#stone gossard - small part

[golden-gypsy]

Blue

Pearl Jam fanfic

Wrote this one-shot about a week or 2 ago when I was sick and just thought I'd share here too in case anyone wants to read. It's also on ao3 and Wattpad. Hope some people enjoy!♡

And of course, this is entirely a work of fiction. All real characters are just used for fictional purposes and nothing more. No disrespect or anything of that nature is meant towards anyone.

Summary: A young woman travels across a desolate landscape with her two companions, searching for something better. But, nothing is quite as it seems.

Warning: I don't think there's any warnings unless you count pg13-ish sexual content... or tobacco use.

Eddie Vedder x ofc

☆☆☆☆☆

The sweat trickled down the nape of her neck as she tiredly lifted one foot, then the other, repeating the process over and over again. They felt heavy, weighed down with fatigue and the unforgiving heat radiating off the sun scorching them from up above. The cloth she had fashioned into a headband was soaked through with sweat, rendering it useless as she wiped the damp from her brow. It burned as it dripped into her eyes, singeing the surface and blurring her vision more so than it already was. Squinting, she looked ahead, trying to sharpen the lines that had long since become muddled together. There wasn't much to see anyway, aside from a few bare trees and patches of dying grass scattered across the barren and hardened landscape.

“Are you okay, Emmy? Do you need to take a break or anything?”

She turned to the voice next to her. Other than his name being Eddie, she didn't know much about him, but she felt like she knew him somehow. From somewhere before here. From another life, perhaps. Because, she knew for a fact that she didn't belong here.

Eddie didn't belong here either.

“Yeah… I think I could sit down for a minute.”

He smiled at her, the slight indent of his dimples barely visible, and pointed to a weathered tree not far ahead. “Let's go there. We'll at least get a little bit of shade.”

She nodded, adjusting the bag she carried on her back and glanced back at the rusted wagon that Eddie was pulling behind him. Mike was asleep in there, face covered with a hat to protect his skin from the sun. They had stumbled across the young boy in a dilapidated house when they were seeking shelter one night. He was alone, said his parents had left to find food but never came back. She and Eddie had waited there with him for close to a week before they were able to convince him to come with them. Mike's parents weren't coming back; she doubted they were even still alive. They asked what few passers-by they crossed paths with if they had any news of his parents, but thus far it had proven to be a useless endeavor. That was another thing though.

Mike didn't belong here either.

They reached the tree, and while the shade was meager, her overheated skin still thanked her for the respite. She pulled the straps of her bag off her shoulders, letting it drop to the ground while she rolled her aching neck in circles. The headband was saturated with sweat, so she untied it, letting her hair fall to her shoulders as she shook it loose. Her curls were dingy and perpetually caked with dust. She couldn't remember a time when they weren't, but she liked to imagine that her dusky hair was once vibrant with color… once upon a time ago.

She had a feeling though…

That somewhere beyond the desolate backdrop, there was a utopia full of everything from her most magnificent dreams.

She knew she didn't belong here.

Eddie was crouched on the ground, unlatching his guitar case. She couldn't remember meeting Eddie; it was like he'd always been there. His guitar as well. How many times had she tried to convince him to get rid of it? It took up space; it wasn't a necessity, but it was all in vain. Eddie was one with that guitar. It was a part of him, and as she watched while his fingers ran lovingly down its neck, she wondered what that might feel like. To be loved by someone like Eddie, cherished even. She couldn't remember if she had ever been loved by anyone.

She didn't mind the guitar so much anymore.

How many times now had he lulled her to sleep with soft strumming and the earthy baritone of his voice? How many times had his blue blue blue eyes met hers while she tried to pretend she wasn't watching him play? How many times… how many times… how many times… she rested her head on his shoulder as he played something she had never heard before. Something new.

Something strangely familiar.

His hair was pulled back, but a few strands had come loose, the earthy stands tickling her forehead. Earthy like his voice. That was her favorite way to describe Eddie. Earthy. A steady, grounding presence who kept her knees from buckling due to the shaking ground beneath her feet.

She couldn't remember a time without Eddie.

The song he played was ethereal in a way. Otherworldly. Like it could guide her through a maze of darkened tunnels, and at the end would be the utopia she dreamed of. Rushing waters, a lush landscape, and she would reach up to sift her fingers through a passing cloud as she drifted down to meet them. For Eddie and Mike would be there too.

Because they didn't belong here.

None of them did.

“What's the name of that one?” she asked after the echo of the final chord faded away.

“Oceans.”

She shifted so that she was looking up at him, his jawline coated in a light stubble. “Hmm… do you think we'll ever see the ocean?”

He smiled down at her, and she wished she could breathe it in. “I have seen the ocean.”

“When?”

“A long time ago.” His face lowered to his guitar again, eyebrows pulled together. “Sometimes I wonder if it was real.”

“I don't think I'll ever see it.”

His eyes met hers again, and they were blue blue blue.

“Maybe you already have, and you just don't remember.”

She watched him, and she could envision him at the ocean. A lone figure on the beach, hair damp from the water instead of sweat and his feet buried in the sand. Maybe that's where he belonged. And she wondered… if maybe she was there with him, in that time she didn't remember. The time before all of this. There would be two figures instead of one. Maybe that's where they both belonged.

She hummed as the images filtered through her head. “What's the song about?”

His grin turned shy as he looked down at his guitar, plucking a few strings before blue became all she could see again. It filled her up and elevated her to the highest of places.

“You've got freckles.”

“What?”

“From the sun.” He wrinkled his nose. “Right here on your nose.” His thumb gently swiped down the side of hers.

“Oh.” Her fingers ran over her nose, down the side of her cheek. “I didn't realize.”

“It's cute.”

She didn't realize it at the time, but he never answered the question. He was good at that, evading, only offering bits and pieces at a time. Maybe that's because she had nothing to give in return. After all, she couldn't remember her life before Eddie. 

“I'm hungry.” 

Mike's voice startled her, and she jumped as she peered over her shoulder at him. He was sitting up in the wagon, long dark hair matted on one side of his head. Persuading him to sit still while she brushed it was never easy, but cutting it was not an option. Anytime the suggestion was made, he recoiled, tears welling up in his sad brown eyes. At some point, she'd have to trim it though. It was already well past his shoulders.

Eddie nudged her with his elbow, drawing her attention back to shades of blue. “By the time we finish eating, it'll be getting dark. Why don't we just stay here tonight?”

“Out in the open?”

“It's far-off from the road.”

“Do you think we'll be okay?”

“Don't worry.” He smirked, his dimples making another appearance. “I won't let anything happen to you.”

She rolled her eyes and stood up to grab the canned vegetable soup from her pack. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know.”

They were running low on food, but that was something to worry about tomorrow. Maybe they'd find another abandoned store or a community with some friendly people, but that was something to think about tomorrow. Tonight, they'd fill their bellies with the soup she cooked on the fire, and maybe Eddie would tell them stories of distant and not so distant places that would ignite her imagination into roaring flames.

The temperature always dropped once the sun set, from one extreme to another. She wanted nothing more than to keep the fire burning, but it would attract attention from those who could possibly be traveling along the far-off road or beyond. And if there was one thing she could never forget, it was that it was that the people who roamed at night often carried ill intentions.

So, the three of them sat wrapped in blankets around the dying campfire, counting down the long-forgotten minutes until sleep claimed them. Tomorrow, the worries would return, and they would set out on foot towards their next destination… whatever that may be. And it would go on and on and on, with no end in sight. Sometimes she wondered where exactly they were trying to get to.

“Will you play a song, Eddie?” Mike asked, his face peeking out from under his blanket.

“Um, yeah. What do you wanna hear?”

Emmy sat forward, wrapping her blanket tighter around herself. “Play the one you played earlier. Oceans.”

His eyes caught hers with a soft smile, and he reached for his guitar. An extension of himself, and she could see the sea of blue that encompassed him.

She didn't mind the guitar so much anymore.

He played the song, and it was just as lovely as before. Maybe more so, if such a thing were even possible. If he wasn't the ground beneath her, she'd worry that it would split open and swallow her whole. But, Eddie was the earth, and his eyes were the sky, and the ocean was his essence. She was waiting for the day when he'd spread his wings and fly.

But…

She didn't recall a time before Eddie. 

And she didn't know if time would remain after Eddie. 

The weight on her arm was nothing more than a sleeping Mike, lulled to sleep by the sound of earth's embrace. She understood; how many times had that happened to her now? Countless upon countless, dream after dream. A million different lifetimes that were somehow carried by the same background music.

She wondered what she'd dream of tonight.

She actually kind of liked the guitar now.

Eddie carried Mike to the wagon, lined with a blanket to add some cushion. She and Eddie would lay their blankets on the ground nearby, using their packs as makeshift pillows. They never slept at the same time though, alternating who kept watch while the other one would try to secure a few hours of sleep. The persistent fatigue was a never-ending battle.

“I'll take the first watch,” Eddie said after Mike was secure in the wagon.

“You barely slept at all last night. I'll take first watch.”

“I don't need a lot.”

“Just try then. I'll wake you up before too long.”

That was a lie. If he succeeded in falling asleep, she wouldn't wake him any sooner than need be. Maybe she wouldn't wake him at all. Eddie was constantly going without, letting her sleep that extra amount of time while his own body was further depleted of energy.

She would be fine, sitting and watching the stars, knowing that Eddie and Mike were safely sleeping beside her.

She didn't know how life would be without them.

Her back was against the weathered tree as she sat, listening to sounds of their breathing fill the night. Everything else was silent. She felt like maybe she remembered the chirping of crickets, maybe the hoot of an owl, but she couldn't recall where those thoughts came from. But, it seemed like, at one point in time, that the night wasn't engulfed in such silence.

Their breathing was a comfort though. It was a reminder that she wasn't alone. Even though she would never admit it, that was what scared her the most. Being alone in the world the way it was. She had people to take care of her though, and in turn, she would take care of them too.

“Emmy?”

Her head was tilted up toward the sky, and she turned to see Eddie lying on his side with his head propped on his arm. His hair was a wild tangle of curls around his face, and she wanted to reach out to smooth it away with her fingers, but she didn't dare do so.

“You're already awake?”

“You let me sleep too long.” His voice was raspy with sleep.

“Not long enough.”

He shook his head and patted the space next to him. “Come sit with me.”

Her eyes stayed focused on his smile as she sat beside him, legs folded underneath her.

“Not like that.” His arms reached towards her, hands pulling her down faster than her body would allow her to react. 

She lost her breath temporarily, as if she forgot how. His face was so close to her own that maybe her not breathing was a conscious choice, fear that any slight movement would cause the moment to disappear. They were facing each other, side by side under a dingy blanket, his hand resting lightly on her hip. If she moved or even breathed, she worried she would lose the warm weight of his hand. She wanted it to stay.

She wanted him to stay.

“That's better,” he said, his thumb moving up and down, up and down.

“What was wrong with how I was sitting?” she dared to ask.

“You looked uncomfortable.” He lifted his shoulder in an easy shrug.

The motion caused her hand to shift, and she noticed… only then… the placement on his chest, below his shoulder, almost where his heart dwelled. She could feel the beating underneath the palm of her hand, a steady pulse to show that they were living and breathing… and existing. Her fingers curled into the thin fabric of his shirt, a reflex, almost as if she wanted to soak in the life that thrummed beneath her fingertips. Draw it closer. Bask in the light that radiated off the earth and the sky and the ocean.

“We both can't fall asleep.” Her voice was a whisper, flitting away on tiny, shaking wings. 

“I'm not falling asleep. I just want to lie here with you for a while.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

She thought again of the song he played earlier, Oceans, and how he said he had seen the ocean before. All she could remember of her life were days spent walking on the lifeless world she found herself in. It didn't seem real that oceans could even exist, but she believed what Eddie told her was true. She knew he would never lie to her. That was one of the few things she could count on, and it was so rare to have anything to count on.

“Why are you so tense?” he asked, and she didn't have to look to know he was smiling.

“I'm not.”

“You should relax.”

“I am,” she countered.

“You're not. Am I making you nervous?”

She allowed her gaze to lift up to blue blue blue, his worry showing itself in the lines creasing his forehead. He had a way of transitioning so easily from playful to intense. It made her head spin at times, dizziness just by being in his presence.

Her fingers smoothed over the fabric of his shirt. “You could never make me nervous, Eddie.”

That wasn't quite the truth though. Eddie made her nervous all the time, simply with his close proximity. It was such a strange swirling of contrasting feelings… because he was a comfort too. He comforted her all the time. That very same mixture swelled up inside her with the touch of his fingers on her bare skin, just underneath the hem of her shirt. It was a hesitant touch, like maybe how he would dip his toes in the ocean water to test the temperature. She could see him doing that.

She could also see him running in at full speed.

“Can I ask you a question?” she breathed as his fingers ghosted higher.

“Of course.”

“Do you think we'll ever find what we're looking for?”

She watched as his eyelashes brushed against the tops of his cheeks, and she wanted to run her fingertips just underneath them. But, she didn't dare do so.

His fingers were higher still, moving along her ribcage, and her skin tingled everywhere he touched. For who can say they were touched by the earth and the sky and the ocean all at once? The feeling was new, yet familiar. He was familiar, and he was here with her, there with her… just as he'd always been.

They didn't belong here.

Those same eyelashes rose again, and time could have stopped for all she knew. Maybe it already did. Maybe these were the last moments she'd spend on this godforsaken land. That would be alright with her. She'd see Eddie in the next life and the one after.

“I think…” he said as the tip of one of his fingers brushed against the underside of her breast. “I think that we already have.”

Was he right? They had each other. The three of them. They were something like a family.

A family…

It was getting harder to think. Her mind was hazy, and all she could see was blue blue blue. It was everywhere. In the sky above her, in the earth beneath her, in the ocean that she may or may not have seen. It was in the touch of his warm fingers on her cool skin, imprinting her with currents of blue. It was in her thoughts, as all she could focus on was how she wanted him to move his fingers higher still.

And he did… 

And he did… 

And he did.

“I can still see the blue in your eyes, even in the dark.” His voice was a gentle wave, washing over the sea of blue. 

“Me too.”

His fingers moved in such a deliciously tortuous way, and nothing else existed in that moment aside from the two of them. She could see him through the fog of her vision as if he were the only thing that made sense. The only thing that was clear. The only thing that was true in their world full of deceit. His lips only barely brushed against hers for a fraction of a second, maybe less, but it was something she'd never experienced before. The frailty of the wind seemed to pick up speed. The tree behind them seemed to shake from its roots to the tips of its branches. The ground seemed to tremble as if their world would soon fall apart.

The air changed, and it was magnetic. It was dragging her away as she fought to stay closer.

Could Eddie feel it too?

It was only less than a second, but the signs were there.

“I had a bad dream.”

Mike.

They pulled away from each other simultaneously. She could see hints of fervor in that blue blue blue.

Maybe Eddie did feel it too.

“Come on,” she told Mike, lifting the blanket. 

Eddie patted his head, exhaling slowly. “I'm going to go keep watch.”

Her eyes unintentionally followed him as he took her former place at the base of the weathered tree. He leaned his head back against the trunk, gazing at the stars between the gaps in the branches, and she thought maybe Eddie could reach out and grab one if he felt so inclined. Something about him told her that it would be possible for him to.

Mike curled up next to her under the blanket, soon fast asleep. It wasn't long before she drifted off herself, thinking about Eddie and the stars in the sky.

She dreamed of the ocean that night, of what she thought it might be. Mike was sitting beside her on the sand as they built a castle. An elaborate castle, with turrets, walkways with parapets, and a moat surrounding the outside of the castle walls. It resembled what she thought a castle might look like, for she'd never seen a castle before, and it grew higher and higher, wider and wider. Mike's laughter danced across the surface of the sand, and she'd never seen him so happy. She wanted the sounds of his laughter to last forever.

A shadow was cast over their ever-growing castle. She knew not to be frightened though. It was a face she'd seen time and time again. His hair was damp from water instead of sweat, and his feet were buried in the sand. The light reflected off his eyes, and they were a bright, clear blue blue blue. They were almost crystal-like, and he stood in front of the sun so that the yellows and oranges surrounded him in a brilliant halo sent from the heavens above. He was beautiful. Painfully so. And she wanted to reach out and touch him, but she didn't dare do so.

This was where Eddie belonged.

He stood over her, tucking a water-soaked curl behind his ear. “I thought I might find you here.”

“You did?”

“Of course.” The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. “This is where you belong.”

And that's what she wanted.

She wanted to belong.

The next day was the same as any other. They woke up and ate some dried-out bread she had made some days before, taking small sips of water. Everything had to be taken in moderation; none of them knew when they would stumble across more supplies or even a source of water. They carried four jugs for water and only had two left that were full. She always found herself becoming anxious once they reached the two-jug mark. The water went too fast, and she wished they could find a way to carry more… not just water though, more of everything.

But, more than anything, she wished the land around them wasn't dying.

Eddie didn't mention anything about the night before… but then, she didn't either. A part of her couldn't help but wonder if it even happened. But, she could still feel the sensation of his touch along her skin, and she shivered more than once even in the unforgiving heat of the daylight. So… it had to be real. It couldn't have been just a prelude to her dream from last night.

Her dream… 

The utopia that she prayed for every night to magically appear just beyond the next hill.

Or maybe the next…

The last hill.

“I hope we find water today,” she said after they had walked a long while in silence.

Eddie turned to her, a hint of a smile playing along his lips. “We'll find some. Don't worry.”

Her eyes were drawn automatically to his mouth, the curve of his lips, the indent of his dimples. The brief moment in time when she felt them against her own was permanently ingrained in a corner of her mind. She'd keep it there and pull it to the forefront every so often to reminisce upon in case it were to never happen again; she didn't want to forget.

Eddie's grin grew wider, and she knew he must have noticed her staring, stealing fleeting glances as they walked and walked… and walked. His pace slowed, and he inched closer to her, holding out his hand without saying a word. She looked down at his fingers stretched out toward her, his grin softening as he took in her hesitancy. But, she didn't want to think too much about it and whatever implications it could hold. It may have meant nothing but merely a friendly gesture, and she didn't want to think of the burning that would leave inside.

She interlaced her fingers with his before her doubt could lead her away. Because she wanted to be closer to Eddie, and she smiled to herself with the knowledge that maybe she already was.

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze as they continued walking. “You should smile more often.”

And she realized that maybe she should.

They didn't take many breaks as they traveled, wanting to cover as much distance as they could before the sun set. The landscape hadn't changed at all throughout the last days and the nights and the yearning for something more to come along. As it did every day, her vision became blurry in the blistering heat, the outer edges turning in their slow and lazy vibrations. The sweat trickled down her back, clogged up her nose, and caused her clothes to attach to her skin. But, she still held Eddie's hand as they wandered forward, and he never tried to pull away as he walked in the center of their group. Her on one side and Mike on the other.

They were almost like her family.

Maybe they were her family, one that she created all on her own.

“Hey, what's that?” Mike asked, his tiny hand pointing up ahead.

She saw it then, a wooden house in the distance. Chances were it was abandoned, and they could only hope that it wasn't cleaned dry from previous passers-by. It was rare to find a solitary house that was still lived in. Sometimes they'd come across small communities, communal-type living where everyone played a role, and in return, protection was provided through larger numbers. She never questioned why they didn't stay in one of those communities. It would have seemed like the wise thing to do, but it never fit quite right. There was something else waiting for them out there, and it propelled their feet to keep moving.

But, to find a lone lived-in house? That was the biggest rarity of all. Simply because it was too dangerous, too easy for someone to come in and take over. Some of the things that people would do were too horrific to even think about.

As they neared the small wooden house though, the sight of something caused her to grip Eddie's hand tighter, caused him to let go of the wagon to shield Mike with his other arm.

Not something though.

Someone.

Two someones rocking on a swing on the front porch.

One of them had his long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, taking a slow draw of the cigarette sitting between two fingers. The other one looked taller, and he wore a straw hat decorated with a blue and purple striped band covering his long blonde hair.

She let go of Eddie's hand and took a few steps closer.

“Emmy, what are you doing?” he asked urgently.

She ignored Eddie and spoke to the two men instead. “I know you.”

“Yup,” the one with the cigarette replied.

What was his name?

Her feet carried her up the few rickety steps until she stood before them. She heard Eddie telling Mike to stay back before the creaking of the steps told her that Eddie was behind her. Really though, she didn't need to hear the steps to know; she could feel his presence from anywhere. 

He was her earth and her sky and her ocean all at the same time.

She pointed to the cigarette that ponytail held. “Can I have one?”

Stone. His name was Stone.

“I didn't know you smoke.” Eddie's puzzled voice behind her shook her eardrums, as only the earth could.

She didn't either, but it seemed like something she'd do. In that moment.

“There's a lot about me you don’t know.”

His eyes flickered over the features of her face before he answered. “I know.”

The one named Stone handed her a cigarette and held up the lighter to ignite the tip. She leaned forward to accept the open flame, but instead of hazel hues, she was met with blue blue blue. As far as her eyes could see, it was blue.

She inhaled the burning smoke down her throat, into her lungs, staring into Eddie's searching eyes as he passed the lighter back to Stone. He had a way of looking past her, through her, into the heart of her that she didn't know existed. It was in that way that he could both calm her and send a shock through every nerve in her body.

But, she knew now where he belonged, and it wasn't here. 

She hoped she could remember.

Eddie delicately removed the cigarette from her fingers, before she was even done with her exhale. As he brought it to his own lips, she was reminded of their almost kiss, how his mouth was now where hers once was. It was silly to think of something like that at that moment, but one can hardly help where the mind wanders at times. Even at this most critical juncture, when her thoughts should have been elsewhere, it was always him. Always.

“What is this place?” Eddie asked the two men on the swing, his eyes never straying from hers.

The one in the hat answered. “You don't wanna go in there.”

And his name was Jeff. 

She knew that now.

Eddie's head jerked to the side. “Why not?”

“Because no one who goes in there ever comes out,” Jeff said.

There was no explanation why. It was simply that. She knew it to be true though… somehow. Maybe for the same reason that she knew their names. Stone and Jeff. They were strangers, but still she could recognize their faces.

She stepped around Eddie, coming to stand in front of the door that led inside the house that was full of unknowns. It could be her demise, but she had to go open the door.

Eddie's hand found hers again. One last time. Or not. The possibilities were endless. “What are you doing?”

“I have to go in.”

“Why?”

She couldn't give him the answer he wanted, whatever that was. Her head shook as she gazed into those eyes that were so blue blue blue, the song he sang playing in her head as she saw his hair damp from water instead of sweat and his feet buried in the sand. It was the loveliest of visions, and she ached for it to come true.

She had to go in.

“Will you sing that song for me?” she asked him.

“What?”

“Oceans.”

He squinted at her as though she were crazy. Maybe she was. “You want me to sing it now?”

“Will you?” She took his hand in both of hers. “Please?”

And he did… 

And he did… 

And he did.

It was just as beautiful as the night before. If not more so. Because while his eyes were the sky, lifting her up so she could fly… his voice was the earth, destined to make sure her feet landed safely on the ground. And the song… the song was his essence as currents rolled above and beneath him, through him and around him.

That's where he belonged.

“I'm scared,” she said after he finished his song.

His hands clasped around the top of her shoulders, eyes intense in that particular way that only he could manage. “I won't let anything happen to you.”

She knew he'd never lie to her. That was one of the few things she could depend on in a world so full of falsity. And it convinced her that she needed to follow through as she reached behind her and turned the knob, the door swinging wide open. It was almost time, but there was still something left unshared. A final chapter to close the story, but it was just part one. There would be many chapters left to come as there was still the next life and the next… and the one after.

Her hands cupped both his cheeks as she held his face close to her own. Closer… closer… and closer still. She worried what would happen as the air began to shift around them. The signs were there, but she didn't want to live in the regret that she didn't know.

His breath fanned across her face as he drew her nearer, and she caught it as she pressed her lips to his in what was the ultimate defiance. They weren't supposed to be here, but they belonged somewhere… together. 

And just as Eddie was the earth and the sky and the ocean, she was the fire, burning the fraying ends away one strand at a time. The heat from the flames swelled up inside of her until it was too much to contain. It spread forth, nearly uncontrollable as his fingers sifted through her hair and her hands clung to the front of his shirt. They were the only two left on the planet, and it seemed inconsequential that the ground finally cracked and split, lava spewing forth and lapping at their feet as a cruel reminder of what was to come.

It should have been water.

But, the signs were all there.

The heat burned holes in everything it touched, but he held her close, and she didn't want to let him go. She didn't want to… because as his two lips continued to move against her own, she could feel it. Something new and something oh so wonderfully familiar.

Why did she have to let him go?

She could see him disintegrating away, or maybe it was her. And she wanted to hold on, for she suddenly feared she may never see him again. But, Eddie was the earth, and his eyes were the sky, and his essence was the ocean, and she knew somewhere deep within that he would never spread his wings and fly…  not without her. He would carry her with him wherever he chose to go.

He could go wherever he wanted to go, and yet he chose her.

The water would one day be enough to put out the fire.

And then, he was gone.

… 

…

…

She sat up straight in bed and wiped the cold sweat from her brow. The room she was in was small, too much so to hold many things aside from her bed. That was alright with her though; she didn't require much anyway. The tiny round window gave a view of the artificial neon lights and the smoky pollution that lived outside. She felt like she needed to be somewhere, but she couldn't remember where.

Her head swiveled to the side when she heard a knock at the door. 

“Emmy,” the voice called. “Are you ready?”

“I'm here,” she answered in a voice that she guessed must have belonged to her. “You can come in.”

The person outside her door could have been crazy, but she had a feeling…

“What are you doing still in bed?” he asked as he entered her room.

“Um…”

All she could see was blue blue blue. The neon created dancing light specks in his eyes.

“You need to get up. We're gonna get the shit beat out of us if we're late.”

She was confused, but what he said almost made sense; she felt the ache of bruises on her back. “Late for what?”

He stared at her as if she had two heads. Hell, maybe she did. “For work. Come on, we need to go.”

That's right, they had to go to work. That sounded right… but then, it wasn't.

No, it wasn't right at all.

She didn't belong here.

Eddie didn't belong here either.

[the-90s-music-colosseum]

Quarterfinals, Match 3

expand to see all propaganda received!

PJ Harvey:

"She's just so real, Polly Jean with her thinness and her red lips and her talent. The woman who dumped Nick Cave with a phone call!"

"no other musician in this entire tournament has an album where there are two different songs about having an enormous strap-on. and if 50ft Queenie and Man-Size weren't enough, she followed it up with ANOTHER on her next record. stream Long Snake Moan"

Stone Gossard:

"Have you seen that jawline?"

"Would you just look at the hair, the eyes, the jawline. He's cute and funny and a guitar god. Who else could write the riff in Once? Alive? Even Flow?"

"Search for Stone Gossard and auto fill suggests Stone Golem 5e. As somebody said he looks like sexy Squidward."

"Anthony had noticed Stone's interest over the last few months. Stone was cute, with his long hair and his nimble guitar playing fingers. Anthony harbored a few fantasies himself, mostly involving Stone's fingers being put to good use. He often imagined, when he was lying in bed fingering himself, that it was Stone's fingers instead. It would leave him panting and sweating just thinking about how good it would feel. Anthony was certain Stone didn't have a lot of experience, and there were some things he would definitely be honored to teach him given the chance. He was about 90% sure Stone was a virgin. That would explain why he was so shy. The water park was small enough that they had the whole place to themselves. As both bands enjoyed the slides and the fountains, Stone found himself working up the nerve to talk to Anthony. Not that he hadn't talked to him, but he hadn't said much more than a passing "hey, great show." Anthony, for his part, was formulating a plan. He would be the one to make the first move. Swimming over to Stone, he cleared his throat. "Hey." Stone blanched for a moment but gathered his composure back. "Hey yourself." "Um, so, listen. You wanna come back and hang out after we leave here? My room has a VCR and any movie you want." Stone considered for a moment. Anthony was asking him if he wanted to come back to his hotel room? Maybe there was a God. "Sure. I guess. I don't have anything else to do. Movies sound cool." And maybe more than a movie... Later on, after the two had shared a slide and splashed each other several times, Stone riding on Anthony's shoulders in a game of chicken against Eddie and Chad, the two made their way into Anthony's room. "Alright dude, I've got Pretty Woman, Back to the Future, Ferris Bueller..." Anthony ticked off the options. "Bueller is fine. You wanna order a pizza?" Anthony nodded as he slid the tape into the player and pushed the play button. Stone called the pizza place and ordered two large everything pizzas and two cokes. Now content that they had their evening's activities planned, Anthony turned to Stone. "Listen, I didn't just ask you here to watch a movie and get pizza, Stone. I need to be honest with you. You intrigue me. You're so intelligent and sexy. Can I kiss you?" Anthony asked him. Stone, heart pounding in his chest, could only nod his head. Anthony leaned in, kissed him full on the mouth as if to suck out Stone's breath. He slipped his tongue in Stone's mouth and massaged it gently with his. Stone let out a moan, who knew you could get hard with just a kiss? Ianlilith1316. "Can't Resist." Rockfic. 1 August 2020. Accessed 21 November 2023. "

"he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my-"

"Clearly hand-crafted by an incredibly horny Renaissance artist. Like Botticelli. And y’know what they say about paintings…nail ‘em against the wall ;)"

"He is the queen of grunge!!! How could you not vote for him?!??!"

"A vote for Stone is a vote for Squidward."

[loverockawaitsyou]

Random, but how I ended up in Seattle: I left a culty work exchange/commune in Los Angeles...

I will be posting in segments because it's a long, messy story that's full of nonsense that even I can't believe is real.

So, it's been about 1.5 years since I've moved to Seattle! How time flies!

I thought randomly of posting about some of the story behind my move, especially since the place I came from is close to being dissolved.

In July of last year, I left a deeply toxic, weird situation and restarted my life. While I love my life in Seattle, it hasn't been easy. I still struggle with my trauma and have only recently begun trusting people again and trying to be part of community. I've also been processing what I've been through and understanding how awful it really was. It was not normal.

Back in July 2020, I answered a sketchy ad on a sketchy site for a "live-in writer/editor." The ad promised a "free" place to stay in exchange (on a part-time schedule) for editing for one of the main bosses, a "world-renowned" sex therapist. I would be working for an old married couple. The wife was the sex therapist and her husband was her business partner, a self-proclaimed prince with no country from Italy who was also a controversial magazine publisher in the '70s. The couple had their heyday in the late '90s and early 2000s after appearing a few times on a few TV specials.

It seemed too good to be true, and it was. However, I was excited about the prospect of living in LA for "free" while pursuing my writing endeavors. At the time, I was a budding film critic, which is a notoriously low-paying career path, if it even pays at all, ha.

Over the past four years:

I moved into the community during COVID lockdown.

Went to a BDSM convention with my bosses and it was a miserable experience.

Participated in the filming of maybe three documentaries.

Upon my first visit to Seattle, lied to my bosses to get away because they almost never allowed time off except for emergencies/funerals (the Big Lie was so I could go see Stone Gossard's band Painted Shield... and see if I actually wanted to move to Seattle). At that point, I hadn't had an actual vacation since before COVID.

Close encounters with numerous stoners, junkies, and freaks.

On that note, numerous weird shroom trips.

Got involved with a guy who happened to be a wicked podcast bro and community Casanova. This was my first actual serious relationship, unfortunately.

Experienced a police raid while said guy was in my room after a hook-up. There was a small story in the local news. Pictures of my room were taken.

The main money I earned at the time, and what ultimately funded my exit was editing for an adult industry trade publication, a.k.a., I posted news articles mostly about p*rn and s*x toys.

Tried to speak out about the mistreatment I endured and was threatened with a trip to LA Superior Court.

But I went digging about and found a shit ton of other stuff including mail fraud, tax evasion, eviction records, and other s*xual crimes (really bad stuff), and accounts from former employees.

Now another current employee has been branded an extortionist for demanding her pay after months of being shafted and "squatting" until she is paid. I discovered her YouTube videos because I was following her (she hasn't updated in ages). However, she is my ex's most recent girlfriend, so things are weird. But we had a long ass conversation and I support her legal terrorism.

Meanwhile, life in Seattle is picking up!

[tryskomys]

Wet Sand

Stone Gossard x OC

Chapter 12 - Good Times, Bad Times

Summary: i love this place

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

notes: okay, hear me out. i was planning to release the next chapter, but when i was falling asleep yesterday night, something felt off. like some stuff needed to be fleshed out more. then i woke up and i was like ??? wtf was that bullshit, it makes no sense, i’ll post the 7k words i have ready to go. and then i started thinking about it more and more and realized that it might not be such a bad idea to squeeze a bit of this inbetween.

it’s a bit of a different format than usual, hope you don’t mind. this is by far the most unplanned impromptu shit i’ve ever written, so i hope it’s worth something. see you guys very very soon with a juggernaut of the next one. <3

tws: stone can’t catch a fucking break, man.

songs:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

January, 1985

“Uh, is this necessary, Stoney?”

A ginger girl was strolling through the street, frigid fog puffing out of her mouth. Holding her hand, a boy with a rooster haircut adjusted his scarf with a chuckle. His Capezio dance shoes were definitely not appropriate for the weather, no longer white as they splashed through the shallow puddles of snow.

“Nothing is necessary, Tara, but where’s the joy in that mindset?” he said, nudging her with his shoulder. She was just a few inches shorter than him, a well-tailored red coat sitting on her square shoulders. She clicked her tongue.

“Don’t get all smart-ass with me, I don’t dig it.”

Stone sighed, letting out an uncomfortable chuckle. He let her small hand go and put his arm around her instead.

“Sorry, sorry,” he whispered and pressed a warm kiss on her temple. “I just want you to get along with my friends, is that so bad?”

“Yes,” Tara firmly said, blinking a few times before looking at him. He softly frowned when he saw the sincerity in her strikingly blue eyes. The ones that brought him so much comfort, so hostile. “If your friends are a bunch of junkies cleaning dishes for a living.”

Okay, sweetheart, there’s a line.

“I mean - most of us are barely twenty, what do you want them to do?” he shrugged and allowed his frustration to peek through his words. “Stock-trade? Rocket science?”

“A little direction in life would be nice,” she shot back, not even slightly phased by Stone’s intonation. She tried to get rid of it, but Tara’s twangy redneck accent was adorable - most of the time. For some reason, there were days when he could almost see a different person in her place. Someone bigoted, small-minded.

He just couldn’t stop himself.

“Babe, a few months back you were buying indulgences every Sunday.”

“I told you not to be a smart-ass, didn’t I?” Tara grunted again, folding her arms. And Stone, again, chose to close his mouth shut. “Besides, I snapped out of it.”

Yeah, wonder why.

“Plus, to be totally honest, Andrew would benefit from buying an indulgence now and then,” she continued, ignoring when he inched away to look at her with a raised eyebrow. “He’s lucky that his girlfriend’s keeping him in check.”

Stone’s eyes rolled a perfect circle around the night sky, remembering how Andy came to The U-Men gig last night with a black eye.

January, 1989

“Wait, I don’t get it. Gotta go slower on me here,” Keeva raised her palm and waved it in front of Stone’s face. They were sitting at the soundboard of the recording studio, hunched over a white plastic board with seemingly incoherent scribbles. He sighed and rubbed his forehead.

“Liar, you get me very well,” he pointed a finger at her and then at the board, pointing between the different parts. “You just switch this bit and this bit - you strum here and pick here.”

He took a quick look at her and couldn’t help but grin at the way her eyebrows knitted when she bent closer and squinted.

It was precious.

“These charts of yours hurt my brain, Stoney,” she complained. “Might as well bang this fucking board against my head.”

Maybe she wasn’t teasing after all.

They’ve been in the studio for almost six hours by then - again. They started recording the EP right after Andy came back - a few days before his birthday, poor guy. Since then, they’ve been either working, rehearsing or trying to write.

Greg was sitting in the corner, sleeping - he was working his ass off more than anyone behind that kit, always keeping everything tight and steady as the rest of them struggled to find the right path through the songs. Andy was next to him on the sofa, listing through a fashion magazine.

“You strum from here to here,” Stone explained again, dragging his finger across the board - he softly cursed when his finger smudged a bit of the writing. “Slow down on the four - stop on the fifth - and pick on the next first.”

Keeva shook her head and he noticed that she was biting her cheek like she always did before cracking a joke.

“Still not getting it. Maybe you could draw me another chart? I love your sense of colour schemes.”

There we go.

“Dear God,” Stone whipped his head away and hopped up, rubbing his face to hide the grin. “Fuck you, seriously. Jesus.”

Her laughter wormed into his ears and right as he turned around and focused on her scrunched freckled nose, Jeff and Bruce arrived.

“Coffee time!” Bruce sing-songed, carrying a carton holder with four coffees stuck inside in one hand and holding his own cup in the other. Greg jumped when he slammed the drink in front of him and then grabbed it as if it was the last drop of water on Earth. Then Bruce turned to the singer. “Oh, Andy, I saw Xana turn the corner when we were coming up. I think she’s headed here. She looked a bit pissed."

Andy’s eyes darted up from the magazine and his face fell a bit. Stone frowned and slapped his thighs, leaving a red handprint right where the holes in his jeans were.

The last thing his exhausted brain needed after an eight-hour shift at the bakery and all this time shut in a room with these five was her.

“Jesus Christ, what is she doing here again? I’m -” he started, but Keeva shushed him. Her face showed that she was clearly irritated that he was talking like that in front of Andy. Stone was so tired that he didn’t even notice that his friend cringed a bit, slapping the magazine shut.

“Chill out. I bet she’s just bringing dinner,” she mumbled. “Don't act like the sandwiches from yesterday weren't delicious.”

On cue, the tall woman walked in and the air in the room almost visibly shifted. Stone tried to erase the frown on his face as they all greeted her in suspicious unison. She scanned the room for Andy, who almost seemed to be hiding on the sofa.

He looks guilty.

Fuck. Fuck, he is guilty.

“Hey, guys,” Xana said, her voice shaky and barely audible.

Jesus. Bless her heart.

Then she looked at her boyfriend and twitched her head towards the door.

“Andy, a word.”

Andy got up with a sigh and reluctantly walked up to her, rolling his eyes when she took him by the arm and dragged him into the other corner.

The five of them exchanged a look and, again in unison, all took a sip of their coffee. Greg rested his head against the wall again and acted like he was falling asleep, Bruce and Jeff replaced Andy on the sofa and started reviewing the coffee in a clear attempt to block the quarrel out.

Stone hesitated for a second, but when Keeva locked eyes with him, he could tell she was begging him to come back closer to her.

“I still don’t get the chart,” she silently said after clearing her throat, which made him slightly relax on his way back to the board.

Yeah, I’ll take that.

Stone sat down and tried to talk Keeva through it, even though she wasn’t looking at the writing at all - she was staring at him as if she was trying to hold onto every expression of his to get her mind off of what was happening in the corner.

He could hear himself speak, but the two voices kept on disturbing his already half-assed train of thought. Catching whispered words here and there.

“Don’t fucking play…this, Andy...was a joint butt, I could smell it…not one…of them. I can’t… fucking believe...”

“Weed…”

“Off limits...they said…perfect sense! And that...in your notebook? That’s not happening...writing...no way.”

Only when Andy’s arms flung forward and he pushed Xana, Stone's eyes snapped to the pair.

He thought that he went blind and deaf for a second - everything happened so fast.

Just a few slaps echoed through the room, then two female voices meshing together and only then he finally noticed that Keeva looked away from his face.

He didn’t know how she moved there, but Xana was standing right in front of her with an expression that he’d never seen on his friend’s girl before. Pure apologetic regret. Whatever she said to Keeva when he deliberately wasn’t paying attention must’ve been over the line.

And Keeva’s line was set pretty damn low.

Keeva’s voice was so cold that it must’ve dropped the temperature in the room.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen now, Xana. You’ll leave the room and I’ll act like you didn’t come here today. We’ll finish the job that we’re getting paid for so we can put food on our table and then you and your boyfriend can go home and have a civil conversation. Deal?”

Xana’s shoulders slumped and suddenly, she seemed so…small. Stone almost felt bad as she left the room with a meek nod. The blank stare that Keeva gave him when he looked back at her made the hair on the back of his neck stand up in terror.

“Stoney? Can you explain that thing to me again?”

February, 1985

“I think it’s time we found a different lunch place,” Tara sighed and that made Stone giggle. He thought that she was joking - she used to be so giddy about coming here. This was his favourite spot to get cheap pizza. The best junk food in Seattle was right here - under her nose - and she wanted to ‘find a different place’?

“What, you don't like it? Since when?” he said, swinging their intertwined hands back and forth as they neared the building. She dry-heaved.

“The pizza is always lukewarm and the cheese is too damn waxy.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“And?”

“And I don't like the vibe,” she shrugged with a loud sigh. “I'd rather go to the one on 16th Ave.”

He felt his heart burn and suddenly, he wasn’t so hungry anymore.

Bet you would.

“I think Lloyd only has Friday shifts,” he muttered with a bitter scoff. She whipped her head around to look at him with scorn.

“What the heck is that supposed to mean?”

He looked at her, too, but she didn’t move a muscle. Not even after he huffed and leaned closer to scold her up close.

“Saw you two last week behind The Ditto. Didn't look like you were asking for the family recipe.”

She shook her head and quickly looked away - although her answer didn’t indicate any signs of atonement.

“Maybe if you took me somewhere else than The Ditto for once, I wouldn’t have stumbled into him.”

Stone shook his head. Not at her, at himself. At the way he still didn’t let go of her hand. At the way his fingers felt tingly and warm when they touched hers. At the way her fiery locks tickled his neck as they flowed through the crisp wind.

Pathetic.

“Like you stumbled into Jerry at The Ramp? You should learn how to walk.”

He only got another scoff out of her as he opened the door for her.

“We go to The Ramp too often, too. This whole place feels like a rat cage sometimes, too damn small.”

 

February, 1989

“Fucking hell, I love this place!” Keeva exclaimed and skipped next to Stone in high hops as they turned the corner to the diner.

“The cheese is a bit waxy, not gonna lie,” he muttered under his breath, sticking his freezing fingers to the pockets of his jeans. She hummed, closing her eyes.

“That’s the best thing about it,” she explained and rubbed her palms together. “Never fails to make my tummy upset. Being consistent, Stoney, that’s the essence of life. Rinse, repeat, same pizza, same people, same streets.”

His heart skipped a beat when she looked up at him - the pure excitement in her gaze was irresistible.

You’re not gonna break me.

He just snorted and shook his head.

As soon as they sat down in their usual cubicle, Mike was already rushing out of the kitchen with a big, extra cheesy pizza and two plates. Keeva gasped, a sound that made Stone’s heart stop again. Her eyes twinkled as if they were…painted. Hand-drawn.

“Welcome to Julia’s, lady and gentleman. At your service,” Mike theatrically bowed and put the food on the table, wiping his hands on his tomato-stained apron. Stone didn’t feel like talking today, so he just smiled - that thankfully didn’t hold *her* back from enjoying this simple moment of joy.

“Oh, Mikey, you’re my guardian angel. Looks delicious,” she waved her hand to help some of the scorching artificial smell reach her nostrils quicker.

“No, it doesn’t,” Mike snorted and leaned one hand on the table and the other on Stone’s shoulder. He really didn’t feel like talking today. “I put some extra love into it on this Lord’s day, though. To fuel the inspiration.”

“Aw. You’re the best pizza boy in the whole wide world,” Keeva said and batted her eyelashes. Mike shrugged.

“If you can hold a secret, I just shredded the cheese.”

“And you did great, babes. Looks like you’re the best cheese shredder, too,” she assured him and giggled when he reached out to ruffle her already messy hair.

“You desperate flirt. Okay, bon appetit, I gotta dip before Doug sacks me,” Mike grinned and jogged away, turning around halfway to give them a wave before disappearing behind the staff door again. “And move your asses with the record, I can’t wait!”

Stone noticed the worried frown that was scrunching Keeva’s features through the next few minutes of silence, but honestly - he couldn’t be bothered.

He did not feel like talking today.

“By the way, we gotta buy that thing that removes dye from clothes,” she nonchalantly said after gulping down her second slice. “You know the thing, right? Your black underwear got mixed up with my clothes at the laundromat and dyed my white Alice t-shirt. Now it’s all grey. Wanted to wear it to The Ditto next week and I obviously can’t show up like that.”

Stone had to fight his own blood from consuming his entire face, and boy was it tough.

Maybe I’d like this. Talking about laundry and dye removers and waxy pizza. Maybe we could go on like this. Stay boring until we won’t have enough teeth left to chew the crusts.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt that bad.

“Jerry tried to hit on me at the last gig, can you believe that?”

Keeva’s voice sliced through his thoughts and made him snap from the pizza to her face. She wasn’t mocking him. She seemed genuinely baffled.

“I can,” Stone scoffed, barely able to hold his venomous tone back. “He's hot.”

She shrugged.

“Can’t argue with that,” she plainly agreed and took a bite. She knew Stone was always bothered when she spoke with her mouth full, but now it seemed deliberate. Trying to get a reaction out of him. “I asked him what he uses on his hair to make it so shiny. He said that he’s a fan of coconut oil because it has many uses and that he would gladly show me all of them.”

“Classic,” he deadpanned without any emotion in his voice. Keeva shrugged and swallowed.

“I told him I'd rather chug the whole mason jar.”

She never failed to make him crack. He didn’t even register his own sincere laughter - what he did notice was the way her features lit up at the sound of it. Like a Pavlov’s reflex.

 

March, 1985

“I'm going back to Utah.”

Her voice seemed so foreign these days. Stone hated that it never failed to give him butterflies, even when it felt like it was coming from a stranger.

“W-what?” he stuttered out, lifting his head from the tree bark that was digging into the back of his neck.

The Mount Si trail was beautiful this time of year, even if the view of the city was murky thanks to the ever-present fog.

Or maybe it was just the malady of his memory, remembering it this way. Like a watercolour painting dissolving under the soggy paintbrush of time.

“Next week. Coming back home.”

The absurdity of the moment ran through his body like a very real punch and made his diaphragm clench - it must’ve looked like a simple chuckle to her.

“Wow,” he whistled, breaking into a wide grin. He knew his brain was just trying to cope by making him act the exact opposite than he should have. “And I thought that you had no sense of humour.”

Her annoyed sigh pinched his ears again, and her eyes put a crown on the pain. They matched the cloudy skies above them flawlessly.

“I’m serious, Stoney, and you’ve just proven my point.”

Against his better judgment, he pushed himself away from the tree and closer to her. The leaves used to bore wild cherries in the summer.

“Hey, I’m just teasing,” he softly said and reached out to cup her cold cheek. “What’s wrong?”

“I just...I feel like I’m past this place, okay? Like God is calling me elsewhere.”

So many thoughts swirled through his head that he didn’t know which one to choose first.

“What do you mean, God? What do you mean elsewhere? I mean, shouldn’t we discuss this first? I don’t think I can just drop everything and move without thinking it ov-”

“I know. I’m not counting on you doing that.”

The sheer finality of her sentence hurt almost more than the implication.

He wanted to be brave. He needed to be brave. But the looming self-preservation inside him didn’t allow him to be.

“Wh- I - so you’ll just leave me here?”

“Yeah,” she said and her once flaming hair suddenly seemed as dull and colourless as her tone. “Come on, Stoney. This thing stopped working a long time ago. You know that I’ve been seeing other people and so have you.”

Those were the words that made him drop his hand and inch away from her.

“Bullshit! I’d never d-”

“Whatever,” she interrupted him with a strict frown. “Have you ever stopped to think why I’ve been sleeping with other guys?”

Because I’ve always been waiting for you like a fucking dog? Patiently wagging my tail until you come back to me while your lips are still swollen from sucking someone else’s cock?

“No.”

“You’re always being a snarky smart-ass, I’m tired of it. Always too cool for school, this whole wannabe punky ethos you have, I don’t jive with it. I need something grounded.”

Stone’s eyebrows knitted and he reached out again, only to have her slip from underneath his fingertips.

“Hey, I can work on that. We can w-”

“I just don't love you anymore, okay?”

He’d heard it echo in his brain long before she said it out loud, heard it infinitely ricochet around his skull like a bullet. But actually seeing the sentence leave her plush lips startled him in ways he could’ve never prepared himself for.

“I’m sorry, Stoney. I can’t help it. I like you, but I don’t love you. And I’m sure you feel the same.”

I don’t.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

March, 1989

“My feet are shedding. Shed-ding. Can you even bleed out from blisters?” her whiny voice snapped him back to the present. “Flash me that certificate of yours, pretty boy.”

Only when he joined her under the cherry tree and let the dehydrated bark stab his skin, her words finally stopped sounding as if he’d been sticking his head into a bucket of water.

“Ah. Worth it, though. Fucking worth it,” Keeva breathlessly chuckled and rested her head on his shoulder. She tucked her knees under her chin, oblivious to the fact that it was Stone’s first time taking a deep breath in hours.

“Why didn’t we come here earlier?” she added. “You’ve been promising me for a year.”

“Forgot.”

Wishful thinking.

“Well, whip out the chart, sieve-brain,” she snorted and lifted her head again. “There are songs to be finished. Oh, I think that the beginning part of Stargazer would actually sound really sweet on an acoustic. You’ve been working on that fingerpicking too hard to not show off a bit.”

He didn’t feel like talking.

“It’s a bit cold, still,” was all he managed to push through his teeth.

“No bad weather, just bad denim jacket,” she tugged on his clothes, unphased, and then started rummaging through her backpack. “Seriously, did your mom stop dressing you just yesterday?”

“Excuse me, what?” he choked out - a lone spark of light chipped off of her soul and latched itself onto him, slowly filling him to the brim.

Shuffling away from her, Stone took a moment to throw a proper judgmental look at her outfit and continued.

“You’re telling me this while wearing five layers, two scarves and double socks, Baby? You look like you’ve been sniffing glue.”

When Keeva’s sudden joyful laughter rang through the mountain walls around them, Stone began to wonder if Spring came early this year - for a split second, the leaves in the tiny orchard started growing petals right in front of his eyes.

She clutched on her stomach, struggling to breathe through the fit of giggles. And when she slowly lowered her body into the damp grass to lay on her back and calm down, she started laughing even harder as her muscles relaxed.

Maybe he didn’t feel so cold after all.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

[dissident-vedder]

- moral of the story ( 𝐄. 𝐕.)

your marriage to eddie vedder after a bad divorce.

A/N - layout by @adoresobs​!  the high school ballerina part was inspired by teenage ballerina Kayla Mak, and this was inspired by Ashe’s song, Moral of the Story.

𝐌 𝐀 𝐒 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 𝐋 𝐈 𝐒 𝐓

when you were eighteen, you married your high school sweetheart, believing him to be the one, the one to make sure you were at your best, the one to give you pure, unadulterated happiness, the one who was there when you chased your dreams of being a principal ballerina at the pacific northwest ballet. you had been dancing there for a big part of your life after you moved from georgia to seattle, your parents wanting you to go one of the top ballet schools in the u.s. to make sure you had a step forward. heading into high school, you were disciplined, eating only the cleanest foods, spending most of your time between the dance studio (which you attended six days out of the week), school, and, during the christmas season, dancing as one of the roles in the nutcracker (you liked playing a little swan). 

you had met mark in your sophomore year and when you had to go to the ballet studio, he would ride the bus with you there, the both of you helping each other with your homework. on the day you didn’t go to the studio, he would spend some time with you, and would go home afterwards, knowing that, if it was the weekend, you’d like to be with your family for half a day or more. 

once the two of you graduated and married shortly after (it was a very small ceremony), you realized that it was all a fantasy. when the two of you were painting your new house just like your grandparents did, the two of you were arguing, him cutting into your throat with malicious words, while you tried to defend yourself with facts. almost every single day he would throw horrible assumptions at you, such as the man that you hugged the other day was someone you were cheating on him with, but it was your father (he had been at the wedding). mark forced you to quit ballet (you didn’t, you continued going when he was at work), and would almost force you to eat more, to make sure you gained weight and to “make sure no other man would look at you”. 

you refused and on the day of your first anniversary, you finalized the divorce papers, remembering how your lawyer looked at you and asked, “where’d you find this guy?”

“young people fall in love with the wrong people sometimes,” you answered her, small tears falling down your cheeks.

“some mistakes get made, that’s alright, that’s okay, you can think that you’re in love when you’re really just in pain,” she hugged you tightly, rubbing your scalp lightly with the pads of her fingers as you cried into her shoulder. 

“in the end, it’s better for me,” you sniffled, “that’s the moral of the story.” 

standing in the first stoop of your former home, bags packed in your car, boxes of furniture and decor in the van, fear in your heart as you thought of what to tell your mother, tears stinging your eyes as you began to believe that you were never going to find the love your parent found in each other. 

you had found a new home in the edge of a forest, close to the city yet away from people, no longer wanting to stay in the house that had so many fights caused within its walls. too many skeletons in the closet for you to handle. 

1990: 

you were finally 24 years old, and 5 years had passed since you had divorced. you haven’t gotten into a relationship until recently, fearful of what would happen if you did. a man named eddie recently moved to seattle, the two of you being introduced to each other by stone gossard, and you began seeing each other a few months prior. he was extremely sweet, caring for your well-being, supporting your position as principal ballerina at pnb, taking you on dates whenever he could, and showing you that you were loved. 

1994:

you and eddie married in rome, italy and honeymooned in santorini, greece, the beautiful red and black sand beaches becoming a second home for your mind and body as eddie surfed on the brilliant blue waters, which was something you laughed about. “the only thing that can outmatch the color of that water are your eyes,” you told him a ridiculous compliment, laughing when he scruched up his nose. since you’ve met, he has released 3 albums and a few singles, rising to stardom as soon as ten was released. people loved eddie for his enthusiasm and energy during shows, climbing the speakers and rafters, keeping everyone on their toes as they wondered where he would climb next.

2004:

you squeezed eddie’s hand as you pushed, feeling the infamous “ring of fire” your mother told you about when the head crowned, face scrunching up as unbelievable pain coursed through your body. all for a little baby. one final push was all it took before you felt the body exit your body, a baby’s high-pitched cries filling your ears as you saw the blood-covered human get carried off in a blanket to get everything done. tears of happiness escaped your eyes, looking up to eddie, who was looking at you with the happiest smile on his face, and the two of you kissed, happy that olivia was finally here. 

2008:

another child, another birth. olivia was finally four years old, eddie had recently turned 43, and you were only 41. it was late september, so olivia was currently bundled in thick blankets outside of the hospital room you were pushing in, the pain still a new concept to you. “you’ll never get used to the pain of childbirth,” eddie’s mother told you, causing you to silently freak out as you placed a hand on your stomach. you were scared, wondering what the baby would be like. it was a risky pregnancy, you were already in your 40s, and a lot of women suffered miscarriages and stillborns at this age. however, harper just happened to make it through, piercing cries filling the air as you breathed a sigh of relief. her little lungs carried so much air, so much life. 

2020:

stuck in quarantine, you wished that you were able to go to a shop with your daughters, or on a date with eddie. you watched harper do flips on the trampoline in your backyard, olivia inside the house getting guitar lessons from her dad. with the release of their new album, gigaton, olivia has been bugging eddie to teach her the notes to take the long way, the 55 year old finally giving in. the sun was out, a rarity in washington state, allowing harper and yourself to wear your swimsuits, sitting on the grass as harper called out to you, “this is a front walkover.” 

this was a rarity in itself, having everyone home without anyone having to go to school or to work (olivia) during the day. you smiled at your youngest daughter as you cheered her on.

TAGLIST:

@stateofloveandvedder​ @state-of-love-and-lust​ @honeysympathy​ @grossgold​ @sea-sxns​ @d-arknecessities

[aboysbestfriendishismum]

Chapter 53 - Captain Kirk, the talk and the ex talk

In the previous chapter: Eddie and Angie talk every day on the phone. The day of the concert in Portland is near, Meg will go with Grace and Laura, whereas Angie won't be there. Cornell's going back home at dawn when he finds Eddie sitting outside Angie's door. He tells him he's hitched a ride and travelled during the night because he wanted to go back home. Angie and Eddie finally see each other again after the kiss.

**

“What the fuck have I just seen?” Meg's right here next to me, laughing and clapping her hands, together with the small group who rallied around our friends in the parking lot.

“Need bleach to disinfect your corneas?” Stone stoops to talk to her, keeping his arm around my shoulders “Want me to go inside and ask for some?”

“They're admirable though” I remark.

“For their courage and total lack of shame or restraint? I couldn't agree more” he said seriously.

“No. I mean, that too. But I meant their artistic choice”

“Artistic?” Meg eyes me suspiciously, then Jeff and Laura drag her away and they all walk up to the champs who've just given the performance.

“Well, yeah, they could have played it safe without taking any chances and go for an easy WMCA or In the navy. Yet they chose a niche song”

“Well, I wouldn't call it niche...”

“You gotta admit it's not the typical Village People party tune” I shrug and turn around and start walking back to the club.

“Now that I think about that...” Stone follows and reaches out to take me by the hand.

“They even had to make up a dance routine”

“Hehe that's true, you're right” he smiles and gives a little squeeze at my hand and I just snap.

“WHAT?”

“Huh?”

“What the fuck are you talking about Stone?” I plant myself pretty close to the entrance.

“Did you take any drugs that are kicking in now?” Stone studies my face with a perplexed look and a badly hidden smile.

“Come here!” I change direction and drag him back into the parking lot but towards the back, actually towards the band's van.

“Did Village People give you subliminal advice on how to spend the night? Well, the rest of it...” he asks as I gesture for him to open the door of the van.

“I see you've still got some sense of humour for me too!”

“Gracie, what's wrong?” he opens the van and flails his arms, while I walk around to get on the passenger seat.

“Get on and I'll tell you”

“So?” we're sitting and we're locked in and that fucking grin is still there.

“What's happening to you, Stone?”

“To me? I should ask you this question...”

“You haven't even made fun of me once since I got here!”

“What?”

“Being tender and sweet is ok... although I have to admit that sometimes while we were talking on the phone I wanted to yell 'Leave this body!' because I don't know you anymore”

“I can't... I don't understand”

“But at least you were joking with me, I mean, it was always you, though covered in a thick layer of … candy? Tonight you just keep on... fucking agreeing with me!”

“Should I not?”

“NO!”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I'm sure, I want the good old... well, the old Stone, not his pale copy. If this is the way you are when you have a girlfriend, you know, I'm not sure I want to take on that role”

“Oh. Well, that's curious” Stone looks surprised and he's not even trying to hide that grin anymore.

“I mean, I want that role, I like you, I really do... It's just, I can't understand what's wrong with you lately”

“That's curious because all my exes preferred the pale copy”

“Your exes?”

“Actually, they required it”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that girls usually get with me, then regularly try to change me... 'Did you really have to make that joke?'... 'Don't embarrass me!'... 'You said you'd call at 7. It's 7:01, what the fuck are you doing?'... 'Do you need to spend the whole night of your concert with your bandmates?'... 'Do you really have to play tonight?'... 'How could you make fun of my dress? My record? My mother? My dog?'... And each and every time I was like, you know, where have you been? Who have you been dating? Don't you know me? I thought you wanted to be with me and this is literally who I am”

“I don't wanna change you, you're fine to me the way you are”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, you can call me 15 minutes later, sleep with your guitar or... with Jeff! And you can easily insult my whole wardrobe”

“Even 20 minutes later?”

“Even one hour!”

“Really?”

“Sure! This is bullshit, stupid little things, nothing to focus on”

“Ok in that case... it looks like you passed the test” Stone holds his fingers up to his chin as if he's pondering something, then gives me a peck on the nose and gets out of the vehicle just like that. He walks around the van and opens the door for me.

“What?”

“And with flying colors!”

“What test?”

“Stone Gossard's Stress Test”

“And what the hell is it?”

“A kind of stress you couldn't stand for... mmm... not even five hours” Stone looks at his watch to calculate the time spent together tonight and I get out shocked from the van.

“Are you telling me... you did it on purpose?”

“Sure”

“And the cheesy phone calls?”

“Those too.” he's about to lock the van and my puzzled face tells him he needs to elaborate more “Oh that was to figure out if you're a clingy psycho. And you're not. You're a normal young woman with normal insecurities and doubts about the guy she's just started dating”

“So, what if I had given in and gone along with you?”

“I'd have dumped you on the spot” he finally locks the van and circles my shoulders with his arm once again, kissing me quickly on the lips.

“On the spot?”

“Well, no, of course I'd have waited for us to at least meet in person so we could talk” we walk up to the back entrance of the club and I can't help burst into laughter.

“Hahaha shut up! You'd have broken up with me on the phone with no remorse. Actually, you'd have probably asked Jeff to do the job for you!”

“God, you really do know me” he stops in his tracks, grabs me by my hips and pulls me in a tight hug, amused.

“Yes. And I still want to be with you, isn't it crazy?”

“Well, when I called you normal I was clearly putting it mildly”

“What are we then? I mean, are we a couple, are we dating or what?”

“What do you want us to be?” he asks as he rests his forehead against mine.

“Well, I want to be with you... but I want to take it slow”

“Uh what a coincidence! That's exactly what I want as well” he suddenly pulls away and takes me by the hand as we resume walking.

“Anyway, considering we already had the talk, I'd say we're well on the way”

“The talk?”

“The ex talk”

“Uh, that!”

“Well, you didn't give me the details but...”

“We can easily skip those” he shakes his head.

“And then there's the part about my ex boyfriends that still remains untold”

“Can't we skip that too?”

“You're not jealous, are you Gossard?”

“Nuh, it's just pathetic cases make me sad”

“Ha-ha”

“You said you liked my sense of humour, now enjoy it” he jokes as we walk hand in hand and he delicately rubs the back of my hand with his thumb.

“Can I reconsider it quickly?”

“No. You've even just called me by my surname to act as the funny alternative girlfriend, you can't go back”

“Any other remark before we get in?” I question when we're at the door.

“Yes, one thing. How many M&m's did you kill to make that skirt?”

“HA! I KNEW YOU HATED IT”

“You can't imagine the struggle to keep my mouth shut the whole time. And I did it for you, you should appreciate that”

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

“Hey, did you see Mike?” Eddie runs into me in the parking lot and asks the wrong person.

“Mmm no, the last time I saw him he was mimicking tango moves with Cantrell along that railing, while the other Village People were doing the wave”

“That was... intense”

“I don't know now. Oh you know what? You should try and find the coordinates of the spot where I'm standing right now and calculate the one that's exactly the antipodes on the earth's surface 'cause that's were he probably is. Most likely” I spew my bile on poor Eddie, who remains confused.

“Ok”

“That or... he's, you know, inside” I add as I calm down.

“Ok, thank you Meg.” Eddie smiles and is about to leave, then waits “Mike's got nothing against you, he just wants to be by himself for a while so he doesn't fuck anything up”

“Yeah, well, I can't wait for him forever” I flail my arms then fold them back against my chest, buttoning up my jacket. It's cold tonight, fuck.

“Don't worry, he knows” Vedder nods at me and gets in the club, leaving me standing here like a lemon.

Sure he knows, he knows pretty well. Maybe that's what he hopes for. He wants me to get tired of waiting for him. I just need to find someone else and he wouldn't be in trouble anymore, right?

“Hey? Hey girl!” I hear someone yelling behind my back so I turn around to see if by any chance they're talking to me.

Two guys, apparently intoxicated by alcohol or something else. They come close smiling and elbowing each other. Yeah, unfortunately they're talking to me.

“Yes?”

“Hi! Excuse me, my friend and I are right in the middle of... of a...” the blond guy can't find the words, his friend with the dreadlocks comes to the rescue.

“A dilemma”

“Yes! A dilemma. You're the only one who can help us”

“You can't decide who's the biggest jerk between the two?”

“Hahahaha that's a good one!”

“I told you she seemed funny”

“We can't decide what's the worst cover version between Hotel California by Al B. Sure and Under my thumb by Sam Kinison. Do you know them?”

What. The. Fuck.

“The first one, for sure”

“Yeeeeeeeeeeeah! See? What did I tell you, I won!” blondie growls and beats his chest like a gorilla.

“Fuck you always win, that's not fair”

“And what did you win?” I ask 'cause I wanna see where this nonsense is going.

“The chance to hit on you, sweetie!”

“Don't you have a friend?” his buddy asks, still disappointed.

“Fine. Well you had your chance. It didn't work. Sorry. Bye!” I make wide gestures with my arms and hands and quickly step off.

“Aw come on! Why? Where are you going?”

“Guys, you need to change your technique because I swear this isn't just the worst pass ever done at me, it's the worst I've ever witnessed in general”

Sorry, Mike, given the available men around, I'm afraid the solution to your problems is still way too far.

I get back into the club right when Vedder's exiting, together with two friends of Mike's. That's why he was looking for him.

“Good night Meg!”

“Night”

Is he leaving? Where? Huh. The hall seems even bigger now that the show is over and there's a little less people on the floor, dancing to the dj's setlist.

“Baby here I am, I'm the man on the scene!” a Mike, but not the one I was looking for, sings aloud into my ears, dancing and skipping behind my back.

“Hey Starr, I've been told from a very believable source you're not a bad dancer at all”

“That's right! Your roommate was very satisfied with the performance”

“Yeah, despite your quick hand!” I retort as I jokingly squeeze his asscheek.

“Shhhhhh don't say it too loud! If Jerry hears us, he will get all upset and want to beat me up once again” Mike stops in the middle of the hall, looking around and gesturing me to shut up.

“Did he beat you up?”

“Nuh, he's all talk and no action, he never does it in the end. But there's a first time for everything”

While Starr describes his fears, I inspect the crowd and at some point I spot a Stevie Ray Vaughan style hat I know too well. Two girls are talking to that hat.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA you're killing me!” I give him a small nudge but he doesn't move.

“Ok. It didn't seem such a brilliant joke to me though”

“Hahaha no it wasn't but just laugh all the same, ok? Laugh! Would you please fucking laugh?!” I grab him on his shoulders and literally shake him.

“Are you high?”

“Just pretend we're having very much fun, ok? HAHAHA!” I throw my arms around his neck and maybe this dumbass finally understands something.

“Aaaaaah I see! Mikey's looking this way, isn't he?” he understood but doesn't uderstand that if he turns around he's gonna ruin the whole thing.

“Don't look!” I grab his curly head and straighten it forcefully up so he looks back at me.

“Hey, relax... I just wanted to check if he was with any girls”

“I can tell you: yes, he is. Happy now?”

“Well, yes, because if there's girls around, you get mad” he smirks and he almost gets me more mad than the girls themselves.

“Oh thank you! And why would that make you happy exactly?” I grasp his neck again but less gently.

“Because the more upset you are, the more you'll be seeking for revenge. And I can take advantage of the situation!” he wiggles his eyebrows and tries to cop a feel.

“You're such an asshole” I shake my head and let go of him, leaving him alone in the middle of the dance floor.

“Meg, where are you going?” Mike, still the wrong one, follows me as I make my way through the dancing people and catches up with me at the bar “Come on, I was just kidding! You know me, we're friends, aren't we?”

“Ok”

“But if you want to do what that chick with the bandana is doing to Mike, I'm in. Anything to help a friend in need!”

I frown and turn around and see the girl has just pulled up her shirt right in front of Mike, who just stands there in the middle of a group of howling men without batting an eye. First her friend laughs at the scene, then imitates her and pulls her top up as well.

“Fuck you, Mike” I hiss after I down my whiskey shot.

“Who? Me or him?”

“Both”

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

Monday. Weird day choice for a concert, especially for the last gig of a tour. Actually, as far as Eddie told me, they were initially supposed to play last Friday. Then there were problems and it all slipped to today, so the guys had a long free weekend. This kind of gift is even better when it's unexpected. Just like the cancelled class this morning. I spend the morning running errands and doing all the chores I needed to do, I had a slow lunch, I studied for a couple of hours not to feel guilty, I even baked a cake, which would actually make me feel partially guilty, and now I'm free. Free to make a small change in my plans with Eddie. Luckily I manage to park just outside his condo, I grab the cake, enter the building thanks to a guy that's perfectly dressed for a bike ride who holds the door for me and I run up the stairs.

What if I disturb him?

You don't.

He must be resting after his shift.

His shift ended hours ago, he's got nothing to do.

Maybe I'm about to show up right in the middle of the writing of a new song and he'll lose inspiration because of me.

Well, if he really tells you he's busy-

He'd never tell me, Eddie's too sweet.

If you actually notice by yourself that he's busy, you can just give him the cake and leave, after all you'll see him at the show tonight.

That's not the same.

You can see him whenever the fuck you want, Angie.

What if he's not at home?

If he's not, nobody will open the door.

What if Jeff's there?

Then Jeff will have the whole cake, just stop with the drama.

What if he's with another girl?

Please! Who?! Eddie's so antisocial you're the only girl he found.

I get to the aparment and through the closed door I can hear the unmistakable voice of Ian MacKaye. This is Eddie, for sure. I ring the doorbell and the music is turned down a little. The door opens almost immediately, in a tiny crack.

“Hey!” Eddie greets me, quickly closes the door to unlock the chain, then opens it again.

“Hi E-” he pulls me towards me and without realising it, I find myself inside his apartment, in the middle of a hug and a kiss.

“What are you doing here? What time is it?” Eddie glances at his wrist but there's no watch on it, then clumsily walks backwards, dragging me within.

“It's almost half past four, Eddie”

“Wait, were we supposed to meet now? Sorry, my mind's kinda confused” hi little lines on Eddie's forehead! I missed you.

“Hehe no, we said tonight at the show, don't you remember?” this morning I saw him at the mini market and went there for a quick hello before going to class. He almost got us caught by Hannigan as we were kissing beside the ice cream department.

“Right! Weren't you busy today?”

“Yeah, but once I got to the university I found out two professors weren't there, so I got some free time” I put the cake on the small table at the entrance to keep it safe.

“Great!” he exclaims maybe with a little too much energy as he hugs me once again.

“And I thought... well, I could drop by and... surprise you”

“Even greater!” I takes me by the arms and loops them around his neck before kissing me.

“Didn't I disturb you?”

“Pfffft no”

“Are you sure?”

“I was just chilling a little”

“Chilling? With Fugazi?”

“You know, I'm weird.” Eddie rubs his nose against mine and his dimples are way beyond the alert level “You look so beautiful”

“Did you smoke pot?”

“Can't you just... like... take a compliment?”

“Sure I can. But that doesn't change the fact you've been smoking” my nostrils don't lie, neither does his face.

“Yes. But pot's got nothing to do with the fact you're beautiful”

“Ok. Do you have any left?”

“Sure, my princess!”

I realized I like hanging out with Eddie. Wow, what a huge discovery! I've always liked it, obviously. It's just, well, after... what happened, I was afraid things would change, that we wouldn't be us anymore, that nothing would ever be the same. Yet it's exactly the same. We're friends, we laugh and joke together, we talk about anything, we go out together, everything is the same. Since he came back, we met every day. On Friday afternoon we played basketball at the court, on Saturday he came to the diner at closing time, yesterday we did another tour of Pike Place. I mean, it's all like it used to be. Kisses, cuddling and make out sessions are a plus, lovely interludes that take nothing away from the rest. Everything's going just right and I'm sure it'll stay like that. As long as none of us talks about the whole matter, of course. Meg can't believe we didn't say anything to each other, whereas I think that's why this thing works. I mean, sure I'd  like to make sense of all this, to figure out what we are: we are together, we're not together, we're a couple, we're friends... I don't have much experience about relationships: with Sean, well, we both set up what we would do together, whereas Martin asked me with a card (Do you wanna be my girlfriend? Cross Yes or No); then came Drake and Dave that were, in two totally different ways, actual non-relationships, nobody said anything, nobody knows if they even started, we just know they ended by themselves; and finally, Jerry, well, no need to explain that. I mean, I went from school boyfriends to adult relationships, there's nothing in between and I have no idea how you know as an adult wether you're in a relationship or not. Do you have a talk specifically about that? Or one of the pair simply starts addressing the other spontaneously calling him or her my boyfriend or my girlfriend and you just start considering yourselves a couple by implication from then on? Nobody says shit and if you haven't told each other to fuck off after N months then you're a couple? Do you automatically become a couple after a minimum time-span of exclusive sex? How do I figure out if I'm with Eddie or not? Is it so necessary to figure it out? Uhm probably yes, if you don't want to get shafted like with Jerry Cantrell. I have the right to know what's happening and decide if I’m ok with it or not. The truth is, I'm so very ok with this situation, with Eddie, the way it is, that I'm scared stiff I'll do or say the wrong thing and fuck it all up. Eddie's the best thing that's happened to me in a long time. I loved Jerry, and I somehow still do, I can't deny it, 'cause I care for him and everything. Anyway I never had the same connection, the delicious complicity, even the intimacy I have with Eddie, although we haven't done anything actually intimate... What if he wants to do it? SHIT, WHAT IF HE WANTS TO DO IT NOW?! Lounging on a small couch with Eddie listening to post-punk, eating chocolate cake and smoking substances that remove inhibitions: not exactly the best recipe for abstinence.

“Hahaha this was a particularly good idea” Eddie grabs two more squares of cake, he eats one immediately and places the other on his leg, his thigh that keeps rubbing against mine.

“And I had no idea about your induced appetite”

“It's a great idea regardless of the munchies. Take another bit” he suggests chewing.

“No, I'm fine, I ate a quarter alone!”

“So what? I ate half of it, there's another quarter left” Eddie gets all serious as he shows the different fractions of cake on the plate with the knife.

“That's for Jeff”

“But... Jeff's not here now” he whispers seductively, as if he was suggesting to cheat on a boyfriend with him and thank god I don't have a boyfriend because Eddie can be so convincing. Even now that his eyes are two thin slits and he can't stay more than ten seconds without laughing. Actually, when he laughs it's even worse.

“But if he still finds some when he comes home and eats it, that will make me happy”

“So selfless” he moves a lock of my hair away from my face and it falls back in the same place right away, he gives me a small kiss, then another, then one more, and he keeps smiling so wide that I'm afraid he'll gouge my eyes out with those cheekbones.

“Err Eddie?”

“Yes?”

“The cake” I point at the chocolatey square that's about to crumbe between our legs.

“Oops!” he lets go of me and takes the piece of cake, eating it in one bite.

This couch is a mess, there are crumbles everywhere.

Luckily it's not your apartment and it's none of your business. Focus on something else!

The B side of 13 songs has come to an end and this time I decide to go and turn off the stereo. I need a diversion.

“I... gotta go to the bathroom!”

“Ok”

My interior monologue goes on, both on the toilet and at the sink, as I wash my hands.

Why am I like this?

Because you're stupid.

Why do I freeze? I'm comfortable with Eddie... so why do I have these totally awkward moments?

Because it's a new thing, you still have to get used to it.

Get used to what? To making out with a hot guy? That should be the easiest most natural thing in the world! I should be in the living room with him now, not here, fixating on my face in the mirror.

The joint you smoked may be responsible for the fixation, the rest is just insecurity. Try and act normal, relax and don't think too much.

Easier said than done...

I get out of the bathroom and walk back into the living room. Eddie's not here. He must have gone away. And he probably left a message with FIX YOUR FUCKING PROBLEMS written on it.

He can't leave, you dork, you're at his place.

Oh. Right.

“Hey, here you are! I was looking for something to drink. There's a bottle of red wine I really wanna open with you but not today. With the show and all the rest, I'd better not, what do you think?” Eddie comes out from the kitchen with a carton of ACE juice and two glasses.

“Hehe yeah, maybe you'll better not” I answer as I take my glass from his hands.

“This is Jeff's stuff, healthy and vitamin filled” Eddie fills my glass then does the same with his, puts the carton on the coffee table then seats on the armchair.

On the armchair. Sure.

Well done, Angie. Congratulations. You sent him the message to stay away. I drink a sip of juice and place the glass on the table, Eddie makes gestures and mumbles something I can't decipher because he does it as he's drinking.

“What? Do you need something?”

“Mmmhh”

“The cigarettes?” I ask pointing at the pack.

“The remote. Let's watch some tv, do you want to?” he finally explains himself. Eddie wanting to watch tv? I guess my message was too strong.

“What's up with the tv? Do you wanna take a nap?” why don't I just keep my fucking mouth shut? He gets close and you push him away, he finds something to do to pass the time and you have to pick on him. Nothing is ever good for you.

“Hehe no, no napping, just relaxing a little” he replies stretching out a little to put his empty glass on the edge of the coffee table. I move it towards the center so it doesn't fall down, then I get the remote for Eddie.

“Here”

“Thanks” I'm about to go and sit down on the couch but Eddie grabs me first by the arm, then by the hips, and in a couple of seconds I find myself sitting on his lap .

“Eddie! Come on, what are you doing?”

“Where did you think you were going?”

“On the couch, I can't sit here... like this...” I pry up the backrest of the armchair to turn around and look at him as I speak.

“No? And why?” he reaches between my knees and pulls up one of my legs so it lies across his.

“Because I can't be... all sprawled out on you like this” he does the same with the other leg and now I am indeed in his arms.

“Who said that?”

“I'm heavy, Eddie, I'll crush you...” we'll end up falling asleep and I'll suffocate him.

“I can't fell any burden at all” liar.

“It's the drug, it numbed you”

“Haha Angie, it takes much more than a couple of joints to numb me, trust me” Eddie squeezes my hip and with the other hand is still caressing my knees over the jeans.

“But... you're uncomfortable”

“I've never been so comfortable in my whole life” he states and rests, well, actually drops his head against my chest.

“If you say so...”

“Are you comfortable?” he asks looking up. Hi again, Eddie's frown!

“Yes...”

“Great,” he kisses me in a way that I almost fall off this fucking armchair, then gives me the remote “turn it on then”

“Ok, what do you want to see?”

“You choose”

I start zapping through the channels and hope to find something that can give us a prompt of conversation and thank god I find it amost immediately.

“Uh! Star Trek reruns! Do you like it?”

“I used to watch it as a child. I'd say I was more into super heroes and sitcoms rather than science fiction, but I do remember it”

“So you haven't seen the new series? The Next Generation?”

“Uhm no”

“No big deal, I prefer this old one too, but the new one is not bad at all, you know?”

“Hehe ok”

“If you don't like it we can watch something else”

“No Angie, it's good” he steals the remote, turns up the volume a little and sticks it somewhere between the armrest and the pillow.

“OH MY GOD, IT'S ARENA!”

“That is...?” Eddie gives me a perplexed look for my sudden excitement.

“It's a memorable episode! Captain Kirk against the Gorn, have you seen it?”

“Err it's not like I remember it all, as I told you”

“Oh if you had seen this episode, you'd remember, trust me” I adjust myself better on Eddie's knees.

“Is it good?”

“It's one of the best episodes ever!” I let go of the backrest and clasp my hands behind his neck.

“Cool!”

“And it has the worst fight scene in the history of American television”

“What?”

“Maybe even world television but I don't have the instruments to venture a guess”

“How can it be one of the best episodes if it's got a scene that literally sucks?”

“It's something I can't explain, you wouldn't understand”

“You mean that it's so bad that it's good?”

“Yes, but no. Not really. All I can say is that Star Trek is made of this too”

The episode has already started, although not long ago, so I do a quick summary for Eddie. The attack on Cestus 3, the space battle between Enterprise and the enemy ship, Metrons getting upset because fuckers invaded their sectors.

“Isn't it basicallly some kind of fight trial?” Eddie asks as he's still holding me firmly. When his limbs start tingling and losing feeling and I crash down on the floor, I'll say I TOLD YOU!

“Exactly! A trial by combat. As in, you came here fucking around in our space, now we're gonna take your two captains and put you in this desert planet so you can take this shit elsewhere and sort it out between you two, until one of you dies”

“Who lives, wins”

“Yeah and the one who dies condemns his crew to death too”

Eddie watches the episode in silence, either he's very focused or he's stoned. Now it's me resting my head against his shoulder. All in all, it's just Eddie, why should I freak out? I don't know if I owe it to Captain Kirk or if it's because of the forced contact on the armchair but I feel much more relaxed now.

“I think I smoked too much, I see it all in slow motion” he points out after a while and try and I hardly stifle a laugh.

“It's not you, that's the scene”

“What do you mean?”

“This is the terrible fight I told you about, it's at normal speed”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Hahahaha no”

“What the fuck was that two-handed punch?”

“That's Captain Kirk signature move! He uses it often”

“Yes but it's totally useless”

“Details”

“And why is that alien so slow?”

“He's big, he can't be too sleek”

“He couldn't even kick him! Here, now he's crushing him”

“But Kirk reacts and tries to strangle him”

“He'll never make it”

“Oh he will, with the powerful move of the-”

“Head slap?! Hahahaha”

“See? He stunned him”

“Run away!”

“He can't, he has to fight him to save himself and the Enterprise”

“What the fuck is he doing now?”

“He throws a rock at him”

“That guy's big, the rock won't do him anything”

“Metrons told them they'd find all the resources on the planet”

“If he kills the alien with that pebble, I swear I'll scream”

“It must weigh a lot. Look, look at the elegance of the throw gesture”

“There it is hahaha! As I said, he didn't even move”

“He managed to make him even more upset”

“Where is he going? Jesus Christ yes! Now that is a rock”

“He wants to respond by throwing an asteroid at him basically”

“Such a poor figure for the Captain of Enterprise”

“Shut up, heretic! Kirk is not up for debate”

“Come on, you can't deny he sucks at fighting right now”

“But he's good at dodging asteroids”

“If they go on like this, this fight could last for ages”

“Hehe luckily, it ends at some point”

“Are you sure they're not still fighting right now?”

“No no, I swear”

“Thank god”

And the end of the fight finally comes. Kirk builds some kind of mortar with bamboo, diamonds and colorful dust he found on the planet. He fires it and hits the Gorn.

“So MacGyver didn't invent anything new?” Eddie says and I giggle.

“Hehe no, he didn't”

“Won't he kill him?”

“No, he won't. That's the best part of the episode. Rhetoric, I know, but I'm a sucker for the Federation's moral culture”

We watch the episode till the end: Kirk spares the Gorn's life because he realizes he was just trying to defend his corner of space. The Metron shows up and he's touched by Captain Kirk's pity, a trait he wasn't expecting to find in humans, and saves both him and the Gorn.

“A positive moral in the end”

“Yeah, there's still hope for humanity”

“Anyway... that fight really sucked, I can't” Eddie lets go of my legs and covers his face with his hand as he laughs.

“I can't deny it. But you gotta understand it was 1968”

“Yeah, sorry, you're right. That's how people fought lizard aliens at the time”

“Hehe yeah, now we know much more about lizard aliens but at that time that's how it was done”

“We should have recorded it so we could watch it again in slow motion. I didn't really understand what was happening during the fight, they were too fast”

“Hahaha”

“How can they broadcast such a violent thing at this time of the day? Don't they think about children?”

“You're funnier when you watch Star Trek, I'll take a mental note”

“It's got nothing to do with Star Trek”

“Oh right, it's pot. I'll take a note anyway”

“It's not that either”

“What is it then?”

“It's you”

“Oh...”

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

“Did you hear that too?” Angie abruptly breaks our kiss and looks around.

“What?”

“That noise”

“What noise?”

“I don't know, some kind of thud”

“I didn't hear that... I don't know, I must have left a window open” I shrug and kiss her again.

“When I went to the bathroom I didn't see any open window from the hallway” she insists.

“No noise then” I nip her nose gently and try again with the kissing.

“But I'm sure I heard something” it seems there's nothing to do.

I thought she was calm now. She was so tense... I can't see why though. I'm trying everything to make her comfortable.

“Maybe it came from outside?” I cup the side of her face, lean in and...

“I don't know, it seemed more like it came from round here” she explains generically pointing at the entrance and the hallway.

“As I said, maybe someone has just got home and shut the door”

“Yes... it can be... you're right” she finally smiles at me and I can pick up where we left off.

At least until someone rings the door bell. Unlike the previous imaginary sound, we both can hear this clearly.

“Someone's at the door” Angie slips away from my arms and stands up in the middle of the room.

“Yeah, let's see who the fuck it is.” I reluctantly get up from the armchair and walk to the door “Jeff?”

“Sorry man, I forgot the keys” my roommate enters and throws his backpack on the floor.

“It's ok. But what are you doing here? Didn't you have to work until six?”

“Yeah. It's almost seven o'clock, Ed” Jeff laughs as he takes off his jacket and hangs it on the rack.

“WHAT? Already?”

“I see you couldn't stand Violet but if I were you, I'd wear the watch she bought you as a present, you'd need it” he pats me on the back a couple of times, folds his arms and looks at me. A huge grin on his face.

“I'll buy another one...” I nod and walk to go back to the living room, then turn around expecting to see him right behind me, following me. No. He's still there, standing near the door, laughing. Why the fuck is he laughing?

“I'm gonna go and take a quick shower, we're supposed to do soundcheck in half an hour” he finally breaks from his position and makes his way through the hallway.

“HI JEFF!” Angie calls him from the living room and Ament turns tail.

“Angie? Hi! I didn't see you!” I join them and see Angie, holding her bag with her coat on. I can't say I was expecting to see her like she was five minutes ago, stretched out on the armchair with her shirt unbuttoned, but...

“Eh you were walking fast...”

“What are you doing here? Wait, don't tell me you're not coming to the show!” Jeff pretends to get mad and Angie doesn't buy it.

“Don't get all worked up, I'm coming tonight! I just popped by to bring you something” she barely points at the plate and the bass player basically throws himself on the cake.

“Chocolate! Great. Well done, Angie, especially since you brought it to us and not to the other losers”

“I wanted to. But bringing a cake to the Off Ramp was kind of impractical”

“Extremely impractical, totally agree” he adds with his mouth full of cake.

“Weren't you going to take a shower? Aren't we late?” I ask as I walk up to them.

“Oh well, whatever, the acoustics always suck at the Off Ramp”

“Ok, so, gotta go now” Angie dribbles Jeff, and me.

“Already?” I complain.

“Yeah, I can see you're busy”

“Why don't you just wait and come with us to the club?” Jeffrey has the best idea of the century.

“Sure! A little patience and we can go all together” I chime in.

“Thank you but... I can't, I've got a couple things to do that I can't postpone hehe. See you tonight!” Angie dashes my hopes and heads for the door.

“Bye Angie, thank you for the cake” Jeff shrugs and sits down holding the plate in his hand, cutting another slice. I'm surprised he's not splitting the cake with his bare hands. Maybe it's because she's still here. Not for long though.

“Bye guys!” she stops and looks back at us one last time, waving her hand, then disappears. I can barely make a move to catch up with her and I already hear the door open and close.

What the hell...?

“Did I interrupt something?” I'm still trying to process what's just happened when Jeff asks me.

“No”

“Are you sure? It looks like there was a nice party going on in here...” my friend points at my shirt randomly abandoned on the coffee table, the stubs in the ashtray, the glasses.

“Sure. Ehm... I'll be back in a minute” I take a few steps back.

“Where are you going?”

“I gotta... I forgot I had something to tell her”

“Really? And what is that?” Jeff crosses his legs on the couch and keeps on cackling at me.

“Work stuff... I'll be right back” I clear out and dash down the stairs.

I didn't tell anything to Jeff but I have the feeling he sensed something. Well, it's not like he didn't know before, he's not stupid. Anyway, I'd tell him. But obviously Angie doesn't want anyone to know. How can I tell? Well, let me think... maybe the fact that on Friday, after we had spent a great afternoon together, when we met with the whole gang at the Scottish Pub to celebrate the end of the tour, she barely talked to me and sat as far from me as she could? And what about Saturday night, when I went to Roxy's to see her and we were holding hands and she dropped mine in a second as soon as Meg appeared? I see it's been only a few days but I can't see why we should hide.

“Angie!” I draw up to her between the second and first floor and she looks particularly confused when she sees me.

“Eddie? What's up?”

“What do you mean, what's up? What was that?” I stop a flight of stairs higher.

“What was what?” she asks and it looks like she really doesn't understand.

“That” I reply, mechanically waving my hand at her and going down a couple of steps.

“A universal greeting gesture?”

“And didn't you forget anything?” I roll my eyes and keep walking down.

“I don't know... what did I forget?”

“I don't know... something like this?” I get right next to her, cup her face with both hands and kiss her.

“Oh. You meant this” she awkwardly answers.

“Yes, this.” I add with another quick kiss “Why did you leave like that?”

“Well, Jeff was there...”

“So what?”

“He could see us”

“I repeat: so what?” Angie and I haven't talked about it yet. Actually every time I try and talk about us, she changes the topic of the conversation and I didn't want to push until now. After all, it's only been a few days. But maybe now it's time to finally do the talking.

“Eddie...”

“What's wrong if he sees us? He'll find out sooner or later”

“Yes but... I don't know” Angie drops her gaze down to the floor.

“You don't want anyone to know, I get that. I just can't see why”

“Just for now”

“I didn't ask you how long, I asked you why”

“Because... you know how it is with the guys... they never mind their own business” she starts bantering and gesticulating.

“Angie”

“You're in my friends' band and if something happene-”

“Angie, I'll tell you a secret: they really don't give a fuck about us. Sure, they can tell a couple of jokes, make fun of us, gossip a little. Then every one goes back to their own lives and their own problems”

“Hehe I know!”

“So?”

“I just want to wait before telling them, that's all”

“We don't need to actually tell them, we don't have to make big announcements, we can just... stop hiding. And our friends will sniff that out”

“Can't we just wait for a while before having them... sniff?”

“You're ashamed. Of me”

“What?! Shut up, what the fuck are you talking about?!”

“What's the matter then? Don't you trust me?”

“It's not that, Eddie”

“'Cause if you don't, just tell me what I have to do so I can be trusted”

“You don't have to do anything”

“I am not Jerry” if she doesn't want to talk about the elephant in the room, then it's up to me.

“God, I know!”

“Are you sure?”

“Sure I know or I wouldn't be here with you”

“I'm not... shit, I don't want to hide 'case I've got nothing to hide, ok? What am I? The new non-boyfriend? The secret boyfriend of the week?”

“What... what did you just say?” Angie finally looks up at me, only she does it like she had just seen a ghost.

“That I don't want to hide and-”

“No, after that” Angie leans against the stair railing, holding on to it with both hands.

“That I've got nothing to hide?”

“Right after that”

“Secret boyfriend?”

“Yes. That one. What... what is it supposed to mean?” she asks wide-eyed.

“Well that's something I don't like. Being your boyfriend and nobody knows. I can't-”

“You... are you my boyfriend?”

“Well yes... am I... not?” I thought I was. Maybe I got it wrong.

“YEAH! I mean, I don't know, we never talked about it...” she looks down again and I get closer to her.

“I never talked about that because you didn't seem at ease, every time I tried and say something...”

“I know, it's true... it's my fault”

“Fault? What fault? There's no fault. It's... this new thing started between us and it's a beautiful thing and we're spending time together. And it's great but you're kind of embarrassed because it's fresh, there's nothing strange, it's perfectly understandable”

“So... what are we... you and I?” she asks and I can feel it's really hard for her to be so upfront.

“What do you want us to be?”

“I asked... uhm, I asked you first” she retorts with a little smile. Her well known irresistible smile.

“We're together”

“Ok”

“And what do you think?”

“I think we're together too”

“Great” I take her hands off the railing and kiss them one after the other.

“So... you haven't been seeing other people?” she asks and my eyes roll so hard I can see my brain.

“No, Angie, I haven't been seeing anyone else...” then suddenly, a suspect as I drop her hands “Wait, are you seeing someone else?”

“What? No!”

“Tell me if you have” what if all this secrecy and embarrassment are only because she's been dating another guy? After all, we never talked about it, so we never decided how exclusive this relationship was. Who the fuck is going out with her? I swear I'm gonna beat the shit out of-”

“Who do you think I'm going out with?”

“I don't know, you tell me”

“Nobody, Eddie. Only you” this time she takes my hand, delicately holds it caressing the back first, then the fingers and the palm, carefully studying it, without looking at me.

“Ok”

“So... we're a couple”

“Yep... let's go tell Jeff the good news!”

“Eddie, please”

“Just kidding”

“Let's keep this between us, for a few days... ok?”

“Ok, princess”

[90simaginesandfanfics]

Hiii!! Could you do a one shot with stone gossard, where the reader tells him shes pregnant? And theyre kinda worried because it is unplanned but it turns out to be fine and then it’s a cute ending? Thank you lol

Okay, you could do this. It wasn’t a big deal. Not a bigdeal at all. You were just casually going to tell your boyfriend that he’dknocked you up. Fuck.

You had found out a week ago, when your friend Jaime hadmade a comment about how hormonal you were, and the fact that you had beenfeeling sick all the time. That paired with the fact that your period was late,and you and Jaime had rushed out to get pregnancy testing kits as quickly aspossible. Jaime was the one who had held your hand as you looked at it, and shewas the one to confirm that the two lines signalled you had something growinginside of you.

You had been dating Stone for just under a year, and thingswere going great. Him and Pearl Jam were out on the road a lot, but it justmeant that you both cherished the time you did have together. Stone wassupposed to be coming back this afternoon from some tour dates in SouthAmerica, but your anxiety was going through the roof the more the minutes onthe clock ticked down. You weren’t even living together yet, the relationshipwas still new. How the hell was having a baby going to plan out? You were soworried about his reaction, that you had barely eaten anything all day, and haddecided to just tell him as soon as he came home, rather than drag it out byhaving a nice evening first.

Before long, it was seven in the evening, and after pacingup the living room for hours, you finally heard the door to your apartmentopen. There stood Stone, a tired smile on his face as he slammed the door shutand rushed over to you, wrapped him arms around your body and pulling you intoa passionate kiss without even saying a word. His lips completely withdrew allyour worries and you found yourself sinking into his body as his lips glidedagainst yours. When the both of you began to lose your breath, he pulled away.

“God, I’ve missed you so fucking much.” He said, and then pulledyou close again, angling his mouth against yours to continue the kiss. Beforehe could, you slightly pushed at his shoulders, stopping him from his actionsand causing him to look at you, confusion written all over his face.

“What’s wrong?” Stone asked you, and you took a deep breathbefore gesturing for him to sit down on the sofa with you.

“There’s something I need to tell you…” You started, but wascut off by Stone.

“There’s someone else.” He said, his voice grave as hestared at you intently. A laugh bubbled in your throat and you started tochuckle, and Stone’s frown deepened.

“No, you idiot!” You said and the both of you startedlaughing with each other. You suddenly became serious and turned to him onceagain.

“I know we haven’t been dating that long, not really. And everythingis really hectic right now because of the band and what not, but something hascome up and it wasn’t really something that either of us has ever reallythought about.” You rushed out, and the perplexed look on Stone’s facedeepened, as he tried to figure out exactly what you were saying.

“What’s going on?” He asked, his tone suggesting that hewanted you to just spit out whatever was causing the problem. You took a deepbreath and turned to him once again.

“I’m pregnant.” You said, and the silence in the room grew.Stone looked away from you, looking at the ground as if in deep thought. You startedrambling as a way to cover up the awkwardness in the room.

“I know we never planned this, and it’s so unexpected, but there’sabsolutely no pressure on you if you don’t want to be part of this. I don’twant to pull you down or hold you back by something that we never planned for.And I really don’t want you to feel trapped or…” You were cut off as Stoneturned and clamped his hand around your mouth, stopping you from babbling on.Once he realised you were finally going to stop, he let his hand fall and gaveyou a small smile.

“I’m not going to lie, this is completely unexpected and it’san understatement that we didn’t plan for this. But I love you, and want to bewith you regardless of the fact that we haven’t known each other that long. Youmake me so fucking happy. And I know it’s going to be hard raising a kid, butfucking hell, that baby is going to make me so happy too. I love you, and nomatter how inexperienced we are, we’re going to get through and make amazing parents.”He said, conviction lacing his words and making tears spring to your eyes.Stone started laughing at you and you smacked him on the arm.

“It’s these fucking hormones okay! They make me emotional.” Yousaid, and he leaned into you, placing a kiss on your lips as he continued chuckling.

“You’re going to make a great parent, you know that?” Hesaid, and you brushed his long hair to the side, placing a kiss on his temple.

“And you’re going to be the best dad in the world.”

*****

Finally another request! So my laptop is up and running again thanks to a tech guy my mum is friends with, but everything on it has been lost. Luckily, I still have really important stuff for college since I back it up on a memory stick to make it easier to work on, but everything else that was on my hardrive is lost, which is shit. But hopefully I’ll update another chapter in the next couple of days now xxxx

[gibsonmusicart]

How Co-writersDivide A Song

UNDER COPYRIGHT LAW, as soon as one of your original song ideas is recorded on a cassette tape or the lyrics to one of your compositions is written on a sheet of paper, a copyright is formed. A copyright grants you the exclusive “first right” to reproduce, distribute, perform, and sell your compositions to the public. But what does copyright law say about your rights when an original idea is formed between two or more people; as in the case when a joint work is created? This is an area where things get a bit more tricky. Therefore, a few principles regarding joint works must be understood between the authors. The most important principle has to do with ownership. Lets begin by taking a look at what copyright law says, then explore the exceptions to copyright law per written agreement, and finally consider the “all for one, one for one philosophy.” Division Of Ownership Under Copyright Law There’s a presumption under copyright law that the authors of a joint work are automatically considered equal contributors. This simply means that if a band writes a song, each writer automatically owns an equal share—no matter how big or small their musical or lyrical contribution. Determining a MUSICALLY OR LYRICALLY contribution is less simple. A “lyrical” contribution is obviously the words written as part of a musical composition. A “musical” contribution, however, is what’s often the source of great confusion. Neil Gillis, Vice President of A & R And Advertising At Warner/Chappell Music, says that a musical contribution includes the melody, as well as any pre-existing riff or groove that becomes an integral hook to the song. Take the drum part to the song “Wipe Out,” for example, or the bass riff to the song “Come Together.” Would these songs be the same if either part was excluded? Certainly not! Nevertheless, Neil Gillis warns that he would never walk out of a writing session without first being clear among all the writers what percentage of each composition he owned. A simple agreement will suffice. It’s not even a bad idea to record writing sessions on a small recorder, and to keep copies of original lyric sheets in case a dispute between writers ever materializes. Unfortunately, disputes between writers are not uncommon. Exceptions To Copyright Law Per Written Agreement Keeping in mind what copyright law says, if the percentage split in a composition is intended to in any way to be other than equal, there needs to be a written agreement setting forth what that split really is. For instance, if the other members of your band agree that the bass player’s contribution in a song should only entitle him to a ten percent share, this must be put in writing! You may be wondering whether any musician would carelessly agree to a smaller percentage share than he or she actually deserves. It’s been known to happen! In fact, I’ve known several musicians who, throughout the course of performing with one extremely successful rock singer (who must remain anonymous), signed away 100 percent of their song shares in return for a small sum of money. Not realizing the potential value of their shares over the long term, the guys felt that it was what they needed to do at the time to keep their positions in the band. Needless to say, they’re all kicking themselves now. This is one case where you want foresight, not hind sight, to be 20/20. The “All For One, One For All” Philosophy With all this talk of what’s copyrightable and who’s entitled to what, you might ask what happened to the “All for one, one for all” philosophy that most young bands and writers swear to. After all, if a group of writers stuff themselves into a practice room to spend hours of their valuable time experimenting with song ideas and recording demos, is it really fair that the harmonica player gets zero interest in a song just because he wasn’t feeling as lyrically or melodically creative as the others that day? And what happens when all the writers make relevant suggestions and have to determine whose chorus idea gets used? Can this potentially turn the writing process into a competitive game of who’s getting credit rather than focusing on writing the best song possible? I know this all sounds a bit immature, but it’s a very real problem. Consequently, many bands have an initial agreement stating that all of its members will receive an equal split in the songs regardless of who comes up with what. The “all for one, one for all philosophy” makes perfect sense at first, and works for many years of a relationship. However, once a group becomes successful and everyone in the industry begins telling the vocalist or guitarist that he or she’s the real star and genius of the band, trust me—the divisions in the new songs will quickly change in their favor. For example, guitarist Stone Gossard and vocalist Eddie Vedder wrote most of Pearl Jam’s songs, yet the band originally split the percentages in its compositions equally—each member (five in total) received 20 percent. However, as the group became more successful and vocalist Eddie Vedder was recognized as “the star” or “the man,” essentially becoming the only irreplaceable member of the group, the band wanted to keep him happy. The group allotted 36 percent of each song to Vedder, and 16 percent went to each of the other three members of the band. In another—far more drastic—example, Jimmy Page and Robert Plant of Led Zeppelin took it upon themselves to begin wandering off on their own to a cottage in Scotland called Braun-yur and demoing complete song ideas for Zeppelin III. In other words, this is where the other members of the group began to get cut-out of the songwriting process. Surely no one wants to lose out on their profitable piece of the pie, but the harsh reality is that there's usually one or two key writers in a group dynamic who are the principle creators and genius, and it takes a great amount of maturity on the part of the other members to somehow recognize and deal with this—plain and simple!

By Bobby Borg

www.Music-Articles .com

[4birds-of-a-feather]

Chapter 26 - Man, it doesn’t show signs of stoppin’ [part 5]

Birds Of a Feather

(In the previous chapters: Layla’s a bit jealous about Eddie and Sara’s sudden complicity, but she calms a bit after spending some time with the guy, who’s offered himself to help her to prepare dinner. Against her wishes, Sara’s forced by her best friend to abandon her pajamas and dress up all dollish; the bell rings and the girl’s compelled to go see who’s there. WARNING: A Christmas Eve chapter when Carnival Easter has already ended?! You know it: job, University and illnesses slowly kill us. Bear patience with us, guys 🌷)

Sara completely ignored the spyhole – otherwise she would have surely refused herself to let in whoever was standing on the other side of the door – and proceeded to fling the door open. <Where has she hidden those legs for all this fuckin’ time???> was the first thought of one of the two figures that appeared in front of her, but his friend abruptly stopped his inner monologue by giving him a couple of nudges and starting to sing a ridiculous rendition of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, so he couldn’t do anything but joining him in that performance. In the meantime the girl was watching their impromptu show leaning against the door jamb, with her legs crossed and a straight face. “I believe you two are expecting some candy or a couple of dimes as a reward for this little show of yours, hm?” she promptly addressed them immediately after they had finished to sing. “Well, actually we didn-” “Wait here, I’ll be back in a few secs” she turned on her heel and went back into the loft, while the first guy hadn’t been able to take his eyes off the way her skirt had slightly twirled. “A reward?” the other guy pointed out, but his friend just shrugged and kept on staring at the exact point where the girl had been standing. “Weeeeell,” Sara had finally reappeared in front of them “here’s the agreed-upon payment: wouldn’t want you guys missing it for anything in the world” and, thus said, she blared an air-horn out of nowhere with a deadpan expression. At that sound both Layla and Eddie ran out the kitchen to find Stone and Mike covering their ears while Sara was doubled over laughing. “Fuck, you should have seen your faces when I mentioned the reward! And when you finally received it?! Honestly, I don’t even know how I was able to keep that straight face for all that time!” the girl kept on giggling, while her best friend gave her a shove and started to scold her. “Saraaa! That wasn’t nice at all, c’mon!” “Not nice, but funny? Sure as hell!” “C’mon, guys, don’t stand at the door – come in!” Ed had addressed his bandmates, still intent on rubbing their ears, and the guys finally followed him inside. When Mike was walking past her to go in the living room, Sara quickly turned and gave him a smacker on the cheek that left him speechless. “Wh-” “You didn’t deserve it, your only fault was being in company of Gossard – I had to rectify the low blow” “Oh yes, my presence is so harmful for you – enlighten me about this mean comment of yours, Fancini” the person concerned crossed his arms with a slight smirk on his lips. “Tell that to my poor skirt – you almost burnt it with all those stares” she retorted, chuckling when the guitarist flushed “C’mon, Gossrad, let’s join the others in the living room” and, thus said, she linked arms with him and dragged him to the other room. “… so we looked at each other and said ‘let’s head to VedderAment Residence and see if Layla’s preparing some of her masterpieces’, and here we are” Mike was explaining their presence among them, and Eddie quickly answered back. “You’re really lucky, because our chef here was supposed to spend Christmas with her family, but her flight was cancelled because of the snow” “Speaking of snow! You guys take a seat, I’m going to make something hot for the two of you so you won’t freeze” Layla stepped into the conversation and made her way to the kitchen, with her best friend immediately following her. “You better keep an eye on the dinner, El – I won’t eat ash” Sara clicked her tongue while shaking her head “I’ll make two hot chocolates for our guests, don’t worry about it” “Hot chocolate made by you? I don’t know if I should be more perplexed or frightened by this offer” “It’s not an offer, Gossrad: I’m going to force it down your throat, you’ll see” she chirped, finally entering the kitchen. “She makes a mean hot chocolate, I can assure you” the singer intervened in her defense, while Stone looked at him as if he had grown another head. “See, Stoney? We don’t have to worry” the other guitarist smiled at him, then shouted in Sara’s direction “Can I have marshmallows?? Pretty pleeeease??”  “Just because it’s you who’s asking!” she shouted back, while Layla looked at her suspiciously “Are you sure everything’s ok, Sara? You don’t look too much like yours-HA! I KNEW IT! When did you steal that beer from our stock? That’s for the party!” “Shut up, I’m on a roll” the other girl stuck her tongue out and went on with her hot-chocolate-making task. After she finished, she put the mugs, the sugar bowl and the milk jug on a tray and began her journey toward the living room – in the meantime Layla had already shouted “Incoming supplies!”, hoping that somebody would come from the living room to help her best friend. Luckily for them, Mike promptly snatched the tray from Sara’s shaky hands before the girl could cause the formation of a giant lake of hot chocolate in the middle of the hallway. “Rescue completed – over and out!” the guitarist released a sigh of relief that was immediately replaced by a huge beam.

************************************************************************************************ Stone and Sara were in the middle of a heated argument about what was the best Christmas rock song and Mike took the opportunity to leave using the excuse of taking away the tray with the empty cups. As he walked into the kitchen he was met by the image of a small playful flour fight between Layla and the singer of his band. <Uh, it’s like being between a rock and a hard place, a sarcasm match in the other room, two lovebirds making goo goo eyes at each other in this one…> “Ok, just ignore me guys! I’m waving a white flag. I’m neutral. I’m Switzerland” the guitarist said as he walked across the kitchen and put the tray into the sing. “Hey Mike! You don’t really give off the Swiss vibe really” said Eddie, as she was dusting off some flour from his hair. “Why not? Am I not neat enough?” he fake pouted. “Why would you say that? Don’t listen to him, Mikey, you’re neat. And you still have chocolate, so you’re the most Switzerland than anybody else here” Layla walked up to him and removed a small trace of chocolate from the corner of Mike’s mouth with her fingers. “Thank you Miss Boulais” the guitarist took a bow as he thanked the girl. “You’re welcome McSweetie” she mirrored his gesture and as she did and looked down Mike noticed the slightly annoyed face of his bandmate behind them. “Ok, I’m gonna leave you two to your… uh… thing and go back dealing with the two comedians in the living room” Mike takes a few steps back before being stopped by Layla. “Oh no please stay here, I could use some help actually” she blocked him by grabbing his arm and pulling him back. “I think… you got all the help you need actually” Mike insists pointing at Eddie, whose crease between his eyebrows was becoming more and more threatening. <This guy’s so jealous, I’m basically dead> “But it’s all almost done, the pastry’s ready” Eddie complained. “The puff pastry’s not ready yet, it needs to rest and chill in the fridge for a while. So I’m gonna go call my parents in the meantime, while you two can start peeling and cutting the fruit for the fruit salad. Would you?” Layla pleads with googley eyes. “Sure!” Eddie immediately obliged grabbing an apple from the fruit basket and Mike agreed too. <Jesus, it just takes a flutter of her eyelashes to have him do anything she wants. We lost him forever> Mike smirked to himself as he took a clean knife and started peeling a kiwi. “Thank you guys! I’ll be back” Layla said rushing outside the kitchen. “Didn’t you call your family back home?” Mike asked distractedly as he focused on his task. “Uhm not yet, maybe later… What about you?” he murmured without looking up from the chopped apple pieces. “I called them at noon, I’ll go there tomorrow for Christmas lunch. It’s a tradition, the only kind of tradition I like. Roast turkey, pecan pie and eggnog. And dying on the sofa with unbuttoned jeans. Dinner at Stone’s family house is another tradition but we had to give it up this time. Stoney couldn’t stand the presence of his sisters…“ Mike started to tell. "Why? I thought they all got along…” Eddie wondered confused. “Oh they do! But you know, the older one, Star, is married and pregnant and now Shelly has a boyfriend too. He wanted to avoid the questions about when he will settle down too you know… Plus Star is due like right now and could deliver a fresh human anytime and is not exactly calm. She almost broke my hand as I shook hers when I met her” Mike recalled and cracked his still hurting fingers. Eddie smiled and thought about how he used to be the one who had already settled down with a girlfriend while his younger siblings were still dealing with school problems and dramas and teenage crushes. He missed them and his mum too and he hated that he couldn’t be with them this time. <I can’t be in the same room with that guy not even for a minute> “… And that’s why we came here. We were lucky” “Yeah considering what Layla’s preparing, I think we’d end up unbuttoning our pants on the couch too” Eddie claimed and McCready gave him an amused glance. “Eddie, I see you like her but I think you’d better keep your PDAs under control this time” he joked and was met with a handful of flour right into his face. “If you want a fight, you just got yourself one” Mike laughed and the two guys started to basically destroy the kitchen.

************************************************************************************************ “Hey, y’all! Come sit down at the table, dinner’s ready!” Layla called, as Eddie and Mike were bringing food from the kitchen and she was repeatedly trying to strike a match to light up the red candles of the centerpiece placed in the middle of the table. <Shit...> she cursed internally because every single match she tried was either breaking or simply not lighting up. “Here” the singer stepped up and used his lighter to light up the candles. “Oh thank you, Ed. You’ve just saved Christmas!” Layla cheered and didn’t notice the others had already taken their seats in the twinkling of an eye, at least until she heard Sara basically yelling into her ear. “Enough with this Christmas bullshit, let’s eat!” “Sara! Wait” Layla prevented her friend from helping herself to some baked pasta by playfully slapping her hand. “Wait what? We’re all here!” the other girl pouted, holding her hand a little back but also keeping an eye at her roommate, waiting for a moment of distraction to attack food again. “And where the hell did you sit?” Layla pointed out ignoring her friend’s reaction. “On a chair? Why? Should I have waited and be standing so we could pray and sing Kumbaya all together before eating?” Sara remarked with a smirk. “No, I just meant that that one’s supposed to be Ed’s place, since he lives here” the other girl explained, referring to the head of the table. “I live here too” Sara retorted. “You know what I mean...” “Hey, for me it’s not a problem at all, I can sit somewhere else” Vedder tried to settle the dispute but Layla insisted. “NO! It’s your seat and you’re gonna sit here. And, by the way, you just have to read” she went on and Eddie didn’t immediately get the meaning of her words. Then he looked down and noticed a place card next to the glass with his name written on it and a hand-sketched Santa surfer in the corner. “That’s cute” “I have a Christmas muffin! I mean, this is a muffin and there’s Mikey written over it; I guess it’s for me, is it?” Mike asked, waving his card around in an excited way. “It is, Muffin Man! How are things in Drury Lane?” Layla joked and the guitarist took his seat on her right. “How many other Mikeys do you think are in this place right now? And why am I a toad with a rifle?” Stone asked out of the blue. “That’s not a toad! It’s a fox!” Layla cried-laughed at the same time. “... A hunter fox” “It’s a fox with a guitar!” “A very badly drawn fox with a guitar, I may add” Stone said with a straight face and sat down in front of Mike. “Don’t listen to him, they’re cool.” Eddie reassured her, sitting down as Sara left him her seat “By the way, when did you do them?” “Oh, I just doodled something while I was talking to my mum on the phone” Layla explained, showing her own card to the others that represented the girl with a scrub and a mysterious vial in her hand. “Aaaaaaw, so cute!” Mike exclaimed while Sara was the last one to sit down, next to Eddie and right in front of Layla. “I won’t complain only because you drew me as a glamorous cat, you know my weak points” the girl winked at Layla, who started to fill the gang’s plates.

************************************************************************************************ “This quiche is pure heaven” Gossard said, almost licking his plate clean and then handing it to Layla for another round. “Oh well, actually I had to improvise with what I had in the fridge, it’s not the original quiche recipe. I didn’t have nutmeg and the large-grain salt would have been a better choice. And I had to use sour cream instead of creme fraiche but-” the girl answered and started a rant about her dish but nobody was really paying attention, as they were all busy eating. “Shut up, Layla, it’s good” Stone silenced her jokingly but with a brusque tone that made Eddie finally look up from his plate. “Hey...” “What? I said it’s good, it’s delicious. It was a compliment, darling” Stone shrugged as Layla passed him his now refilled plate. “That’s a not so ordinary way to make a compliment” Eddie complained whereas Layla giggled and ignored the whole exchange. “He’s generally sparing with praise, you should take it as it is” Mike reassured everybody as he poured himself some more wine. “I’m never sparing with these girls, I’m a gentleman” Stone remarked, taking Layla’s hand and pretending to kiss it. “Uhm?” Sara sensed she’d been mentioned somehow and, still chewing on her food, focused her attention on Gossard’s smug face. “What do you think of the food? Do you like it?” Layla asked the singer, who was taken aback and almost choked on the pasta. “Uh it’s, it’s great, the taste is good, very good, it’s... tasty” he mumbled. “Now that’s a much weirder way to make a compliment, Vedder” Stone made fun of him and his difficulties with words. “Dinner’s great and company too. But it’d be even better if the whole gang was here: anybody knows where the fuck Jeffy is?” Mike asked, filling up everyone else’s glass with red wine. “May I disagree with your last statement, McCready?” Sara gave him a nasty look and gulped down wine as if she was washing down a bad taste in her mouth. “He went to a party, I guess thrown by those two girls... you know... ” Stone replied, nonchalantly looking straight at Sara. “The ones we met at the Moore?” asked McCready, suddenly intrigued. “Yes, and I’m extremely surprised you remember about them, since you were plastered” Gossard chuckled and laughed even more when he made eye contact with an annoyed Layla. “Red and shorty... how were they called...” he put down his fork and was now rubbing his temple in an attempt to remember. “Sylvia and Theresa” Eddie answered and both Sara and Layla instinctively turned around to look at him. “You remember them well...” Layla huffed and the whole table froze. “Well, huh, Jeff told me their names before he left... I don’t even know who’s who” Eddie giggled nervously and didn’t really know why. <Why am I embarrassed? She isn't jealous... is she?> “Either one can go, then” the girl faked a huge smile before literally stabbing her quiche with the fork. “Ah, they can both go fuck off, they’re so boring” Mike dismissed the whole thing with a shrug and another sip of wine. “Yeah, fuck ‘em and their stupid party” Gossard chimed in and raised his glass for an imaginary toast. “... And fuck Jeff Ament too!” Sara added, imitating Stone and raising her glass triumphantly. “Weeeell, thank you so much, hun!” a voice exclaimed from the hallway and everybody turned around at the same time to see the person they’ve been talking about right there in the flesh. “Hey, Jeffy! We were just talking right about you” Stone stood up and raised his glass towards the bass player. “Yeah, I heard that, and you were using such nice words...”

[90sgrungewriter]

1. Untitled - Eddie Vedder

Status: Unedited

“Come on, you’ll be able to meet our new singer! The dude is a fucking beast when he gets up there. You promised you’d be at our first show and you bailed, now’s your chance to make it up to ol’ Stoney!” The long-haired man ruffled your hair while you tried swatting his hand away, rolling your eyes as you sat your paint brush and tray down on the small table to your left. You stood up and glared at him.

“Go fuck yourself. I had come back late from my class, you know I felt bad about that!” You spoke loudly. You didn’t understand why it mattered so much that you were there to begin with. Stone Gossard was a popular guy.

You and him had been friends for years, along with Jeff Ament. Since grade school, you guys were the three musketeers. You often sit back and think about those days, and where you’s all are now. It was awesome that the friendship was still strong as ever, even in your twenties. While they had chose the musical way, you leaned more towards art and painting. Not that you weren’t musically inclined, in fact you were just as advanced as Stone on guitar, if not more. But for some reason it just didn’t compare to the way you felt when your paint brush stroked across the surface. That was your thing. 

It was a Saturday afternoon, you finally had a day off. You had been painting all day, Tom Petty blasting out your record player. Then Stone came in the picture, begging you to attend his Mookie show. They had recently gotten a new singer, some guy from California. You had heard the infamous demo tape, and he did indeed have the voice of an angel. But its not what you wanted to do tonight. To attend a sweaty show crowded with drunk people didn’t sound very appealing. You wanted some alone time, to just do your thing, but the guilt from ditching his last show still weighed heavy on your heart. 

Yes, Stone could be annoying as fuck, but he was still your friend. Almost family. It felt that way anyway. His parents had always treated you like their own, they were so kind. You knew you had to go tonight.

“The guys miss you, they haven’t seen you in forever. You’ve been so busy. Jeff would be happy as all fucking hell if you were there. Please?” He gave his doe-eyed stare and you just turned away and sighed.

“Alright Stone. You got me. I’ll be there-” You were interrupted when he engulfed you in a bear hug, your face squished up against his chest. He was wearing a navy blue sweater with black shorts and his dark boots. He smelled like cigarettes and mint. He had on his Dallas Cowboys hat with a bandanna underneath. He pulled away, a wide smile across his lips his hands rest on your upper arms tightly. 

“Thanks Dani! We’ll pick you up around 7. Be ready!” He kissed your cheek and with that, left your small apartment. You chuckled to yourself as you turned back to your painting. 

“You’re welcome Stone.” You smiled softly, and brushed the wet paint on to the canvas.

---------

It was currently 6:30 and you were touching up the last bits of your painting. You knew the guys would be here to pick you up soon, so you decided against cleaning shit up. That could wait.

Instead, you made your way to your bathroom and washed what you could of the paint off you. After that, you brushed your teeth and looked at yourself in the mirror. Your short hair that ran just below your jawline was a bit matted, but didn’t look terrible so you just let it be. You had no makeup on, not that you even owned any, and you didn’t quite care. Sure you had breakouts sometimes, but covering that up wasn’t going to make you feel better about yourself. Right now though, that wasn’t the case, thankfully. 

You went to your bedroom and quickly changed into your dark, ripped denim overalls and paired it with your black Chili Peppers t-shirt. Just as you were putting on your socks you heard your front door open.

“Honey we’re home!” A male voice yelled. Jeff.

Footsteps approached your room and that infectious smile stood in your doorway. 

“Hey Jeff. New hat?” you questioned standing up, observing. He was an avid fan of quirky hats and you loved it. This hat was pink and huge. He grinned and grabbed it with his hand, placing it on top of your head. You glanced in the mirror and giggled. You looked pretty fucking goofy. 

“Yes mam! Thrift store down the road from here. They got some pretty wicked stuff in there, man. You should check it out!” He stated enthusiastically and threw his arm around your shoulder. You smiled at the touch.

You slipped on your black boots and the two of you made your way outside, talking stupid shit like always. He led you to the truck they had been using since the good Love Bone days. It was big enough to put all the gear in and it had some value, you figured they would never part ways with it. 

There was loud music coming from within the truck, and you had assumed all the guys were in there but as you looked, it was only Mike, whom occupied the drivers seat. He made his way out and around over to you.

“Hey you! Where have you been hiding? Its been a while.” He asks teasingly as he wraps his arms around you. You wrapped yours around his waist equally as tight. 

Mike and you were pretty close, Stone introduced you two when you were about 15 years old. He was the one who practically taught you to play guitar. Out of the whole band, you felt like you could relate to Mike the most. He shared your quiet-like features, and definitely understood your anxiety issues. It was something you really appreciated and you enjoyed his company. It always made you happy to see these boys and you would always consider yourself lucky to have them in your life.

“I know, school has been stressing me out to the max lately.” You said as you pulled away and made your way to the back of the truck while he went back for his drivers seat. You were quickly stopped though, before you could even hop in.

“Ladies sit up front, don’t be silly.” Stone teased as he pushed you to the passenger side door that was wide open. 

“How chivalrous of you, Gossard. I thank you.” You spoke heartily. 

“I am! Whatever the fuck that means.” You laughed aloud and sat in your seat.

Next thing you guys were in  the parking lot of the club.

“I’m gonna grab a beer. That cool?” You looked at them both. Jeff was opening the back doors to the vehicle to grab his gear. 

“Yeah, if you see any of the guys in there tell them to come grab there shit.” You nodded in response and smiled. He winked and started grabbing his stuff.

You made your way inside and looked around. It wasn’t that bad, but you knew by the end of the night this place would be way more packed than it was now. But maybe some time with your friends was what you needed.

Before you could even find the bartender you spot Stone, so you  just decided to make your way over there first. He sport the exact same clothing as before, which didn’t really surprise you. 

“Well look who decided to actually show up tonight! Miss Dani, we are honored to have your presence at our second Mookie Blaylock show!” Stone spoke sarcastically, witty smile plastered on his face. You shot him a look. He was with Matt Cameron from Soundgarden and some guy you’ve never seen before. You could only assume that was Eddie. He was cute, his blue eyes gaze  into yours for just a moment. You felt a positive energy radiate from him and it made you smile.

“Yes Stone, there’s absolutely no where else I’d rather be on earth right now.” You shot back, with a lot of sass. Matt laughed.

“Hey Dani.” Matt said to you. You waved your hand and smiled wide.

You turned to the curly haired man and held your hand out. “ Hi, you must be Eddie?” He smiled small and nodded, hand enveloping yours gently. “Im Danica. But most people just call me Dani. Nice to finally put a face to the voice! That was some demo tape bud, you got a beautiful style.” And that was the honest truth. His voice was literally liquid gold on that tape. He looked down, face flushing, small smile on his lips and his brows furrowed. He looked like he did not do well with compliments so to help him out you decided to just change the subject. The last thing you wanted to do was make this guy uncomfortable here. He was probably sick of gloomy Seattle and missing the beaches of sunny California already. You wondered how long he had been here for anyway? You pulled your hand back and let it fall to your side.

“Jeff is out by the truck and wants you guys to go get your shit.” You punched his shoulder. He grabbed it in fake hurt. You flipped him the bird and tried not to crack a smile. But that proved to be too hard.

“Yep, lets go Ed!” He chirped and made his way toward the entrance. Ed smiled lightly at you. You took it as an awkward thank you for the compliment you gave him and you returned the smile. 

“I’m going to grab a beer.” you stated to Matt as Eddie was trying to catch up to Jeff.

“I’m with you, man.” Matt spoke and you guys made your way to the bartender for a cold one. 

You had spoken to Matt on numerous occasions as Mother Love Bone (as well as Green River) have played quite a few shows with Soundgarden. He was a genuine guy, a bit quiet, but so were you. And you appreciated the silence sometimes. It was never awkward. 

You guys drank your beers and spoke about upcoming Soundgarden shows. You hadn’t seen them play in a few months as things had been very hectic for them, so you were a bit excited as you learned they would be playing tonight too.

After the boys got their shit together, everyone watched Mudhoney perform an awesome show. Mark was a cool guy, and you were glad that he had a band of his own now. They were great. You all drank your beer and smoked cigarettes and laughed.There were a few joints passed around too so you were in an extremely good mood.  People were definitely starting to crowd in.

You couldn’t help but sneak a few glances at Eddie every now and then. He didn’t say much, so people were always trying to get him to talk. You felt a bit bad, so maybe you could try and get him away from everything for at least a few minutes. 

While the guys were distracted by Steve’s loud solo, your hand made its way to Eddie’s shoulder and you squeezed gently, trying not to startle him. You didn’t think it worked very well in your favor, as his head quickly turned to find you. His crystal eyes bore into your own hazel ones, face inches away. You didn’t mean to be that close to him and you hoped it didn’t make things weird. You were trying to get closer so you could talk to him without the others really paying attention. Not to mention it was super loud. You also almost forgot that Jeff’s hat was still on your head as it was just grazing Eddie’s forehead. You took a mental note to give it back to him before he goes up there.

Lucky for you, it didn’t seem to make Eddie too uncomfortable, but you did notice his face change. His brows furrowed as he pursed his lips, his cheeks were a light shade of pink and his eyes darted down to your lips for half a second. It happened so fast you almost wondered if it had really happened. But you were pretty certain it did.

“Wanna dip? We could go have a smoke outside? You look like you could step out for a few minutes.” You removed your hand as you spoke. 

He merely nodded and you both stood up, leaving your empty bottles by your seats. Looking around, everyone was still just focusing on the awesome show that the Mudhoney guys were giving the crowd. 

You made your way to the entrance, Eddie following behind you. Once you’s were outside you each lit one and smoked in silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable and you were glad about that. 

After a few minutes, you were halfway done your cig and you thought it was time to start up a small conversation, but he spoke first.

“Isn’t that Jeff’s hat?” He rose an eyebrow in curiosity. You giggled and nodded.

“Yeah, he put it on my head before we left my place and apparently its still up there.” You pointed up at it with your index finger. He laughed softly and took another drag.

“So how are you liking Seattle so far? Everything you thought it would be?” you took a puff, eyeing him. He looked sexy smoking.

He chuckled quietly, eyes glued to the ground. You had a feeling you were making it a bit awkward, but you were here now and nothing you could do. Just let it play out.

“I guess. It could be worse, right? I mean, the people are pretty cool.” He looked up at you, you observed his beautiful cheekbones. You noticed you were probably staring too long when he looked away and shook his head.

“I mean, its great.” He stuttered sounding a bit nervous. “I’m sorry, I’m insulting you aren’t I? Fuck, that’s not what I wanted to do. Its just-” You interrupted his rambling with a light chuckle.

“Don’t worry dude, I could give less of a shit what you think of the city I guess. Just trying to make a bit of talk. You miss your family right? I mean I don’t blame you. I would too.” You spoke evenly. He smiled slightly and took the last puff of his smoke and tossed it to the pavement. 

“Yeah.” Was all he said. 

You finished your smoke as well and put it out. You both still just sat there in silence staring at the street ahead of you. It was a bit busy, but nothing to crazy for a Saturday night.

Then, Eddie broke the silence this time. “Uh - Stone tells me you’re an artist?” You turned to find him already looking at you with a hint of curiosity. 

“I guess. I mean, if you wanna call it that.” You smiled.

“I’d like to see your art sometime.” He said quietly, almost like he didn’t know what he was saying, like it just flowed naturally out of his mouth. 

“Sounds like a plan.” You stated as you stood up. He got the idea and stood up as well, as you both made your way back inside the dingy nightclub.

[totalrockfiend]

Pearl Jam Gets Inducted Into Rock ‘n Roll Hall of Fame... Which Offers the Perfect Excuse to Rank Their Top 5 Albums

If you have even a casual eye cast toward the current Rock scene, you’re well aware that Pearl Jam was recently inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

The Jammers were a shoo-in as first ballot inductees, not only for ushering in the “return to rock roots” Grunge era, which killed off the late ‘80s wave of Hair Metal-induced Rock excess, but also for contributing to the alternative rock explosion that dominated the ‘90s mainstream music scene.

But the band has looooooooooooooooooooooong inspired as much derision as celebration. This dates back to Nirvana leader Kurt Cobain’s harsh indictment of the band, casting them as trend hopping commercial opportunists merely capitalizing on the crazed Grunge fervor of the early ‘90s. The irony of Cobain’s perspective was PJ front man (and eventually band leader), Eddie Vedder, shared a markedly similar ethos. 

All of that angst was washed away, however, in the wake of Cobain’s death and Pearl Jam’s string of multi-platinum albums. PJ crescendoed into the mainstream, and they seemingly became who we thought they were. Or so we thought...

The band consciously turned away from the media eye, likely at the behest of Vedder, who’d wrestled control away from founder and initial de facto leader, guitarist Stone Gossard. PJ refused to release singles or  videos, submit for interviews with major media outlets, and eschewed most traditional promotional gambits; took on Ticketmaster’s virtual monopoly on venue ticket sales, refusing to play any Ticketmaster controlled venues (essentially dooming them to play nowhere); and released a DECIDEDLY noncommercial album in the form of the world music-influenced, No Code.

Since then, Pearl Jam has basically reconciled with Ticketmaster (or risen the white flag, you decide...). And reconstituted themselves as working band that releases well-written, expertly-craft albums (which lean more toward classic ‘60s + ‘70s rock than their Grunge era, noise-rock alternative roots) and mounts massive world wide tours in support of said albums. The band’s earns their daily bread off sold out tours consistently attended by a sizable, if relatively static, fan base PJ cultivated in the early aughts, when the band became largely a touring act.

But though the PJ’s live prowess has grown legendary, Vedder and Co wouldn’t have reached Rock Hall status if it weren’t for the fantastic songs and albums that populate their considerable musical portfolio. As such, I feel duty bound to celebrated the band’s output with my own personal Top 5.

While many fans celebrate PJ’s Grunge era albums as the pinnacle of their musical production, I appreciate their entire catalog (perhaps because I’m a sucker for ‘60s +’70s era classic rock, and hone in on bands that wear those influences proudly). But as my following Top 5 will reveal, i still clearly have a soft spot for PJ‘s early, noise influenced roots myself.

1. Versus

For more casual PJ fans, slotting any album above the debut release, Ten, is akin to musical sacrilege. Meanwhile, if you speak with dedicated, long-time fans, Verses, or its follow up, Vitalogy, are most likely their choice of fave PJ album. 

While Ten is packed with a several of the bands best singles, PJ has yet to coalesce as a band. Vedder came into the fray when the majority of the music was already complete. The album’s drummer proved merely a fill-in skinsman. And Ten’s recording was helmed by a “good enough for now” producer in Rick Parashar (no offense to Ten producer, Rick, but the band never sought his services again).

Versus, however, saw the introduction of Dave Abbruzzese, the best drummer among the five to ascend PJ’s drum throne (no offense to the immensely talented Matt Cameron, but Dave Abbruzzese’s sound and style provided the ideal fit for Pearl Jam’s particular sonic palette). Abbruzzese, fresh off a massive two year PJ world tour, was not only locked-in, but laid down a tight, focused, slightly groovy (leaning toward the Chili Pepper’s vein of funk rock drumming) drum sound that kicked the band’s rhythm section and overall sound to a new, and frankly far better level. 

Versus was also the first collaboration with producer Brendan O’Brien, who would become a sixth member of sorts and go on to produce nearly all of the PJ’s subsequent albums. And O’Brien’s tightly compressed, highly dynamic, radio-ready sound was instrumental in vaulting Versus to a Billboard #1 debut, selling nearly 2 million units in the album’s first week of release.

The album rages right out of the gate with drums-forward and air-tight riffing sound of Go, followed the equally ferocious Animal. From there, Verses steps into the gorgeous folky ballad, Daughter, which along with the later track, Elderly Women Behind the Counter in a Small Town, rank among PJ’s strongest, most evocative ballads to date. The album goes on to address a variety of social issues in Glorified G (gun control), W.M.A. (the police’s questionable treatment of minorities), and Rats (a rumination of society’s increasingly numb disaffection). The social angle is particularly notable here because no one in mainstream rock was calling out these growing societal ills at the time. Meanwhile all have become causes de jure.

In the sum total, the band’s performances, the production and the songwriting quality add up to the best album in PJ’s formidable catalog.

2. Vitalogy

As I mentioned above, among the Pearl Jam devote, the vote over the band’s best album is largely split between Versus + Vitalogy.

In many ways, Vitalogy is Versus Part II. The album applies the Versus template: Roaring rockers (Last Exit, Spin the Black Circle, Whipping, Satan’s Bed), emotive ballads (Nothingman and Better Man), and mid-tempo, classic rock influenced tunes (Corduroy and Immortality).

Vitalogy, however, adds a few new wrinkles, good and bad, to the PJ mix. Additions that perhaps foreshadow the direction of their abysmal follow up album, No Code. Aye Davanita has a loping, unfocused, world music feel that kind of misses the mark. Pry, To is a minute long noise freak-out that features Vedder continuously repeating an unintelligible phrase over wailing guitars and cacophonous drums. Bugs, a Tom Waites influenced “ballad” of sorts, has Vedder ruminating on planet Earth’s inevitable takeover by our considerable insect population, set to a discordant accordion backing track. Hey Foxmohandlemama, That’s Me is a sound collage a la the Beatle’s Revolution #9 that’s no more coherent and no less pretentious than the famed Liverpudlians’ inexplicable White Album add-on.

The new “wrinkles” certainly don’t tarnish the album or hurt it’s overall quality. In fact, the tunes add sparkle and spice to the whole affair. But in comparison to Versus’ tightly-focused 12 song attack, Vitalogy clocks in as a clear second place finisher. 

One side note, though. Vitalogy plays host to my personal fave PJ tune, Corduroy. With a quiet, tension-building intro; thundering, overwhelming choruses; and bouncy verse, Corduroy is study in dynamics. And thematically, the tune is classic Vedder. “I would rather starve than eat your bread...” is just one of many lines championing the under-class. Dynamics aside, Corduroy is emblematic of the classic rock-influenced sound the band would eventually shift toward.

3. Yield

Following the sonic and commercial misstep, No Code, Yield was heralded as Pearl Jam’s “return to form.” And what a form Yield encompasses! Despite the title’s sentiment, Yield comes roaring right out of the gate with the ferocious Brain of J, rollicking Faithful, and the plodding yet noisy No Way. The album turns it up here, in a fashion, with a pair of perfectly polished radio singles, Given to Fly and Wishlist (PJ’s first singles since Ten). 

The album’s middle and late noisy rockers, and the niffy closing ballad, All Those Yesterdays, combine with the opening salvo makes Yield an impressive outing. No quite up to the (considerably high) bar set by Versus + Vitalogy. But a strong album none-the-less, and stunning turnaround in the wake of PJ’s No Code doldrums.

4. Ten

Ten, “the album that started it all.” And what an album it is! My introduction, to both Pearl Jam and Ten, can in the form the Alive video, which debut on MTV’s Headbangers Ball in early September, 1991. A slower tempo, thoughtful tune, Alive was not typical Headbangers Ball fare. PJ’s jeans and flannel attire, already a rock uniform for many a disenfranchised youth, and the band’s Seattle origins, a city that had already begat burgeoning metal acts, Soundgarden and Alice in Chains, most likely helped land Alive on the then popular Friday late night show.

Following the Headbangers premier, I snapped up a copy of Ten form my local Tower Records, and was immediately seduced by what was clearly a stunning debut album from a band intent upon unending the status quo in the mainstream rock scene of the day. Once, Even Flow, Why Go, and Deep are noisy rock master works, while Porch, a Vedder composition, sport an incredible riff as heavy as it is catchy. In addition to the amazing rockers, Ten is also includes two haunting, dark ballad, the tortured jam, Black, and the bleak Jeremy, replete with bassist Jeff Ament’s chiming 12-string bass. But Ten’s sonic diversity doesn’t end there, as Oceans, Garden and Release all offer, distinctive, exploratory soundscapes unlike anything found in hard rock at the time.

Ten rocketed the Pearl Jam to the top of the dawning ‘90s alt-rock heap, selling over 13 million copies (13x Platinum, a certified Diamond release). But as fantastic an album as Ten, and the singles it bore may be, I still contend it only hints at Pearl Jam’s potential and talent. Potential the was far more fully realize on their next two follow ups, Versus + Vitalogy.

5. Lightening Bolt

Riot Act, Biaural, and PJ’s 2006 eponymous release saw Pearl Jam in a bit of a holding pattern. Those albums, though well-crafted showcases of solid songwriting, strong performances and capable production, leaned a bit too heavily on a classic rock vibe. Don’t get me wrong, the songs and sounds on these albums are by no means bad. The classic rock obsessed Vedder is capable of crafting excellent ‘60s + ‘70 flavored tune like nobody’s business. But that approach leaves out the band’s noise-rock, grunge roots, which are integral elements of the sound that made PJ so distinctive all those years ago. 

2009′s Backspacer was a more definitive attempt to recapture PJ’s grunge roots, and included several successful chart singles (The Fixer, Among the Waves). But by the album’s mid-way point, the songs all began to sound the same, blending into one long, indeterminate rocked-up soundscape.

But rather than trying for a “return to form,” with Lightening Bolt, Pearl Jam has simply settled into doing what they do best... Serving up a mix of noise-inflected rockers (Mind Your Manners, My Father’s Son, Lightening Bolt), mid-tempo classic rock-influenced jams (Getaway, Swallowed Whole, Infallible), and emotive ballads (Sirens, Pendulum, Sleeping By Myself).

The album certainly doesn’t have the fresh-faced immediacy of Ten, or the tightly-focused ferocity of Versus or Vitalogy. But some 25+ after their start, it stands to reason Pearl Jam has changed. The members are no longer hungry for musical success. No longer interested in conquering anything. They’ve already reached the mountain’s peak. Now they’re just doing to for the love of music. And where many a band in this position might turn out self-indulgent crap, Vedder and the boy’s are still committed to producing quality Rock ‘n Roll.

Congrats to the band on Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction, they’re clearly deserving of the honor. And here’s to another 25+ years in the game. Perhaps they’ll become America’s answer to the Rolling Stones? One can only hope!

[gimme-stitches]

1, 6, 7, 10, 12, 17, 18, 26, 37, 44, 45, 59, 60, 62, 65, 68, of the music asks 💜🎵

1. A Song you’re ashamed of liking

“All Star” by Smash Mouth, “The Crow and the Butterfly” by Shinedown, and several songs by Jason Derulo

6. An overrated band

U2, yuck

7. An overrated song

“Elderly Woman Behind The Counter In A Small Town” by Pearl Jam SORRY EVERYONE

10. If you could see any band/artist live, who would it be

Smashing Pumpkins original lineup

12. saddest song you know

This is hard, but I’m going with “Brick” by Ben Folds Five

17. One band you’d have get back together/bring back from the dead

I’d bring back Freddie Mercury because QUEEN

18. You’re forced to listen to only one album for the rest of your life, what album is it

Siamese Dream by Smashing Pumpkins

26. If you could get any lyrics tattooed, which would you choose

I’ve thought about this a lot, but I can’t get anything to stick.

37. A song that has a lot of meaning to you

“For Me This Is Heaven” by Jimmy Eat World

44. Something you’d give ANYTHING to hear performed live

I’d probably melt into a puddle of goo if Stone Gossard ever did “Pigeon” live.

Alternatively, “Stranger Things Have Happened” by Foo Fighters

45. A song from a band/artist that’s from your town/city/state/province 

Well, Dave Grohl and I both spent our formative years in Virginia, albeit different parts of Virginia

I was born in Arkansas and I literally don’t know of anyone who is from there

59. A song you love with a colour in the title

“Blue on Black” by Kenny Wayne Shepherd Band… this could also qualify as a guilty pleasure maybe

60. A song you love with a number in the title

“4th of July” by Soundgarden

62. A song that needs to be played LOUD

“Leash” by Pearl Jam… almost all of Vs. really

65. A song that you think everyone should listen to 

“Everlong” by Foo Fighters and “Surrender” by Cheap Trick

68. A song that you remember from your childhood

When I was a kid, I listened to country because I didn’t know any better. The Dixie Chicks did a cover of “Landslide” by Fleetwood Mac. It was my first time hearing the song and I didn’t know who Fleetwood Mac was. I remember this since that song (and Fleetwood Mac in general) has become one of my favorites.

Phew, I think that’s all of them! Thanks for the ask! :D

[talhaghafoor2019-blog]

Northwest Music Scene Launches NW Music Forum - NorthWest Music Scene

So we finally launched the NW Music Forum after talking about it for at least the last few years. It just launched so it’s pretty much bare-bones but if you’d like to see what we have planned, give it a visit, you’ll get the idea. Go ahead and register when you are there too. The plan is to make this a killer resource for local bands and music fans. If you know how forums work then you probably know that we’ll need a little bit of help.

Some of the features so far are:

All of this and much more. Get your band on there and make some noise.

One of the ideas we are working on is a thing called the northwest music family tree. This one is going to require a lot of hard work as well as input from music fans and bands but here’s what we envision. We want to take a band like say Pearl Jam or Soundgarden and go backwards. Every band Stone [Gossard] or Chris Cornell have been in, and then all the members that were in those bands, so one and so forth.  Sort of a 6 degrees of separation type thing.

While the site is certainly going to contain a lot of our rich musical heritage, that’s only a small part of it. We want this to be the place bands come when they are looking for a drummer or a bass player and conversely, musicians looking for a band will post there. Of course we have a huge following on social media so that should help spread the word. Bands that are available for gigs will post so and venues that are looking for bands will do the same.

Another idea we are working on with the forum is how we can best help local unsigned, or independent bands/musicians.  We do know that the bands that are making the most noise on the forum will stand a better chance of making their way onto this website(the one you are reading this article on) and on our growing social media sites.

We are working on a band submission feature but if you want your band included before we get that figured out, send an email to northwestmusicscene@gmail.com with your band name, a link for your band(Website, Facebook or Bandcamp) and where your band is from.  Put “Forum Submission” in the subject line of the email.

Bands that have a song they think would work for the northwest airwaves are encouraged to post in the “Airplay Central” category. We’ll be monitoring it and so will radio people to see if anything fits their shows.

Of course there will plenty of music news at NW Music Forum but it won’t be from just us. We started a subreddit a few weeks and you can click HERE to see the sites the news will be coming from.

Sponsorship and advertising opportunities exist for those business that want to reach a large audience of music fans and music industry insiders. More info about that available by emailing northwestmusicscene@gmail.com

Lately we have been working on different strategies to help spread the word about the massive amount of talented local bands that call the northwest home . Although we have pretty large social media numbers that only goes so far and the amount of bands we can help there is limited. So we decided to work a little harder.

We are hosting videos on Facebook to get more eyes and ears on the bands. get more details about that below:

We mentioned this yesterday but it's worth re-mentioning. We are going to start hosting local band videos on this…

[thephilologist-blog]

Pearl Jam against George W. Bush - Kalina Szewczyk

“I want to be proud of this again.”

The maximum capacity of DeltaPlex Arena in Grand Rapids, Michigan, is a little over 6000. This is about the number of people that were gathered there on October 3, 2004, to attend a Pearl Jam show, where Eddie collected an American flag from one of the concertgoers and held it up for everybody to see. “I want to own it,” he went on, “not hollow-bodied patriots putting cheap plastic ninety-eight-cent versions on their SUVs.”[1] It was not the first time a Pearl Jam show included a political speech. The band had been involved in politics since the 90s, but in the early years of the second millennium, with the not always proverbial threat of the Bush administration hanging over the States’ collective heads, political activism became something of an identification mark for Pearl Jam.

[1] Pearl Jam Twenty, 290.

At first, the opposition took the mild form of Eddie Vedder very publicly supporting a third-party candidate Ralph Nader during the 2000 election campaign. Not only did he give Nader a few thousands from Pearl Jam’s own funds, but he also performed at three rallies and loudly voiced his support:

I think the youth that aren’t voting [are] just having a hard time getting excited about anything. And they have concerns. But the fact that they’re not acting and not voting is leaving them out of the process. If that youth vote gets out there and proves they’re a force, then their issues may soon be addressed. If Ralph was in these debates, there’d be a dozen extremely, extremely important issues that would be addressed that aren’t going to be addressed with the other two [candidates]. Ralph can speak out about these because he’s not for sale.[1]

Despite Eddie’s dedicated efforts, George W. Bush became the 43rd President of the United States, thereby condemning himself to years of merciless ridicule from a small, but very angry citizen - and his four bandmates. Pearl Jam’s first release after the election, 2002’s Riot Act, features “Bu$hleaguer”, a protest song penned by both Eddie and the guitarist Stone Gossard. Starting with the title, “Bu$hleaguer” is practically made of baseball metaphors, aimed at the President’s sorest spots. This specific choice of sport is probably caused by Bush having owned stakes in the Texas Rangers team. Baseball is also the second most popular sport in America, making the lyrics both interesting and easy to understand for most potential voters.

A bush league is an amateur league in baseball slang; the title is a clear assessment of the President’s skills, or lack thereof, and the dollar sign hints at his motivations. The song’s opening verse, spoken rather than sung, opens with a pair of rhetorical questions: “How does he do it? How do they do it?”, suggesting bemusement at the Republican party’s very rise to power. “This is such a happening tailpipe of a party,” Eddie continues his resentful muttering. Indeed, an exhaust pipe, through which all the waste is discharged, is far from a flattering comparison. The party, however, does not necessarily mean the fraction only – it might refer to the administration in general, likening it to a social opportunity, as the next line mentions guests “like sugar […], so refined”. Refined sugar, however delicious and enticing, is very damaging to health; just like, in Eddie’s opinion, Bush’s tenure is damaging to the country.

The second half of the verse begins with an open accusation: “a confidence man” is a politer term for a scammer. “He’s not a leader, he’s a Texas leaguer,” the spoken lyrics continue, referencing both Bush’s home state and a baseball slang term for a weak, but lucky single – a metaphor for the narrow victory in the election. Another one follows: “Swinging for the fence, got lucky with a strike”. To “swing for the fence” means to attempt a risky hit that can either result in completing the home run, or missing the ball entirely. For Bush, his job is “simple”; he was “born on third, thinks he got a triple”[2]. The quote that mentions both the third base and one of the more difficult ways of reaching it, the triple, originated with a Texan coach Barry Switzer. It is used to describe a person that acts as if they work hard despite the evidence to the contrary, and according to the Pearl Jam fan site Three Feet Thick, the sentence came up in reference to the Bush family during the Democratic National Convention in 1988:

Dubya’s father, George Bush Sr. was the Republican candidate running for president. Among the Dem convention’s high points was then Texas Agricultural Commissioner Jim Hightower’s fiery speech which included him saying that George Bush Sr. was a person who was “born on third base [who] thought he had hit a triple.” Just as people often say Dubya only got ahead through nepotism, remember that even George Sr.’s had a head start in life. His father - Dubya’s grandfather - Prescott Bush was a U.S. Senator from Connecticut from 1952 – 1963.[3]

[1] Pearl Jam Twenty, 230.

[2] https://pearljam.com/music/song/bu-hleaguer.

[3] http://www.twofeetthick.com/2004/09/01/who-first-said-born-on-third-thinks-he-got-a-triple/.

The bridge of the song, the only part written by Stone, takes the listener to California during the 2000-2001 electricity crisis, where a “blackout weaves its way through the cities”. The power shortages were created by the Enron Corporation “in order [to] drive up prices and reap vast profits in the state’s newly deregulated energy market.”[1] During that time, the company had a close relationship with the Bush administration, “which rejected appeals from California officials for federal intervention and the imposition of price caps.”[2] Apart from subtly bringing up the President’s apparent involvement in the scandal, the line maintains the baseball motif, as the blackouts are also the much-maligned practice in baseball broadcasting that restricts TV transmission of games depending on the location of the viewers.

The chorus, however, sheds any sports references, angrily berating Bush for not keeping his campaign promises: “I remember when you sang/That song about today/Now it’s tomorrow and/Everything has changed”. The broken promise that may have aggravated Eddie the most could be the one concerning non-intervention abroad – a passionate pacifist, Eddie even used his hairstyle to campaign for peace, saying that he would keep his shocking early ‘00s mohawk until “[Americans] stop killing people abroad”[3].

The loathed President is then allowed to enjoy a short break in the second and final verse when the lyrical efforts appear to shift the focus to greedy politicians in general. They are described as “a think tank of aloof multiplication” with “a nicotine wish and a Columbus decanter”. The accusations themselves are nothing new in relation to any rulers, but the Columbus decanter, of all things invented to hold alcoholic beverages, is particularly interesting in relation to the above-mentioned step back from the non-intervention policy. Its namesake Christopher Columbus is essentially single-handedly responsible for the invasions on both Americas and the extermination of natives inhabiting the continents under the guise of exploration and scientific research. The mechanism is comparable to the States’ attempts at assisting other countries by invading them and destabilising their governments. “Retrenchment and hoggishness,” Eddie sums up, then proceeds to point out that the rich people in power have no idea how far removed they are from the lives of those they’re supposed to serve (“The aristocrat choir sings/’What’s the ruckus?’/The haves have not a clue”). Meanwhile, ordinary citizens are left with “the immenseness of suffering” and little chance for a better life. The song ends with the word “chains” sang softly and quite menacingly until it fades out.

The strategy, however, included more than just scalding song lyrics. The first ever live performance of “Bu$hleaguer” on December 6, 2002, included what was soon to become an iconic routine. Eddie would dance onto the stage wearing a sequined jacket over his regular outfit and a Bush rubber mask, then proceed to abuse the mask in a variety of ways for the remainder of the song. On April 1, 2003, dozens of people left in the middle show, angered by the performance, which was followed by a sour press review. Eddie provided his own and not entirely true version of events:

I come out with the mask and do a dance […]. But I can’t sing through the mask. So I take the mask off, take the mike off the stand, and set the mask on there. I have to be gentle, because I want the mask facing forward. Then I sing to him. Somehow, this was interpreted as “impaling”.  […] I guess the right-wing media took it as just another thing to jump on that we were anti-American and antipatriotic, and that became an issue.[4]

[1] [2] https://www.wsws.org/en/articles/2002/05/enro-m10.html (accessed May 27, 2017).

[3] Pearl Jam Twenty, 253.

[4] Pearl Jam Twenty, 270.

The actual shows proceeded in a very different way; the lyrics were usually embellished with some impolite words, causing a variety of reactions (the recording of the Showbox concert shows guitarist Mike McCready flash an unsure smile when he hears the expletive). The mask would get spat at and stepped on, but also cuddled and comforted; at that same Showbox show, Eddie tenderly cradles the previously trampled object against his chest and whispers “it’s okay” to it before finding a safe spot for it on the stage. As the time passed, less and less people appeared to share Eddie’s point of view and the tension reached the breaking point on April 30 in Nassau. Once more, the concert turned into a poetry performance. In addition to the usual antics, Eddie made the mask smoke and drink wine, then seemingly apologised to it with a long and searing kiss, eliciting loud boos from the crowd. Those, in turn, prompted a biting response:

You didn’t like that one. I don’t understand. Maybe you like [Bush] because he’s gonna give you a tax cut. Maybe you like him because he is a real guy, that relates to you, because he’s so down home.[1]

The audience clearly did not appreciate Eddie’s mocking tone and reacted with further booing. According to Mike, it was quite a harrowing experience: “I remember there was one fireman in the front row and he was, like, showing me his badge. He looked at us like, “You’ve betrayed us.””.[2] The crowd then began to chant “USA! USA!”, causing Eddie to become visibly upset:

I’m with you. USA. I just think that all of us in this room should have a voice in how the USA is represented. And he didn’t allow us our voice. That’s all I’m saying. We love America. […] This is good, this is open, honest debate, and that’s what it should be. If we keep this back and forth, good things will happen. If you don’t say anything, you don’t know what will happen. ‘Cause we are on the brink of forever. And if we don’t participate in where this thing is going, when we are the number one superpower in the world, you want to have a part in it and make sure it’s a good thing, yeah? Plus or minus, be active. This is a good thing.[3]

Despite the attempt at reconciliation, Eddie stormed off the stage two songs later under a pouring of small change. He and the band continued to oppose Bush and the Republican party just as stubbornly, engaging in the 2004 Vote for Change tour and speaking out on importance of taking part in the election process:

We believe in the power of the First Amendment and have always exercised our right to free speech in every aspect of our lives and music. This year there is no more powerful way for all Americans to exercise that right than by voting. Given the extreme political climate of a country at war, we are proud to stand among the many artists involved in this tour and to encourage Americans not only to vote for a president, but to vote for change they wish to see in the world.[4]

In the end, Bush was elected for his second term, but during the next election campaign, Pearl Jam again jumped at a chance to help their chosen candidate. It is hard to point out the moment when Eddie gave up on his “Bu$hleaguer” performances; in 2006 in Arnhem, Netherlands, he executed the routine in an even more emotional manner. “I’m sorry, but…”[5] he tried to explain after violently headbutting the mask, but seemed to be at loss of words. The speech did come, however, after the song had ended: a justification for years and years of abuse the rubber stand-in for the President had to endure.

“If anything that just happened on the stage as I was playing pretend seemed a little bit violent to you… There’s nothing as violent as the killing a 100,000 innocent civilians in Iraq.”[6]

[1] [3] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EguwlTSzc80 

[2] Pearl Jam Twenty, 272.

[4] Pearl Jam Twenty, 287.

[5] [6] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PYy7_7sb24U 

[dissident-vedder]

- once upon a december  ( 𝐄.𝐕. )

anastasia!au. 1900s!au. after [y/n]’s narrow escape from the alexander palace, she lost most, if not all, memory of her childhood, only remembering the tiny details that would help her later on in life. this is the first part of a duology.

THIS FIC CONTAINS a generalized russian accent; this story is both of my own creation and inspirations (listed below); mentions of death.

A/N - layout by @adoresobs​!

INSPIRATIONS -  @zodiyack​ ‘s princess. anastasia (1997).

TRANSLATIONS - 

бабушка! Помоги мне! не оставляй меня здесь!! (babushka! pomogi mne! ne ostavlyay menya zdes'!) - grandmother! help me! don't leave me here!

медвежонок! я не могу с тобой связаться! (medvezhonok! ya ne mogu svyazat'sya s vami!) - little bear! i can't reach you!

пожалуйста, не оставляй меня здесь одну! (pozhaluysta, ne ostavlyay menya zdes' odnu!) - please don't leave me here alone!

медвежонок! (medvezhonok!) - little bear!

мой медвежонок? это правда ты? (moy malen'kiy medved'? rto pravda ty?) - my little bear? is that really you?

[y/n/n] didn’t recall much from her life. at night, she would lay in her small cot in the orphanage she’s been in since as long as she could remember (literally), and just think back on her life, index finger tapping on the hand that was folded on her stomach, foot twitching as a cold breeze blew through the room. nobody knew anything on where or when she was born but generalized where she was from by her accent. her w’s turned to v’s, rolling her r’s whenever it was not necessary, and her th’s turned to either t’s or z’s. given by this, the overseer at the orphanage decided to call her the “little russian”. she gave her a fake birthday and age and decided that it was good enough. on some of the nights, she cried, not being able to see any familiar faces that she has possibly seen before coming to the orphanage, chest heaving as anxiety coursed through her veins, freezing her to her bed.

she’d go to sleep, head pounding, temples wet, curling into her body like she was hugging herself. her fingers cradled the necklace around her neck, the small disk engraved with together in london. during these moments, bright blue eyes would appear into her memory, a boy with dark hair and pale skin smiling up at her, and every time she tried to reach him, he would disappear into oblivion. she later learned to just stay put, watching them from a distance away. these dreams would seem so short, but when she would wake, the sun was already peeking through the windows, the lace curtains not stopping the harsh rays from reaching [y/n/n]’s eyes. 

she hated waking up. hated the fact that those blue eyes she’s fallen in love with would vanish when she opened her eyes again to meet the brand-new day. her eighteenth birthday was coming up, and with that meant that she would have to leave the orphanage for good. she would miss little natalie, who hugged [y/n/n]’s legs every time she got scared, who would run into her arms and hug her as tightly as she could every time she saw the older female. 

stepping foot into the snow, [y/n/n] breathed in the chicago air, which would get quite disgusting (according to [y/n/n]) during certain days, and she avoided all of the areas that would get especially rough. she walked, cheeks bitten with cold, breath coming out in little clouds in front of her mouth, arms hugging around her as she set her eyes on the city. she had to get a job, she knew it, despite not have worked a paying day in her life. she could get a cleaning job, maybe, since she was basically in charge of cleaning the entire orphanage as the younger kids played around. the older males would just sit around and talk, pretending that they were full grown men in a country club, apple juice taking the place of actual whisky. they never paid attention to [y/n/n] as she scrubbed the floor with a soapy rag, knees aching after having spent a few hours on them, making sure all of the mud and dirt was gone, a thing of the past. 

she didn’t care if she had to stay on her knees again, just as long as she had enough money for food and an apartment. maybe she could live in a settlement house, where the progressive women opened their doors to immigrants and people in need. 

“mrs. mcdowell, I’m back,” the young adult stepped foot into the house, taking off the small bonnet from her gibson bun, sweeping back a few of the tendrils of hair behind her ear. she put up her bonnet on the coat rack, feeling the overwhelming sense to take off her corset and lay in bed, but her grumbling stomach protested, asking for food aggresively as her feet carried her into the dining room/kitchen area. 

“i made some glazed ham, carrots, mashed potatoes, and some bread rolls if you want any,” the older woman ladeled a heaping scoop of said things into a china plate, picking up the silver platter mountained with yeast rolls. "i’ll pour you some whiskey,” she settled everything down and busied herself with taking the cork out of the clear ornate bottle she always poured her bought alcohol into, left hand carrying a small lowball glass. 

“i’m too young, mrs. mcdowell,” [y/n/n] objected, taking off her white apron and settling it on the back of her chair. the other woman held up a finger, wagging it from side to side as she moved to put the whiskey down, the brown alcoholic liquid sloshing inside of the lowball glass. “you work too hard, child, you deserve one glass before bed,” she remarked. “and i’ve told you to call me marie when we first met, did i not?” she raised an eyebrow as she set the alcohol down in front of [y/n/n]. 

“you did,” [y/n/n] nodded, picking up her fork and began digging in, eating as fast as she could in order to get to bed quicker and see those blue eyes again.

lately [y/n/n]’s dreams have become a bit more vivid, making her see images of fire and a large train driving away, picking up speed as a little girl screamed, “бабушка! Помоги мне! не оставляй меня здесь!” a small hand shot out, dainty fingers reaching for the mature hand that had stuck out from the back of the train, “медвежонок! я не могу с тобой связаться!” with this indicator, the young girl’s leg ran faster, heart beating against her chest as she tried to reach the woman with the white hair. 

“пожалуйста, не оставляй меня здесь одну!“ the girl cried, and their fingertips touched, the older woman’s lithe fingers wrapping around the girl’s wrist, but a rough bump on the track caused them to slip, the bairn flying back and hitting her head on the pavement. her eyes closed, pain exploding on the back of her head, breaths shallow.

“медвежонок!” 

[y/n/n] woke up with a sharp breath, a cold sweat lining her body as she panted, and she sighed, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. she hated that dream. hated seeing the grandmother’s face of anguish, hated seeing the fires blossoming everywhere, and especially hated the young girl’s cries for help. she must have been very important if she was scared to be in a place like that.

“next!” a man by the name of stone gossard yelled out, eyebrows furrowed as he shook his head, taking notes on the pad of paper he brought. “next!” came in a girl with [y/h/c] hair, wearing a white lace dress with fur lining, a part that kept her neck and wrists warm in the cold winter air outside. she carried a broom in hand, “i’m sorry, sir, but no one is out there anymore. that seemed to be the last one.”

stone’s furrowed eyebrows deepened, picking up the photograph of grand duchess [y/n] romanov, and realizing that they looked very similar. she would be the perfect bait for that $15,000 the dowager empress marie was willing to give to the person who found her last granddaughter first. stone thumped his fist on the table, causing [y/n/n] to jump in the air. “how would you like to be [y/n] romanov for a while?” he smirked at her. “i’ll give you half the profits.” 

“how much is the profits?”

“$15,000, and. . . from what i see you doing, you are not of high standing and could use some money.”

[y/n/n] looked at the floor, calculating how much half would be. $7,500 would still be a lot of money, she thought. she could use it for a new house, a new car maybe. 

“alright, i’ll be your grand duchess for a while,” she smiled at him.

[y/n/n] looked out of the ship’s window, head resting on her hand, watching seagulls fly and people walk past. she didn't want to leave her dorm, feeling a little sick at the moment, but she was bored out of her mind. the book she brought with her was already read twice, and the other form of entertainment was music, but the dining hall was closed until dinnertime. “dowager empress marie is currently in london,” stone had informed her when he asked her to pack. a few days had passed since that interactive, they boarded on a boat from ellis island in new york and were now on their way to london.

[y/n/n]’s dreams have taken a toll on her, the young girl no longer wanting to see the fires and the woman that struck a chord on nostalgia in her heart. but why did she feel like she remembered that place despite her not remembering what seemed like half of her own life?

the two of them met jeff ament, someone who used to be in the russian court, and during their travel, jeff made [y/n/n] study everything she could on the romanov family if she were to fool marie. it was everywhere, so many names and faces to remember, but she knew she had to do it. 

“shoulders back and stand up tall,” he scrutinized her way of standing. “and do not walk but try to float.” he gave her an encouraging smile, lending her a gentle hand as he helped her sit like a royal. “now, elbows in and sit up straight. and never slurp your stroganoff.”

“i never cared for stroganoff,”  [y/n/n] said delicately, making jeff smile widely. 

“spoken like a true romanov.” 

“now here we have kropotkin, who shot potemkin in the botkin,” jeff pointed at two faces in the book he held. “and dear old uncle vanya loved his vodka,” another face. “got it, [y/n/n]?”

“no!” 

“the baron pushkin, he was short. count anatoly had a wart. count sergei wore a feathered hat.”

“i heard he’s gotten very fat,” stone added.

“and i recall his yellow cat,” [y/n/n] got excited, pointing a finger in the air, smiling as jeff rose an eyebrow at stone.

“i don’t believe we told her that.”

stone shook his head in disbelief, eyes wide as they looked back on [y/n/n], who was merely looking at all of the photos, mumbling to herself, trying to remember all the names and important events they were involved in.

five days later, the boat landed in england, [y/n/n] breathing a sigh of relief when her feet touched dry land again. stone grabbed her hand and led her through the crowd, muttering something about meeting up with a man named edward vedder (preferred to be called eddie), who was close to [y/n] before the revolution happened. since the day of her family’s demise, he has been searching far and wide for the last grandduchess, the love he held for her still unbreakable despite it being almost 12 years since they last heard of her. 

[y/n/n] shook her leg in the car as stone drove down a narrow road, men in clean business suits and women in colorful dresses passing by them, head resting against the window. “how much longer until we get there?” 

“however long it takes,” stone grumbled, tapping the wheel with a finger, breathing deeply as the scenery changed. “he’s already in marie’s house, we’ll meet him there, and you just answer marie’s maid’s questions as truthfully as you can. is that simple enough?”

[y/n/n] nodded her head quickly, remembering the crash course he and jeff gave her. her heart beating quickly in her chest, anxiety coursing through her veins, but she cleared her throat and opened the car door, breathing in the scent of roses that were planted in the garden in front of the house. the necklace around her neck felt heavy for the first time in years, and she and stone walked up the large steps to the door. “what if i fail?” she asked him. 

“then we don’t get the profits,” he knocked on the door, the sound of shuffling coming from the inside.

“coming!” a female voice calling out from the inside. [y/n/n] crossed her arms, waiting patiently as the lock turned, opening to reveal a plump blonde woman, possibly in her late fifties, beaming up at them brilliantly. “we’re here to see dowager empress marie,” stone informed her. "i believe i’ve found [y/n] romanov.”

“her highness does not want to see any more people, but i’ll see what I can do,” the woman said. “come in,” she moved out of the way, the two young adults stepping in the amazingly furnished home. a man with dark brown hair and brilliant blue eyes looked up from his spot on the couch, and the sight of him caused  [y/n/n] to gasp. it looked like the man from her dreams. were her dreams premonitions? did they tell her of who she was going to meet or had already met? but brown hair and blue eyes were common traits, so she just shook her head and tried to take him out of her mind. why did he feel so familiar though? “sir,” the woman, who had introduced herself as ethel, said, “if you would please take a seat. i’ll be interviewing [y/n/n] alone in the other room.” stone nodded and sat down, ethel taking [y/n/n]’s hand in hers and leading her into another sitting room. 

eddie’s head perked up at the sound of the girl’s name, since it sounded a lot like a nickname for [y/n]. But [y/n] was said to be dead, though marie and eddie didn’t want to believe it. they were the ones who tried to help her escape, after all. but. . . the key word was tried. 

“alright,” ethel’s motherly tone resonated from out of the room, “ [y/n/n], meet dowager empress marie feodorovna, mother of tsar nicholas ii. your grace, mr. stone gossard believes her to be grand duchess [y/n] romanov.”

marie looks at her, a hard expression on her face, looking at her from the tips of her toes to the small stray hairs on her head. “you certainly look like my little bear,” she comments. “but are you really my little bear?” she raises an eyebrow at her. “sit.” [y/n/n] moves to sit in the large armchair need the fireplace, marie sitting across from her. 

outside, eddie listened to the conversation going inside the room, straining his ears to hear everything. “where were you born?” marie asked the female in front of her.

“peterhof, russia.”

“when were you born?”

“june 18, 1901. i am currently 19 years of age.”

“what was your favorite thing to do when you were younger?”

“pull pranks on the household staff,” she remembered short tidbits as this queenly woman quizzed her. “i used to kick and scratch at my playmates, too. because of this, I was called imp by father.” 

“did you have any pets?”

“we all did, but mine was jimmy, a cavalier king charles spaniel. he was killed in a fire,” tears flooded her eyes.

“what was your favorite subject in school?”

“i hated school,” she shook her head. “i would always try to bribe my tutors into giving me good grades. it didn’t work most of the time.” 

it was time for the hard question. “how did you escape?” eddie perked up, pressing an ear to the door, wanting to hear what this girl said. 

“i don’t. . .” [y/n/n] shook her head. “i. . .” she cuts herself short, furrowing her eyebrows as she looked down at her hands, neatly folded on her lap. “the wall in the palace moved. there was a young boy with brown hair and bright blue eyes. his name. . . it started with an e. . .” all this information came pouring out of her, and she wondered how she was remembering all of this now. “but he was my best friend. he didn’t care if i kicked him or scratched him, and he told me he loved me the same day we were escaping. and then, i remember an older woman, holding out her hand for me from the back of a train. she kept yelling that she couldn’t reach me, and i kept begging her not to leave me alone. and everything went black. that’s all i remember, i’m sorry.” she looked up to see the empress staring straight at her, tears in her eyes, flooding them as her chin trembled.

“[y/n]?” marie breathed out. “мой медвежонок? это правда ты?”

all of her childhood memories came rushing back, the warmth of her grandmother’s touch, the scent of the cologne her father always wore, her mother’s hair tickling her cheek whenever she hugged her. everything. “it’s really me, baba,” she nodded, sobbing as marie hugged her tightly, crying everything she has been meaning to cry for all these years. she remembered seeing her family being killed in front of her, seeing the blood seeping out from the bullet wounds from the back of their heads, the adrenaline she felt when she fled the scene, angry men cursing at her. 

“i’ve waited for so long!”

TAGLIST:

 @stateofloveandvedder​ @state-of-love-and-lust​ @honeysympathy​ @grossgold​ @sea-sxns​ @d-arknecessities

[aboysbestfriendishismum]

Chapter 52 - Deer, dog tags and microwaves

In the previous chapter: Angie agrees to go out with Dave. Eddie keeps calling to talk to her and she has to spill the beans and tell Meg what happened in San Diego, she also tries to explain her point of view on the matter and why she's avoiding him. Grace and Meg planned to spend the evening together at Meg's place. Eventually Grace remains alone in the apartment for a few minutes and that's when Stone calls. Gossard is tender as always with her and she almost seems intimidated by his behaviour. Grace speaks to Eddie too and since she doesn't know about the kiss between Angie and him, she decides to shake things up a little and make him jealous by telling him about Angie going out with Dave that night. Eddie takes it really bad. Grace thinks her plan worked until she tells Meg and finds out where Angie and Eddie are really at. Once Angie comes back home  the girls finally have her call Eddie and tell him the truth. Angie confronts Eddie and reveals Dave has just started dating Jennifer, L7's bassplayer, and she simply went to one of their concerts with him so he wouldn't go alone and feel awkward. Eddie apologizes to Angie and confesses what he feels for her in a way he never managed to do before. Angie's friends hear it all since they forced her to put him on speakerphone.

***

Strong fragrance used in perfumery. Four letters. Starts with an M. Magnolia! No, it's eight. Mango... Mandarine... Ugh what the fuck? I strangely managed to put my hands on the copy of the Seattle Times that sometimes we happen to buy before Angie, so she hasn't done the crossword yet. But now I guess I'll have to ask my friend for help because I don't know how to go on.

“So, what was I saying? Oh yeah, I turn up at the table, usual protocol greeting with smile incuded, I ask the woman what she's having and she asks, literal words, a cheeseburger without chees and some fries” the door of her bedroom is open, I cautiously look inside and see her on the phone. Of course I already know who she's talking to. Since that night when Grace and I managed to convince her to call poor Eddie, there have been lots more calls, every day. Unfortunately not on speakerphone. Fuck, when he was there spilling his heart all out to Angie, Grace and I melted in sighs and aaaaaws and Vedder almost caught us. Am I nosey? Yes. I meddle in other people's love life to avoid thinking of the disaster which is mine? Yes, I do. Am I also genuinely happy things are going great for my friend as she deserves though? I am!

“Wait. I'm just standing there, kind of confused for how she spoke, then I reply: great, I'll take you the Go-go meal with hamburger + fries + medium drink for $ 4,99. Well, basically she doesn't even let me finish talking and says: No, no, I don't want a hamburger. I want a cheeseburger with no cheese” Angie rocks left and right on the swivel chair as she listens her sweetheart's answer with a big smile on her face.

“Exactly! Hahaha same thing I told her: So... you mean... a hamburger, madam? NO! She says, very bitterly. I said I don't want any hamburger, I asked for a simple cheeseburger with no cheese! I swear she was yelling, I was so ashamed for me but for her too” Angie rotates a little more on her chair, sees me and nods at me.

“I didn't bat an eyelid and said: So you wanna pay one dollar more for a cheeseburger but you want it without the cheese?” Angie and I burst our laughing together as I enter her room, then she goes on “Yes, that's the point, 'cause the Cheeseburger menu costs more, that's the most absurd thing! If I take an order as cheeseburger, even if I tell the guys in the kitchen not to put cheese in it, it'll still be considered as a cheeseburger. Well, you know what, this bitch widens her eyes to me and goes like: Yes, exactly! Was it so difficult for you to understand? Ahahah yeah, I told you, she was a bitch!”

“The customer's always right!” I state as I sit on her bed.

“Hey, you and Meg said the same thing almost at the same time! Anyway, since the customer's always right and this woman had just basically told me I was an idiot, whereas she was the real idiot, I cheerfully replied: Not at all, madam. There goes a Marilyn meal with cheesburger with no cheese + fries + medium drink for €5,99 for you, ok? And the bitch: Yes, that's it, now you're talking. Thank you. Oh fuck you! Hehe... wait a second, ok?” Angie laughs with Eddie, then takes the phone off her ear slightly and addresses me “Did you need anything?”

“Strong fragrnce used in perfumerie, starts with an M, four letters” I ask her, showing the newspaper.

“Musk” she answers in a couple of seconds. Yes! That was it! Why didn't I think about it. I hate her.

“Yeah, it can be actually”

“It cannot be, it actually is!” she gloats then puts the receiver back against her ear “What? Did you know it too? He knew it too”

“Well thank you both but there's no need to brag!” I throw a pillow at Angie, who manages to dodge it, then takes it up from the floor.

“Sadly used in perfumerie I'd add... What do you mean why? Musk is extremely harmful, both the synthetic and the natural one... Well, in doubt, I'd rather not have to choose between either the total extinction of an animal species or pollution and maybe choose other kinds of perfumes, don't you think? What? What animal? What do you mean? You know where does musk come from, right?” a debate starts between Angie and Eddie and I can only hear one side of it, which I think it's the most consistent part anyway “Plant? What plant? Musk is not a plant! I mean, yeah, there's also some plant but that's not what's used to make perfumes. No! It's an animal secretion, from a deer, the musk deer. No, I'm not kidding, Eddie, I swear! There deer have a gland, like a small sack under their belly, that emits this substance and they spread it around to mark their territory, especially during mating season... Hahahaha no, Eddie, it's not deer's sperm!”

Not the typical conversation between lovers, right?

“Anyway now it's basically all synthetic” I remark once I write the correct word in the puzzle.

“That's even worse because it's extremely polluting and ends up in the food chain.” Angie answers both to me and Eddie “What? Hahaha no, don't buy me musk perfume, thank you. And don't buy me any presents in general... you already did too many... yes you did... yes you did... Eddie? Please... Come on...” now we're back to more couple stuff, Angie holds the pillow tighter and tighter and I think it's time to get out of here and go back to my room. Well, or to keep eavesdropping from outside without being seen.

“Wait, Meg! Yes, I'm gonna ask her now.” I stand up and am about to leave, walking backwards and waving bye, but Angie stops me “Will you go and see the guys tomorrow in Portland?”

“Yeah, that's the plan. Grace and Laura are coming too”

“Did you hear that? Meg, Grace and Laura, the perfect trio ready to cheer and throw bras at you”

“Haha I've got very little to throw!”

“No, Eddie, I told you, I can't... Roxy will kill me, it's even a Thursday, the night school nurses finish earlier... I can't take another day off”

I see our little Romeo is impatient. His dreams started to break when he found out Kelly had planned a series of radio promos and interviews right during the two days break between the two Oregon shows and that he'd have to wait before coming back to Settle. Eddie tried to avoid it by explaining that he doesn't really count in Stone and Jeff's band and that they could do the job but apparently it didn't work.

“Come on, I'll see you the day after tomorrow, no big change... Oh shut up, it doesn't change anything... Hahaha no!” I'm still here standing in the middle of Angie's room while she plays arond with that pillow and I'd really want to know what was that last no about but I know my friend will never tell me.

“Say hi to him, ok?” this time I leave for real, yet stopping in the hallway 'cause, as I said, I haven't learned how to mind my own business yet.

“Meg says hi! Anyway I was thinking of something. Hahaha no, not that! I was thinking, if the girl come to see you tomorrow... well, for someone it'll be like losing that famous bet once again... don't you think? Hehehe I have no idea, I don't know Portland, I don't know if there are any 70s discos in town, you should ask Stone. No no, ask him, I'm sure he'd be willing to set one up by himself so he could make fun of the losers! Haha yeah, that'd be a can't-miss event. Oh yeah? Why? Uh sure, my presence would definitely make the difference”

The lovebirds' phone call goes on for a little while, with Eddie probably telling her something sweet and Angie joking about it, maybe because of her natural embarrassment or because she knows exactly I'm right her listening to them. After she ends the call, she dispels my uncertainty.

“Meg!”

I keep my mouth shut.

“Meg? Come on, I know you're there!”

“Uhm? I was going to the bathroom” I magically show up back on the doorway, right in time to be the target of a weak pillow throw.

“Sure...”

“So?” I sit back on her bed, waiting for Angie to finally share something without me trying to forcefully extort information from her.

“Grace is coming with you tommorrow then?” Angie immediately kills all my hopes.

“Yeah, she is”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I called her in the morning and she told me she's in. Why?”

“I don't know, it's just... she doesn't really look like she can't wait to see Stone... does she? Am I wrong? I mean, it sounds strange but...”

“Wait a minute. Angela Pacifico... gossiping?!!”

“Hahaha fuck you, Meg!”

“Who are you? What did you do to my roommate?” I stand up straight, pointing at her with a trembling hand.

“I'm not gossiping, I'm just worrying about a couple of friends”

“Worrying huh?” I pull my arm down and snicker at her.

“Two dear friends I care about. And look cute together. And Grace seemed really into it at the beginning but now... meh... I mean, do you think there's something we don't know?” the new gossip queen is beating around the bush and I decide to play along. Also because one more conversation about Grace is one less about me and my non existent love life.

“Nah, I think it's normal. Grace had a crush and Stone played it cool. Now he doesn't act all cool anymore and she's confused, that's it”

“Stone looks pretty straight forward to me”

“Oh yeah, actually... He reminds me of someone else we know” this time I can't help picking on her but she rolls her eyes and goes on.

“He basically thinks they're a couple already, whereas she kind of shut him off” sure, a kind of behaviour you're really familiar with, right Angie? I don't say it loud this time.

“She will open up tomorrow, trust me”

“I don't want them to suffer, that's all” my friend shrugs and plays with the phone still in her hands. Are you saying this to yourself maybe?

“So... no musk perfume?” I aske her after a while and Angie starts rocking on her chair again.

“Haha no, please!”

“I have to remind Eddie to take one that's fruit scented” I wink at her while she puffs and takes a 360 degrees spin.

“Please...”

“Banana would be perfect”

“MEG!”

“What? What did I say?!”

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

Beer pong. Twenty six years old and I still play beer pong? Well, Kim's thirty and he organizes tournaments of these fucking games. It should console me. Twenty six, a steady relationship, a serious music project, a bank account that allows me to pay my bills without struggling at the end of the month... and I wake up at six in the morning in my bassplayer's bathtub. Fucking back pain! And why the fuck am I still in this shitty condo? I curse as I insist pressing the button to call for the elevator tht will never come. Then I give up to climb up four flights of stairs.

I drag my tired bones up to the door of my apartment but when I put my hand in my pocket looking for the keys the cold metal feeling is replace by total void. I can't fucking believe it. Did Matt have to find himself a girlfriend right now? I quickly feel up all the pockets in my jacket and in my pants, can't find shit and punch the door.

“Fuck” as throw the punch I clearly hear the clink sound of keys and I try and search better but I can't find anything. I punch the door once more and there's the sound again. I start jumping in place like a moron in front of the door and at every jump there's a jingle. I take off my jacket, shake it, same sound. I inspect each and every pocket more attentively and I find something: not the keys but a big hole in the left pocket. Mistery solved! Now I only have to use that little lucidity I've got left to determine the exact position of the keys inside the lining of my jacket and take them out. As I try to take them, I can hear another sound, not metallic but “human”, that catches my attention. A voice, like someone hummig very quietly without words. At first I think maybe it's someone singing while shaving or dressing up, after all it's morning for the rest of the world. But I can clearly hear this voice, although it's faint, and has a little echo that makes me thing the person's already left home. So why am I not seeing anyone passing? I walk through the hallway and I'm still feeling my jacket for the keys when I turn the corner and see him: Vedder, sitting on the floor, well on the mat just outside the girls' apartment, writing on a notebook, with a paperbag on his legs.

“Eddie?” I call him 'cause he doesn't seem to notice me.

“Oh, hey, hi Chris” Eddie stops writing and says hi, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“What are you doing here? Aren't you on tour?”

“It's over! I mean, technically it ends on 3rd March but since the last three shows are here in Seattle we're basically done. I mean, we're done touring. Away” Eddie calmly explains, clicking his pen and putting it inside the notebook, then putting it all in the inside pocket of his jacket. As he does this, I can see his t-shirt: a white one with Air love bone written on it and the silhouette of a long haired basket player looking more like Jeff rather than Jordan. I've got one of those t-shirts too but mine is dark blue.

“Aren't you supposed to play in Oregon?”

“We were, we played in Portland last night. Small crowd but good atmosphere, great show” Eddie nods at himself and doesn't get up.

“Did you play yesterday? And when did you get back?”

“What time is it now? Uh half past seven. Well, a few hours ago”

“Hehe so you guys jumped on the van and dashed back home right after the show, right? You couldn't wait huh?” I guess he was especially looking forward to it. It's not like Eddie has ever told me anything about this stuff, I'm neither his confidant nor Jeff. But maybe I'm one of those, together with Ament and a few other people, who knows him a little better. Anyway it doesn't take a genius to figure out that if you're here outside a girl's door instead of at home in your bed to sleep the tour off, well, there's something big going on.

“Well, ehm, I don't know about this... I mean, don't know what the others did, I... I came back by myself” for a second Eddie loses his apparent composure.

“By yourself?”

“Yeah”

“How?”

“Hitchhiking” he replies raising his thumb.

“Hitchhiking?”

“Yes”

“You mean, you dropped everything and said I'm out of here, bye and hitchhiked to Seattle?”

“Village People inspired me”

“Uh?”

“Do you want to spend the night? Do you know the song?”

“Are you fucking high, Ed?”

At that point he explains it's about one of the infamous bets of Stone and Jeff and that part of our friends performed in the Melody Ballroom's parking lot. I know the place. I played that venue and I even saw Fugazi there. It's always made me smile thinking that they also do wedding and high school dances in that place. Well, congrats to the owner's versatility and open mindness.

“And at some point I thought: what the fuck am I doing here? And I asked some guys I already saw at some of our shows here if they could give me a ride” the reason he had this sudden realisation is right on the other side of that door, we both know, but none of us feels the need to point it out.

“And why did it take you so long?”

“Well, not that long...”

“How long have you been sitting on that fucking mat?” I ask when I finally find my fucking keys and try to fish them out.

“No, well, I've been here for an hour. Maybe two”

“And why?”

“Because it was too early”

“So fans dropped you here and then you noticed it was too early?”

“No, they didn't drop me here”

“And where?”

“At Pike Place” he answers like it's obvious and I'm stupid for asking.

“Pike Place” I nod and repeat, going along with him as you do with crazy people.

“I had to buy something” he adds grabbing the paper bag and putting it aside on the floor on his left side.

“But isn't it closed?” I ask skeptical.

“Bakeries open early”

“Ah” playing along, yeah, that's the best strategy.

“I had a coffee, something to eat, bought something for Angie, then came here”

“Hitchhiking?”

“Hahaha what? No, by street car!” once again he replies as if I'm the dork and maybe he's not entirely wrong.

“I came here and when I was about to ring the doorbell I realised it was like five o' clock in the morning”

“As another Village People's song says”

“Uhm, yeah... but what's that got to do with this?” he asks serious all of a sudden with a straight face and I basically burst out laughing at his face. With Eddie you never know if he's being serious or he's making fun of you and that's something I like in people. He surely must have understood I'm not exactly sane either, I think he learnt that the first time I took him out for a drink. Or when I showed up at the mini market and took him away after his shift ended, telling him I'd show him how local rockstars spend their friday nights. And we spent the night drinking beer and chasing my dogs, well Susan's dogs actually, in the woods.

“Hahaha nothing! So you parked your butt on that mat, right?”

“Yeah...” he answers, still confused “waiting for a more decent timing”

“Well, come on, half past seven seems acceptable” I walk up to him and try to ring the doorbell but Eddie stops me grabbing my wrist.

“No!”

“Why not?”

“I haven't heard any sounds, she hasn't waken up yet. I'll wait until she gets up” I back up and picture Eddie putting his ear against the door waiting for the sound of the microwave blip or the toilet flush and I laugh my ass off, internally. Don't wanna hurt the guy”

“What about your stuff?”

“What stuff?”

“Your things, your bags”

“Oh I only had a backpack, it's on the van. Jeff will bring it to me, I think”

“You think?”

“Well, I think so”

“But... did you tell your bandmates you were going back home?”

“Mmm... wait... oh yes, I told Mike” oh well, in that case, you really got nothing to worry about.

“Was he sober when you told him?”

“It looked like...” while Eddie begins describing Mike's state during last night's aftershow, the door he was leaning his back against abruptly opens and he falls dead weight backwards. I figure out he's still alive when he finishes the sentence from Angie's apartment's floor “... he was... yes!”

“What the fu... Eddie? Chris?” the girl gives each one of us a confused look, as she ties the belt of her pink robe.

“Hi sweetie! I found this on your doormat. No name tag but he looks well fed” I joke while Eddie's still lying on the floor.

“Hi Angie!” he exclaims enthusiastically as he looks her up in all her... sugarcandyness? Does it exist? D'uh...

“Eddie! What are you doing on the floor, get up” Angie offers him her hand and he gladly accepts, he takes her hand and grabs the doorknob and gets up.

“I fell” haha yeah, it's pretty evident you fell for that chick, you jerk.

“Did you get hurt?” she asks perplexed.

“Nah”

“He didn't hit his head, that's just his natual self, trust me. Hey Eddie, be careful” I warn him pointing at the paper bag he's almost trampling on.

“Oh fuck, thanks Chris” he takes the bag and holds it like it was a newborn baby to cradle.

“What's that?” she asks, more and more puzzled, also because she must have just got up and as first activity of the day she has to deal with two assholes.

“Breakfast!” Vedder replies, all smug and pleased with himself.

“Oh... thank you... well, let's have breakfast” Angie points back to the inside of her apartment and I guess it's time to get out of here now, considering I also found my fucking keys.

“See ya then, ok?”

“Aren't you having breakfast with us?” she asks so innocently. Eddie's look is enough for me to find the right answer.

“No, thank you sweetie, I'm too tired. And just the idea of eating or drinking something right now makes my stomach cry”

“Mmh, ok, see you later then”

“Bye Chris!” Eddie disappears into her apartment.

“Good night guys... I mean, good morning... well, you got the idea”

“Night Chris”

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

“What the hell were you doing out here chatting? I heard noises and-” I close the door after I make sure Chris can walk straight enough to get to his apartment and as soon as I turn around I'm swept away by Eddie who engulfs me in a hug and corners me against the door.

“Sorry if we woke you up”

“N-no, but no! I... was already awake”

“I missed you”

“Oh, ehm, I missed you too” I reply and I really hope the mouthwash I used last night really has prolonged action as the label claims because Eddie's basically breathing against my lips, rubbing his nose against mine.

“So fuckin' much...” he's getting closer and I don't know where to look, if I should look, if I should close my eyes, kiss him, wait for him to kiss me, if I should just keep my mouth shut and enjoy the moment.

But I am keeping my mouth shut...

Well, you should shut up in your mind too, you idiot!

But not thinking... it's impossible. Even thinking about not thinking... it's a thought after all, isn't it?

But why are you coming up with this shit while Eddie's torturing you so sweetly? And your hands? Where the fuck did you put your hands?

Wait, I've got them... just... hanging, mid air, I'm basically hugging him with my elbows.

With your elbows? What the fuck, are you a mechanic? Not touching people with your hands dirty with grease?! You look like the young sheperd in nonna's presepe, the marvelled one, with his hands thrown up in the air.

I manage to interrupt the inner quarrel with myself for a moment and place my hands on Eddie's shoulders. He must perceive it as a green lights signal and kisses me.

Dave Gahan is nowhere to be seen or heard and the same goes for his bandmates, uncle Tome Jones doesn't show up, no Sonny, no Cher, nobody. For a minute there I almost feel like an adult, at least until I hear castanets clanking and Phil Spector literally throws the Crystals trio on stage unceremoniously.

He kissed me in a way that I've never been kissed before

He kissed me in a way that I wanna be kissed forever more

The concert doesn't end when Eddie pulls away for a second and looks at me in the eyes, as if he was searching for something. Maybe he's trying to understand if I'm on this planet or not and he already knows there'll be no point asking me directly. I don't know what kind of answer he finds but he must like it because he smiles, perfectly showing his fucking dimples... as if I needed other stimulation! And he kisses me again. This time it's small kisses slowly going from my lips to my cheek, then down towards the neck. One of his hands moves up along my hips, it may or may not, maybe I dreamt it, brush against my left boob. He tickles my arms even through a pretty thick layer of fleece, caresses my face and buries his hand into my hair, while his neck kisses turn into bites.

I gotta do something.

But I don't want to!

But you have to, can't you see you're panicking? Do you wanna wait until your head starts spinning, you see white dots and then you pass out like a loser?

It's so delightful though.

And what if he wants to do something more delightful?

I wish...

God, Angie, pull yourself together!

“What's in the bag?” I manage to snap out of it.

“Uhm?” he mumbles still nibbling on my neck and nape.

“In the bag you brought...”

“I told you... earlier... breakfast” he replies following the same trail as before but backwards, between kisses.

“That is?”

“Croissants” he reveals before planting a kiss on my nose.

“Custard cream?” I ask, suddenly very interested and for real, not just as an excuse to break this pleasurable moment.

“And chocolate” he nods deliciously, almost in a childish way “I took them very early this morning, for you, as soon as I arrived”

“By the way, when did you arrive?”

“Early” and he tells me about his hitchhiking and the different stops and everything that led him here to my place. And I'm still one with the door, crushed against it. And against Eddie, who doesn't show any intentions to let go of me. He did all that... for me? To see me a few hours earlier than we planned?

Well he must have problems if he hitchhikes with strangers at night only to see you with sleep in your eyes, still unshowered, your teeth unbrushed and your hair pinned up messily.

“Need to be warmed up then...”

“What?”

“Croissants, they must be cold now”

“Uh! Hehe well, yeah...” why is he blushing? But most of all, how many hands does he have? Theoretically he has one still in my half up half down hair and the other one on my left hip, but I feel his touch everywhere.

“Have breakfast now? I have to be in class in like one hour” I try and come back to my senses.

“Oh... do you really have to?” and do you really have to look at me like that?

“Huh... yeah, the monographic course about Renoir's waiting for me. And today the professor is gonna explain the passage from silent to sound movies, that is a very important part, which is gonna be in the exam too, so...”

“Ok” he lets go of me but takes me by the hand and leads me into the kitchen, where I spot the paper bag on the table. I was just wondering where he put it.

No, not true, you weren't wondering, you werent' thinking about the fucking bag at all.

Ok, can we just stop! Can we just shut up and stop quarrelling here? I'm trying to remain conscious and not to miss a second of this thing. And it's breakfast time now.

Eddie's hands are on my shoulders as I take the envelope out of the bag, I quickly open it and soon find out he bought like a ton of inviting croissants.

“Is this breakfast for the whole neighborhood?” I giggle.

“No, just for us” the grip on my shoulders gets tighter and a quick scorching kiss is planted on my cheek.

“I'm gonna warm four of them, ok?”

Eddie doesn't say anything, he just kisses me on the other cheek and I don't know if I'll make it to see La Chienne.

“Are you microwaving them?” he demands as I put the plate into the small oven.

“Yeah, but for a very short time or they... ehm, or they'll get too hard... like unedible rocks” just like me, stiffening all up like a board for kisses, caresses and hugs. Like this one, the tight hug from behind, with Eddie's curls tickling my neck.

“I trust you” he whispers into my ear.

I don't, I don't trust you at all, because you clearly want me dead.

When the croissants are ready I take the steamy plate our of the microwave and basically storm out of the kitchen and reach for the couch in the living room, placing our breakfast on the coffee table, thinking I'll be safe now. Safe from what? No idea. But it's just like jumping from the frying pan into the fire because Eddie walks up, leans on me and kisses me again, with resolution, before even touching the couch sitting beside me. His determination is put into practice as he literally throws himself on me and, as expected, I think I've just got into rigid corpse mode because Eddie pulls away almost immediately.

“Are you alright?”

“Huh? Yeah”

“Is there something wrong?”

“No, why?”

“Are you sure? You look... strange” he goes on with his inquiring ocean blue eyes that I'm looking up to and that look even deeper from such a close priviledged position.

“No, it's just... well, it's late and-”

“Too much?”

“Well, not too late but...”

“No, I mean... me... what I'm doing... Too much? Too fast?”

“NO!” I basically yell at his face so loud that I almost mess his hair. A devilish grin appears on his face and at this point I'm sure he totally knows the effect he has on me “Ehm no, it's not that, it's just... I really have class and I can't...”

“You're perfectly right, I'm sorry.” Eddie gives me a tiny little kiss on the lips that leaves me wanting ten thousand more just now and sits back down “And croissants are getting cold, that'd be a pity” he adds with a dimpled smile as he takes one with custard cream.

What about me? No, I definitely don't run the croissants' risk.