haired, possibly wearing a combination of the following items: ripped up shirt, oversized sweater that’s falling of his shoulders, torn up jeans or a pair of shorts with brightly colored leggings underneath. And the item that he’s certainly wearing: one of his many weird hats.

I sigh and walk over to the door. “Stop knocking already, you’re gonna break the damn door!” I shout as I open it. As expected my suspicions were correct.

“Lola, my dear, my love, light of my life, fire of my loins”, Ament exclaims as he wraps his arms around me. I chuckle a little at his greeting and hug him back. This over exaggerated way of greeting me is a remnant of a drunken summer night when in a drunken stupor I had decided that it was a good time to explain the origins of my name. For the umpteenth time people were singing the Kinks song and I and the cheap wine that was coursing through my veins had decided that I finally needed to correct people. I was not named after the song, I was named after the book Lolita by Nabokov. And there I was on top of a hill, reciting the opening lines from the book with a drunken lisp. The ‘light of my life, fire of my loins’ part really stuck with Ament and now, three fucking months later he still won’t let it go. I’ve decided to accept it and move on. 

As I hug him back, his smell comes over me. A combination of sweat, pastries and coffee, sickly and sweet. We break apart and he immediately storms into my studio apartment and let’s himself fall face first on top of my bed. I sit down next to him and give him a pat on the back.

“Bad day?” I ask.

“The absolute fucking worst”, he mumbles into the pillow. I stand up and head to the kitchenette area of my apartment. It’s just a stovetop, a fridge and a sink, but I don’t need much more. I rummage in the cabinet and find the coffee. 

“You read my mind”, I hear Jeff mumble as the bed creaks underneath him. He’s probably switched to an upright position. 

“I still find it bullshit that they don’t even give you free coffee at Raison d’Etre. I mean how greedy can they be? Let’s just do the math here for a second. So each shift there’s about five people working, the average shift is about eight hours long. And I know they often make you do over time, but let’s not calculate that in. So let’s say that a person drinks about three cups of coffee during a shifts… So per shift that’s fifteen cups -give or take-, two shifts a day, so that’s thirty cups. And the original price -because they charge way too much- is about 40 cents a cup. So to finance the coffee intake of their staff it would cost them a whopping 12 bucks. It’s just utter bullshit.” 

Whilst I was doing the calculations I put on the coffee maker and it’s just started to drip, so in five minutes it will be done. I turn around and lean against the stovetop. Jeff is looking at me in confusion. “What?” I ask.

“You’re about the only person I know that does math out of frustration and I understood about half of what you just said.” I laugh and shake my head. “All I’m saying is that your employers are penny pinching motherfuckers that treat you like semi-slaves.”

“Well in that case amen”, he says as he lets himself fall back on the bed. 

“Ament, thank God you’re wearing leggings under those shorts, because otherwise I’d be seeing your balls right now”, I say and turn around. I hear him shrug and cross his legs. The coffee is done and I pour it into two mugs. I sit down next to Jeff again and hand him one. He sits back up and takes it. 

“You’ve got rehearsal?” I ask him, as he takes a sips and lets out a moan that could be mistaken for something else. 

“No”, he says and shakes his head, “Me and Stone are listening to some of the audition tapes we’ve received over the past few weeks.”

“Aha, so the search for a singer continues”, I say after swallowing a sip.

“Yes. I mean we’ve already listened to a few, but they’re not really what we’re looking for.”

“You mean that most are tone deaf?”

He chuckles a little. “Some are, but those that actually sounded good are just copying Andy.”

As soon as he says that name a somberness comes over his voice. I nod and try to ignore the gravitas of his voice.

“And the thing is that we’re looking for a new sound”, he continues on, the somberness quickly disappearing. “I mean, Mother Love Bone is through, we’re done, that band stopped existing the day Andy died. And some people just don’t get that. We’re not looking for a new Andy, we’re looking for someone completely new.” Even if it’s just to take away the pain, I think, but I don’t say aloud. 

“So when’s Gossard arriving?” I say, changing the subject. 

“Any minute”, Jeff says, finishing his cups and immediately heading towards the pot for more. “I’ve forgotten my keys to the rehearsal space, so I’m waiting for him to get here so I can get in.”

“Oh, so that’s why you’re paying me a visit? To warm your butt and steal my coffee until Stone gets here. Not to visit your favorite rehearsal space neighbor? I’m offended”, I jokingly say.

“Lola, first of all, you’re our only ‘rehearsal space neighbor’. Secondly, you know that you’re much better company than mister sarcasm himself. But I will admit, the coffee stealing part is 100 % true.”

“I knew it”, I laugh as I throw a pillow at his head, nearly causing him to drop the coffee.

“Lola Carmichael, why are you trying to maim my bassist?” a familiar voice says. I must’ve left the door open, because there leaning against the doorframe is Gossard. If I didn't know better I’d smack him in the face for that arrogant attitude, the way he’s standing there with that smirk and his arms crossed.

“Brick! As always a pleasure to see you”, I say in a sarcastic tone, as I walk over to him. He looks me up and down as I copy his stance at the other side of the doorframe. The smirk breaks into a smile as he throws an arm around me and gives me a couple of pats on the back. 

“Is that real coffee is smell, or Raison d’être stench on Aments clothes?” he mutters into neck.

“Both, feel free to grab a cup,” I say as I let go.

“This is why I love you”, he says as he pours himself a cup, ‘This and your wonderful bosom.”

“Gossard, do you want me to maim you as well?” I say as I pick up another pillow. 

“Just stating the obvious”, he says as he takes a sip. Ament is watching the whole scene from the bed. “Well, he does have a point”, he mutters.

“AMENT!”

“It’s true!”

“You want me to tell your girlfriend?”

“Oh, but she agrees.”

“What?”

“You know, late at night, when we’re in bed together, it’s a frequent point of discussion. Always gives us enough energy to go another round”, he says with the biggest smile.

“Fuck off!” I shout and launch myself at him, trying to suffocate him with the pillow. I hear Gossard’s laughter next to us.

“When you’ve finished your murder attempt, can I use your cassette player, I’ve got a new singer to find”, he states dryly. I give up trying to kill Ament and look at Stone, but not before giving Ament a punch on the shoulder. 

“Sure you can use it”, I say as I push back my mop of curls, “But aren’t you gonna listen in the basement, I mean it’s your rehearsal space after all. It’s got better acoustics.”

“Acoustics don’t matter when listening to a fucking tape. And also I can’t”, he says as he’s fishing a few tapes out of his backpack. 

“What do you mean you can’t?” Jeff and I say in unison.

“I forgot my keys”, Stone says, “and Ament always forgets his keys, so the conclusion is that there is no way of getting into the rehearsal space.”

“One of these days you guys are gonna walk out on stage in your underwear without instruments.” I shake my head. I know it may be a bit snobbish to think, but sometimes these guys would be nothing without me. Well no exactly me, it’s mostly my apartment. Without it they’d have no coffee, no toilet -because the gallery won’t let them use it any more after McCready’s sangria incident-, no shower in case one of them slept on the couch. No First Aid kit -which they need a lot. And most importantly no coffee.

“So Lola’s gonna listen with us?” Jeff asks.

“Obviously, we can’t chase her out of her own apartment. Also I might be good to have someone outside of the band help us, more of an audience opinion. At least if you want?” Stone turns to me.

“I’d be delighted”, I say as I put my legs into lotus position and lean against the wall.

“How do you even do that?” Ament looks at me with utter confusion. 

“Yoga”, I simply say. I take my packet of cigarettes of my nightstand, take one out and light it. I look up and see the guys looking at me with puppy eyes. After an overdramatic sigh I toss them the packet and the lighter. Another thing they need me for, their nicotine fix. 

Once the cigarettes are lit, and after I place the ashtray with lost of obvious gestures next to them (if I didn’t my entire apartment would be the ashtray), Stone puts the first tape into the cassette player. After about 30 seconds of McCready’s guitar a voice starts singing. It takes Jeff 10 more seconds to shout: “Andy copycat, next!”

Stone nods and takes out the tape, putting another one in. And so we sit there for about half an hour, listening to the tapes. Most of which aren’t played completely. Music is an intuitive thing and if they don’t feel it within the first minute or so, they’re never gonna feel it. 

Eventually Stone takes out the last tape. It’s a white cassette, on it writing in black marker. “Okay”, Stone says with a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, “so this is from a guy named Eddie.”

“Not really a rock name”, Jeff says sounding bored. He’s hanging upside down from the edge of my bed, his hat miraculously still attached to his head. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me right?” I say at Jeff’s comment.

“How so?”

“Eddie. Very rock. It’s the name of Meatloaf’s character in The Rocky Horror Picture Show!”

“You mean the messed up rockabilly biker?”

“Yes… Messed up, but the girls love him”, I say as I wiggle my eyebrows.

“Meatloaf?”

“Also, but I meant a guy on a motorcycle serenading me and calling me Hot Patootie.”

“You have very strange taste in men.”

“It’s not all about looks, though it doesn’t hurt. But you should be happy it’s not all about looks, how else would you have a girlfriend?”

Jeff is about to wrestle me, when Stone interrupts us. “Can we just listen to this tape, before you try to kill each other again, it’s the last one.” Jeff and I get off each other and put ourselves into civil positions. 

“Thank you”, Stone says and looks back at the tape, “So this is the guy Jack recommended us.”

“The one from San Diego?” Jeff chimes in.

“Yup, anyhow he named this the momma-son trilogy. Titles: Alive, Once and Footsteps.”

“Good names, very rock”, Jeff states, “Play it!”

“No, actually I was gonna shove it up my ass for sexual pleasure, of course I’m gonna play it”, Stone states in his usual sarcasm drenched tone as he pops the cassette into the player and lights his cigarette.

It’s about the twelfth time today I hear McCready’s opening guitar and it’s still genius to me. I need to tell him, well maybe not, it might inflate his ego too much. 

My thoughts come to a screeching halt once the voice on the tape starts singing. “Oh my god”, I whisper. Jeff launches himself at the cassette player shouting at Stone: “Turn it up!” Stone is awakened from his shock and does as Ament tells him. Without noticing I’ve crawled closer towards the cassette player as well. We’re all hanging above the damn thing, trying to absorb as much of this voice as possible. It’s the first tape we actually listen completely. It’s just mesmerizing. His voice, the lyrics, the emotion. Fucking hell, this guy is coming from a deep place. 

It takes us all a minute to realize the tape is finished. Jeff and Stone are looking at each other in shock, but with huge grins plastered across their face. Eventually they look at me. I nod at them like crazy.

“This is it. This is your guy.”

[mookie--jam]

Chapter 5 (Part 4): Paris and Waits (Empty Canvas)

Eddie and I walk into the living room. But only after I made him triple check I didn’t look like a mess. I’ve known him for two days and he’s already taking over Jeff’s job as my personal checker. 

“You sure I don’t look like a raccoon?” I asked him. There was this weak smile on his lips, probably caused by pity for the crying girl and nothing more. 

“You look a little more punk than usual, but far from a raccoon. And trust me no one will notice, they’re all too drunk to do so.”

And with those last words of reassurance we went back into the living room. He was right about the drunk part, or at least intoxicated. Cornell was sitting on his couch, stoned to the bejesus. Corrine is in Jeff’s arms on the other side of the couch, both fast asleep. And Gossard is dancing to Donna Summer, all by himself. Normally I’d join him because I fucking love Donna Summer, but I’m not really in the mood right now.

“Where’s the Pizza Van Driver of Doom?” I ask Eddie, inquiring about our ride home.

“Ah, yes, Michelangelo. He’s drunk out of his mind, cuddling Jerry in Chris’s bathtub”, Eddie explains. 

“So basically we’ve got no ride home”, I point out.

“I’m afraid you’re right”, he says, scratching the back of his neck, a gesture I’ve become already very fond of.

“In that case we’ll be walking”, I simply state and I’m already heading towards the kitchen, where Cornell put all our jackets in his broken oven. At least now he gets some use out of the damn thing. Eddie’s right behind me.

“You sure you’re able to?” he asks me as I hand him his sleeveless leather jacket and extra flannel.

“To walk? Eddie, I was just crying, it’s not like I twisted my fucking ankle. I’m perfectly capable to walk”, I snap at him. I shouldn’t have done that. He spent the last half hour consoling me without even having a fucking clue about what I was crying about. Now we’re walking home together and the only thing I can do is snap at him. Fuck, Lola, keep up like this and he’ll soon enough hate your guts. 

“I was just asking, also to make sure if you knew the way”, he says as he’s putting on his flannel. If only he knew how many times I’d walked from my place to this place. I would be able to find my way here blind folded.

“Sorry…” I mumble, “But yes, I know the way. Don’t worry.”

We’ve now both put on our jackets and turn to face the living room again. Donna Summer’s voice has faded away. The only sound that can be heard now is the needle scratching the end of the vinyl. Stone has collapsed next to Cornell, he’s kind of cuddling up to him. If I only I could see their faces when they wake up practically kissing each other. I would be pure comedy gold. But I want to go home. I need to go home. Every minute I’ve spent in this apartment since my break down has felt like agony. Like something is slowly crushing me, pushing all air out of my body. 

“There’s no point in waking them up, let’s go”, Eddie says reading my mind. He puts his hand on my shoulder and guides me out of the door. 

We spent our way down the stairs in silence and the same goes for the first minutes of our walk. We’ve got about half an hour to go. Even though it’s only October, the temperature at night feels like the middle of the winter. Especially with the foggy rain that has started falling. It’s the kind of rain that doesn’t feel wet, but slowly and surely will get you soaked. 

“You’re shivering”, Eddie points out. I had no idea I was until he said so. My arms are wrapped around myself, hugging my torso tightly trying to get some heath through the thin leather jacket I’m wearing. I don’t go out this late much any more, I’ve forgotten how to dress for it.

“I’m fine”, I mumble, rubbing my hands on my upper arms, trying to warm myself by the friction. Eddie abruptly stops walked and places a hand on my shoulder, stopping me as well. 

“No you’re not”, he says and takes my hands in his. 

“Your hands are like fucking ice cubes”, he states, trying to rub some warmth into them. He brings them up to his mouth, blowing on them a little, the warmth of his breath warming them up ever so slightly. 

“Eddie…” I try to tell him I’m fine again but he’s not having it. He drops my hands and opens up his jacket, taking it off and starts taking of the brownish-green flannel he’s wearing underneath. He hands it to me.

“Put this on underneath your jacket”, he instructs me, a level of seriousness is evident in his voice. I’ve never really heard him like this before. I do as he says and take off my jacket to put it on underneath. He puts his jacket on as well.

“It looks good on you”, he says, the seriousness gone now. It’s replaced by a smile. I look down at the outfit. The black floral dress with red roses on it, indeed somehow works with the flannel and my leather jacket. Though it’s way too big for me. I should have expected that. He has quite broad shoulders and likes to buy his clothes on the big side. It’s almost as long as the dress I’m wearing. But I’m much warmer already. 

“It kinda does, but are you sure you’re gonna be fine. I mean you’re not really used in cold weather like this in San Diego. You’re gonna get sick”, I state following after him as he’s already started walking again. 

“I spent half of my life in Chicago. I’ll be fine”, he states, looking at me. In the moonlight his blue eyes seem darker than usual, but still as mesmerizing as ever. 

“You lived in Chicago, I didn’t know that”, I say kind of surprised. I just always saw him as this California surfer, not as someone who walked the icy streets of Chicago during winter.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me”, he says and there’s the heaviness in his voice I can tell his thinking about something dark. “There’s also a lot I don’t know about you”, he adds after a short silence, adding a smile.

“Yeah that’s kind of true. But it’s weird. Even though I’ve known you for such a short time, it feels… It feels like…” I can’t get the words out of my mouth, afraid he’s gonna laugh at me.

“Like we’ve know each other so much longer”, he says turning to me. There’s this sparkle in his eye. 

“Exactly, I have the same thing!” Thank God he somehow feels it as well. I thought I was going insane. We’re both smiling at each other like two crazy people, probably both feeling like a lunatic as well, but we’re not scaring each other away. 

“Maybe we knew each other in past lives”, Eddie suggests out of the blue, laughing, he’s got a great laugh. 

“Perhaps we did”, I say. I’ve now looped my arm through his and I’m kinda leaning into him. Partially because of the cold, partially because I want to be closer to him. He doesn’t seem to mind. “Okay, who do you think we were?”

“Who?” he asks looking down at me, a little confused. 

“Who were we in our past lives?” I say hesitantly. Maybe I should not push this thing too far, because I’m risking sounding like an actual lunatic.

“Hmmm…. Let’s think we need something good”, he says, agreeing to go along with my thoughts, which makes me smile.

“Indeed we do”, I say pondering over the possibility of a past life with Eddie, or just a life with Eddie in general, now in this moment. But I can’t, I can’t let him in too much. For my own good and for his as well. Us two would just lead to misery… Or maybe it’d lead to something wonderful. I shake my head internally… It can’t. You’ve already had your shot.

“We were a pianist and an artist in Paris during the roaring twenties”, Eddie suddenly says excitedly. It felt like he hit the hammer on the head. It made complete sense. 

“Yes! I could see that. You played Jazz in clubs like le Chat Noir and I was a painter up in Montmartre”, I say, slowly starting to sketch the image that is taking form in my head. I let go of my fear of sounding crazy. In the worst case scenario I can always blame it on a lack of sleep or alcohol.

“We met up every morning in a little café. We sat outside no matter what kind of weather, just to smoke and watch the people pass by”, he adds without even having to think that much. The thing is that I could see us do that now. Just going to a coffee shop and sitting on the terrace, having a smoke and a cup of coffee. Talking about nothing and everything at the same time. 

“And we went out every night and were friends of Hemingway and Picasso”, I say. I’ve noticed that through our excitement we’ve started walking faster. But I don’t want to get home.

“I bet you looked gorgeous in a flapper dress”, he says chuckling a little. “Also you desperately tried to cheer up Hemingway, sensing that he was coming down with some kind of depression.” I laugh out loud at that last comment and he does the same thing. God we’re awful people to laugh about such a thing, the man ended up killing himself. 

“And you tried to do the same thing for Zelda Fitzgerald”, I add. She also died horribly, but it wasn’t suicide. She died in a fire in a mental institution, where she was being treated for her own suicidal tendencies. Talk about irony.

“Do you think we were lovers?” Eddie asks out of the blue. Thank God it’s dark outside because  the thought alone makes me blush a little.

“I don’t know, we might have been”, I say hesitantly, waiting tot see where he’s going with this. 

“I can see that”, he says and it puts this stupid smile on my lips. I can’t, please don’t. Please. “We used to come back from a partying to your place in Montmartre or wherever the fuck my place was and then stay up all night talking… Making love…” That last one he adds hesitantly and I give him a gentle jab with my elbow before looking up at him. He’s already looking at me, a smile plastered across his face. 

“I obviously had one of those long satin robes”, I say kind of drifting away from the insinuation of us making love. I love that he said making love instead of fucking. Though honestly, fucking would’ve been fine. 

“I unfortunately had nothing as such, so I’d just be naked all the time”, he says laughing once again. Well past me certainly wouldn’t have minded it. Present me neither. 

“Sheets wrapped around you like a toga”, I add laughing, trying to lighten the mood again. Not that the mood isn’t light. It’s just that I practically can hear Johnny’s voice in the back of my head going: “I swear to God, you should’ve seen the two of them, you could cut the sexual tension with a knife.”  But the thing is you can’t. There’s no sexual tension. Well maybe from my part yes, but certainly not from Eddie’s part. He certainly doesn’t see me in that way. 

“Oh yes, how very Greek of me, though I’d mostly just try to keep that robe on the ground, because that is where it looked best and also so that I wasn’t alone in my state of nudity.” No he’s just joking, we are only joking. He doesn’t want to sleep with me. I mean look at him, he can get way better than me. 

“Scandalous…” I mumble my reply.

“Speaking of scandalous”, he practically immediately adds. Oh god, where is he going with this? “Past me will have made an honest woman out of you, considering the times and that he was madly in love”, he says matter of factly. I probably shouldn’t go further with his, or I’m gonna actually make him think I’m crazy.

“Well how did he ask?” I ask, not being able to hold back my curiosity. This is the first time anyone has ever discussed the possibility of me being proposed to. People generally don’t perceive me as girlfriend material, so let alone marriage material. I’m curious.

“Well on one of those nights, lying in bed together, that’s for sure”, he says immediately, before pondering for a bit. “I think past me would’ve gotten past you one single peony and tied the ring to it with a little bow or something.” For fuck’s sake can he even get any more perfect?

“Good move, past me certainly wouldn’t have declined”, I says smiling just at the thought of it all. Then reality hits me again. No, this is not yours to have. You had your one chance and it was taken from you. No one could ever be that lucky to get another one. And even if I were, it’d only end in sadness again. I can just feel it.

“Do you think we lived a long and happy life”, Eddie asks me after a bit of silence. Somehow he must’ve been thinking of something sombre as well, since the excitement in his voice is gone. He now sounds more melancholic. 

“Longish but not too long”, I say quickly.

“Why not long?” he asks me puzzled, a bit of sadness even in his voice.

“Because both of our past lives died in the sixties in order for us to have been born”, I simply explain. Past Eddie died in 1963, leaving past me to live the last five years of my past live all alone. Lucky her, only five years. My solitude will be much longer.

“So where are you from”, he asks out of the blue, completely changing the subject. Maybe for the better or I might get stuck in the fantasy. 

“Huh?” I ask, not completely getting where he’s coming from. But then I remember how the whole past lives conversation started. With him saying he lived half his life in Chicago.

“You’re not a Seattle native, that I know from Stone, so where are you from?” he asks me again.

“New York”, I simply say and I notice we’re nearly home. I lean into his side a bit more, trying to get as much out of these last minutes as possible. 

“Really?” He sounds very surprised. Most people do. “You don’t have the accent.”

“What do you expect me to do? Pull a Dustin Hoffman and shout out ‘I’m walking here’” I exclaim giving my best (which coincidentally is also my worst) New York accent. He laughs, but stops once he realizes we’re in front of the gallery. I’m looking for my keys in my bag. I can’t see a damn thing in thing in this darkness.

“Lola?” Eddie says softly and I pull my head out of my bag to look at him.

“Yeah”, I say as I keep rummaging around the bag without looking.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it right now. Maybe you’ll never want to talk about it. But know that if you ever feel the need to let it all out, I’ll be right there if you want.”

I find my keys during this statement and start unlocking the door. I just nod at his comment, afraid that if I start talking everything will come out right in this instant and he’ll be scared away. I eventually manage to open the back door to the gallery and we both walk in. It’s not until I turn on the lights in the halfway that I notice that we’re both absolutely soaked. The droplets of rain haven’t soaked Eddie’s hair though, they just softly lie on top, like morning dew. There’s this one curl that’s plastered against his forehead. Before realizing what I’m doing I gently tuck it back into the rest of his mane. We just stand there silently for a bit, soaking in the warmth of the building, meanwhile looking at each other with our saying a word.

“Want to come up for a cup of tea?” I eventually ask. I can’t help myself. I don’t want this night to end yet. I haven’t had enough of him. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of him.

“That’d be great”, he says ever so softly, his lips curling into a smile.

We make our way upstairs on the creaky steps that lead up to my apartment. Once inside I drop my bag by the door and take of my jacket, deciding to keep Eddie’s flannel on for a bit longer. I put the jacket over my desk chair and Eddie puts his over mine. At the same moment we both decide to sit down on the floor to take off our Docs. He laughs a little and shakes his head. We’re both probably thinking the same thing. Doc Martens, great fucking shoes, such a fucking pain in the ass to take off. 

Once I’ve managed to remove both my shoes, I stand up and head towards my record player.

“Music?” I ask, even though I know the answer already.

“Yes, please, but something calm. For once I my life I don’t feel like listening to blazing guitars”, he says still sitting on the floor, struggling with the double knot on his left shoe.

“Tom Waits?” I ask already pulling out the record.

“Never listened to him much, so yes”, he says and even though I’m not looking at him I can see him smiling. 

“You’ll love this, it’s called Blue Valentine”, I say and put it on. I get up and now head towards my stove top to put on the kettle. I start preparing the two mugs, putting a bag of tea in each of them and a spoon. I decide to put some honey in them as well. It’s silly but honey always helps me sleep, I guess it’s a remnant of my childhood.

I’m completely lost in Tom Waits’s voice until I hear the ping of the kettle, telling me that the water is now done. I pour it into to the two mugs I’ve prepared and turn around, holding one in each hand. Eddie’s lying on my bed, ever so peacefully. 

“Hey, don’t fall asleep”, I say nudging his side with the tip of my toe.

“I’m not falling asleep, I’m just enjoying the music”, he says. He opens his eyes and looks at me. There’s a little sparkle in them. He pats the space next to him on the bed.

“Come and lie with me for the sake of our past lives”, he says. One part of me wants to laugh and tell him he’s being silly. Yet another part of me just wants to lie there and listen to the music. To his deep breaths and his heart beat. But I can’t. One thing is gonna lead to the other and soon enough I’ll be hooked on him, maybe even worse than I was before. And that’s all fine, until everything inevitably ends.

“Eddie…” I want to tell him I can’t. I want to explain him my fear. I want to let it all out, and yet at the same time and I want to say nothing, because I’ll scare him away.

“Come on…” he says, the corners up his mouth turning upwards as he sees me contemplating.

“Fine”, I say as I put the two mugs down on my night stand and crawl into the bed. 

He’s flat on his back and I’m on my side, his arm wrapped around me, his other hand is playing with my hair. I’m drawing shapeless shapes on his chest, leaning into him. I can hear his heart beat. It’s surprisingly fast, for someone in such a seemingly relaxed position. 

The third song on the record comes on and shivers run down my spine.

“God I love this song”, I whisper into his chest.

“What’s it called?” he asks and I can feel his head turning towards me. I look up at him.

“Christmas Card from a Hooker in Minneapolis.”

“That’s a mouthful”, he says, chuckling a little before going back to his completely relaxed state.

And we just lay there, listening to Tom Waits sing the letter from the hooker aloud. I don’t even hear the end of the song, because by the end of it I’m fast asleep in Eddie’s arms. 

[mookie--jam]

Chapter 5 (Part 3): Duct Tape and the Broken Girl (Empty Canvas)

I hate fucking duct tape. After the whole ABBA lap dance thing, which to be quite fair was fucking hilarious, they have freed me from the chair. But they have not freed me from the piece of duct tape that’s stuck to my mouth. I’m now in Cornell’s bathroom, looking at myself in the mirror, contemplating how to free myself from this contraption without too much agony. The thing is that the tape is also stuck in the tuft of hair on my chin. This is what I get for having the vanity to grow a soul patch. If the guys keep pulling tricks like this, I’ll never, ever grow facial hair again. 

There’s a knock on the bathroom door. I want to say ‘come in’, but the sound I manage to produce is something along the lines of: “Hmmhmmm.”

The person at the door sees it as their permission to enter and Lola walks through the door. God, she’s beautiful. Her floral dress doesn’t show much cleavage, though there’s a bit, but it makes her collar bones stand out. They seem so delicate and I wish I was a more talented drawer than I am, because if I was I’d spend hours sketching them. I’d draw all of her. First a personal study of everything individually. The ringlets of her curly mop of hair, laid across her back. Her slim hands and long fingers. The sharp line of her jaw, her soft full lips, her cute little upturned nose - I bet she gets freckles when it’s sunny, but only on her nose probably. I’d draw her eyes, those big soft doe eyes. I’d draw her as a whole, lying in bed, nothing covering her but a thin sheet as she lays on her side, thin rays of moonlight shining onto her. Her hair would be sprawled around her on the pillow, her exposed back facing me, displaying the soft curves of her body to its fullest. She’d turn around and whisper in a sleepy voice: “Eddie, what are you doing? Come back to bed.” I’d oblige to her command immediately, crawling in behind her, holding her close. “I’m sorry”, I’d say, “I just wanted to document your beauty.” She’d let out a soft sleepy laugh, mumble something along the lines of: “Idiot”, in a sweet voice before nestling closer into my embrace and let out a little happy sigh. I’d caress the softness of her thighs and waist. I’d kiss her neck, just giving her tiny soft little pecks to soothe her back to sleep after waking her up. And that little spot just behind her ear…

“Oh Eddie, they’ve screwed you over, haven’t they?” Lola says sweetly, a bit of laughter in her voice and I’m pulled from my dreams, back to reality. I just nod at her, knowing that speaking is useless.

“And what’s your tactic about how to assess this situation?” she asks me, now leaning against the sink less than a foot away from me. I gesture with my hand, making a ripping motion.

“Auwch”, she laughs and I nod. 

“But you haven’t done it yet, because you’re scared?” I nod again, I must look like a fucking bobble head. She turns to me more directly now, looking straight at me.

“Do you want me to do it? Just one swift motion, but without any mercy so it’ll be over before you’d know it?”

Once again I nod. It’s gonna have to come off sooner or later. I can’t sing with a mouth shut closed by fucking duct tape. But I’ll never be able to do so, I’d be too hesitant. And of all the people here tonight, I trust Lola most to do it. She places one hand on the side of my face with the other she takes a corner of the piece of duct tape. 

“I’m so sorry”, she says with a small voice, before ripping the piece of duct tape off my mouth in one swift motion. At first it doesn’t hurt, but after two seconds the stinging sensation kicks in.

“Fuck”, I mutter hoarsely. I’ve barely said anything and her hand is on my mouth, pushing down ever so slightly.

“To keep it from swelling, just for a second”, she explains and I nod for what I hope is the last time in a bit. I feel like a broken record of gestures. We stand there silently for a second. With any other person at this party this would feel incredibly awkward, but not with Lola. We’re looking at each other, amusement is evident in her eyes. They’re this soft, but very rich amber brown color. I bet they would look gorgeous in the sun. I guess I’ve just had the bad luck of meeting her in Seattle, where the sun barely shines. But I’m looking forwards to the day it does, if only to see it shimmer in her eyes. 

Someone walks into the bathroom unannounced. It’s Johnny, or Seattle’s number one suicidal drag queen as Jerry Cantrell from Alice in Chains said. The thing is that everyone here is actually really fond of Johnny, they just like to tease him a bit for good measure. Apparently Johnny doesn’t mind, but I don’t think I’ll go along with the teasing any time soon. He seems too kind to do so.

He’s still in unfinished drag, by the looks of it he just needs a wig, some clothing and shoes. He’s holding a bottle of wine in one hand and that damned roll of duct tape in the other. Johnny looks at Lola and I and I’m expecting him to burst out in laughter, but instead his voice has a very understanding tone when he speaks.

“Trying to stop the swelling?” he asks as if it’s the most logical explanation for the situation.

“Yup”, Lola says, still looking at me.

“Well, I’m just gonna do my business over there, so don’t mind me”, he says and gestures to the bathtub. He steps in and pulls the shower curtain shut. After a second I hear him ripping some of the pieces of duct tape. Lola slowly releases her hand from my mouth. 

“And it worked, your lips are still in tact. And they still look botox free”, she says with a smile. I take a quick glance in the mirror. Everything seems as it was before. The hair on my chin as well.

“Thanks”, I mumble, rubbing my chin a little for good measure. Another tear of duct tape is heard from the other side of the shower, along with the suffering of a curtain as Johnny seems to take another position.

“Johnny, are you okay in there?” I ask, because I’ve got absolutely no clue what the hell he’s doing in there.

“Yeah, splendid, my darling, I’m just tucking”, he says. As if this explains it.

“What the hell is tucking?” I ask and Johnny just starts cackling. I turn to Lola, who’s also holding back a bit of laughter. 

“I’ll explain”, she says. She clears her throat a bit to get rid of laughter and I just look at her in confusion. “So you know how a guy has a bulge when they wear clothing, and women are flat”, she starts. Where the hell is this going?

“So as a drag queen you want to give the ‘illusion’ that you are a female. But the fantasy kinda gets ruined when you look down and clearly see a dick down there. So what drag queens do is that they try to make it ‘flat’…” Now she starts laughing again. I get where’s she’s coming from with the story but I don’t see where the duct tape comes into play.

“So what they do, is that they push their balls up in the caverns where they came from once they dropped and then they tape their dick back towards their ass. And to hold it all in place, they use duct tape”, she finishes her explanation. During that last bit somewhere between balls and dick my face has contorted into a painful expression. God, that must hurt. My respect for drag queens has increased tenfold in the last minute. And then the realization hits me.

“Wow, wait… Is he using the same duct tape as before?”

“Yes, and I’ve been using that roll for a while now. Surprising it lasts that long, considering the fact that I have a lot to hold back”, Johnny laughs as he comes out of the bathtub, very flat indeed.

“Oh poor Eddie”, Lola giggles as she strokes my back. Johnny hands me his wine bottle which is nearly full.

“Here, honey, drink up, it’ll help you forget and disinfect”, Johnny says, giving me a smile and one last laugh, before he starts putting on a dress. I take his advice and start drinking.

***

It’s a few hours later now. Johnny, or Sandy from Greece as he is now in full drag, left the party shortly after the duct tape incident to go to work. Meanwhile the party has gone on. Some of the highlights were when Ament started making about his girlfriend, still dressed up as Agneta and Mike -still Frida- started causing a scene, accusing Agneta of cheating on her. It took us 15 minutes and the help of Cornell’s ABBA record (why does he even own an ABBA record) to explain to him that Agneta and Frida were not lesbians, and each of them was instead married to one of the male band members. I’ve never seen anyone so shocked over ABBA. 

To get rid of his shock, Mike started downing shots with Cantrell and Starr. I don’t know where they got it, but all of the sudden they had a bottle of absinthe on hand. Needless to say that after a bit all three of them ran to the bathroom to puke their guts out. But the hallucinogenic properties of the absinthe have seemed not to have disappeared after they vomited their entire stomach content into the bathtub. Cornell rinsed out the bathtub for them and last time I check -when I inevitably had to pee- Cantrell and McCready were spooning in the bathtub, talking about Tinkerbell and Starr was passed out on Cornell’s bathmat. He had somehow managed to take down the shower curtain and was now using it as a blanket. 

Stone told me there’s a possibility that we might eventually tour with the Alice guys and I don’t know if my liver will ever be able to survive such a tour. 

Another highlight was when Gossard and Matt Cameron from Soundgarden started doing a very passionate tango. Matt had taken the lead, Stone was his lovely lady. He’s a surprisingly good dancer. But the thing that cracked me up was that because there wasn’t a rose anywhere to be found, Stone put Cornell’s feather duster between his teeth.

Cornell’s reaction was pure gold: “Oh for fuck’s sake Brick, I use that to clean my records”, and when he realized that Stone couldn’t care less he decided to make the best out of the situation. “Well now that you’re at it, could you dust the top of that cabinet, it’s mouth level.”

The party continued, others started leaving and everything started getting more relaxed, which I like. Alice in Chains have left, except for Jerry who’s still cuddling McCready in the bathroom and Starr who’s fast asleep. The rest of Soundgarden has left as well and some of the other people I didn’t have a chance to talk to. So now it’s basically Mookie Blaylock, Chris and the girls. Well girl.

I had kind of followed Lola around the room, always seeing what she was up to. God I sound like a stalker, the thing is that I just can’t take my eyes off of her, and alcohol isn’t stopping me. Anyhow she generally seemed to have a good time, until all of the sudden something shifted when we were all singing along to Your Song by Elton John. This somberness came over her and she disappeared. I haven’t seen her in about half an hour.

“Where’s Lola?” I eventually ask Chris who’s sitting next to me on the couch, rolling a spliff. This would be a good time to tell him about my encounter with Joe Strummer, but I’ll save it for later. 

“She’s in Andy’s room”, he says, still focussed on the joint, gently rolling it between his fingers. Andy, I’ve heard about him. He was the singer of Stone and Jeff’s old band Mother Love Bone, before he passed away in March when he OD’d. Fuck, drugs can cause some fucking messed up situations. Whenever Jeff talks about him, he nearly ends up in tears. They also mentioned somewhere along the line that he was Chris’s roommate at that he’s still hard broken, him probably most of all. No they said secondly… They grew silent when it came to the first person.

“Shouldn’t someone go check on her, maybe she passed out”, I say, trying to avoid the subject of Andy.

“Oh no it’s not that”, Cornell simply says, shaking his head, as he now looks up at his perfectly rolled joint. For someone with such huge hands he’s got quite the finesse. 

“What is it then?”, I ask. I know I shouldn’t be prying but I can’t help myself. I want to know what’s going on. Most of all I want to make sure that Lola is all right.

“Oh, God Chris I think he doesn’t know”, Corrine, Jeff’s girlfriend, who’s sitting next to Chris says, sounding a little distressed.

“Don’t know what?” I’m usually not a nosy person, but I have the feeling this is crucial information. 

“It’s not our place to tell him”, Cornell says, partially turned to Corrine, but also addressing me.

“I don’t care of you want to tell me or not. She’s been in there by her self for almost half an hour, I’m gonna go check on her”, I simply say, fed up with their sphinx like riddle behavior.

I remove myself from the couch and make my way over to what I assume is the door to Andy’s room. It’s the only door in the apartment I haven’t been able to assign a function to. In my frenzy I even forget to knock, but I somehow have the control to at least slowly open the door. 

And there she is, sitting on the bed. It’s put up against the wall. The room is void of any personal touches. The walls are different hues of color, you can clearly tell there used to be posters up that that were taken down. There’s a closet, a desk, a nightstand and a bed. That’s it. 

Lola’s sitting against the headboard, her knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around her knees. By the way her body heaves and shakes, I can tell she’s crying. It’s not even crying, it’s just straight up hysterical sobbing. 

“Lola?” I say her name as if it was a question for some reason, in a soft voice, trying not to scare her, or send me away. She lifts her head a little from her knees and looks at me. It feels like taking a bullet to the chest, seeing her like this. 

“Are you okay?” I ask, even though I know the answer and it’s that she’s not. She bites her lips and shakes her head no, more tears coming out of the corners of her eyes. I quickly make my way over to the bed and sit down next to her on the mattress. I put a hand on her back and start rubbing little circles with my thumb. I don’t know what to say, or really what to do. It’s only that I’ve found that in these kinds of situations, people usually crave physical contact. It’s at least what I need whenever I get like this.

She slowly turns around, untangling herself from her position. She’s now directly facing me. Her mascara has smudged, her nose is red, her eyes and lips are a little puffy, but she’s still beautiful to me.

“Hey”, I whisper, trying to somewhat soothe her as I tuck back a lock of her hair behind her ear and give her a smile. She tries to smile back, but her lips tremble too much. She softly places herself against my chest, her head nestling at the top of it, partially between my neck and shoulder. I pull her closer, not ever wanting to let her go.

“I’m sorry”, she whispers through her tears. I place a kiss on top of her hair. I might be overstepping boundaries, but I’m going with my gut feelings on this one, and this feels like what she needs right now. “It’s okay”, I whisper, my lips still hovering above where I just placed the kiss. “It’s all gonna be okay.”

I feel her head shake no again, not being able to say anything else. Normally I’d try to convince her otherwise, but that doesn’t seem like the right thing to do right now. So I just hold her, and let her cry, because it seems like that is what she needs right now. I know it has something to do with Andy. But right now I can only guess as to what happened. It seems like the others don’t want to tell me and that Lola should be the one to do so. But she needs time, and I’ll give her all the time she needs. 

Eventually I feel her sobbing is calming down, her hiccupy breaths turn to normal. I softly bring my hand to the side of her face, gently urging her to look at me. It’s like I’m holding porcelain, she feels so frail, so breakable. I know she’s not, but right now she seems to be. 

“The party’s died down, most people have left. Let’s go home as well”, I say to her, wiping away her tears with my thumb. I feel her lean into my hand ever so softly as she nods.

“Let’s go home”, she whispers.

[mookie--jam]

Chapter 4: Whoopsie Daisy (Empty Canvas)

My second day in Seattle started out calm. Everything was maybe running too smoothly. A calm before the storm as it were. The storm that was hanging above my head was a party. Come on, Vedder how bad can it be? It’s just a party. With a bunch of people you’ve never met, who all know each other and are very curious to meet you. Great.

When I woke up in the basement of the Potato Head gallery I was disoriented for a good five minutes before realizing where I was. Seattle, yup, right, how could I forget? The first thing that I noticed was the lack of ocean sounds. Usually I’d wake up to waves crashing onto the beach. They’d call my name like nymphs from a Greek myth: “Eddie, come here Eddie! Come and play with us. You love us and we love you!” It’s been one day and I already miss it. 

I made my way upstairs to the desk of the gallery where there indeed was a guy named Trevor who handed me the keys to Lola’s apartment as she told me the night before. I went to her apartment still half asleep and opened the door. The feeling that I was intruding woke me up. I’ve known this girl for a day and here I am, in her apartment alone. It felt strange. But it told me something about her as well. She was not one to easily mistrust people. Some people might see that as a naive trait, I see it as a hopeful one. It tells me she doesn’t automatically believe in the worst of people. That’s good, because I like her and if my dark side ever comes out I might not scare her away, though I probably will. Most people are scared away by it. 

I see a thermos on the stove of her kitchenette with a yellow post it on it. The writing on it is kinda messy. 

Fresh coffee for a fresh start. Cereal in the upper cabinet, milk in the side of the fridge. Enjoy your breakfast! -Lola

There was a little smiley on the bottom as well. Maybe she is too good for the world, after all she’s feeding a practical stranger. I follow the instructions on the post it and thus succeed in making myself breakfast. After finishing it I immediately do the dishes, also the ones that were left by Lola from what seems last night and this morning. It’s the least I can do. 

Then something catches my eye. It’s something I noticed last night as well. Her record collection, it’s neatly organized in a cabinet next to her bathroom door. Upon closer inspection I see that she has organized everything alphabetically according to artist name. Beginning with ABBA ending with Zeppelin and everything in between. It’s a great collection, though it has some questionable additions, but I have a feeling they have an explanation. We’ve got Blondie, Bon Jovi (slightly questionable, though great when drunk), The Clash, The Doors, Jefferson Airplane, Janis Joplin, Santana, Jimi Hendrix, The Ramones… The list goes on and on. Also Barry Manilow for some reason, very questionable. But then it hits me. Her name was Lola, she was a show girl. And sure enough when I look on the back, there it is, Copacabana. I also find a record by The Kinks and again as expected Lola is on there. Towards the end of her collection I find something that puts a stupidly large grin on my face. Quadrophenia by The Who, without a doubt my favorite album in the world. The cover of the album has some wear and tear on it, it seems well loved. I decide to put it on and I’m hit by the all to familiar sounds of Pete Townshends guitar. And for the first time since arriving in Seattle I feel completely at home. 

I start singing along and eventually make my way to Lola’s bathroom and shower. It’s a necessity because I can nearly smell my own stench. The cold sweat from a horrible night’s sleep clung to my back. I get lost in the music and in my thoughts and the cleansing powers of the water that go beyond just hygiene at this point. 

Eventually I decide that I’m clean enough and that I’m just wasting water at this point. I wrap a towel around my waist and one around my head. The skill of the hair hat was taught me by my ex-girlfriend. And luckily it’s been kept secret between the two of us. I’m reminded that there’s still some coffee left and head out of the bathroom straight for the thermos, still humming along with The Who. Just at the moment I’m pouring myself another cup the door opens and in comes Lola. Oh shit!

From the look on her face those are her thoughts exactly as she’s standing there in the doorway, in her hotel uniform, with grocery bags on one arm and a bunch of daisies in the other. If someone walked in on us now, they’d die of laughter. A shocked girl standing in the doorway, walking in on a half naked guy, drinking coffee whilst singing along to The Who. 

“Hi”, I say because my mind can’t think of anything else to say, and my body can’t think of anything else to do than wave at her. Vedder, you’re an idiot! Lola slowly closes the door behind her and puts her grocery bag by the door. The flowers are still in her hands. I pick up the vase by the window sill I saw earlier and reach it out to her. “Looking for this?” I ask her.

At this point she bursts into a hysterical fit of laughter and I do the same. Jesus fucking Christ. We know each other less than 24 hours and she walks in on my half naked and my first reaction is to help her look for a vase. I’d better look for my dignity. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you’d be back already”, I mumble in between laughing fits. 

“I had a half shift today because I was filling in for a colleague”, she explains, wiping tears from her eyes. Eventually the laughter dies down and luckily the awkwardness is lifted.

“Eddie”, she eventually says. 

“Yeah”, I say taking another sip of coffee whilst it still hot.

“Might I suggest you put on some clothing, because the towel on your waist is getting dangerously loose.” I look down and indeed, the towel is looser and lower than it first was, probably from the laughter. “Right”, I say, quickly putting the coffee on the counter. “Give me a second”, I say and I quickly run for her bathroom door. Just a I’m closing the damn door as the towel drops, let’s just hope she didn’t see anything. I quickly put on my clothes and pull the other towel out of my hair. 

I awkwardly open the door again. “I’m so, so sorry”, I mumble, my full embarrassment sinking back in. 

“It’s fine”, she says. She’s standing by the window sill now, arranging the daisies she brought in, “it’ll remain our little secret.” She turn around and gives me a wink before continuing arranging the flowers.

“Those are nice, did your boyfriend leave them at your work?” I ask, walking a little closer to her.

“Nope, no boyfriend to give me flowers, so I just buy myself some every now and then. You know to cheer up the place. And to give unknowing people the illusion that I’m dating someone.” She lets out a little laugh.

“So are daisies your favorite?”

“No, peonies. But I only get those on my birthday. You know, to keep them special.”

“And when’s that?”

“When’s what?” she asks finally taking her eyes off the flowers and looking straight at me.

“Your birthday.”

“December 3rd.”

“That’s coming up quite soon. Like a month and a half.”

“Yup, finally I’ll be 21 so I can at last buy my own damn wine.” I laugh at that. I understand her frustration completely. I used to have it back in the day as well, even over the same beverage.

“And yours?” she asks.

“What? What mine?” I ask kind of out of it. 

“Your birthday, when is your birthday?” she asks me, as she takes a packet of cigarettes out of her nightstand. She takes one out and offers me one as well, which I do not decline. 

“December 23rd”, I answer her and take the lighter from her to light my cigarette. 

“Hey we’re quite close, a twenty day difference.”

“Yeah, but a five year age gap”, I add as I blow out the smoke. 

“So are you nervous about the party?”

“Nervous. Well I don’t know if that quite covers it. I just have no idea what to expect”, I say and take a seat and sit on her bed, she sits next to me.

“Well, how about I give you the general run down?” she asks as she positions herself against the head board and puts her feet in my lap. That’s one thing I’ve noticed about Lola, she doesn’t really care for the concept of personal space and honestly I’m not bothered by it at all. She could sit on my lap and I’d be completely fine. She could sit on my face and I’d be ecstatic. Oh for fuck’s sake, Vedder! One: you know her less than a day. Two: she is one of the best friends of your new band mates and I seriously doubt they’d enjoy you fucking around with her. Three: she seems so much more than someone to just fuck. I know she’s so much more. I just want to know who she is, because ever since I laid eyes on her she’s been on my mind and she won’t get out. Not that I am complaining. I just want to get to know her, I could listen to her all day and not get bored. I just feel it. Yet she has barely told me a thing about herself. I just want to know, I need to know.

“So it’s a party at Cornell’s place. He used to live with Andy, but ever since Andy’s passed he’s been on his own. Anyhow that doesn’t matter. It’s this apartment in Westlake. The place is a complete fucking mess, but it’s got a shitload of charm and a great view. Realistically speaking we’ll get there by 10, even though Cornell said to come around 9. This for two reasons. The first of which is that we’re hitching a ride with Mike and his car is so old and beat up that we’d be better off walking, secondly Cornell himself is always late when it comes to his own parties and thus everyone else is also late. So when we arrive around 10 we’ll probably be one of the first to arrive. Now as for who’s gonna be there… I think I’ll keep that a secret. Also because I suck a describing people. I mean I had to describe you to Cornell yesterday and I made him think you were a junkie.”

“You know, you were right about that”, I say without missing a beat, causing her to choke on her smoke. “I’m kidding, don’t worry.” I quickly reassure he after I see the shock in her eyes. 

“You better be. And I’ll advise you against making such jokes tonight, they might back fire”, she adds putting out the cigarette in the ashtray and lighting a new one. I nod. There’s some things that are left unsaid in this moment. I know a bit of the background information, but I decide not to push on about it. If she ever wants to talk about it, she will. But as far as I can tell that won’t be for a long time. 

“I’m sorry”, I mumble for what seems the umpteenth time today as I put my cigarette out in the ashtray. She immediately offers me a new one. “It’s okay, I’ll explain one day, but not now”, she says and tosses me the lighter. I decide to wait a second to light the cigarette and put it behind my ear. I crawl next to her and wrap my arms around her. “Yesterday you said you were a hugger and you look like you need a hug”, I explain myself. At first she’s a bit rigid, but eventually she leans into my chest and lets out a shaky breath. After a second I feel her head shift to look up at me. There’s small tears in the inner corners of her big bambi eyes. “Thank you”, she mouths before distancing herself a bit more. “Any time.”

“For fuck’s sake Vedder, you’re in Seattle for a day and you’re already making women cry”, I hear Stone from the door. He’s standing there with his arms crossed and his hip jutted out. 

“He’s making me cry with laughter”, Lola quickly adds, trying to cover our tracks, I don’t even know if there’s something to cover, but if she wants to hide this, then I’ll play along. 

“Yeah, I just told her a joke”, I chime in.

“Oh really?” Gossard asks raising his brows, not buying it. “What joke?” 

“Knock knock”, I quickly say.

“Who’s there?”

“To.”

“To who?”

“Well actually it’s to whom.”

“You’ve got her in a fit of cry laughter over a knock knock joke with a grammar punch line?” Stone asks in disbelief. I should’ve pulled out one of my better jokes, I knew it. Lola is nodding. 

“Well if you’re good looking you can get away with bad humor. Anyhow Eddie, rehearsal time.” I nod and stand up, but Lola puts her hand on my arm and gestures me to come closer. I lean in a bit. “Thanks for covering for me”, she whispers in my ear, “I swear I’ll explain later.” 

“Don’t worry about it”, I whisper back. 

“Oh and Vedder”

“Yes?”

“You’ve got a lovely ass”, she whispers before giving me a push towards Stone. “I’ll see you after rehearsal. When we shall officially celebrate your arrival”, she shouts after us as Stone takes me down the stairs. 

“I don’t know what she said that is making you blush like that, and I don’t think I want to know.” 

Good Stone, because you don’t need to know that she saw my naked butt.

[mookie--jam]

Chapter 3: Damn Persistence (Empty Canvas)

I’m just coming out of the shower when I hear the phone ring. I decide to ignore it and let it the machine get the call.

“You know what to do. The beep stuff is self explicatory. Unless you’re calling me from a pay phone at 3 in the morning. In which case you can fuck off! BEEEEEEP” my voice message echoes through my apartment, followed by a familiar male voice.

“Lola. I know you’re at home. Our social circles happen to overlap and everyone has plans tonight but you. So I know you’re just too lazy to pick up the damn phone. Pick up the phone, pick up the phone, pick up the phone, pick up the phone, pick up the phone…”

Oh for fuck’s sake. I know he’s not gonna stop until I pick up. I wrap a towel around my body and continue drying my hair with another one as I eventually pick up the hand set and balance it between my ear and my shoulder. “Cornell, you and your persistence are gonna be the death of me one day”, I say as I drop the towel on the bed and push my mop of hair back. 

“You and your tendency to ignore my phone calls are gonna be my death”, he quickly retorts.

“I was busy”, I say and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My dark blonde hair is a mess as usual. Drops of water are slowly dripping down my shoulders. My torso and upper thighs are covered by the towel, which I’m holding together at my chest.

“Busy doing what? How busy can you be?”

“Well thanks Chris for assuming a lack of activities in my personal schedule.”

“That’s not what I meant. I mean what could you be doing at ten in the evening when you’re not going out that would prevent you from picking up my call.”

“Not so much prevent, more detain.”

“Huh…?”

“I was just getting out of the shower, you idiot.”

“Aha… I see…” I hear him say with a tad of embarrassment in his voice. That embarrassment however quickly makes place for mischievousness. “ Wait, hold on, are you naked?”

“Cornell, does it even matter?”

“A little…”

“Okay, put that dirty mind of yours at rest and save it for Susan. Now Christopher, tell me why you’re granting me the absolute pleasure of your voice at ten in the evening?” I retort with full sarcasm.

“Well I’m calling out of curiosity…”

“Oh, I see”, I say as I light up a cigarette, “You wanna know about the guy’s new singer?”

“Exactly!”

I take a drag of the cigarette. I should’ve know. Cornell has the tendency to put his slightly upturned, mustached nose into everyone’s business. He doesn’t mean any harm with it, curiosity just gets the best of him sometimes. Well actually most times. He does it especially when he’s drunk, which also happens to be most times I see him. He’s just a messy, lovable, curious idiot. Something he has in common with most people in Seattle. Shortly after I moved here about little over a year ago, I quickly discovered that everyone in Seattle knows each other.  Everyone knows Stone, Jeff, Mike and Dave and thus everyone knows that today their new singer from San Diego arrived today. Most people even knew he arrived in the afternoon. 

And everybody knows I live above their rehearsal space -because that’s how I know the band, and because I know the band, I know the rest of the Seattle music scene. Now that I think of it, it’s actually quite surprising that it took Cornell -or anyone for that matter- until now to call.

“So…” Cornell pushes on. I can practically see him inching closer to his phone.

“Well his name is Eddie, but you knew that…”

“Everyone in Seattle knows his name is Eddie. And that he’s from San Diego and that he sings, so please feel free to skip over that information and give me the rest.”

“Well there isn’t much else I know at the moment. I saw him for five minutes.”

“Five minutes is plenty for a first impression.”

“Jesus, Cornell, you and your damn persistence… Well he seems nice…” 

“NICE? That’s all you’re giving me? Nice?” 

“Would you let me finish?”

“Sorry…” he mumbled, “Go on.”

 My thoughts wonder to the guy sitting in the basement with my friends, my new neighbor for an unspecified amount of time. The guy I saw for the first time a couple of hours ago. The way he shyly walked from behind the van. The first thing I noticed, even from the distance of my fire escape were his bright blue eyes. Bright baby blues, the kind of blue you’d see on a little kid, but usually grows more muted over the years. But his were still as bright. I was immediately drawn to them, so much that I climbed down the fire escape just to have a closer look. Something I later on regretted because it took about an hour to defrost my feet. But it was kind of worth it. His eyes were filled with kindness, just as his smile. But there was something else behind those eyes as well. Something that I had heard on the tape two weeks ago. Raw emotion, mainly pain. It didn’t seem to add up, how could someone who seemed so kind and shy have been through all that? Maybe I’d find out one day, maybe never. It’s up to him, because I don’t want to pry. I know how that feels. 

“Well”, I quickly say, getting out of my own mind, “he seems kind of shy. But I think he’ll open up eventually. He’s just moved to a different city so I get that he’s on the fence.”

Cornell doesn’t say anything, but I can just see him sitting there on the side of the phone, nodding, stroking his beard like a wannabe Aristotle. 

“We had a smoke. Apparently he had a horrible flight, but he calmed down after a flight attendant gave him some Xanax.”

“Oh, great, another druggie. That’s exactly what we need after Andy”, Chris lets out.

“CHRIS!” I shout out, baffled by his insensibility. 

“Sorry… I didn’t think that through…” he mutters.

“Well he doesn’t seen like a druggie at all. Don’t get a wrong impression. He’s nice. He’s just shy and nervous. I mean how would you be? Being thrown into this scene without knowing the first thing. And also maybe he has vertigo, we don’t know!” I say, quickly putting some of Eddie’s words into the conversation. Why am I such a mess when it comes to describing people? I’ve been talking about Eddie for two minutes and already gave Cornell the impression that he has a drug addiction. Way to go Lola!

“Okay, vertigo… Sure, seems plausible… Anything else?” I think for a second.

“Not really, I just talked to him for two seconds. Well he seemed a tad bit underdressed for Seattle weather, but he’ll probably will notice sooner or later.”

“When the first cold kicks in”, Chris adds quickly.

“Exactly… And for the rest… Well he’s not really tall…”

“So he’s a dwarf?”

“Cornell, everyone is a dwarf next to you. No he’s taller than me. But I guess I’d be taller than him if I wore a pair of high heels. So like 5 ft 7.”

“So tiny, but not a midget. Well I hope he’ll break out of that shyness so he can overcome the height issue on stage”, Cornell says and I don’t know wether he’s joking or not. 

“And I don’t have much more to add, because we only saw each other for the duration of a cigarette and you know I smoke fast.”

“That’s an understatement.” Cornell stays silent for a while. “So this Eddie needs to come out of his shell?”

“I guess so.. I don’t know, he seems fine to me, just give him a little time.”

“Nah, I’d say we’d speed up the process a little”, Cornell adds, mischievousness seeping through the phone. Oh God no…

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Let’s introduce him to some people and get him out of his shell in the only logical way possible!”

“And that is…”

“ALCOHOL!” Oh God no…

“Chris, the guy has been in Seattle for less than 24 hours and you already want to get him drunk. I mean what’s the guy gonna think? Well I’ll tell you what he’s going to think, he’s gonna think we’re all a bunch of drunks. What kind of first impression is that?”

“A very accurate one”, Chris adds dryly. I give up. “But tonight might be a bit too soon indeed”, he adds.

“Thank God Cornell, you’ve finally found some common sense.”

“That’s why we’ll do it tomorrow. Party for the new kid at my place, I better start calling now. You’ll tell him and the guys right?” Before I can interject Cornell continues: “Okay, great, you’re a dear. Don’t know what I’d do without you. So I’ll see you guys tomorrow night at my place, say around 9 ish? Okay Great! Bye!” Before I can even confirm or talk him out of it he hangs up the phone.

Shit, fucking shit! Cornell why are you the way you are? Goddammit.

I look at my alarm clock on the night stand and realize it’s nearly 10:30. The guys must be done rehearsing and the others will leave any moment. So if I still want to catch them before they leave to make Cornell’s announcement, I have to tell them within five minutes. Fuck you Cornell!

I quickly throw on the same oversized T-shirt I was wearing earlier, this time without the knee socks or the cardigan and run downstairs. 

As I walk down the stairs that lead to the basement, I listen closely, trying to determine wether or not they are still playing. I just hear a few voices, not the singing kind. Knowing  I will not interrupt anything I knock on the door before letting myself in. 

“Lola, you’re too late, we’ve just wrapped up our first rehearsal”, Jeff announces. His voice sounds cheery, so it must’ve been a good rehearsal. Which means he’s in a good mood. Great. This might make it easier for me. 

“Bummer”, I quickly say, walking into the door, but I decide to stay close to the door, ready to make my escape at a moments notice. 

“Thanks for your enthusiasm”, Stone states in his general dry manner. I do a double take when I look at him.

“Stone, did you steal one of my scrunchies again?” I ask, looking at the red piece of fabric that is piling his hair together on top of his head.

“It’s practical”, he simply states before taking the scrunchie out of his hair and throwing it at me. I catch and immediately throw it back. “Why don’t you keep it? See it as a peace offering.”

“Peace offering? What peace offering?” McCready asks. 

“Hi, Mike, how are you, long time no see? Any more sangria stories?” I quickly state, trying to change the subject. 

“What the hell is his deal with sangria, it’s all I’ve been hearing about since I landed here”, Eddie says. He’s sitting on the couch with a look of utter confusion. I’m immediately drawn again to this eyes. Dammit, Lola, focus for fuck’s sake!

“Oh it’s a funny story, we should tell him. After all he needs some explanation as to why the gallery won’t let you use the bathroom anymore. You see it all happened in June of his year…”

“LOLA”, Stone, Jeff and mostly Mike shout at me in unison. 

“Yes”, I say in a small voice.

“What peace offering?” Stone asks. “And don’t change the subject again, or so help me God…” 

“Or you’re gonna strangle me with the scrunchie?” I quickly retort and I hear Eddie let out a slight chuckle on the couch. “Okay, I’ll tell you, but please don’t be mad at me. Be mad at Cornell.”

“What the hell did he do now?” Jeff says, crossing his arms and tilting his head sideways, causing the hat to move along. 

“Well, it’s more like what he’s gonna do… Tomorrow… That requires your presence…”

“Just bite the bullet”, Stone says.

“Well he just called me asking me about Eddie, because you know how Cornell is. He gossips more than a high school drama queen and screams in an even higher pitched voice. So I told him a bit about you”, I say and quickly turn to Eddie, who still has a look of confusion plastered across his face. He must think I’m a fucking idiot. “So because I barely know you, I just told him first impressions. Which kinda went sideways in the most horrible way, because for a solid minute he was convinced you were a drug addict, but I quickly cleared out you weren’t. But if you are, then that’s fine as well. Just whatever…” Eddie’s just laughing at this point, the whole gang is.

“So you came to tell us that you made Cornell think our new singer was a junkie?” Mike says, wiping his eyes.

“Well yes… And no… There’s more…”

“Did you convince him I’m a prostitute?” Eddie adds. Thank God you have a sense of humor!

“No. Don’t worry. No American Gigolo accusations were made”, I say with a quick smile. “I did however, happen to mention that you seemed a bit shy and probably needed to get out of your shell a bit. And that’s why Cornell is throwing a party tomorrow with probably half of Seattle’s music scene attending”, I rush out the words. All the color seems to leave Eddie’s face.

“Well, I’d have liked some more rehearsal time, but there’s no way to waver Cornell’s persistence”, Stone says, “Where and when?”

“Tomorrow, 9 pm, his place. I guess I’ll see you there”, I quickly say and run out of the door. Eddie is probably cursing my existence right now. 

***

Around midnight there’s a knock on my door. I jump out of bed to open it. Eddie’s standing on the other side. He awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry to interrupt, but I’m here to make use of your facilities if you don’t mind”, he mumbles. I see he’s holding a towel and a toothbrush in the other hand, as well as a T-shirt and what seems to be a pair of grey sweatpants. 

“Yeah sure, come in. The bathroom’s right there. Go to the toilet, take a shower, do whatever you want”, I say as I let him in and show the door. 

“Is it okay if I shower tomorrow morning?” he asks as he closes the door behind him. 

“Yeah sure, I’ll be at work, but I’ll leave my keys at the desk of the gallery. Trevor knows all about the situation. Do you want some tea? I was just about to make some.”

“I’d love some”, he gives me a quick smile and disappears into my bathroom. In the mean time I put on my kettle and take out two mugs. 

“Which tea do you want?” I ask him as he comes out of the bathroom about two minutes later. He’s now wearing the grey sweatpants and the other T-shirt, which is a Ramones T-shirt. His other clothes are bunched up in a ball in his hands. 

“Whatever you’re having. By the way, is it okay if I leave my toothbrush here?”

“Well I’m having green tea, so that’s what you’re getting then. And yeah sure, don’t worry.”

I put the teabags into the mugs and pour the hot water over them. “Sugar?” I ask and turn around. He shakes his head no as he takes a seat on the edge of my bed. I hand him his mug and sit down next to him, warming my hands on the heat of mine. “Feel free to make yourself some coffee tomorrow “, I say and break the silence, if only for a second. He mutters a thanks and takes a sip of his tea. We sit next to each other for a minute or two. Until the moment we both decide that the silence had been long enough, when we both say each others name. We let out a laugh. “Ladies first”, Eddie says a smile still on his face as he makes a gesture with his hand.

“I’m sorry about the whole Cornell thing. I know you probably wanted some more time on the down low before you were launched into meeting all these people”, I say as I keep staring at my mug. I can’t bring myself to look at him right now. “The thing is that Chris means well. He’s just a bit out there. And he loves to throw parties, and this is the best excuse he’s had in a while to throw one and I’m sorry I’ve already dragged you into an unwanted situation on your first day here.”

I feel two of his fingers under my chin as he softly guides my head sideways and up, so I’m not looking at my mug anymore, but at him.

“And I was just about to tell you that the guys explained that he means well and that you probably got dragged into it against your will as well”, he says with a soft smile. 

“So we’re good?” I ask in a small voice.

“We were never bad”, he says with the same soft smile which I return. His fingers slide from under my chin to tuck some hair behind my ear. “Good night, Lola. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with those words he stands up and walks towards the door.

“Good night, Eddie”, I say as he gives a small wave from the door frame before closing the door. 

[mookie--jam]

A reintroduction

Hi there!

Four years ago I wrote this Eddie Vedder fanfic here on Tumblr. At the time I used the URL mookiejam. It was called Empty Canvas and it told the story of Eddie and Lola.

At the time I was getting a lot of positive comments and enjoyed writing it so much. But I got into a bit of a writer's funk and the fic slowly died down. I deleted the fic and the blog some time ago now and I've really come to regret that decision. The main thing I regret was losing all the amazing asks and comments I got about the fic.

I have been kinda lost these past couple of years and have only been finding my footing again since the beginning of this year. It has motivated me to go back to the things that I really enjoyed doing. That I really loved doing. And my God, how I loved writing that fic...

So four years later, I return to Tumblr, with a somewhat similar URL, with the mission to write again.

Eddie and Lola's story (even though I had so much planned out for it) is not going to be one that I'm going to continue (I mean, never say never, but right now, no). Instead I wanna start a new fic. It's going to be a Chris Cornell/OC and Eddie Vedder/OC fic, intertwining the two story lines. That's all I'm going to say about it at the moment, because I don't have much more to say. I'm working on the first chapter right now, so it will go up in a couple of days I think.

But as for my previous fic... I spent the past couple of days rereading it and I decided that I'm going to post it again. So that will be all of the following posts and then I'll do a masterpost with all of the chapters. I'm only going to post the story up until a certain chapter, because that chapter could've been the end of the fic and the chapters that follow were all leading up to next major plotpoints I never got to because I got in my funk. I'll maybe post the other chapters at another time, but for now the shortened version it is.

So yeah, that's my little reintroduction. Here goes nothing, I guess...