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josiebelladonna · 1 year

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paraselenae | their eyes were watching god

pairing: will duvall x fem!oc (the apple shed)

genre: smut, western au

fandoms: motley crue, alice in chains, testament

*18+ only; minors dni*

Warnings: mutual masturbation, doggy style, barns and barnyards, slight commentary

*Please note that you are responsible for your own media consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you or make you uncomfortable, please do not read!*

Summary: adrienne comes for a visit to vince’s farm in the hills overlooking chico in hopes to get a better feel of the property, only to uncover rather torrid feelings about his black farm hand

Word Count: 5274

Notes: the apple shed is meant to be satire, poking fun at those hallmark movies you see around christmas time (as it involves vince, a christian, alex, a jewish man, and will, a black man for kwanzaa), as well as erotic fanfic. it is not meant to offend or be preachy or anything like that but enjoyed and perhaps it can stretch your brain a bit. but i have to put this disclaimer here because i just know for a fact someone will take it the wrong way.

in the meantime, welcome to fuckuary! also on ao3 as “paraselenae” under my main name of josiebelladonna 😮‍💨

It was my second visit to the farm in the hills that overlooked that cozy corner of the Central Valley, and I had my eye set on those two farm boys. They both eluded me the first time I had come there, mainly because Vincent was such a gracious sweetheart to me, but then again, I had difficulty in finding the time to get to know the two of them. They romped about the property, with the apples in the orchard and the horses, and the times in which I did get to see them were at dinner or through passing around the property.

I had made a promise to myself on my way back home to L.A. via the plane ride that I would get to know those two boys on a closer level. I had found my way into them through Vincent’s account, but I needed the truth and the real story about them firsthand, however. I couldn’t stop thinking about those two boys, and in particular as to why they seemed so distant in comparison to both me and Vincent, especially since he said “mí casa es su casa” to them, and he had all but made them his family as well. As I peered out the plane window, I flashed back on Alex’s bright blue eyes, as blue as the sky over the top of the plane as well as the vast pocket of royal blue in the mountains down below us, that rich royal blue patch over the glimmering jewel of Carson City that was Lake Tahoe. I lowered my gaze to the snow-capped mountain summits below us, and I thought of William and that beautiful dark skin of his.

I thought of their bodies, and I closed my eyes all the while.

The two of them, so distant and yet therein resided a special secret labyrinth within them. I needed to know what resided within them, and I would have to begin from the dark earth below my feet first.

On my next trip up there, and from what Vincent had told me over the phone, it was right at the start of the harvest season for apples no less, I took the train through the valley to Sacramento and then I followed it up with the bus from the station up to Chico. During those couple of weeks, I had kept things going at school, and yet, I couldn’t stop thinking about those two boys.

If anything, I thought more about them than Vincent, whom I had initially gone up to the farm for in the first place. When he called me after school one evening, I barely said more than a handful of words to them. There was one spot on my ceiling that resembled one of the curls on the front of William’s head, right over the top of the window, and every so often, I took a glimpse up there and I pictured him there with me, right there next to me on the edge of my bed.

I wanted to care for the two of them: I didn’t care if they had nowhere to go and if things would be a bit crowded in my apartment. I needed them with me, and I needed to help them gather themselves. As far as I knew, they both struggled, especially William because Vincent had no idea as to where he even came from before then.

It was like an itch I couldn’t exactly scratch, and the fact that I was doing a great deal of traveling for such a short duration of time felt all the more daunting the more that I thought about it, especially when I knew my workload grew progressively heavier and heavier with the passage of time. No way I could travel up there all that often, but there was nothing and no one in L.A. to give me the same feeling as them.

I needed them. I needed them like how I needed soft touch against my own skin.

The day before I left, I lay in bed with my arms held out on either side of my body and I kept my gaze fixated on the ceiling over me. There was that spot in the wall again, right by the top of the window, fixed in the shape of a corkscrew.

I thought about Alex, and that long lush black hair about his head. From what I recalled, he had rather thick curls himself, and they billowed about his shoulders like the thick, luscious mane of a young lion. Those rich royal blue eyes in all their depth, as blue and hypnotic as the tides that swept across the surface of Lake Tahoe or the Pacific Ocean.

It was as if he had seduced me from the side of the driveway, and he had not even intended to do such a thing.

I closed my eyes, and I thought about his body in particular.

From what I recalled, he had a very beautiful body, very tall and slender with those lithe hands and fingers, perfect for a touch and a few more sweet caresses on my own skin. The few times I passed him in the farmhouse, I caught a glimpse of his lips, in all their fullness and softness, a pair of ripe little cherries all for me. I thought of caressing his little lips when I saw him again at the farm.

To kiss those lips. To feel his body.

I had no toys on hand, but I did have the power of my own fingers, however.

I spread my legs and reached down for a touch. I started out with a touch on the denim given I still had my pants on, but I nibbled on my bottom lip and unzipped, and tugged my jeans down onto my thighs. I slipped one finger into the hood, right upon that little nub that was my clit.

The softest touch sent a shiver up my spine and immediately sent my heart into a frenzy. It was so easy for me to cum.

I pictured his body pressed up against my own, that slender little chest pressed up to my shoulder and that svelte slim tummy at my hip. His lithe little body against my own plush flesh. His hands on me.

I yearned to hear his voice in my own ear. He never said a word during dinnertime the nights I was there, and thus, I was curious about his voice. William had this smooth low tone, like a fine glass of red wine. But Alex seemed so cute and sweet, especially whenever I caught him looking over at me while he took a bite of food or sipped on his apple cider. There was something behind those blue eyes, something vast and secret.

I touched that little nub of nerves within my hood with the smallest swipe of my index finger and my thumb, and I let out a gasp as I pictured Alex right on top of my body. No way he could fuck me right then and there, but I pictured his leg hooked around my hip and my thigh, and his chest upon my own. I needed to feel him: there had to be a way to him when I went up there in the train again, but how?

And no way could I imagine a plan right then, especially as I came right there in my own hand: I let out a mellow gasp, followed by a low moan from the back of my throat. My heart pounded in my chest, and I breathed harder and harder, as if I had just been running a marathon of sorts up to that point. I refused to open my eyes, however: I wanted to lay there forever with Alex on top of me. He ran his fingers down to the front of my throat.

Alex shot out the tip of his tongue at me as if he mocked me for coming with such ease, and then he licked the side of my neck, from the base all the way up the side to the base of my jaw.

And that was when I opened my eyes, and I realized he wasn’t there.

And yet, he still made me cum twice in my own fingers. I raised my hand out of my underwear for a look at my fingertips.

If only he could make me do that in person once I made my way up there.

That next day, right before sunrise, I boarded the train out of L.A.: it would take me along the coastline up to the Bay Area and then I would have to take a bus across the northern end of the Central Valley over to Chico: it was a new adventure for me, riding up that railway solo. All the while, I had brought a little journal with me, one about the size of my palm and bound in black leather. I was prepared to write out all the things that I wanted to say to Alex when I saw him there at the farm, and yet, even as we launched out of the utterly stunning work of art that was Grand Central Station, I could scarcely bring myself to write them out for my own taking. I flashed back to the night before and the fantasy of his tongue on my neck and those deep blue eyes seducing me whilst covered in shadow.

Oh, what a handsome, sensual boy. And yet, I couldn’t think of the right words.

Then again, it was still early, and they hadn’t brought out the coffee in the parlor car yet. It made no sense as it was so natural and so real the night before. I gazed out the window across the aisle from me to the rolling tops of the buildings against the fading darkness, and then I turned my head to the left for a full view of the ocean tides, which rose high up with the rising sun.

The ocean. Alex’s blue eyes, as rich and blue as the lake, and as the Pacific Ocean.

If only I could translate everything that I felt about him, everything that I fantasized about him, onto paper and without sounding desperate towards him.

I needed a distraction of sorts. I also brought one of my weather journals and my meteorology textbook with me: it wasn’t like I had nothing to do on that train ride, but I kept that image of Alex in the corner of my mind, all the way up the coast through Ventura and alongside the Pacific Coast Highway to Santa Barbara, and then up into San Luis Obispo and the narrow valley between the Central Valley and the ocean up to Paso Robles and onto the Monterey Peninsula followed by that little crescent-shaped bay, about a hundred miles due south of San Francisco: the whole ride up we had a thick marine layer over the sky, a proverbial blanket as if Mother Nature wanted me to cozy next to Alex at the farm when Vincent had his back turned.

I was certain that Vincent was the one for me, and yet, I couldn’t help but feel that he served merely as the gatekeeper. When I thought about it as we snaked through the lush green hills outside of Monterey, I wondered if he really had any idea whatsoever about my inclinations to his farm boys. He seemed like such a stud, one who could take any girl he wanted back home to the farm with him for a good time whenever he visited Los Angeles and the Bay Area, but he had forgotten one small thing and that was me, the first girl that he had brought back home with him.

Thus, was the notch in the proverbial armor. I peered out the window to those rich blue bay waters: the marine layer persisted, but the sun hung over the hills just prior to high noon in a thin veil of gray haze. It all reminded me of Alex, from the blue waters to the fact that he had that little gray plume at the front of his head. The boy shone like the sun, the brightest rays over the crest of the hills, while his face was as round as the full moon against the blackest sky.

While William reminded me of the gentleness and the power of the earth, Alex had me looking up to the sky overhead. The sky and the ocean. None of us would exist without either one.

We reached the Bay Area within an hour, and I boarded the bus that would take me back home to the station in Chico and then Vincent picked me up there and took me back to the farmhouse.

His long blond hair shone in the California sunshine, and he cracked a smile as the bus lumbered up to the grated stop. I stepped off with my bags slung over my shoulder and upon my back. With a kiss hello and helping me bring my things into his truck, he whisked me away to the hills and the farm itself. All the while, I almost felt as though I was imposing on them, simply because they did the farm work and I only traveled up to visit: there had to be more for me to do there than just hang out and do very little, except with the work that I had with my journals.

And yet, it all to me in a whirlwind and a flash of sorts once we reached the house.

Will had invited me out to the barn for the night after dinner, and yet he never fully explained as to what he had in mind for me out there. The way that he had said it to me reminded me of the times in which I had overheard some secrets in the classroom growing up, and they had piqued my interest: he whispered it to me when we were in the kitchen doing dishes together, and Alex had gone into the back of the house for something.

While in the kitchen, he lowered his eyelids at me, and the pearly whites of his eyes further accentuated themselves at me: his dark skin, so smooth and tender, like the finest heaviest wood straight from the darkest corner of the forest in the heart of the volcanic valleys due north of us; the kinks of his hair, so tightly coiled and lush, as if they beckoned the caress of my fingers right then and there. I thought about that spot on my wall by the window in the shape of a corkscrew: it was as if he had called me over to him through the back of my own mind, as if I had overlooked him for the sake of lying next to Alex.

“What’re you doing?” I asked him in a near whisper. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he moved in closer to the side of my face, as if he was absorbing the smell of soap on my neck.

“I was hoping to see you again at some point,” he breathed right into my ear. “Meet me out there in the barn about an hour after we eat. Come alone, too.” He then opened his eyes and flashed me a wink before he stepped away from me.

I watched him leave the kitchen and a wave of warmth swept over me, as warm as the sun outside of the house. It would only be a few more hours, especially since dinner would be ready before the sun had set behind the other side of the valley out there.

It wasn’t until our dinner of freshly cooked vegetables, pork and beans, and bread freshly baked in the bread oven in the rustic, warm dining room over the course of the week when I could brush my elbows with Alex again. He leaned back in the chair next to me with his free hand rested upon the table next to his plate, and those bright blue eyes fixed on the edge of the plate: every so often, he raised his gaze over to me for a quick moment, and then he looked back down to his food before him. I looked over at him and the crown of his head and that little plume of gray over his forehead: it was like a little tuft of cirrus clouds against the blackness of his head, as cool and delicate as anything in the sky before a rainstorm.

Every so often, whenever Vincent and I spoke with each other, I would catch him looking over at me with his lips parted ever so slightly and his eyes big like a pair of marbles: on the other side of the table, I noticed William with his eyes on me as well. These two farm boys, on either side of the table across from me and Vincent, stayed silent with their eyes fixed onto me.

I could feel the tension there between me and the two of them, and I wished I had something sharp to slice right through it to break through to either of them, only to make a choice between the two of them. All the while, there was Vincent to the right of me: I was surrounded. Me, of all people in the world, of all the girls, surrounded by three boys: they chose me.

And this was about to reach a head when I told Vincent as to what William had told me when I showed up there at the house. I helped him clear the table and clean some dishes, and then I watched William head out there to the barnyard through the side door.

“Wonder what he’s doing,” Vincent wondered aloud as he dried his hands.

“He wants me to come out there with him for—something,” I replied as I tugged on the hem of my shirt.

“What’s going on out there?” he asked me with a sly smile upon his face.

“Oh, nothing. He just asked me to help him out there quick after the sun goes down.”

“Out in the barn? You know there’s no lighting out there, right?”

“He has a lantern,” I pointed out. “Whatever he has in mind, I'll see it. I also wanna do more around here. You know—help out a little and whatnot.”

Vincent squinted his eyes at me.

“That is so kind of you, Adrienne, babe. We’ll have s’mores tonight, though, okay? Alex and I'll light a fire in the stove and we’ll roast those big marshmallows together, all four of us.”

“Sounds good,” I said with a wink.

“Now, run along, you little scamp.”

Whatever William held in store for me, I was eager to find out. This wasn’t anything I could put in my weather journal or anything else: I had to know. I sought out the answers like a science student, and once Vincent’s back was turned, I bowed out of the farmhouse with the final rays of sunlight at the crown of my head to light my way across the dirt and gravel to the doors of the barn on the far side of the pasture. Indeed, there was William by the barn doors with a wrought iron hurricane lantern in hand.

A new round of nightfall fell over us about as quickly as it had left, and I was eager to be there once he lit up the lantern and the amber glow of the flame washed over his oval face and his dark skin: it almost looked as though his skin was made of gold, complete with a fine layer of dark patina to accentuate it.

“Are you with me now?” he asked me once I came within earshot: he spoke with a voice so smooth and husky.

“I am,” I proclaimed with a dash of spirit, and he gestured for me to follow him in through the barn doors. He raised the lantern up to the main part of the barn, followed by the rafters up in the ceiling and on the wall across from us. I closed the barn door behind me, and he held up the lantern in between us: the light shone over the full curvature of my body, and I tucked my thumbs into my jean pockets just to drive him crazy with my curves.

“So, how do you want to do this?” he asked me in a hushed voice and with a clearing of his throat.

“How do I want to do this? Hey, you invited me out here, little Willie.”

“Little Willie? Is that what you called me?” He let out a hearty chuckle at that, and then he brought the lantern in the direction of the rafters and the other side of the barn: I followed his gaze, and I saw the strands of hay in the second level across the floor there. Even from there, I could tell there was quite a bit of hay up there: I lowered my gaze to the far-right side of the floor and lo, behold, there was in fact a ladder that led up to the second level of the barn. “Would you like to take a roll in the hay?”

“Roll in the hay, where?” I joked with him, and he chuckled and nearly dropped the lantern all the while. Lucky for the both of us, it was an electric lantern rather than a gas-powered one.

With the light at my back, I led him over to the ladder, and I climbed up there first.

I nearly fell headfirst into the pillows of hay, but I caught myself on the edge of the hard wood that kept it all in place up there. I crawled through the hay until I found a spot dead center of it all, and I rolled over onto my back: the bottom hem of my shirt rolled up my body and exposed my belly to him. He set the lantern down on the bare wood right next to me, and he remained upon his knees: from that alone, he looked as though he was towering over me.

“Let’s get this party started, shall we?” he offered me in a hushed voice. Through the golden light, I watched him lean back a bit: he brought his hands to the zipper and gave it a gentle tug down. I hoisted myself up onto my elbows as soon as he dropped his pants and showed off his long, large black dick to me. The amber light of the lantern shone over his skin, in all its smoothness and softness: he really did look as though he had been crafted out of the finest gold there was there in the California mountains. We weren’t too far away from where the Gold Rush initially began in the 1840s, after all.

“I ain’t little,” he assured me with a little shake of his head: his tight curls wiggled a bit around the crown of his head, and he showed me another sly little smile.

“Whoa.” I raised my eyebrows at the sight before me.

“Yeah, it’s the real thing.

“My—My goodness.” I pressed a hand to my chest. Granted, this was the first time I had ever seen one exposed all for me in my life, but I swore that it was going to be the biggest dick I had ever seen in my life, should I ever see any more dicks.

“You can touch me if you want,” he told me. “Get me going. If you get me going, I'll get you going as well.”

“Would you?” I begged.

“Absolutely. Where do you like to touch yourself?”

“My clit and my nipples,” I said; I sat up and I peeled off my top and set it aside. Without further hesitation, I unhooked my bra, and I let the cups slide off my breasts and the straps fall down my shoulders, all just to titillate him. The golden light of the lantern washed over my own skin: though I lacked the smooth dark beauty of his flesh, I did have milky white breasts with dark nipples, and the light made it look as though I had gold coins to await him on the next ride over the river. And it worked: I looked over at him, and I noticed he was already moving and firming up a bit. I had to do the deed on my own part, however.

I lay back down on my back and, with my bra on my belly, I reached up for a fondle of my own nipples by the power of my own index fingers. I opened my mouth by a hair’s breadth, and then I locked eyes with him. Out of my peripheral vision, I noticed him reaching down for a touch on his dick.

I lowered my gaze to below his waist, and I caught sight of his index finger caressing along the rim of the hole there at the end. He inched closer to me, so his knees remained right next to my own.

We were touching and masturbating together, right in front of each other. And the more that I thought about it and the fact that it was merely myself and him alone there in the hay bales, there in the rafters, the more I wanted to do it.

“Adrienne? William?” Vincent’s voice floated up from the barn door, and it came about with such haste that William dove forward and landed right next to me. Breathing hard, he held still and kept his gaze on me and his hands on either side of his head as if he was about to pick himself up into a push-up position. “Are you guys alright? You’ve been in there an awful long time.”

“Yeah!” I called out from the rafters, and William flinched from the sudden loudness of my voice.

“Sorry,” I whispered to him.

Silence down below, then the door creaked shut and William and I both let out low sighs of relief.

“That was close,” he told me in a near whisper.

“Yeah, I'll say,” I said. “It’s kind of hot, though.”

“It really is,” he added with a slight raise of an eyebrow. I gave my nipples another caress, and all the while, I kept my lips parted for him. He rolled over onto his side and propped up the side of his head in the palm of his hand.

“Want to take it to the next level?” he offered me.

“And what would that encapsulate?” I asked him in a hoarse voice, even though I had had plenty of water to drink over dinner.

“Since I don’t have any protection, and I have my pants off, do you know how to do it doggy style?”

“That’s when I get down on my hands and knees and—”

“Oh, yeah, you know it.” He flashed me a wink, and I showed him a mischievous grin. All it took was a few touches on my part to get me riled up.

I took off my jeans all the way, and I rolled over onto my hands and knees for him. I shook my ass at him a little bit, and he treated me to a gentle squeeze followed by a light slap on the back of my thigh.

It was a bit difficult given I had never done it like this, or on hard wooden floorboards, or with someone like Vincent right outside of the door, but I relaxed every inch of my body and William held onto my hips. He thrust gently at first, and his erection jammed right into my ass: we had no lubricant on hand, but he still did it even if it was dry and rough at first. I closed my eyes and let out a low whistle as he thrust harder and harder.

It was wild to think that we had touched ourselves in front of each other not even a few minutes before, and yet, we were both set on it. I opened my mouth and let my tongue fall out, the dirty dog I was. I breathed harder as he thrust harder.

Even if it was a bit tricky to get moving at first, there was something about it. Maybe it was the fact that he was sticking his dick right into my ass and it tickled more than touching my own clit, maybe it was the fact that the barn door didn’t close all the way, so I knew Vincent was down there and for all I knew, he was eavesdropping on us, but I started to giggle at the feeling. My heart pounded. I was moist. I was more than moist; I was absolutely wet. My hands slid and slipped across the wood underneath me. I breathed harder and harder, and all the while, I was trying to keep it down so Vincent wouldn’t hear me.

William then leaned over my back and reached underneath my body for a feel of my skin, from the fullest part of my belly as it hung down to the floor up onto my breasts for a feel of my dark nipples. I breathed so hard that I swore that I wouldn’t be able to catch my breath as I came for him right then and there.

He kissed the side of my neck and then he ran his tongue up the side to the base of my jaw.

The only thing that would make this even hotter was if Alex was there next to me to round out a menage a trois.

But I was going to come again for William, nevertheless. And something told me that he was about to blow, as well.

Without a second thought, I lifted my right hand from the hard, dark wood, and I pressed it to the side of his face, and I planted my lips onto his own: I shut my eyes to engulf myself in more darkness, more black gold from the California hills. He thrust a couple more times into my ass, and then he pulled out. I could hear something liquid splashing down right behind me, to which he followed it up with a low moan and a whistle.

I turned my head for a glance back right as he ran his fingers through those tight curls on his head.

“You okay?” I asked him, panting and in a broken voice.

“Phew, never better. Lucky for you and me, Vince barely comes up here, so—he won’t see this little mess I just made here. Watch yourself when you’re rolling over and sitting upright, too—don't really want to get it on your shoes or your jeans.”

Indeed, I was cautious as I moved my right foot back and I rolled over onto my hip, and I gazed back at him and the flustered but euphoric look on his face.

“I hope I’m not too much of a complete pain your ass today,” I blurted out, to which he blinked several times at me, stunned.

“Why would you think that? We love having you up here. Really, Alex and I always look forward to seeing you come along to visit us. I know Vince does, too.”

I showed him a little smile.

“No one knows anything,” he told me.

“Not a soul,” I vowed to him with a wink. “Where’d you put my bra, by the way?”

#fuckuary #fuckuary 2023 #fuckuary '23 #day 1 #the apple shed #will duvall #william duvall #alice in chains #alice in chains fanfiction #vince neil #motley crue #motley crue fic #motley crue fanfiction #smut #alice in chains smut #motley crue smut #also on ao3 #text

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tenderyellowbluefics · 6 months

Note

Hi, could you please do something fluffy-smutty about Jerry Cantrell please and thank you :)

Sickness In Seattle // J.C

Thanks for the request!! I'll be honest I've had this idea for a little bit now and I just didn't have it in me to do smut I'm sorry!! But I'll def do something smutty with him in the future!!

Summary: When y/n wakes up with the flu, it is Jerry's duty to take care of her.

Warnings: None, just fluff!

Requests are open!

Your eyes slowly flutter open, scanning the room of your and Jerry's downtown Seattle apartment. You wince at the light as you start to become aware of the apparent headache you have. You look over at Jerry, still sound asleep. Long blonde hair thrown across his face, his bare upper half seeming to glow in the morning sunlight. You smile softly and swallow, only to wince in pain once more. This time you let out a groan. Apparently, it was louder than you thought as it caused Jerry to stir.

Incoherent mumbles come from him as he pulls you closer to him. And for the first time ever, you detest the feeling of his fingers on your skin. Even your skin feels sore, and the body heat coming from him makes you feel even worse. You try to pull away slightly and pull the covers off of you. This causes Jerry's eyes to shoot open. You’d never pull away from him like this.

"What's wrong?" He asks, his eyebrows furrowing. His voice is deep and raspy, dripping like honey from his mouth. But it’s still not enough to soothe you from the agony you’re in.

"I don't feel good," you mutter, your voice whiney and congested.

He sighs softly and brings the back of his hand to your forehead. "You're burning up."

You groan at his words. "No, I can't be sick." You protest as you try to sit up in bed. But as you do the room seems to spin.

"Woah there," Jerry says with a soft chuckle, sitting up next to you. "Whining won't make it any better."

You shoot him a look and roll your eyes before laying back down with a huff.

"I'm way too busy to be sick right now." You whine, looking up at him with a pout.

"Baby, it won't kill you to take one day to rest." He says softly, letting his right hand trail up your arm soothingly. "How about I go get you some medicine?"

You merely nod, not wanting to talk and inflame your throat any more than it is.

He hops out of bed and pulls on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt before striding over to your side of the bed.

"I'll be right back." He says, leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead.

Upon hearing the front door close you huff once more and roll over on your side. Since the day is ruined you decide it's best to at least get a little more sleep in.

You wake up a little later to Jerry's soft voice saying your name and nudging your side. You flutter open your eyes to see him standing over you.

"It's DayQuil time!" he sings, pulling an orange bottle of medicine out of a plastic bag.

"You really couldn't have gotten me the pill form?" You ask, disgusted at the thought of having to drink medicine.

"You know, thanks would suffice." He jokes.

"Thank you, baby." You say with a small chuckle.

He pours the medicine into the small shot glass-type top before handing it to you to drink.

You shudder slightly, quickly knocking back the medicine and swallowing, scrunching up your face in disgust. Jerry chuckles at this response and hands you a bottle of orange juice he also got at the store to chase it.

"That bad?"

"That bad." You say after taking a drink from the bottle of OJ.

He shakes his head with a laugh before kicking his shoes off and climbing into the bed. You scooch over as close as you can get to him and lay your head on his chest, in desperate need of body heat. The sickness causing your body temperature to fluctuate from being on fire to being ice cold.

He wraps both arms around you, placing his head on yours. He grabs the remote and flicks the TV on before deciding on some random sitcom.

"This is shit television, but I don't plan on being awake much longer anyways." He says with a yawn.

"Don't you have stuff to do today?" You question with a giggle.

"Hey, if you get to take today off so do I!" He chuckles. "No, but in seriousness, I did have stuff to do today, but it can wait; I gotta take care of my baby."

You raise your head up to kiss him on the cheek, earning a small smile from him. You lay your head back down and doze off to the sound of his heartbeat. Selfishly, you kind of hope you're still sick tomorrow so you both can stay home again.

#jerry cantrell x reader #jerry cantrell fanfiction #jerry cantrell #alice in chains #alice in chains imagines #jerry cantrell fluff #jerry cantrell one shot #jerry cantrell imagine #alice in chains x reader #layne staley #sean kinney #mike starr #mike inez

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death-to-posers · 9 months

Text

As promised, here’s that list of people I will/won’t write for, and also my boundaries etc.

Will do:

Smut✅

Angst✅

Fluff✅

Some averagely kinky stuff✅

x reader fics✅

platonic ships & fics✅

sodomy✅

Queer fics (f character x f reader, m character x m reader etc, I will write for non binary readers too. Please specify the gender you want the reader to be when you request or I will default to non binary)✅

Won’t do:

R*pe/Non con❌

Adult x minor ❌ (no weird pedo shit)

Anything that glorifies or sexualises severe domestic abuse❌

Pregnancy fics (I can’t I’m sorry.)❌

Shit kinks💀 (come on now..)❌

Vomit kinks (why.)❌

Foot fetish related stuff❌

Incest❌

furry/zoophile shit❌

vore❌

eating disorder/self harm stuff (I know a lot of people originally used this as a coping mechanism but it eventually evolved into the romanticism of anorexia and self harm and I do not stand for that.)❌

Might do, depends on the request:

Ships between two real people (unless they’re an actual couple I will probably be against this)

People/bands I will write for:

AC/DC (all members)

Alestorm (all members)

Abbath (all members)

Alice In Chains (all members)

Abbath Doom Occulta

Bathory (all members)

Behemoth (all members)

Billy Idol

Björk

Black Sabbath (all members)

Bon Jovi (all members)

Burzum (all members but it’s just Varg so this goes without saying)

Cannibal Corpse (all members)

Carpathian Forest (all members)

Courtney Love

Celtic Frost (all members)

Darkthrone (all members)

Disturbed (all members)

The Doors (all members)

Dream Theater (all members)

Evanescence (all members)

Foo Fighters (all members)

Ghost/Ghost B.C. (all members)

Gloryhammer (all members)

God Seed (all members)

Gojira (all members)

Gorgoroth (all members)

Green Day (all members)

Hanoi Rocks (all members)

Helloween (all members)

Hole (all members)

Immortal (all members)

Iron Maiden (all members)

Joan Jett & The Blackhearts (all members)

Judas Priest (all members)

King Ov Hell

KoRn (all members except David Silveria)

Lamb Of God (all members)

Lana Del Rey

Limp Bizkit (all members)

Marilyn Manson/Marilyn Manson & The Spooky Kids (all members)

Mayhem (all members)

Megadeth (all members)

Metallica (all members)

Misfits (all members)

Morbid (all members)

Motörhead (all members)

Murderdolls (all members)

My Chemical Romance (all members except Bob)

Necrobutcher

Nickelback (all members)

Nirvana (all members)

Old Funeral (all members)

Ov Hell (all members)

Ozzy Osbourne

Pantera (all members)

Powerwolf (all members)

Pearl Jam (all members)

Queen (all members)

Rammstein (all members)

Rob Zombie

Repugnant (specifically Mary Goore)

Ronnie James Dio

Rotting Christ (all members)

Sabaton (all members)

Serj Tankian

Sirenia (all members)

Slaughter To Prevail (all members)

Slayer (all members)

System Of A Down (all members)

Type O Negative (all members)

Twisted Sister (all members)

Tool (all members)

Varg Vikernes

If there are any members I’ve excluded it is most likely because I fucking hate them. If you submit a request for someone and I refuse to do it then it’s either because: it makes me uncomfortable to write for said person especially if it’s smut, I don’t know enough about them to write a fic or I hate them. It’ll probably be one of those three reasons so please understand and respect that. If there’s someone/a band not on this list or the “won’t do” list, it doesn’t necessarily mean I won’t do them. I might have simply forgotten to add them so please ask.

I will also write for certain non-musicians such as historical figures and/or fictional characters. Give me a shout in requests and I may or may not be willing to write for them. As an example, I will write for Manfred and Lothar von Richthofen. Not musicians but I adore them.

People/bands I will NOT write for:

Any kpop bands.

Any actors/actresses

Deftones (there’s no negotiation. I will not write for Deftones. End of discussion.)

Blink-182 (same as Deftones)

Falling In Reverse (Same reason as Deftones)

Yungblud (come on now. Be serious. Be so for real.)

Panic! At The Disco (fuck no.)

The Beatles (no.)

Mötley Crüe (no❤️)

Tokio Hotel (nothing against them but no thanks)

One Direction (come on.)

C*rey Taylor/most of Slipknot. (I will write for Joey and Jay though, my pookies)

Mindless Self Indulgence (foul ass band I despise all of the members)

And when I said I won’t write a romantic fic between two real people I meant it. Platonic is more than okay, we love some platonic bandmate fluff but beyond that is a fat no unless they’re actually married/dating. So it goes without saying that I will NOT write Davisdurst, don’t even start. Do not.

- 𐕣𝕶𝖆𝖘𝖘𝖎𐕣

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jarofalicesgrunge · 2 years

Text

Love, Hate, Love - Live at the Moore ♡

#my favorite band #my fanfiction #love hate love #alice in chains #layne staley #grunge #rock #90s #Metal #AIC #Live

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feverinfeveroutfic · 4 days

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the skeleton key | chapter six: sweet nothin’

“Okay, but promise me that you won’t tell anyone about this.”

It was my lunch break and Alex had gone off elsewhere after our little rendezvous, and I knew in my heart of hearts that I could not hold any of that in. I had to tell someone, and it had to be Marcy, who gazed on at me with utmost intent. She held her lunchtime cup of coffee in between her hands, and she held her face closer to my own as if she wanted this to be the secret of a lifetime.

In a way, it was the secret of a lifetime. I had a moment with Alex in the back room of the bakery. I had a moment with him and yet I had no idea as to how to break it to her, especially since we weren’t technically alone there in the courtyard outside of the bakery. People could overhear us if they were willing.

“How do I put this,” I muttered aloud.

“Just say it,” Marcy insisted with a shrug of her shoulders. She held the cup of coffee down upon her knees, and all I could think about was how Alex touched me back there. It had been a couple of hours since then, and yet I could still feel him. I could still taste him on my lips and hear him in my ears.

So many things that I wanted to say. So many ways in which I wanted to phrase it.

“We had…” I cleared my throat. “…breakfast.”

“Breakfast?”

“Yes. You know.” I showed her the tip of my tongue, and then I gave my hair a slight toss back with the flick of my head.

“Breakfast.”

Her eyes wandered off to the side, and I could see her piecing it together. She then raised her eyebrows, the result of her having figured it out faster than I had initially thought.

“When?”

“Before you showed up. We were in the kitchen.”

Marcy sipped on her coffee, and then she leaned in even closer to me.

“How?” she asked in a hushed whisper.

“How? How what?”

“How did you do that without anyone hearing or seeing you?”

“I’m not sure. Add to that, it just sort of… happened.”

She nibbled on her bottom lip as her eyes scanned over me. If only I knew what she was thinking right at that moment.

“What was it like?”

“Interesting. He was sweet and wanted to please me, but we were in the kitchen, though. I worried about us making too much noise or getting caught up in a cloud of flour.”

“You know, it’s the damnedest thing: I actually think about the two of you dancing on the back of a cloud of flour from time to time.” She sipped on her coffee again, and the mere sight of it made me think of him yet again.

“He apparently has a girlfriend,” I said to her.

“And you slept with him?” She raised her eyebrows at that.

“Yeah.” I paused for a second. “I actually don’t regret it in the least, either. Like… if it was with someone else, I probably wouldn’t have done anything and asked them to leave, but with Alex, it just felt so natural. It felt right, I would say.”

Marcy leaned forward, still with the cup of coffee cradled in between her hands. I could see it in her eyes and her face, the whole thought process of figuring all this out.

“There’s a gap in his heart, Marce. A gap that beckons a certain shape, and I wonder as to how I could fit into it.”

“You do fit into it,” she assured me. “If he’s willing to be with you but reluctant to be with her, then that’s a sign. He won’t commit to her but he feels close to you, though.”

I then shook my head. “I don’t know, now that I really look at you and your face, Marce,” I confessed to her. “You know, in the grand scope of things, I committed adultery.”

“No, he committed adultery. You are merely a role in it. And you are a role in his fighting for himself and his way out of what could be a bad relationship. It kind of makes me want to snoop around on him, and also her, like who is she and what does she do.”

“Big part of me doesn’t want to fuck around with that,” I confessed to her. “I don’t know who she is and I kind of want to just leave it at that.”

“That’s where I come in,” she suggested.

“You?” I was taken aback by that. “Why you?”

“I’m a third party. I’m also hanging out with Eric now, his band mate in his main band who’s known Alex since he was like fifteen.”

“Wow!”

“Yeah. He’s the guy who was at the Stu Hamm gig, the heavyset guy with the long black hair. We just started talking and that was it. He’s like the nicest dude in the world.”

“Nicer than Alex?” I teased her.

“Oh, nobody beats Alex’s sweetness,” she retorted to me with a shake of her head. “But I’ll tell Eric about it and we can think of something together, me and him. I guess he doesn’t like her, either.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. He told me that Alex is lucky to know us, especially you.”

She sipped on her coffee once again, that time a much bigger drink and I knew she was nearing the bottom of the cup.

“Be the key to his heart, Al. The key to his heart and soul. Be something that you couldn’t be for years before.”

I closed my eyes at that. I couldn’t be like this to the two of them, that was for certain. In fact, this all seemed unreal, all of it completely pure fantasy. This all happened so quickly for me, such that I could scarcely think of anything else as to what to do right then. I had a moment with Alex in the kitchen, and right when his girlfriend tried to come in contact with him as well. I never dreamed that I would be involved in an affair before, but there I was, finding myself knee-deep in one of those right at that moment.

But then again, I wondered if it could in fact be worth it. I could be the resident baker for him and the brief tour in a few days’ time.

“You fill his belly and touch his heart,” she explained to me. “Give him the feeling that you give unto him so unbelievably well.”

“If nothing else, I’ll take to the first few dates as well as the ones down here, too. I’ll make things to go with it all, too.” I licked my lips and ran my fingers through my hair, and I turned my attention over to her.

“I need to draw up some things. I’m going to make this boy so thick with pastry cream, that girl won’t know what’ll hit her.”

“When do they go on tour?” she asked me.

“Starting Thursday and it goes all the way to Valentine’s Day,” I replied. “They start in Seattle, too. And they have two dates down here in L.A. So that right there is three days. Three days to get all this shit right.”

“The Metal Allegiance guys wanna drive us there to the Los Angeles dates,” she told me. “And Eric invited us to his place way up in Sacramento, too.”

“Us? You and me?” I raised my eyebrows at that.

“You and me.”

“And I still have to tell Alex if I’m going to join him on the tour with his jazz band.” I sighed through my nose, as the thought of being the other woman left me reeling but also curious as to where it would all go from there. “Three days to get it all right.” I glanced down at my watch. “And I have to get back to work. I’ll call him and tell him the news, and then I’m on my way to Seattle.”

“That’s the Alison Chains I know,” Marcy remarked, and then she stopped dead in her tracks. “But wait, what about Jerry?”

“What about Jerry?” I echoed her. “He won’t be going on tour for months. I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.”

#the skeleton key fanfic #the skeleton key #fanfic #fanfiction #chapter 6 #metal allegiance #oc tag #testament #testament fanfic #testament band #alex skolnick #eric peterson #alice in chains #jerry cantrell #also on ao3 #writing #text

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multirockbands · 1 year

Note

Hello! Could I request a fluffy Layne Staley imagine about what it would be like going to sleep with him. Also I was the one that requested the last Layne imagine, and I loved it. You have a genuine talent for writing.

A/n: Hello! Sorry for getting to this a little late but I would love to do this, I appreciate that you love my writings it means a lot I love writing these, anyways thank you so much and here you go!

A Hard days night •Layne Staley•

Pairing Layne Staleyxfem! reader

Warnings: None!

Summary: Layne comes home from the studio and the reader helps him to bed

*Y/n’s POV*

I was on the couch watching a random show on the television waiting for Layne to come back home from the studio, I sighed and decided to get a glass of water, while I did I looked at the clock revealing the time *1:13 AM* I furrowed my eyes taking a drink of water and walking back to the couch to reveal Layne at the doorway “Layne..” I mumbled he looked up tired “Hi baby” he said walking towards me slowly hugging me, i hugged back running my hands through his hair “how did everything go?” He pulled away from the hug kissing my lips “everything went good” he mumbled tiredly I laughed at his actions gently walking him to the room “here let’s get ready for bed” he nodded following behind, I opened the door and walked towards the nightstand next to his side I grabbed some clothes for him to change, I turned around to see layne throw himself on the bed I laughed at him and helped him sit up “here let me help you” he was clearly way to tired to even move I took off his shirt and helped him put on a new white shirt then I took off his pants and put on some shorts after this layne threw himself back on the bed I grabbed his clothes and put them in the wash before going back to the room and laying next to layne putting an arm around his waist pulling him closer and laying his head on my chest so I can put my head on top of his, I felt his arm sneak around my waist kissing my neck before mumbling “I love you” I smiled and kissed his head “I love you too” before drifting off to sleep with layne in my arms.

A/n: I really enjoyed this one I’m sorry it’s short but I hope you like it!🖤

#layne staley #jerry cantrell #sean kinney #mike starr #mike inez #alice in chains #grunge #fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #requests #rock #x reader #90s grunge #fluff #hard rock #heavy metal

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aboysbestfriendishismum · 8 months

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Chapter 61 - Shirts, questions and the Fonz with a moustache

In the previous chapter: Jerry goes on his blind date and meets Heather. Surprisingly, she too reveals that she's not interested in meeting guys at the moment. Realizing that they are very similar and in the same situation, she convinces Jerry to pretend that the two of them are dating so as to be left alone by their respective friends. During a question-and-answer game between Stone and Grace, the two discuss how she hasn't let him sleep with her in her bed yet due to her insecurities. In the end Stone manages to calm her down and convince her to take this step with him. Eddie and Angie finally manage to spend an evening together, with pizza and horror movies. Eddie tries again to make her change her mind about Cameron Crowe's film and reveals that for him it's a special occasion: exactly one month has passed since their first kiss. Angie feels guilty because she hadn't thought about the anniversary at all, not being used to this type of things in her past relationships.

***

He fills me up, he gives me love More love than I've ever seen He's all I got, he's all I got in this world But he's all the man that I need

To a casual observer this scene might seem surreal, I must admit. If my life was a TV series and today's episode began with this scene from this morning, as a viewer, a thousand alarm bells would go off for me, ranging from "It's an alternative reality resulting from time travel gone wrong” to “A catastrophe is just about to happen.” Because me, Angie Pacifico, making pancakes on a Wednesday morning, still in my robe despite having class in just over an hour, dancing to the top 100 on the radio and singing (destroying) Whitney Houston is not something you see every day. I actually turned the volume up for Eddie because I suspect that I-never-sleep-I-only-live-at-night-in-san-diego-I-went-surfing-at-the-crack-of-dawn guy has no intention of getting out of bed. This morning I opened my eyes before my killer alarm clock and I promptly deactivated it to let him rest. I took the fastest and quietest shower ever and now I'm here. Since we are always in a rush and don't spend time together regularly, it seemed like a nice thing to prepare a nice breakfast to spoil him a little and be able enjoy a few more minutes together, sitting at a table, talking and joking, rather than sharing the usual quick bye and go each their own way. And I'm also including Meg in this because, with the end of school approaching, the tattoo thing and all the side jobs she's taking on to supplement her income, even having a nice chat with my roommate has become complex. I thought the smell of breakfast and coffee would be enough to give Ed a sweeter good morning than my hated alarm clock, but I was wrong. I pour another big scoop of dough into the pan and smile when I hear the sound of the shower water running, thinking that my melodious chanting has done its duty, but I immediately change my mind when I hear Meg's voice singing along to the chorus of Freedom 90. Well, if I didn't make it, she'll take care of throwing him out of bed with the help of George Michael.

I take the plate with all the pancakes and put it in the center of the table, the bottle of chocolate syrup is already there. Since I don't want to be seen as someone who only eats junk, I decide to also get some yogurt and fruit, which always goes well on pancakes. I head towards the fridge dancing, but not before shouting EVERYBODY DANCE NOW! together with the radio. I stick my head into the fridge and when I back up and close the door I almost have a heart attack and almost project yogurt and berries on to the ceiling.

"EDDIE!"

"Hey," he says to me, leaning against the doorframe, sleepy and smiling.

"WHAT THE FUCK" I leave everything on the table safely and regain color.

"Good morning to you too, kitten"

"Fucking kitten, you appear like this out of nowhere, you scared the fuck out of me!"

"Forgive me, I didn't want to scare you. It's just that… you were all focused on dancing, I couldn't interrupt you" he explains with that adorable stupid face that… nothing, I have class in an hour, I can't think about these things .

“How long have you been there?”

"A little while" he's still standing at the kitchen door. Still standing there in just his boxers and his black and red plaid button down shirt. I repeat, Angie , YOU CAN'T THINK ABOUT THAT NOW.

"You could have found an alternative and gentler way to announce your presence, right?" I go back to the unlit stove and pretend to turn it off, then move to the sink and pretend to fiddle with something else until I feel his hands on my shoulders.

"And miss this show? I'm not that stupid" he kisses my cheek and then rests his chin on my right shoulder.

"The ideal show for a traumatic awakening. Hey, be careful or you'll get burnt, it's still hot" I warn him when I see him reach out for the pan, perhaps to put it to wash.

"I'm already on fire anyway" he puts everything in the sink and then hugs me from behind, leaning on me again.

"Eheheh what?"

“Do you have any idea how sexy you were?” he whispers as his fucking grabby hands do the work.

"Am I sexy in the kitchen? At the stove? In one of the stereotyped roles in which the most vulgar sexism imprisons women?" I turn towards him in an attempt to get him off me, but with little success.

“I actually meant dancing in a robe, but honestly this is even fucking better” very poor considering now he's just grabbed at my ass and his mouth is getting dangerously close to my sweet spot on my neck.

"Oh ok so… years of struggles for women's emancipation reduced to a fetish? Feminism that exists only for the sexual gratification of you, straight white man?"

"Stop it or I'll have to fuck you here and now" he backs away from my neck just long enough to point this thing out in my ear, and then goes back to his actions.

"Eheh, you can't anyway" I push him away perhaps too impulsively, I turn around again and start filling the sink with water and then take the dish detergent.

"Why?" please, Eddie, you're not helping right now.

"Because… because Meg is over there…" and again, his hands on my hips "And then we have to eat and I have to go to class"

"Ok, wait," Eddie turns off the tap, takes my hand and, pushing me into a sort of pirouette, forces me to turn towards him again "point A"

"Haha, you even have points ready first thing in the morning!"

"I was born ready. Point A: Meg is over there, she's not here" first he looks towards the door, then directs his eye back towards me and winks.

"But she can arrive at any moment" I reply, but I'm not as quick to fight against his hands, which start unbuttoning my robe.

"We just need to pay attention when we hear Mariah Carey coming over," he jokes, making fun of the song she's singing now.

"What if we're too distracted?" I close a button, he unbuttons two.

"Point B:" he continues, not caring about my objections, "we can still eat... after..."

"After what?" he just looks up to smile at me, without a word.

"Point C: I'll give you a ride to class so you won't be late" and there go two more buttons.

"But-" I try to protest, not so strongly. He silences me by kissing me, softly, but with a certain firmness, and now my robe is completely open.

"Come on, let's go to your room, five minutes"

"It will never be five minutes, Eddie"

"Wanna bet?" my robe is on the floor and his hands are under my pajama top, threatening to send that flying too. Until a detail belatedly catches my attention.

"Eddie, da-… um, sorry, but what are you wearing?"

"I'm overdressed, right? I'll fix in a sec!" he wiggles his eyebrows like an idiot, starts to take off his shirt, but I stop him.

"No, I mean, don't you see what you've got on? Didn't you notice?" I start laughing and this very moment he start to give in a little and lets go of me. I take the opportunity to pull myself together and retrieve my dressing gown from the floor.

"What is it? Did I put it on backwards?" he looks at his shirt without understanding, and then looks at me, sulkily, when I put my robe back on.

"No, you put it on just right, but it's mine, can't you see?" I reveal by caressing his chest (Jesus!) with the excuse of pointing out the pockets on the front of my checked shirt, very similar to his "Yours doesn't have these"

"Oh shit, in the daze of waking up I must have taken yours instead of mine, they look the same"

"How did you not notice? Can't you see that it's a girl's shirt? The buttons are on the other side" I button up a couple of them and in doing so I notice how comfortable my shirt looks on him. Very comfy. Too comfy. He swims in it. It's obvious he didn't notice, if I was a nice size SMALL or EXTRASMALL he wouldn't be able to fit a single arm in this fucking shirt. But no, he didn't pay attention to it, because his girlfriend is a heavyweight. Well he should have noticed for the opposite reason, that is that he could fit his whole band in that shirt.

"Ah! That's why I couldn't fucking button it up! I felt stupid, for a moment I thought I was stoned or was having an aneurysm or something hahaha"

"You're insane" I shake my head and take the plates to put them on the table, turning my back to him to not to show him my face, darkened by the previous thoughts. Why does my brain always have to ruin the best moments?

"I know, I know. Anyway it's comfortable and it smells like you, I think I'll keep it. Can I?" I turn around in puzzlement and when I look at him he takes the hems of the shirt and closes them tightly over his chest, miming a hug. Then he shoves his nose against the fabric of the sleeve and pretends to be inebriated by my perfume, emitting a dramatic satisfied sigh.

“Which shitty romantic comedy did you come from, can you explain?” I look at him perplexed and on the inside I thank him for making me forget my fucking negative thoughts in a second.

"I'm not romantic and I'm not funny" he replies very seriously.

"And in any case the cliché should be the other way around: in any self-respecting romance flick, it's the girl who gets up in the morning and puts on her man's shirt or t-shirt. And he obviously enjoys the view"

"And since when do you respect gender clichés? Why is it always the male eye only that needs to be pleased?" he leans back on the kitchen counter and as he does so the edges of his shirt widen again.

"Shut up or I'll have to… um… jump on you here and now" I half-quote his line from earlier.

"...said the girl, giving him an excellent reason not to stop at all." Eddie walks up to me again in a threatening way (yeah, okay…), but this time it goes badly for him. I think I've never loved and hated Mariah Carey at the same time as much as now.

"Somedaaay Hey Heeeey! Oh hi guys, good morning" Meg enters the kitchen and I don't know if she doesn't notice me and Eddie because her attention is all on the table or if she's just pretending.

"HI"

"Good morning Meg" Eddie and I drift apart like two magnets placed in front of each other. He turns around trying to fasten the remaining buttons on his/my shirt, even though they're backwards, while I dedicate myself to distributing the pancakes on the plates.

“Did I interrupt something?” I correct myself, she noticed and doesn't even pretend she didn't, while she squeezes chocolate onto her pancakes.

“Yes, a debate about feminism” Eddie gives me a flying kiss on the cheek and sits down at the table.

"You can't just flirt like normal couples, huh?" Meg winks at me as I sit down too, resigned to her comments.

"We're not normal individually, let alone as a couple" observes Eddie and he's not entirely wrong. He also goes for the chocolate syrup, so the only one who will give a change to the yogurt will be me, obviously.

“Anyway, when are you going to ask him him to move in here with us?” Meg looks at me first and then, this time, the wink is for Eddie.

"What??"

"So we'll have the cool breakfast every morning"

"If you want pancakes, just ask, no need to get Eddie involved" I mutter as he and Meg laugh loudly at my expense.

“Did you call Crowe?” Meg gives me another jab when she's halfway through her pancakes and it's clear that I'm her favorite target this morning.

"No, I didn't call him"

"And when will you call him?"

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

"If you want, I'll take care of it," Eddie saves me in every sense, intervening in the conversation and pouring me some more coffee into the half-empty cup, "I'll tell him when I see him"

"You tell him Angie accepts?!" Meg remains with her fork in mid-air in front of her open mouth and is about to have a bitter surprise.

"Actually, no. I mean, I understood no, or maybe I'm wrong?" Eddie looks alternately between my roommate and me.

"No, you're not wrong, as I already told you, I have decided to refuse" I reassure him and prepare for hell.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" Meg drops her fork on her plate and looks at me reproachfully.

"Because, as I already, told you multiple times, it's not for me"

"And you? Don't you have anything to tell her?" Eddie, who evidently appreciated my culinary efforts because he has already cleaned his plate polishing off every crumbs, pauses for a few seconds, keeping the napkin over his mouth before speaking.

"Um? Me? Why? What should I say?"

"What should you say?! Convince her, right?" Meg looks at both of us like we're idiots.

"Well, we talked about it. Personally I think it's a great opportunity, but if Angie doesn't feel like doin'g it, then she shouldn't do it. I don't want to put pressure on her or anything like that." Eddie gets up, puts the plate in the sink along with the cup, after finishing his coffee.

"I, on the other hand, really wanna put all the pressure on you. I mean, without an external push you would never do a damn thing, you wouldn't even be here! And then I think you're making a huge mistake by saying no! And you should tell her too, if you care about her" my friend shuffles in her seat, she didn't expect to find herself in the minority.

"I do care. And since I care I want her to be free to choose what to do. If she took part to the movie just to make us happy, it would be useless. At least, that's what I think." Eddie explains his thesis and then approaches me again and gives me another quick kiss on the lips "I'm going to shower and get dressed. With the right clothes this time"

I look at him dreamily as he leaves the kitchen and walks away, until I meet Meg's questioning gaze.

"Hehe it's because he wore the wrong shirt, he wore mine instead of his... because in the dark they looked the same to him eheh"

"This is not the explanation I'm looking for"

"What do you mean?"

"What did you tell him?"

"Him who?"

"Eddie! He's suddenly so careful not to offend your feelings, what did you say to him?" he crosses his arms and looks at me defiantly.

“What makes you think I said anything to him?”

"I know you. And, even if a little less, I know him too"

"Can't it be that he just believes what he said?"

"No. He didn't believe it when he forced you to play basketball with the band, play drums at Cameron's party, go up the Space Needle, make out in front of an entire club full of people for two hours. I don't see why he would have changed his mind now, unless you intervened in some way" Meg aggressively counts my adventures on her fingers.

“Aren't you going to finish your pancakes?”

"No, I won't give you the slightest culinary satisfaction until you speak" and she knows that it bothers me a lot, she's using strong methods.

"But I have nothing to say"

"What did you tell him?"

"Nothing"

"What did you really tell him?"

"Hahaha NOTHING!"

“Did you promise him sexual favors?”

"He's my boyfriend, he already has my favors, I don't need to promise anything to him"

"Maybe favors that are... a little kinkier than usual?"

"No!"

"Just tell me then or these pancakes are gonna end up in the bin" Meg takes the plate, gets up and stands in front of the dustbin.

"You wouldn't dare"

"Wanna bet?" maintaining eye contact with me, she slowly puts her foot on the bin's pedal and the lid opens up with a click.

"Well, it's not like I told him anything specific…"

"HA! You did say something to him, then?!" the lid closes, but she doesn't move.

"I talked to him about the fact that I wouldn't be comfortable being an actress"

"Mmmm"

"And that I would have too many lines to memorize"

"And?"

"That the presence of Tim Burton would have put me in difficulty"

"Okay... and?"

"And that I would have been hypercritical and would never want to see that film again if I had been in it… Maybe, due to the trauma, I would never set foot on a movie set again"

"Only that?" Meg's little foot still rests on the pedal of the dustbin.

"Only that?! I basically told him that it could put my entire career at risk."

"Okay. And then, what else did you tell him?" Meg doesn't give up and I feel I'm about to capitulate, I have no other choice.

“And well, I may have added some plot details…”

"THERE YOU GO. Tell me about these details" Meg realized she finally had me in her under her thumb and she sits back down at the table, placing the plate in front of her.

"I might have told him that, while skimming through the script, I had read of something I didn't feel like doing"

“What the hell of a story did you make up, Angie?” my friend shakes her head and grabs her fork again.

"I didn't invent anything! I just told him that at a certain point I thought I saw a scene with…"

"With…?"

"With a kiss"

"A KISS?!"

"A kiss, a very long one"

"AHAHAHAHAH YOU'RE SUCH A BITCH!" Meg doesn't hold back and laughs holding her belly.

"Look, it's true! There is a kiss! There are several! Just, um, not exactly in my scene"

"WHAT A BAD BITCH!"

“And since I mentioned this to Eddie, he suddenly became very understanding of my insecurities.”

"YOU DON'T SAY?! Who knows why?" Meg dives back into the pancakes, but not before adding some more chocolate syrup.

"You won't tell him anything, right?"

"Look, I would be tempted because for me you are a fool to refuse a part in the film and I would involve anyone to convince you, but…"

"But?"

"But I love your perfidiousness in this thing too much to let you get caught"

"I'm not evil!"

"No, you're just a little budding manipulator who cunningly uses someone else's weakness for her own gain… Little Angie is growing up! I could almost start crying" Meg feigns emotion and wipes away some fake tears with her napkin.

"Ahaha I didn't manipulate Eddie"

"You used his jealousy to make him do what you wanted, how do you call it?"

"I just striked some chords…"

"You pulled the right strings!" Meg gets up and puts the plate in the sink with the rest.

"I don't know if you're trying to play with my conscience to get me to tell Eddie the truth and accept the part or if you actually appreciate my little dishonest ploy."

"Mmm a bit of both!" Meg leaves the kitchen and retrieves her jacket and bag, I join her at the door "Anyway, in the end, even if manipulated, Eddie is right: it's you who decides. It's just that... I would have loved to brag a bit and say Hey, my friend is in that movie!"

"Half the people you know will be in that movie. Anyway, once I become a successful author, you can say Hey, my friend wrote that!"

"I can't wait! Alright, see you tonight at Roxy's"

"Ok see ya"

"Did you follow me to the door to say bye or to make sure I wouldn't go and tell Eddie"

"Hahaha to say bye! You would never do that. At least, not now that he's in the shower"

"Well, I could if I wanted to, you're not the jealous one in the couple" he winks at me and opens the door.

"Bye Meg"

"Besides, I've already seen him in his underwear, so" she's about to leave, but she comes back and shrugs at me.

"BYE" I close the door in her face as a joke and she holds it open with one foot.

"And my friends' boyfriends are all like women to me"

"JUST GO IT'S LATE, SEE YOU TONIGHT!"

The woodworm that Meg has just tried to put in my head about my unfair attitude towards Eddie doesn't even have time to creep into my thoughts when the phone starts ringing.

"Hello"

"…" on the other side just silence.

"Hello?" I repeat and actually I seem to hear noises through the receiver. It's not a noisy line, it's mora like someone is waiting in silence with the receiver in their hand.

"Is anyone there or not?" the moment I clearly perceive a breath I freeze. I look around to figure out where Eddie is, because I can't hear the sound of the shower water anymore, but I don't see him around. I go peek in my room and it's not there, so he's probably finished the shower, but he's still in the bathroom.

"Is it you?"

"…" still nothing.

"Do you need anything? Do you need money?" I ask in a low voice, but without getting any answer, except for an abrupt termination of the phone call.

I exhale deeply, as if I've been holding my breath for a while, and maybe I really have. I drop the phone on the table, take my plate and put it in the sink along with everything else. I glance at the clock. No, I don't have time now, I'll wash them later today.

A new ring of the phone makes me jump, I look at it for a while without doing anything, but then I decide to answer, if only to prevent Eddie from becoming suspicious and coming out here to see what's happening and why no one answers the phone.

"HELLO?!"

"Hey, good morning to you too! What happened? Did you wake up with a bad case of the grumpies this morning?" the response on the other end, this time, puts me in a completely different mood.

"Hi mom! No, everything's ok"

"I mean, it sounded like you wanted to maul whoever was on the other end of the phone…"

"No, it's just… there's someone having fun making prank calls this morning. They call and don't speak, without even a bit of imagination, at least they could come up with something more articulated"

"Like, if you have to bother me, at least use creativity"

"Exactly"

"Okay, how are you? Sorry I'm calling you this early, but at least I'm sure I'd find you"

"No problem, you did well. In fact, you barely found me because I have to go to class soon" I walk up to my room to get the clothes to put on, waiting for Eddie to come out of the bathroom.

"That's it, exactly. I'll end up having to make an appointment to talk to you on the phone"

"Don't worry, I still have time, we can have our fulfilling mother-daughter conversation"

"Good girl. So how are you? How did your holidays go?"

“Well, I worked a lot!”

"It's a shame they're called holidays…"

"Okay, I also rested and did a lot of things that I've had pending for ages! I defrosted the fridge, I cleaned the chandeliers, I washed all the carpets…" I go back to the corridor while I recall all the steps of the great house cleaning.

"What a strange concept of rest"

"Ugh, I went out with Meg and the others too, I haven't been home all day"

"I had no doubts. And how is Eddie?"

"Eddie is-" he almost caught me off guard "Why are you asking me about Eddie? And more importantly, how do you know him?" yeah, how do you know the guy who just came out of the bathroom covered only by a short towel tied not very firmly at the waist that could fall at any moment and who winked at me before slipping into my room.

"Oh your father told me about him"

"Did he tell you about him? What did he tell you?" the guy who slips into the room without closing the door, takes off the towel and… NO, ANGIE, YOU DON'T HAVE TIME AND YOU'RE ON THE PHONE WITH YOUR MOTHER, FOR FUCK'S SAKE.

"Yeah, I mean, he told me that you have a friend called Eddie and that he met him."

“It happened months ago, why are you asking me about my friends now?” and why Eddie, would be the real question. But I don't want to get too carried away and make her suspicious.

"No, I'm just looking at the photos your father took when he came to visit you…"

"Ah, the famous photos that I haven't seen yet" I lock myself in the bathroom and put it on speakerphone, so I can brush my teeth in the meantime.

"Well, because he only developed them now! Forgive him, he's been very busy with work, I've barely seen him too"

"I know, I know, it's just that he told me he would send them to me"

"In fact, he's going to send them to you exactly this morning. Which would also be the reason why I called you, to tell you this"

"Oh great! Thank him"

"And… you know, since I have a photo of you with Eddie right in front of me right now, he came to my mind, just like this"

"Totally random"

"Right. Anyway, how is he?" He's fine, mom, thanks. He spent the night with me and now he is naked in my room.

"Good! From what I know, at least. I mean, the band is recording the album, I don't see them as often as before" well done, Angie. Plural. Go with plural.

“But you told me earlier that you hung out with the guys during spring break.”

"Yes, of course, but I haven't seen them in a while now. However, they're happy, Stone told me that everything is going well." Was using Stone as a diversion from Eddie a good move?

"Ah! So you've seen Stone more than Eddie!" no, it's not good at all.

"I saw them equally, mom, don't get any strange ideas, I thought I made myself clear enough at Christmas" I snort and start taking off my dressing gown and pajamas.

"Very clear! You know what? The pictures are very beautiful, you'll see. Now I'll get dad for you, he has to tell you something"

"Okay?" my father? What does he have to tell me? He won't ask me about Eddie too, will he?

"Bye Angie, call me next time so I don't bother you, okay?"

"You're not mad because I'm talking to you while getting ready and doing something else in the meantime, are you?" I get dressed quickly, the only thing I forgot to take are the boots, but I can put them on later.

"No, but call! Okay, here's your father"

"Bye"

"Hey Angie!"

"Hi Dad"

"Today I'm sending you all the photos I took when I came to Seattle. Sorry if I'm late but it's been a mess. I've practically been living in the darkroom for weeks"

"Don't worry. How did they turn out?" I put my pajamas in the laundry hamper, throw my robe over my shoulder and, with the phone still on loudspeaker in my hand, I leave the bathroom.

"Not to brag, but they turned out great! Both the ones from the concerts and those from the beach party. I got a nice box here, ready to be shipped"

"Fine, now come out of the dark room and spend some time with mom" when I enter the room I waste no time, I put my dressing gown on the chair and run to cover Eddie's mouth before he can make any sound.

"Don't worry, I'll do that!"

"Did you want to tell me something else? Mom already told me about the pictures" when I'm sure he understood and he nods at me, I release my grip on Eddie's mouth and go and sit on the bed to put on my boots, with my back towards him.

"Yes, I wanted to ask you: do you know Nirvana?"

"Yes, they are a band from around here, I even saw them twice in concert"

"Not as a band, do you know them personally?"

“Um well, not really.”

"What do you mean? Do you know them or not?"

"I know them by sight! Mostly the drummer…" damn, why did I say that?? I quickly turn around and see Eddie has stopped right in the middle of zipping up his pants and is glaring at me "and I exchanged a few words with the bassist, I know who the singer is but that's it"

"Oh because they know you"

"What? And how do you know?" Why do I feel he's not about to tell me anything good? And why the fuck did I keep it on speakerphone? I can't take it off now or it would look like I want to hide things from Eddie.

"They played here in Boise a few days ago"

"Really?"

"At The Zoo" the management guys must have thought it was a real zoo and wanted to send Kurt there, for sure.

"And you went to see them? Weren't you busy with work?" after eternal moments I start tying my boots again and Eddie finally zips up his fly.

"You know what they say, too much work and no play…"

"Yes, and then you end up chasing your family with a hatchet"

"Exactly. Great concert anyway, pure energy! I took few photos unfortunately. The next day I bought the album. They also played some new tracks from the album which has yet to be released"

"And what do I have to do with all this?" if he bought Dave a drink too, I swear I'll scream. What the fuck is that? Does my dad have some kind of radar for my exes now? And he has to talk about it right now with Eddie listening?

"Oh because at one point on stage the singer said something about how it was their first time playing in Idaho and that so far they didn't know anyone from around here, except for a girl who's actually from our town. And he said that he will have to find another nickname for their friend, but it was a quick and rather cryptic conversation that I didn't quite understand. Do you know anything about it?"

"Mmm I have no clue honestly" Eddie looks at me and bursts out laughing, I signal him to be quiet and he covers his face with his hands.

"But you're the friend, aren't you?"

"I don't think so," a friend of that jerk?? I'd rather gouge my eyes out with my bare hands "I wonder who he was talking about, there must be other people from Boise who moved to Seattle, I'm not that special, you know?"

"That's why I asked you if you knew them…"

"Yes, but only by sight and they don't know where I'm from, they don't even know my name eheh" Eddie uncovers his face and makes a noise as if to say Yes, of course!

"Oh well, it's just a coincidence then"

"Of course it is"

"Ok, I'll leave you now. I'll go to the post office and then to the editorial office"

"Okay. Bye and good luck with your work"

"And say hello to Meg"

"Alright"

"And Eddie" Eddie looks at me and explodes into a toothy smile, while he waves hello with his little hand in the direction of the phone.

“Go-why Eddie?”

"No reason, he just came to my mind"

“Let me guess: you got one of his pictures right in front of your eye right now, right?” well, now Eddie will think that in my house there is a little altar with a picture of him, flowers and candles and that my parents pray on it every single morning.

"Hehe, actually yes! Say hello to him when you see him, ok? He's a good boy"

"I will. Bye dad"

“Bye Ray,” Eddie replies to himself as soon as I hang up.

"If they had heard you, I would have killed you!"

"Pff overreacting as usual…" now fully dressed, he comes and sits next to me on the bed.

"Ha! Don't even think about it, it's late and we have to rush to the university"

"I don't know what you're talking about, I just wanted to get this" all cocky, he reaches under the bed and pulls out his backpack.

"Sure"

"I'm a good boy"

"Okay, if the good boy is ready, it's time to go"

"Ok let's go"

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

"How do you say Can I have your number in Swiss?"

"There's no such thing as Swiss, Mike" the girl from the staff just opened the door to the dressing rooms, just long enough to tell us Soundcheck in zehn Minuten, and that idiot has already fallen in love.

"What do you mean? So what do they speak in this hell of a country?"

"Where are we now, that is Zurich, they speak German" I just give him the key concept, we have a soundcheck to do and I'm not in the mood to explain Swiss multilingualism to my bass player.

"Okay, how do you say it in German?"

"Ask them in English, you'll see they understand you anyway" Layne gets up and motions to Starr, the only one sitting, to do the same and follow him.

"The whole world speaks English" says Sean the wise.

"You should have learned it by now, after the shitty show the other night in Düsseldorf" Layne opens the dressing room door and goes out, followed closely by us, remembering our nice little mishap the day before yesterday, when Mike al most got us killed. A typical Alice in Chains Monday night, in short.

"AGAIN? Look, I made a fucking comment in a fucking bar full of people, I thought you barely heard me, let alone those guys!" Mike isn't entirely wrong, there was an absurd mess in that karaoke bar. I don't know how the fuck we ended up there, I think it was just the closest source of alcohol on the way between the concert venue and the place we were sleeping at. We were all shitfaced when a guy in a leather jacket and sunglasses, who had just destroyed The show must go on on stage, passed by us. The very second as Mike noticed an unexpected resemblance.

"We all thought he didn't look anything like Freddie Mercury, but we kept it to ourselves instead of shouting it from the rooftops!"

"But it was so him! It was the Fonz with a moustache! What the fuck did I say? I said nothing bad, I didn't call him an idiot"

"Actually the exact words were Such an asshole, rather than Freddie Mercury, he looks like the Fonz with a mustache ah ah ah"

"Okay, he only heard the second part though"

"And thank goodness, otherwise he and his friends would have kicked us all the way inside the hotel, instead of stopping outside"

We arrive on stage and start with the rehearsals without getting lost in further chatter. We're here to play four songs in front of a couple of thousand people who don't give a shit about us and who can't wait for us to get off our balls and enjoy the Megadeth concert, of which we are the support band. But for us it's fucking life, playing is playing, as long as they put us on a stage, we'll do it with anyone and in front of any audience. I mean, we've opened for everyone from fucking Poison to Iggy Pop in just the space of one year. In this Andy and I were really on the same wavelength. I remember the nights spent fantasizing about our imaginary future concerts in stadiums and temples of rock. "Madison Square Garden? I'll even go there with the fucking Warrant just to play there!" I can still hear him say. I miss him so fuckin' much. Well, at least I like Megadeth even though maybe neither they nor their fans like me. We are at the fourth date of this European tour and we still haven't even exchanged a word. Let's say we almost didn't even see them. And the people? Well, if they're cold that's fine, when it's bad then they'll just throw shit at us on stage. If Angie were here, she'd suggest we put up a protective net like in the Blues Brothers… Well, thank goodness the soundcheck is over because I'm getting melancholic as fuck and I need a fucking beer. Without speaking we all leave and go out in the same direction, straight towards the nearest bar, hoping this isn't karaoke too. When I see a phone booth on the other side of the road, however, I can't help but take action and take a small detour.

"I have to… um I have to make a phone call, see you later"

“Can't you call from the bar? I'm pretty sure they have a phone there too”

"Oh no, Mike, he can't! Can't you see the young gentleman here doesn't want to be heard? It's so obvious!" Sean is already on the starting blocks of taking the piss out of yours truly.

"But who do you have to call? The same girl from yesterday?"

"From yesterday and the day before yesterday…" continues the drummer.

"But what about minding your own business?"

"And who is this girl? Aren't you going to tell us?"

"Layne knows her, she's a friend of Dem" Kinney is super informed on the facts, as I imagined Layne held back, but not completely and let the minimum slip. Excellent.

"I cultivate the noble art of minding my own fuckin' business, so I don't know anything"

"Well done Layne!" I pat my buddy on the shoulder and start to walk away again.

"Well done my ass, we're worried about you!"

"Speak for yourself, I'm very calm and I just want the booze" and this too was predictable from Sean. By now I could write everyone's parts in our dialogues, I know them like the back of my hand.

"Don't listen to him, you are our brother! You just miraculously emerged from the disaster with Angie, you know... and now you're going to get yourself in trouble in yet another serious affair with someone else??"

"Who told you this is serious?"

"If it's worth three intercontinental calls, it's serious for me"

"Come on, she's someone he's just met, she's fresh and he wants to keep her interested, right?"

"I see you already know everything so I have nothing else to add, see you later" I walk away amidst the shouts and whistles of my companions and I see them proceed shuffling towards the bar from inside the booth.

I take the small address book from the inside pocket of my jacket and obviously I open it to the first page, to the letter A. I know I should flip on through it, but I can't, it's as if I'm stuck, as if I'm short-circuiting for a few seconds . I put what I think it's the equivalent of our tonight's salary in coins into the phone and dial the wrong number on purpose. What time will it be the now? Like 9 or 10 in the morning, maybe she's not even home.

"Hello" but she's fucking there instead.

"Hello?" she repeats and at that point I realize that I haven't spoken, because in reality I thought I'd answered and told her that it was me and that I'm in a break between soundcheck and concert and that I called her because, for a change, I was thinking about her .

"Is anyone there or not?" I think I can hear myself telling her about the Fonz with the moustache, about the more than necessary protective net for our stage, about Mike who last night was about to pick up a girl who told him she was in her third year at Gymnasium, thinking it meant she was a gym freak, before I saved him by explaining that she was a fucking high school student.

"Is it you?" I'm panicking because I got caught like an idiot. After all, who else would call her and then give her the silence treatment? And from abroad too… I'm such an asshole.

"Do you need help? Do you need money?" at this point it's as if I wake up from some kind of fucking hypnosis and suddenly hang up the phone. Money? Why would Angie think I'm calling her for money? The answer is simple: she didn't catch me at all and she thought I was someone else. But who? Who could call her in the morning asking for money? What kind of mess did she get herself into? When I leave the phone booth I remember that I forgot to call Heather like we agreed, but who cares after all? The guys think I did it, in the end it's the gesture that counts. I join the band at the bar counter with a head full of questions.

The questions run through my head until the concert and even during and after that. In the end the show didn't go bad at all, apart from a few painless coins thrown, the audience also reacted well. You can see that the Swiss are more polite! And I was proven wrong twice tonight because, as soon as we got off the stage, we were immediately intercepted by David Elleffson and Marty Friedman of Megadeth who complimented us, confessing that they had no idea who the fuck we were before they heard us and that in their opinion we rock the asses, even if our name doesn't sound very good to them. We all spent the evening together drinking, smoking and talking bullshit, especially them, because at a certain point Marty said that they want to propose us as the opening band for the mega tour they will do with Slayer and Anthrax once they return home and in my opinion it was the drugs talking. Not that we don't deserve it, on the contrary! Well, I'll wait and see what happens, it would be cool, but I don't want to day dream for nothing. I prefer to take things as they come, day by day. But who the fuck calls you to ask you for money first thing in the morning? Maybe it's just a friend in need that Angie is helping because she always has to help everyone? Or maybe not…

#grunge fanfiction #pearl jam fanfiction #eddie vedder #pearl jam #alice in chains #jerry cantrell #layne staley #mike starr #sean kinney #chapters #oh hi by the way

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thegeek-s · 1 year

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37. lovers’ tangle, snakeskin boots, and a spilled candle

PREVIOUSLY: Kat thinks Mark’s been acting strange since coming back but she chucks it off to jetlag and touring induced exhaustion; she rallies some people to go see Pet Semetary together and gets roped into chaperoning Lizzy and Jerry’s date before that, along with Sean, who’s anything but thrilled to be there; the lovebirds in question, in the meantime, are continuing to hold off on unsupervised dating but that doesn’t extinguish any of the sparks and chemistry between them; Mudhoney play their first show since coming back to Seattle and the ambience seems to sufficiently change Lizzy and Jerry’s minds about keeping their physical distance after all.

I’ve been feeling like a damn teenager lately and I really need to get a grip. Thing is, I couldn’t stop thinking about Lizzy the whole day today, basically counting down hours and minutes until I’d see her. She drives me fuckin’ crazy, just the thought of her… Hell, we haven’t even kissed! Isn’t that fuckin’ ridiculous? I did tell her I’ve never felt about anyone else the way I feel about her and I know it’s the corniest shit you could think of but I really meant it.

I splash some water on my face and as I’m straightening back up from the sink, a guy pokes his head into the restroom and tosses what looks like a used condom into a bin next to me. Ah, the undying romance of these places… Actually, funnily enough, Mark has been introducing every song tonight with some weird preamble about love and it’s obviously doing something to the crowd.

And I can’t really fully exclude myself…although I’m not sure if the credit should go to Mark here… Honestly, all I’ve been thinking about since I got here is how much I do want to kiss Lizzy. Which, of course, I’m not going to! We agreed not to do anything until I see Dee. And that’s in a week’s time. This is clearly important to Lizzy and I guess I can see where she’s coming from. Just as much as she doesn’t want to start anything with a guy who’s potentially not over his ex, I don’t want to seem like I rush into relationships recklessly and randomly. So no kissing tonight.

I stare at my reflection in the dirty, fractured mirror for a minute longer after drying my face with a paper towel and finally come back out of the restroom. I sit back down on my stool right as Mudhoney are starting…an actual love song, by the sound of it? Expect the unexpected, I guess… Both Lizzy and I exchange thoroughly amused grins and then I launch into a little impromptu dance, which makes her laugh even more.

“I didn’t know you’re such a great dancer,” she beams up at me.

“I’m a man of many, many talents, Liz.” And I’ll tell you all about them sometime later…

I sit back down and pull her closer, nuzzling my face into the crook of her neck. The sweet flowery, peachy smell of her hair fills my lungs and I think that even if I can’t kiss her tonight, I’m still feelin’ pretty damn happy. She starts humming along to the song, making up a melody that weaves in and out of the dirty, crackly chords. I love how this girl just knows music, she just feels it, understands it inside out. When she sings and hums, it comes out so effortlessly and perfectly. It’s just like talking for the rest of us.

I press a quick peck to her hair at that thought and feel her instantly tense up just a little. I lift my face, intending to apologize for that misstep, but I’m met with her sexy brown eyes and then…then she kisses me! And there’s no convincing required on my part; I bring my hand to cup her face and use the other to pull her closer as I deepen the kiss.

“Wow, Lizzy…” I look at her, quite literally speechless, when we pull apart after very long, very lovely couple of minutes. “I’ve been dying to do that for a while now,” I stroke her cheek with my thumb .

“Me too, actually,” she purrs, just inches away from my face; still so close that I can feel her breath on my lips…and then we kiss again…and then some more… and we kiss the rest of the night away, and it makes me feel like I’m on fuckin’ drugs, and I never wanna stop.

“Oh, hey, Lizzy,” a familiar nasal voice reaches my ears and does it very efficiently, seeing as Stone is standing inches away from us.

Lizzy and I both automatically pull apart just enough to tilt our heads to look at the guy, just to make sure that he’s really there, that we didn’t just imagine him, in which case we could move on and carry on. He is, however, actually there. “Hey,” I lean back some more and bob my head once at him, wondering if I’m smiling too much and what the social etiquette here is exactly. I can’t really feel my lips though so I wouldn’t know if I was.

“Hey, Stone,” Lizzy giggles.

“Hi, Jerry,” he shuffles his usual wide stare to me. Sometimes it’s really hard to tell if Stone’s a walking, breathing genius or if it’s just an empty vacuum behind those eyes… “Kat’s looking for you, Lizzy. She’s trying to go home.”

“Eva doesn’t want to stay longer?” Lizzy inquires sweetly and I, in the meantime, let my eyes roam over her face, down the bridge of her nose, across her skin of softest satin, along her luscious lips, her long, deep-black eyelashes…

“Eva’s not here. I think she’s having a mental breakdown at home or something. Not enough hours in the day, something along those lines,” the doofus continues to converse casually as if he didn’t just interrupt anything. “You’re going back with Mudsellouts.”

“They’re leaving already?” I voice my wonder.

“What do you mean, already?” Stone snorts a laugh. “It’s three a.m.. Lukin already puked all over the urinals.”

Three!?? Swear to God, I would have guessed it’s only been thirty minutes tops since they stopped playing. I guess it is true, what they say about time being relative…

“Wait…so Matt’s driving?” Lizzy’s expression suddenly plunges into a deeply worried frown.

“Obviously not, don’t be ridiculous. Mark is.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better!?”

“It should because apparently, he didn’t have any alcohol tonight. Between you and me though, he’s been acting real fuckin’ weird lately so he might be on something else entirely.”

“Stone!” Lizzy smacks his arm and tries to give him a dirty look but laughs instead.

“I can take you home,” I remember that I can also participate in this conversation instead of just watching Lizzy.

“They’re literally all in the van, like, right now, just waiting for Lizzy,” Stone continues to be the world’s worst wingman.

“You can spend the night at my place,” I blurt out blankly and stupidly as I look at Lizzy.

“No…” She sighs. “I should really get home tonight. But I’ll see you soon, yeah?” She looks at me in a way that makes me feel like she can see right into my soul. Really though, three o’clock??

“Definitely,” I say and lean forward, intending to kiss her, while Stone just…continues to stand there. “I’ll walk you out,” I tell her instead and get up from my seat.

Lizzy and I start walking towards the exit and Stone falls into step right next to us. I give him a mildly bewildered look and his eyebrows dip slightly and…nothing. I shoot him a more obviously confused look and he finally catches on.

“Oh, I’m getting a ride with them,” he nods his head at Lizzy. God damn it, Stone, you fuckin’ weirdo.

I walk Lizzy and Stone out to the parking lot, although I thankfully only kiss one of them goodnight. Turns out, Lizzy doesn’t care about PDA’s, as she sprinkles a healthy pinch of sugar on me right in front of a van full of her friends.

After the Mudhoney ride rattles off into the night, leaving a trace of wolf whistles and drunken laughter, I shuffle my way back inside the venue and head for the bar. If I know my friends at all, that’s where I’ll find them. Although I’m in no rush to see them, or anyone. I might need a moment to process. And to savor.

“Hey there, stud,” Sean’s voice reaches me like a missile. Yeah, I knew it. Him, Layne, Demri, Mike, and a couple other people we know are all draped along the bar counter in some strange, dirty and drugged up rendition of The Last Supper.

“How’re y’all doing?” I drawl, possibly because I still haven’t fully regained feeling in my lips.

“Not as good as you, clearly,” Demri cackles and Layne shoots her a supposedly dirty look along with a dignified ‘hey!’. “Oh, Layne, don’t you remember how amazing and magical the world was when we first got together? Don’t you remember what young love is like?” She flutters her eyelashes at him.

“And what are we now, an old married couple?”

“Still not getting any tonight then?” Sean adjusts on his barstool, turning to me and leaving the couple to their Shakespearean quarrel.

“How do you ever get anyone to go out with you…” I respond with a slow, over-the-top shake of my head.

“I have good hair,” he shrugs. “What do you see in her, anyway?”

“What do you mean, what do I see in her?” My expression of confusion and annoyance edging in is totally genuine now.

“I dunno. She’s…kind of a Olivia Newton-John and you’re definitely a John Travolta.”

“What?” I laugh out incredulously.

“She’s kind of a square.”

“A square?” My tone stays incredulous.

“Uh-huh. She’s probably just in her bad boy phase right now.”

“What the fuck, Sean,” this time he gets a laugh out of me. “What does that even mean?? She’s done coke in Spain, for your information.”

“Oh well then never mind,” he pops his eyes at me as we both laugh. When can I see her next? What’s tomorrow… Saturday. Shit, I work tomorrow… Lizzy doesn’t though. I can drop by her place after work. Is that weird though? Should I just call her? Nah, I don’t wanna call her, I wanna see her. But is th—

“EARTH TO JERRY!”

“Huh?” I flinch back into reality, in which all of my friends are looking at me, yelling and laughing.

* * *

1 year and 2 months earlier

1988 March 12th

“Remember me?” A girl with perfectly messy ashy blonde hair leans into my side in a world's gentlest nudge and then steps back with her hands on her hips and a big smile on her face. Hm, let's see: I ran into her three nights ago at a show (something that's been happening increasingly more often), she came back to my place (a first one), we had sex, then in the morning she ran out the door unprompted, saying something about an accounting meeting she had with a client (after previously telling me that she was a cosmetologist) and somehow looking even better than she had the night before. Yeah... I've been remembering for the past three days, what an odd question to ask.

“Kelly, right?” I grin at her.

“Asshole,” she narrows her eyes, her smile unfading.

“Asshole? I could have sworn it started with a K.”

Despite the lightning bolts in her eyes, she leans in for a kiss, and as she pulls away, her hand lingers on my freshly shaven chin. “I left my scrunchie at your place.”

“Ah well, it’s lost forever now. Matt will have already used it for some nasty sexual game with himself.”

“I’ll come over to look, just in case.”

“Careful though, my live-in girlfriend might see you and stab me in the night.”

“Live-in girlfriend?” Kristine throws her head back in laughter. “Are you referring to your band mate? Because no sane woman would ever live there.”

“Hey,” I try to give her a dirty look but crumple into a chuckle. “It looks a lot nicer when he’s not crashing there, okay.”

“So what happened to your last girlfriend anyway?” The nonchalance is palpable in her voice.

“She couldn’t take it anymore. Gauged her own eyes out and joined a travelling freak show as a Bearded Lady.”

“Can this be your one question you answer seriously today?”

Interesting question for a Saturday night but alright. I take a sip of my lukewarm beer and shrug. “She didn’t see the relationship going anywhere, she said. Come to think of it, we didn’t really see each other that much towards the end. Clashing schedules,” I pull my mouth into a toothy smile, hoping the answer will suffice. I mean, it’s true. There was nothing dramatic or explosive about the end of my relationship with the last girl I dated. She just kind of got bored, I guess. “I think she might’ve said I lacked ambition at one point or another,” I add as the memory surfaces.

“Hm,” is all Kristine says.

“Now you go! Where did you hide your ex’s body?”

“I don’t kiss and tell, Mark,” she flashes me a charming smile.

“Hello, fellow bar goers,” Kim Thayil shows up from the crowd with Buzz in tow. For some odd reason, their appearance makes me become aggressively aware of how close to me Kristine is.

“Is Matt around?” Buzz inquires.

“I’m sure he is,” I say since last I saw him was about two hours ago.

“I’m Kristine, by the way,” she says unnecessarily loudly and we all turn our heads to look at her.

“Good to know,” Buzz delivers flatly.

“Kim. That’s Buzz,” Thayil steps in with his clearly superior social skills. “What’s with the music?” He then points a finger at the ceiling. “Did you request it, Mark?”

“I love this song,” Kristine states boldly and I'm glad she did it first because I was about to make a different comment on it.

“You're kidding, right?” Buzz voices my concern, narrowing his eyes at her. “What's there to like about this piece of garbage?”

“Piece of garbage? Paula Abdul has a great voice, but I wouldn't expect you to know anything about that.”

“Ooh, what a sharp comeback. However will I get over it.”

“Mark?” She looks at me now, with some kind of a pointed look.

“What?”

Her eyes linger on me for a moment before she click her tongue and looks away. “Nothing. I'm bored.”

“You want a beer?” I offer her mine that's only half full by now.

“Yeah. How about a fresh one?” She arches her eyebrows and I assume she is hinting at me buying the said fresh beer for her. Okay then, I guess I'll go do that.

I down the rest of my drink and I elbow my way to the bar counter without too much difficulty. I ask for two of their cheapest beers and as I wait, leaned sideways against the edge of counter, my eyes inadvertently land on a girl some twenty feet away. She’s standing there, eating a donut, completely zoned out, by the looks of it, while her blonde friend is talking at her with animated hand gestures. Somebody bumps into the donut girl’s shoulder, making her red hair slide from behind her ear; she sends a quick glare at the culprit, then slowly unsticks a strand of hair from the donut, and plunges back into that same not-really-there kind of expression.

I come back just in time to hear Kim comment on Kristines boots: “Did you kill the snakes yourself?”

“Is that where the bad music taste is coming from? Bad juju for killing snakes?” Buzz adds, which cracks me up and I almost choke on my beer. “They match the song,” he goes on. Hey now, they're certainly something else but I kinda like them. It's a statement, makes her stand out from a sea of combat boots, I suppose.

* * *

I knock on the door and wait long enough that I’m about to knock again but then I finally hear footsteps on the other side. The lock clicks and the door swings open with a faint creak and I find myself standing in front of Mark Arm. Huh… I know Lizzy jokes about how this place is always full of people who don’t live here, yet I’m still surprised, every time.

“Hey, Mark.”

“Jerry, howdy. Heard you enjoyed the setlist last night,” he pulls his abnormally large mouth into a grin and steps aside to let me in. “Always good to get positive feedback from fellow dirty musicians.”

“Uh… Yeah,” I unwittingly mirror his expression. “And I heard you guys have a new rehearsal space and a career in the U.K.?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say we’re on the international highway to stardom,” he says and then just looks at me with that huge smile.

“Oh.” Eva appears in the doorway of her bedroom with a blank stare on her face. “Hi, Jerry,” she briefly lifts her hand. “How’s it going?”

“Hey, not too bad—”

“What’s up,” Matt Lukin appears in the bathroom doorway. Of course. This place really is always full of random people.

“Hey man,” I greet him as he walks over to the fridge. “So uh… Is Lizzy home?” I…did not intent to sound like a teenager talking to my sweetheart’s parents that much.

“Yeah,” Mark answers, still with that same grin. “I think she’s in her room. Do you want me to fetch her?”

“No,” I answer maybe a touch more vigorously than needed. I’m just not a hundred percent sure that he’s joking. “I know which room is hers,” I assure him as I cross the living room.

I knock on the closed bedroom door a couple of times and hear an instant ‘come in!’. “Hey, it’s Jerry,” I speak into the door crack without moving and then the door flies open, creating a wind tunnel almost strong enough to swoop me into her bedroom, or so it feels…

She’s wearing a silk scarf on her head and a fluffy robe wrapped up around her and I love that she doesn’t care about me seeing her like that. I mean, she shouldn’t, she’s gorgeous! And I really like that she seems to know that, too.

“I was actually just trying to call you,” she quickly lifts up her hand holding the telephone.

“Oh yeah?” I can’t help but grin, ear to ear. “Were you calling to ask me out?”

Lizzy breathes out that melodious laugh that makes my head spin as I close the door behind me. And all of a sudden, it’s quiet.

“So—”

“How’s—”

We both start and both interrupt each other.

“I didn’t even know if you’d be home, I was just…” Lizzy starts again while frantically trying to untangle her foot from the telephone cord.

“Yeah, I actually just came here…straight from work. I knew you’re not working today, so… I hope it’s not weird?”

“N-no, no…”

“You sure? I can leave.”

“You wanna leave?”

“It’s fine, no worries…” I turn my body back towards the bedroom door. What the fuck is going on here?! Like a goddamn teenager…

“No!” Lizzy stops me with a thud of setting the telephone down. “I mean,” she chuckles, “I don’t want you to leave.”

“No?” I feel a smile stretch across my lips and my legs finally seem to remember how to move and bring me a couple of steps closer to Lizzy.

“Nah.”

“What do you wanna do then?” I smirk down at her.

“Uh… We should talk!”

“Talk??”

“Yes.”

“What about?”

“About Dee.”

“What?!” I ask with an incredulous frown, in an embarrassingly high pitched voice.

“I mean, about how we said we wouldn’t do anything until after you saw her,” Lizzy corrects herself.

“Right,” I slump down to sit on the side of her bed. “Right, yeah. We should talk about that.” Right? I mean, I don’t really have much to say about it but it’s only fair, I guess.

“I just want you to know that I don’t regret it,” she sits down next to me.

“Glad to hear. Feels like there’s a ‘but’ coming though…”

“But… I also want you to know that I don’t normally act like that… I wasn’t asking to not do anything until after you saw Dee just to mess with you, you know?”

“I know, Lizzy. I know you don’t toy with people like that, trust me,” I give her a reassuring smile. How is this girl so sweet and gentle and caring, and how did I get so lucky??

“Good. It’s just that…you kissed me and I lost my damn mind!” She laughs out.

“Wait,” I pull my lips into an amused grin. “You mean, you kissed me.”

“What? Jerry! You kissed me first!”

“Nah, I distinctly remember reciprocating your kiss,” I lower my eyelids halfway as I watch the gentlest blush tint her cheeks.

“I would never do that!” She protests.

“You would never kiss me?”

“That’s not what I meant, Jer!” She laughs.

“We’ll have time to figure out what to tell our great-grandchildren later,” I assure her as I lean in and kiss her, because I can’t resist any longer.

“So you’ll see her on Friday?” Lizzy places her hand on my chest a minute later and gently nudges me.

“Who?”

“Dee.”

“Oh, yeah, right. Friday,” I laugh at myself.

“Where?”

“Yeah, where will you meet up?” The girl just won’t drop the topic.

“I haven’t really thought about that. How about on a street corner?” I lean in and kiss her again but a moment later, she pulls away again.

“A coffee shop? Maybe Raison?”

“Are you gonna have Eva spy on me?” I smirk at Lizzy and she quickly denies it with a laugh.

I should be thinking about this more than I am, shouldn’t I? I think it’s gonna hit me right before I see her though; that’s it’s all over and that that’s gonna be the end of our communication really. I mean, it has been over for some time. But seeing Dee in person will completely solidify it and then she’ll go back to Colorado so we won’t be running into each other on the street, and we won’t call each other again. It’s like the opposite of a first date – it’s the last one, in which we discuss our breakup and move on from there. It’s fucking weird is what it is, but I have a feeling I’ll be able to appreciate it later. Closure is important, after all.

“I hope it goes well,” Lizzy says.

“I’m sure it will be fine. She’s not the kind of girl to show up with a gun or a cyanide pill,” I assure her and go in for another kiss, yet again, and this time it seems like her mind’s been appeased some, and she melts into me.

“Hey! Oh! Sorry!” Another person who does not live here rips Lizzy’s bedroom door open and then freezes with a horrified expression on her face. “They didn’t tell me you had anyone over,” she glares at somebody outside the door frame.

“Those guys are such assholes…” Lizzy mumbles. “We were just talking…” She adds an obviously false explanation while her friend’s expression softens into a smirk. “Have you met Nadia, Jerry?”

“Hi, Nadia,” I give her a defeated wave of my hand, unable to keep from chuckling.

* * *

Buzz’s truck screeches to a halt, kicking up a huge cloud of dust. I climb out and while I’m saying bye to him and Lukin in the passenger seat, I notice a familiar blurry redhead in the distance, bobbing up and down as she’s marching down the sidewalk.

“Alright, see ya, Mark,” Buzz gives me a brief wave of his hand before they speed off and I start slowly shuffling towards the entrance to the apartment building.

God, I hate how excited I am to see her. Like a fucking puppy dog. Maybe I could stand to see her less, somehow… Within reason – I can’t do anything about the fact that we use the same laundry room and go to the same shows. But I guess I don’t have to hang out in her apartment so much. Just until this brain fog passes.

“Oh, hi, you…” She somehow only notices me when she’s about two feet away. What a lunatic.

“What’s up?” I inspect the obviously annoyed crease between her eyebrows.

“Not much.” She goes inside and up the stairs and I fall into step next to her.

“What’s wrong?” I rephrase politely.

“Not necessarily wrong, just that I haven’t felt this fucking dumb in a pretty long while now,” she keeps her eyes glued to the stairs, her words steeped in exasperation she’s failing to hold back. Funny you should say that since that’s how I feel anytime I exist around you lately but anyway.

“How come?”

“I had that bookseller interview…”

“Oh. And?”

“They had this stupid fucking quiz at the end of the group interview… And don’t even get me started on group interviews,” she draws a circle of impressive proportions with a roll of her eyes; I guess she’s already forgotten about trying not to sound upset. “The quiz had three parts and… I mean, Edward Abbey? Who the fuck cares about Edward Abbey!?” She raises her voice slightly and I give her an animated shrug, trying not to look too amused. “And how is a quiz with thirty questions relevant at all?? I studied postcolonial literature and graphic novels, how about they ask me about that!? I mean…I read!” She stares at me as we reach the top floor and I nod quickly. “I’m sure I’ve read books that these snobs haven’t. What if I gave them a quiz like that??”

“Uh…”

“I just feel like a fraud…”

“Novak, pull yourself together.”

“Just let me be dramatic in peace,” she sighs out and leads the way into her apartment and at this point, I feel like it would be really rude of me to just go to my own place.

“Gladly. I promise not to interrupt the rest of the one woman drama.”

“Woman? Feeling generous today, I see,” she eyes me dubiously right before shifting her manic stare over to Lizzy crouched down on the couch, scratching at it with her nails?.. “What’s going on?” Kat voices my exact thought.

“I spilled some melted wax on the couch…” Lizzy grumbles with a heartfelt sigh and Kat steps over to investigate.

“How did this happen!?”

“I was trying to blow the candle out…”

“Dude,” Kat breathes out impatiently, “you know that you need to put something underneath candles to catch the wax. Come on, this isn’t the first or even the fifth time that’s happened!”

“I’m sorry, Kat, I’ll clean it up…” Lizzy’s compliant tone tells me these kinds of scoldings are not completely out of the norm.

“It’s not hard to just not keep doing it, you know,” Kat goes on regardless. Poor Lizzy really happened to be in the wrong place and at the wrong time, huh?

“Wait for it to harden, it’ll be much easier,” I tell her. “Put something cold on it.”

“It’s going to leave a grease stain on the couch now anyway,” Kat mumbles while kicking her shoes off.

“I’ll clean that too, I have something for that.”

“You’re just spreading it around with your fingers, Lizzy!”

“Novak,” I put my hands on her shoulders and turn her around, away from me, “you and I both know you’re gonna look up all the books from that quiz so how about you go find your library card?” I direct her towards her room because I’m afraid that if I don’t, I’ll become an accessory to a murder – she’ll keep taking her anger over that stupid job out on Lizzy and Lizzy will never stand up to her because she seems to think that the best tactic is to just let the beast keep chewing her.

“Thanks,” Lizzy glances at me with a sour look after I close Kat’s bedroom door. “I don’t understand why she always has to be like that. It’s just some wax. And besides, I already spilled it. It’s not like I’ll unspill it if she just yells at me some…”

“Why don’t you just say that to her?” I ask as I walk over to the freezer and pull out an ice cube tray.

“You ever tried arguing with that girl?” Lizzy says with a shadow of a smile now as I hover the frozen tray above the wax splatter to harden it.

I have and it’s one of my favorite pastime activities. A sport, really. “Fair point. She’s in a bad mood, she just got rejected from that bookseller’s job. I think so, anyway…”

“Oh… See! Why can’t she just say that when she gets home? Then we can bitch about it together or something… Instead, she just takes it out on the first person she runs into.”

Technically, the second person. I somehow escaped unscathed. Uh but that is neither here, nor there, really.

The apartment door flies open and in comes Gwen. “Open the champagne,” she throws her coat on the couch, “first day as an intern at the Mexican embassy has been conquered!” She announces to the room, completely mismatching the mood. That explains the skirt suit though.

“How was it?” Lizzy tries to act like she wasn’t just verbally assaulted by an angry stray cat.

Gwen’s face grows more serious before she opens her mouth, evidently still figuring out her response. “It was great but I will say, there’s…slight sexist undertones…just…everywhere, really. It’s bizarre. Just these little things, little words, little looks…”

“I feel like that should be alarming, considering you’re transitioning from one of Seattle’s shittier bars…” I point out.

“Yeah…” Gwen just stares at – or right through – me for another thoughtful second. “It was good though. And now that I’m there, things will get even better,” she cackles, which I will not question. “We’ll need to go out on Friday to celebrate!”

“Jerry’s meeting up with his ex on Friday—”

“Great, so you’re free! It’s a plan then! You know,” Gwen walks over to the kitchen area, “the stench of sexual tension between you two was getting out of hand. I’m glad we can all stop smelling that,” she laughs while Kat walks out of her bedroom, the same sour expression sticking to her face. She throws a quick ‘hey’ to Gwen and makes a beeline for the bathroom. “What kind of wasp flew up her ass?” Gwen eyes the door that just swung shut.

“Is it wrong that I kinda want her to punch me in the face? Did I just say that out loud? I’m gonna see myself out…” I tip my imaginary hat as I speed walk out the door. I should really go home and think about my life choices while I’m at it.

* * *

“So Jerry and Lizzy are finally done beating around the bush, huh?” Jeff wiggles his eyebrows with a stupid grin as soon as I walk into the coffee shop.

“Huh? How do you know??”

“I don’t know why you’re still surprised that rumors take literally zero time to spread like a wildfire around here. Especially considering that a whole bar full of people saw them last night.”

“Oh, yeah…” I scrunch my eyebrows momentarily, feeling mild annoyance simmer in the pit of my stomach. Not even sure why… I just—I feel like lately, I’m annoyed at the very thought of people having fun and enjoying themselves. Probably because all I do is, well, things I need to do. Things I’ve committed to doing.

“Hey, did you close last night?”

“Yeah,” I mumble as I disappear in the back room and when I come back wearing an apron, Jeff squints over at me from the espresso machine.

“Are you okay?” He asks after a moment.

“Yeah, I’m fine, why?” I slip into customer service autopilot mode.

“I don’t know, you seem off.”

“Someone at the lab fucked up and contaminated all my tadpoles,” I sigh out through gritted teeth. My colleague somehow accidentally used my tadpoles that I’d been carefully monitoring for weeks, causing all my work to go to waste. I don’t understand how, considering that everything, every damn dust bunny in the lab is labelled. I guess some of us missed some stuff in first grade…ugh. I wish I didn’t have to work here today because I really just wanted to stay at the lab for however long it took me to sort all that mess out. Unfortunately, here I am.

“Ah, that sucks.”

“Yeah…” I lean my hips against the edge of the sink as I wash my hands. “And now I get to be here the whole afternoon.” Ugh.

“That’s the spirit,” he laughs, then places a coffee cup he’d just filled with hot liquid on the counter, and calls a Dean. “Hey, just so you know, you left the café unlocked last night,” he returns his attention to me. I remember when I first started working here eight months ago – this kind of information would have been communicated with a pissy pout and folded arms. Now, Jeff’s looking at me like it’s the most boring piece of information that he just needed to communicate. Woah…I can’t believe I’ve worked here for eight months now…

“I definitely didn’t,” I correct him with a slight frown. I know I locked the door, I’m a hundred percent sure.

“Well, it was unlocked this morning so unless somebody broke in just to play a prank on us, you were the last person here before I came in.”

“Maybe you unlocked it yourself and then forgot,” I offer with a half assed shrug and he opens his mouth to say something else but a customer comes up to the counter.

I take the order, Jeff makes it, and once the lady’s been sent on her way with three extra hot cappuccinos, Jeff turns to me again. “That makes no sense, how would I unlock it and forget about it within seconds??”

“I don’t know, Jeff. I don’t know what goes on in that head of yours.”

“Idiot,” he laughs. “I won’t give you shit about it but hopefully it doesn’t happen again.”

Wait a second… I just told him I locked it but he’s still gonna go ahead and act all high and mighty? “Very gracious of you, to not give me shit for something I didn’t do.”

“It’s whatever, Eva. Nothing happened so it’s not a huge deal.”

I swear, I’m gonna stab somebody in the face one of these days… What’s even worse than Jeff being dumb and probably unlocking the door himself and forgetting, is that he seems unable to keep from making jokes about it the whole hour that our shifts overlap. And I’m really not in the mood to argue about it, or even acknowledge him, really. I’ve been so tired and so stressed lately, I’m finally really learning the meaning of picking your battles.

“Are you coming to the park this Saturday?” Jeff asks me while untying his apron. Finally, the asshat’s about to head out and leave me the fuck alone.

“Probably.”

“You didn’t miss much last week, other than Stone having to fill in for you. That was pretty hilarious, actually. He can barely lift the ball,” Jeff laughs at his own joke. Ugh.

“Yeah, I decided to do something more productive and take a nap instead.”

“Just let someone know next time, alright,” he says before disappearing in the back room.

I miss one stupid afternoon of playing stupid basketball with a bunch of idiots and now he’s gonna lecture me about that too? UGH.

“Hey,” our manager practically storms into the café and walks behind the counter. “Did you happen to see if I left my wallet here last night?”

“You were here last night?”

“Yeah, like late last night. I was just dropping off the sugar. Aha!” He spots his wallet on a little shelf next to a big tub of sugar.

“I think you left the café unlocked.”

“Oh shit! Did I really?”

“According to Jeff. You might need to apologize because he can’t seem to let it go.”

“Tell him I said sorry,” he throws me a goofy smile as he runs out the door.

Just then, Jeff comes out from the back, his jacket on and his bag swung over the shoulder. “You all good here? I’m gonna head out.”

“John was just in,” I inform him. “He left his wallet here last night.”

“Oh yeah?” Jeff asks distractedly.

“Yeah, he was here last night after I closed. So if the door was actually left unlocked, which I’m still not convinced that you didn’t unlock it and forget about it…”

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, “I’m not that dumb. Give me some credit.” Not so sure about that, but whatever.

“It was John who left it unlocked then. There, mystery solved.”

“Huh… Weird. Oh well. I’ll catch ya later,” he waves at me briefly and walks out, and I’m just left there, staring at the spot where he just was. Catch ya later??A ‘sorry for being a dick to you for the last hour’ would have been nice, you fucking jackass. Ugh.

#surpriseeee lol #fanfiction #seattle #80s #alice in chains #jerry cantrell #sean kinney #layne staley #mudhoney #mark arm #matt lukin #mother love bone #jeff ament

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rottingspunk · 2 years

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Masterlist

So some of these links go to my main blog @ozzysbloodbat bc I moved a bunch of stuff over here to help separate a lot of stuff I do so this blog is strictly grunge focused so I moved all my gunrge fics/edits to this one.

Long story short my asks are open request for any person on this list

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ᴴᵉʳᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᴹᵃⁿ

ᴱᵈⁱᵗˢ

ᴮˡᵒⁿᵈⁱᵉ ⁻ ᶜᵘʳʳᵉⁿᵗ ᴶᵒʸˢ

ᴶᵉʳʳʸ ᶜᵃⁿᵗʳᵉˡˡ

ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜˢ

ᴸᵃʸⁿᵉ ˢᵗᵃˡᵉʸ

ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᴴᵉᵃʳ ᵀʰᵃᵗ

ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜˢ

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stevenssticks · 6 months

Note

hiii p ok imagine mike / layne & reader.... like a 3some ok.. so like sucking off layne while mike is fucking u from behind and ur just like their fucktoy ok...

these two……. together… what a dream urgghhh

having mikes hands gripping your hips real tight while he’s fucking you hard. letting out these really low groans and grunts, praising you, telling you how good you look like this. you’re too busy with layne in your mouth to respond, sucking hard with your hands on laynes hips to ground him and yourself.

laynes got his head leaned back against the headboard, mouth open and whining while one of his hands is placed in your hair, lightly pushing you up and down. mike would lean over you, pressing his chest to your back. pressing his weight onto one hand, he covers laynes hand that’s still gripping your hand with his, and pushes you hard down on layne, making you choke and struggle against him.

layne cums at the sight of you choking on him, the feeling of your throat constricting around him, and watching mike fuck you mercilessly. spilling down your throat with a loud, drawn out cry.

mike wraps an arm around your middle, letting you pull off layne when he’s done spilling into your throat. his fingers skate down to your clit as layne gains the words to keep praising you while mike loses his composure. his thrusts become sloppy as well as his circles on your clit, and the two of you cum at the same time as mike pulls you upright and spills into your cunt while you gush on him, out of breath and out of your head.

#this was a lot #and fun #asks and replies #p’s thots(^ ^*)#mike starr aic #mike starr #layne staley #aic #alice in chains #alice in chains fanfiction

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fatcoochienergy · 1 year

Text

hello all.

i’ve come to ask if anyone would be interested in grunge ship headcanons

i am by no means a writer but there’s a sore lack of grunge ship fics so i would like to contribute.

it would only be ships within the grunge bands and probably little to no oc stuff and no x reader stuff at all.

#grunge #grunge fanfiction #pearl jam #alice in chains #soundgarden #nirvana #foo fighters #stone gossard #jerry cantrell #layne staley #eddie vedder #mike mccready #jeff ament #oneshot #fic #headcanon

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tenderyellowbluefics · 6 months

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I haven’t written on here in a LOOOONGG time but I wanna come back!! So give me some requests!!! My Eddie Munson phase has long since died so I don’t write for him anymore, but I have some other metalheads I'd love to write about!

I'm mainly interested in writing about James Hetfield and/or Jerry Cantrell right now but I will also accept requests for the following!

Kirk Hammett

Jason Newstead

Sean Kinney

Layne Staley

(Non metal/rock)

Keanu Reeves

Halsey

Rhea Ripley.

If there is someone you reallyyyy want me to write about who isn't on this list, feel free to ask me anyways!! There's a good chance I'll at least give it a shot haha!

What I’ll write?

I’m cool writing fluff, angst, smut all that!

I will NOT write about anything to do with pedophilia, abuse, or incest!

I've been thirsting real hard over James lately so smutty requests for him are encouraged💀

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grunge-fic-hub · 1 year

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Hello grunge-fic community! With the holidays approaching, now is a great time to show some love to the authors who have been working hard and sharing their stories this year! Send them an Ask, drop them a Comment, tell them what you like about their work, your favorite line, your favorite character, whatever you want to say! Compliments from readers is the best gift an author can get!

Happy Grungy Holidays!!!!

youtube

#pearl jam #soundgarden #alice in chains #nirvana #grunge #grunge fic #fan fic #fanfiction #writing

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mancanosempreventicentesimi · 8 months

Text

Capitolo 61 - Camicie, domande e Fonzie con i baffi

Nel capitolo precedente: Jerry va al suo appuntamento al buio e conosce Heather. Sorprendentemente anche lei rivela di non aver voglia di conoscere ragazzi al momento e, rendendosi conto di essere molto simili e nella stessa medesima situazione, convince Jerry a fingere che loro due si frequentino in modo da farsi lasciare in pace dai loro rispettivi amici. Durante un gioco di domande e risposte tra Stone e Grace, i due discutono sul fatto che lei non lo abbia ancora fatto dormire con lei nel suo letto a causa delle sue insicurezze. Alla fine Stone riesce a tranquillizzarla e a convincerla a fare questo passo con lui. Eddie e Angie riescono finalmente a passare una serata insieme, a base di pizza e film horror. Eddie prova ancora a farla ragionare sul film di Cameron Crowe e le rivela che per lui quella è una serata speciale: è passato un mese esatto dal loro primo bacio. Angie si sente in colpa perché non aveva minimamente pensato alla ricorrenza, non essendo abituata a questo tipo di cose nelle sue relazioni passate.

***

He fills me up, he gives me love

More love than I've ever seen

He's all I got, he's all I got in this world

But he's all the man that I need

A un osservatore esterno random questa scena potrebbe sembrare surreale, lo ammetto. Se la mia vita fosse una serie tv e l'episodio di oggi iniziasse con questa scena di stamattina, a me, da spettatrice, scatterebbero mille campanelli d'allarme che vanno da "E' una realtà alternativa frutto di un viaggio nel tempo andato male" a "Come minimo sta per succedere una catastrofe". Perché io che preparo i pancake il mercoledì mattina, ancora in vestaglia nonostante abbia pure lezione tra poco più di un'ora, ballando sulla top 100 alla radio e canticchiando (distruggendo) Whitney Houston non è una cosa che si vede tutti i giorni. Il volume in realtà l'ho alzato per Eddie perché sospetto che l'uomo che io-non-dormo-mai-vivo-di-notte-a-san-diego-facevo-surf-alle-prime-luci-dell'alba non abbia alcuna intenzione di schiodarsi dal letto. Stamattina ho aperto gli occhi prima della mia sveglia killer e ho pensato bene di disattivarla per lasciarlo riposare, ho fatto la doccia più veloce e silenziosa della storia e ora sono qui. Visto che siamo sempre di corsa e ci vediamo a spizzichi e bocconi, mi sembrava una cosa carina preparare una bella colazione per viziarlo un po' e poter passare qualche minuto in più assieme, seduti a un tavolo, parlando e scherzando, anziché dirci come al solito ciao ciao e scappare ognuno per la sua strada. E in questo ci metto anche Meg perché, con la fine della scuola che si avvicina, la storia dei tatuaggi e tutti i lavori paralleli che sta acchiappando per arrotondare, persino fare una chiacchierata con la mia coinquilina sta diventando complesso. Pensavo che il profumo della colazione e del caffè sarebbero bastati a dare a Ed un buongiorno più dolce di quello della mia odiata sveglia, ma mi sbagliavo. Verso un'altra mestolata di impasto nella padella e sorrido quando sento il rumore dell'acqua della doccia, pensando che il mio canto melodioso abbia fatto il suo dovere, ma mi ricredo subito quando sento la voce di Meg che inizia a intonare il coro di Freedom 90. Beh, se non ce l'ho fatta io, ci penserà lei a buttarlo giù dal letto assieme a George Michael.

Prendo il piatto con tutti i pancake e lo metto al centro del tavolo, dove c'è già la bottiglia di sciroppo al cioccolato. Siccome non voglio passare per quella che mangia solo schifezze, decido di recuperare anche un po' di yogurt e frutta, che sui pancake ci sta sempre bene. Mi dirigo verso il frigorifero ballando, non prima di aver urlato Everybody dance now! assieme alla radio, infilo la testa in frigo sculettando e quando chiudo lo sportello per poco non mi viene un infarto e non proietto yogurt e frutti di bosco sul soffitto.

"EDDIE!"

"Ehi" mi fai lui appoggiato allo stipite della porta, assonnato e sorridente.

"CHE CAZZO" mollo tutto sul tavolo al sicuro e riprendo colore.

"Buongiorno anche a te, micetta"

"Micetta un cazzo, appari così dal nulla, mi hai fatto prendere un colpo"

"Perdonami, non volevo spaventarti. E' che beh... eri tutta concentrata nel ballo, non potevo interromperti" spiega con quella faccia da adorabile stronzetto che... niente, ho lezione tra un'ora, non posso pensare a queste cose.

"Da quanto eri lì?"

"Da un po'" è ancora sulla porta della cucina. In boxer e camicia. Ripeto, Angie, NON PUOI PENSARE A QUESTE COSE.

"Potevi trovare una maniera alternativa e più soft di annunciare la tua presenza, no?" torno ai fornelli spenti e fingo di spegnerli, poi mi sposto al lavandino e fingo di armeggiare con qualcos'altro finché non mi sento le sue mani sulle spalle.

"E perdermi questo show? Non sono mica scemo" mi bacia una guancia e poi si appoggia col mento sulla mia spalla destra.

"Lo show ideale per un risveglio traumatico. Attento che ti scotti, è ancora calda" lo avviso quando vedo che allunga le mani sulla padella, forse per metterla a lavare.

"Tanto sono già cotto" mette tutto nel lavandino e poi mi abbraccia da dietro appoggiandosi di nuovo a me.

"Eheheh che?"

"Hai idea di quanto eri sexy?" sussurra allungando queste cazzo di mani.

"Sono sexy in cucina? Ai fornelli? In uno dei ruoli stereotipati in cui il maschilismo più becero imprigiona le donne?" mi volto verso di lui nel tentativo di togliermelo di dosso, ma con scarsi risultati.

"In realtà intendevo ballando in vestaglia, ma onestamente questo è pure meglio, cazzo" scarsissimi visto che ora mi ha artigliato il culo e la sua bocca si sta avvicinando pericolosamente al mio punto debole sul collo.

"Ah quindi... anni di lotte per l'emancipazione della donna ridotte a un feticcio? Femminismo che ha senso di esistere solo per la gratificazione sessuale di te, uomo etero?"

"Piantala o mi tocca scoparti qui e adesso" si allontana dal mio collo giusto il tempo di farmi presente questa cosa all'orecchio, per poi tornare al suo lavoro.

"Eheh tanto non puoi" lo spingo via in maniera forse troppo impulsiva, mi volto di nuovo e inizio a riempire il lavello con acqua per poi prendere il detersivo per i piatti.

"Perché?" e però pure tu Eddie, se continui così non mi aiuti.

"Perché... perché c'è Meg di là..." e ancora con queste mani sui fianchi " E poi dobbiamo mangiare e devo andare a lezione"

"Allora, aspetta," Eddie chiude il rubinetto, mi prende la mano e, spingendomi a una sorta di piroetta, mi obbliga a girarmi ancora verso di lui "punto uno"

"Ahah hai pure i punti già pronti di prima mattina?"

"Sono nato pronto. Punto uno: Meg è di là, non è qui" prima allunga lo sguardo verso la porta, poi lo indirizza di nuovo verso di me e mi fa l'occhiolino.

"Però può arrivare da un momento all'altro" ribatto, ma non sono altrettanto veloce nel contrastare le sue mani, che iniziano a sbottonarmi la vestaglia.

"Basta stare attenti quando sentiamo Mariah Carey che si avvicina" scherza ironizzando sulla canzone che sta cantando adesso.

"E se siamo troppo distratti?" richiudo un bottone, lui me ne sbottona due.

"Punto due:" continua lui infischiandosene delle mie obiezioni "possiamo mangiare dopo"

"Ma dopo che?" si limita ad alzare lo sguardo per sorridermi, senza rispondermi.

"Punto tre: ti do io uno strappo in università così fai prima" e via altri due bottoni.

"Ma-" provo a ribellarmi, in maniera non molto convinta, e lui mi zittisce baciandomi, dolcemente, ma con una certa fermezza, e ora la mia vestaglia è completamente aperta.

"Dai, andiamo di là cinque minuti"

"Non saranno mai cinque minuti, Eddie"

"Scommettiamo?" la vestaglia è a terra e le mani sono sotto la mia maglia del pigiama e minacciano di far volare anche quella, almeno finché un dettaglio non cattura, in ritardo, la mia attenzione.

"Eddie, da-... ehm, scusa, ma cos'hai addosso?"

"Sono troppo vestito, vero? Adesso rimedio subito!" ammicca con le sopracciglia come uno scemo, fa per levarsi la camicia, ma lo blocco.

"No, intendo dire, non vedi cosa ti sei messo addosso? Non ti sei accorto?" inizio a ridere e solo adesso inizia ad avere un piccolo cedimento e a mollare la presa. Ne approfitto per ricompormi e recuperare la vestaglia da terra.

"Cos'è? Me la sono messa alla rovescia?" si guarda la camicia senza capire, e poi guarda me, imbronciato, quando mi rimetto la vestaglia.

"No, è dritta, ma è la mia, non vedi?" svelo accarezzandogli il petto con la scusa (anch'io però!) di indicare i taschini sulla parte anteriore della mia camicia a quadri, molto simile alla sua "La tua non ha questi"

"Oh cazzo, si vede che nel rincoglionimento del risveglio ho preso la tua anziché la mia, si assomigliano"

"Come hai fatto a non accorgertene? Non vedi che è da donna? I bottoni sono al contrario" gliene chiudo due e nel farlo constato quanto gli stia comoda la mia camicia. Molto, troppo comoda. Ci balla dentro. E' ovvio che non se ne sia accorto, se fossi una taglia 40 non ci sarebbe entrato neanche un suo braccio in questa cazzo di camicia. Invece no, non ci ha fatto caso, perché la sua ragazza è un peso massimo, doveva capirlo per il motivo opposto e cioè che ci sta dentro due volte.

"Ah! Ecco perché non riuscivo a chiuderla, cazzo! Mi sentivo scemo, per un attimo ho pensato di essere fatto o di avere un aneurisma o qualcosa del genere ahahahah"

"Tu non stai bene" scuoto la testa e prendo i piatti da sistemare sul tavolo, dandogli le spalle per evitare che veda la mia faccia, rabbuiata a causa dei pensieri di prima. Perché il mio cervello deve sempre rovinare i momenti migliori?

"Va beh, comunque è comoda e sa di te, penso la terrò. Posso?" mi giro incredula e quando lo guardo prende i lembi della camicia e se li chiude stretti sul petto, mimando un abbraccio, poi appoggia il naso al tessuto della manica e si finge inebriato dal mio profumo, emettendo un plateale sospiro soddisfatto.

"Da quale cazzo di commedia romantica sei uscito, me lo spieghi?" lo guardo perplessa e dentro di me lo ringrazio per avermi fatto dimenticare in un secondo i miei pensieri negativi del cazzo.

"Io non sono romantico e non faccio ridere" replica serissimo.

"E comunque il cliché dovrebbe essere al contrario: in qualsiasi romanzo rosa che si rispetti è la tipa che si alza al mattino e si mette la camicia o le magliette di lui, che ovviamente se ne compiace"

"E da quando in qua rispetti i cliché di genere? E' sempre e solo l'occhio maschile a dover essere compiaciuto?" si appoggia all'indietro al ripiano della cucina e così facendo i lembi della camicia si allargano di nuovo.

"Piantala o mi tocca... uhm... saltarti addosso qui e adesso" semicito la sua battuta di prima.

"Disse lei, dandomi un ottimo motivo per non piantarla" Eddie si riavvicina con fare minaccioso (sì, va beh...), ma stavolta gli va male e penso di non aver mai amato e odiato allo stesso tempo Mariah Carey così tanto come adesso.

"Somedaaay Hey Heeeey! Oh ciao ragazzi, buongiorno" Meg fa il suo ingresso in cucina e non so se non si accorge di me e Eddie perché la sua attenzione è tutta sul tavolo imbandito o se fa semplicemente finta.

"Ciao"

"Buongiorno Meg" io e Eddie ci allontaniamo come due calamite messe l'una davanti all'altra, Eddie si gira a cercare di allacciare i restanti bottoni della camicia, seppur al contrario, mentre io mi dedico alla distribuzione dei pancake nei piatti.

"Ho interrotto qualcosa?" mi correggo, se n'è accorta e non fa nemmeno finta di no, mentre spreme il cioccolato sui suoi pancake.

"Sì, un dibattito sul femminismo" Eddie mi dà un bacio volante sulla guancia e si siede a tavola.

"Non ce la fate a flirtare come le coppie normali, eh?" Meg mi strizza l'occhio mentre mi siedo anch'io, rassegnata ai suoi commenti.

"Non siamo normali presi singolarmente, figurati come coppia" osserva Eddie e non ha tutti i torti. Anche lui va sullo sciroppo di cioccolato, quindi l'unica a dare un po' di soddisfazione allo yogurt sarò io, ovviamente.

"Comunque quand'è che gli chiedi di trasferirsi qui?" Meg prima guarda me e poi, stavolta, l'occhiolino è per Eddie.

"Che??"

"Così prepari la colazione figa tutte le mattine"

"Se vuoi i pancake basta chiederli, non serve tirare in mezzo Eddie" borbotto mentre lui e Meg se la ridono sotto i baffi a spese mie.

"Hai chiamato Crowe?" Meg mi rifila un'altra stoccata quando è a metà del suo piatto ed è chiaro che stamattina sono il suo bersaglio preferito.

"No, non l'ho chiamato"

"E quando lo chiami?"

"Beh, non lo so, io-"

"Se vuoi ci penso io," Eddie mi salva in tutti i sensi, intervenendo nella conversazione e versandomi un altro po' di caffè nella tazza mezza vuota "glielo dico io quando lo vedo"

"Gli dici che Angie accetta?!" Meg rimane con la forchetta a mezz'aria davanti alla bocca aperta e sta per avere un'amara sorpresa.

"Veramente, no. Cioè, avevo capito di no, o forse sbaglio?" Eddie guarda alternativamente la mia coinquilina e me.

"No, non sbagli, come ti avevo già detto, ho deciso di rifiutare" lo rassicuro e mi preparo all'inferno.

"E PERCHE' CAZZO?" Meg fa cadere la forchetta nel piatto e mi guarda con rimprovero.

"Perché già lo sai, non è roba per me"

"E tu non le dici niente?" Eddie, che evidentemente ha apprezzato i miei sforzi culinari perché ha già spazzolato tutto, temporeggia qualche secondo con il tovagliolo sulla bocca prima di parlare.

"Ehm? Io? Perché? Che dovrei dire?"

"Come che devi dire?! Convincila, no?" Meg guarda entrambi come se fossimo degli idioti.

"Beh, ne abbiamo parlato. Personalmente penso sia un'ottima occasione, ma se Angie non se la sente, non se la sente. Non voglio metterle pressione o cose del genere" Eddie si alza, sistema il piatto nel lavello assieme alla tazza, dopo aver finito il suo caffè.

"Io invece ce la metto eccome la pressione, a parte che senza una spintarella esterna non faresti mai un cazzo di niente, non saresti nemmeno qui! E poi penso tu stia facendo una grossa cazzata a dire di no! E dovresti dirglielo anche tu, se ci tieni a lei" la mia amica scalpita sulla sedia, non si aspettava di trovarsi in minoranza.

"Ci tengo e proprio perché ci tengo voglio che sia libera di scegliere cosa fare. Se facesse il film solo per farci contenti, sarebbe inutile. Almeno io la penso così." Eddie espone la sua tesi per poi avvicinarsi di nuovo a me e darmi un altro bacio, rapido, sulle labbra "Vado a fare la doccia e vestirmi. Con i vestiti giusti, stavolta"

Lo guardo sognante mentre esce dalla cucina e si allontana, finché non incrocio lo sguardo interrogativo di Meg di fronte a me.

"Eheh è perché ha sbagliato camicia, si è messo la mia al posto della sua, perché al buio gli sembravano uguali eheh"

"Non è questa la spiegazione che cerco"

"In che senso?"

"Cosa gli hai detto?"

"A chi?"

"A Eddie? Per renderlo improvvisamente così attento a non urtare la tua sensibilità, cosa gli hai detto?" incrocia le braccia e mi guarda con sfida.

"Cosa ti fa credere che io gli abbia detto qualcosa?"

"Ti conosco. E, anche se un po' meno, conosco anche lui"

"Non può essere che semplicemente pensi quello che ha detto?"

"No. Non lo pensava quando ti ha obbligato a giocare a basket con la band, suonare la batteria alla festa di Cameron, salire sullo Space Needle, limonare davanti a un locale intero per due ore, non vedo perché dovrebbe aver cambiato idea adesso, a meno che tu non sia intervenuta in qualche maniera" Meg conta aggressivamente le mie imprese sulle dita.

"Non hai intenzione di finire i tuoi pancake?"

"No, non ti darò la minima soddisfazione culinaria finché non parli" e lo sa che la cosa mi da molto fastidio, sta usando le maniere forti.

"Ma non ho niente da dire"

"Che gli hai detto?"

"Niente"

"Che gli hai detto davvero?"

"Ahahah NIENTE!"

"Gli hai promesso dei favori sessuali?"

"E' il mio ragazzo, ha già i miei favori, non c'è bisogno che io glieli prometta"

"Favori un po' più trasgressivi dei soliti?"

"No!"

"E allora parla oppure questi pancake finiscono nel cestino" Meg prende il piatto, si alza e si piazza davanti alla pattumiera.

"Non ne avresti il coraggio"

"Scommettiamo?" mantenendo il contatto visivo con me, allunga il piede sul pedale lentamente, dopodiché con uno scatto fa aprire il coperchio.

"Va beh, non è che gli abbia detto una cosa specifica..."

"HA! Qualcosa gli hai detto, allora?" il coperchio si richiude, ma lei non si sposta.

"Gli ho parlato del fatto che non sarei a mio agio nel ruolo di attrice"

"Mmmm"

"E che avrei avuto troppe battute"

"E poi?"

"Che la presenza di Tim Burton mi avrebbe messa in difficoltà"

"Ok"

"E che sarei stata ipercritica e non avrei mai più voluto vedere quel film se io ci fossi stata dentro.. Anzi, che magari per il trauma non mi sarei più avvicinata a un set"

"Solo questo?" il piedino di Meg punta ancora sul pedale della pattumiera.

"Solo? Praticamente gli ho detto che avrebbe potuto mettere a rischio la mia intera carriera"

"Ok. E poi, che altro gli hai detto?" Meg non molla e ormai lo sento che sto per capitolare, non ho altra scelta.

"E beh, potrei aver aggiunto dei dettagli di trama..."

"ECCO. Parlami di questi dettagli" Meg ha capito di avermi finalmente in pugno e torna a sedersi a tavola, appoggiando il piatto davanti a sé.

"Potrei avergli detto che, scorrendo rapidamente il copione, avevo intravisto qualcosa che non mi andava di fare"

"Che cazzo ti sei inventata, Angie?" la mia amica scuote la testa e impugna di nuovo la forchetta.

"Non ho inventato niente! Gli ho solo detto che a un certo punto mi è sembrato di vedere una scena con..."

"Con...?"

"Con un bacio"

"UN BACIO?!"

"Un bacio, molto lungo"

"AHAHAHAHAH SEI PROPRIO UNA STRONZA!" Meg non si trattiene e ride tenendosi la pancia.

"Guarda che è vero! Il bacio c'è! Ce ne sono diversi! Solo, ehm, non esattamente nella mia scena"

"CHE BASTARDA!"

"E da quando ho accennato questa cosa a Eddie, è diventato improvvisamente molto comprensivo delle mie insicurezze"

"MA VA?! Chissà come mai?" Meg si ributta sui pancake, non prima di averci messo un altro po' di cioccolato.

"Non gli dirai niente, vero?"

"Guarda, sarei tentata perché per me sei fuori a rifiutare una parte nel film e tirerei in mezzo chiunque per convincerti, ma..."

"Ma?"

"Ma ammiro troppo la tua perfidia in questa cosa per farti sgamare"

"Io non sono perfida!"

"No, sei solo una piccola manipolatrice in erba che usa astutamente una debolezza altrui per il suo tornaconto... La mia Angie sta crescendo! Potrei quasi mettermi a piangere" Meg finge commozione e si asciuga delle finte lacrime con tovagliolo.

"Ahaha non ho manipolato Eddie"

"Hai usato la sua gelosia per fargli fare quello che volevi tu, come me lo chiami?"

"Ho solo fatto un discorso andando a toccare alcune corde..."

"Le corde giuste!" Meg si alza e mette il piatto nel lavandino assieme al resto.

"Non capisco se stai cercando di far leva sulla mia coscienza per portarmi a dire la verità a Eddie e accettare la parte o se apprezzi davvero la mia piccola manovra disonesta"

"Mmm un po' tutt'e due!" Meg esce dalla cucina e recupera giacca e borsa, io la raggiungo sulla porta "Comunque, alla fine, anche se manipolato, ha ragione Eddie: sei tu a decidere. E' che a me sarebbe piaciuto potermela tirare un po' in giro e dire Ehi, la mia amica è in quel film!"

"Metà della gente che conosci sarà in quel film. Comunque, quando sarò un'autrice di successo potrai dire Ehi, quello l'ha scritto la mia amica!"

"Non vedo l'ora! Va beh, ci vediamo stasera da Roxy"

"Ok, ciao"

"Mi hai seguita per salutarmi o per accertarmi che non vada da Eddie a spifferare tutto?"

"Ahahahahah per salutarti! Non lo faresti mai. Almeno, non adesso che è sotto la doccia"

"Mah, se volessi potrei anche, tanto quella gelosa nella coppia non sei tu" mi fa l'occhiolino ed apre la porta.

"Ciao Meg"

"E poi l'ho già visto in mutande, ormai" fa per allontanarsi, ma torna indietro.

"CIAO" le chiudo la porta in faccia per scherzo e lei la tiene aperta con un piede.

"E per me i ragazzi delle amiche sono tutti donne"

"VAI CHE E' TARDI, A STASERA!"

Il tarlo che Meg ha provato a mettermi in testa sul mio tiro mancino nei confronti di Eddie non fa neanche in tempo a insinuarsi nei miei pensieri quando il telefono inizia a squillare.

"Pronto"

"..." dall'altra parte, nulla.

"Pronto?" ripeto ed effettivamente mi sembra di sentire dei rumori attraverso il ricevitore. Più che linea disturbata, mi dà l'idea di qualcuno in attesa in silenzio con la cornetta in mano.

"C'è qualcuno o no?" nel momento in cui percepisco chiaramente un respiro mi raggelo. Mi guardo attorno per capire dove sia Eddie, perché non sento più il rumore dell'acqua, ma non lo vedo in giro. Vado a sbirciare in camera mia e non c'è, quindi probabilmente ha finito la doccia, ma è ancora in bagno.

"Sei tu?"

"..." ancora niente.

"Hai bisogno? Ti servono soldi?" chiedo a bassa voce, ma senza avere alcuna risposta, se non una brusca chiusura della telefonata.

Espiro profondamente, come se avessi trattenuto il fiato da un po', e forse è stato proprio così. Mollo il telefono sul tavolo, prendo il mio piatto e lo metto nel lavandino assieme a tutto il resto. Butto un occhio all'orologio. No, adesso non faccio in tempo, li laverò oggi pomeriggio. Un nuovo squillo del telefono mi fa sobbalzare, lo guardo per un po' senza fare niente, ma poi mi decido a rispondere, se non altro per evitare che Eddie si insospettisca ed esca a vedere che succede e perché nessuno risponde al telefono.

"PRONTO?!"

"Ehi, buongiorno anche a te! Cos'è, ci siamo svegliate con la luna storta stamattina?" la risposta dall'altra parte, stavolta, mi mette di tutt'altro umore.

"Ciao mamma! No, tutto ok"

"Insomma, sembrava volessi sbranare chiunque fosse dall'altro capo del telefono..."

"No è che... c'è qualcuno che si diverte a fare scherzi telefonici stamattina. Chiamano e non parlano, senza neanche un po' di fantasia, almeno si inventassero qualcosa"

"Della serie, se dovete rompere le scatole, almeno usate la creatività"

"Esatto"

"Va beh, come stai? Scusa se ti chiamo presto, ma almeno sono sicura di trovarti"

"No problem, hai fatto bene. Anzi, diciamo che mi hai trovata per un pelo perché tra poco devo andare a lezione" vado in camera mia a prendere i vestiti da mettermi, in attesa che Eddie esca dal bagno.

"Ecco, appunto. Finirà che dovrò prendere un appuntamento per parlare al telefono con te"

"Tranquilla, ho ancora tempo, possiamo avere la nostra appagante conversazione madre-figlia"

"Allora appaga la mia curiosità? Come stai? Come sono andate le vacanze?"

"Bene, ho lavorato un sacco!"

"Peccato si chiamino vacanze..."

"Va beh, mi sono anche riposata e ho fatto un sacco di cose che avevo in sospeso da una vita! Ho sbrinato il frigo, ho pulito i lampadari, ho lavato tutti i tappeti..." torno in corridoio mentre ripercorro tutte le tappe delle grandi pulizie di casa Pacifico-McDonald.

"Che strano concetto di riposo"

"Uff, sono uscita con Meg e gli altri, non sono stata in casa tutto il giorno"

"Non avevo dubbi. E come sta Eddie?"

"Eddie sta-" mi ha quasi presa in contropiede "Perché mi chiedi di Eddie? E soprattutto, come fai a conoscerlo?" già, come fai a conoscere il tizio che è appena uscito dal bagno coperto solo da un corto asciugamano legato non benissimo in vita che potrebbe cadere da un momento all'altro e che mi ha fatto l'occhiolino prima di infilarsi in camera mia.

"Oh me ne ha parlato tuo padre!"

"Te ne ha parlato?" infilarsi in camera senza chiudere la porta. L'asciugamano prende il volo e... NO, ANGIE, NON HAI TEMPO E SEI AL TELEFONO CON TUA MADRE.

"Sì, cioè, mi ha detto che hai un amico che si chiama Eddie e che l'ha conosciuto"

"E' successo mesi fa, perché mi chiedi dei miei amici adesso?" e perché proprio di Eddie, sarebbe la vera domanda. Ma non voglio calcare troppo la mano e insospettirla.

"No, è che sto guardando le foto che aveva fatto tuo padre quando è venuto a trovarti..."

"Ah, le famose foto che io non ho ancora visto" mi chiudo a chiave in bagno e metto in vivavoce, così posso lavarmi i denti nel frattempo.

"Eh perché le ha sviluppate solo adesso! Perdonalo, è stato presissimo col lavoro, l'ho visto anch'io a malapena"

"Lo so, lo so, è che mi aveva detto che me le avrebbe spedite"

"Infatti, sta andando giusto stamattina a spedirtele. Che poi sarebbe il motivo per cui ti ho chiamato, per dirti proprio questo"

"Oh perfetto! Ringrazialo"

"E...niente, siccome ho proprio davanti una foto di te con Eddie, mi è venuto in mente. Così"

"Così a caso"

"Certo. Comunque, come sta?" benissimo, ha passato la notte con me e adesso è nudo in camera mia.

"Bene! Da quello che so, almeno. Insomma, la band sta registrando l'album, non li vedo spesso come prima" brava, plurale, Angie, vai di plurale.

"Ma prima mi hai detto che sei uscita con gli altri durante le vacanze di primavera"

"Sì, certo, ma adesso è un po' che non li vedo. Comunque sono contenti, Stone mi ha detto che tutto sta procedendo bene" usare Stone come diversivo per distogliere l'attenzione da Eddie sarà stata una mossa azzeccata?

"Ah! Allora Stone l'hai visto più di Eddie!" no, non è azzeccata per un cazzo.

"Li ho visti alla stessa maniera, mamma, non farti strane idee, pensavo di essere stata abbastanza chiara a Natale" sbuffo e inizio a levarmi vestaglia e pigiama.

"Chiarissima! Va beh, sappi che le foto sono molto belle, adesso ti passo papà che ti deve dire una cosa"

"Ok?" mio padre? Che mi deve dire? Non vorrà chiedermi anche lui di Eddie, così, a caso.

"Ciao Angie, chiama tu la prossima volta, così non ti disturbo, va bene?"

"Non ti sarai offesa perché mi sto preparando mentre ti parlo?" mi vesto velocemente, l'unica cosa che non ho preso sono gli stivali, ma posso metterli dopo.

"No, ma chiama! Va beh, ti passo tuo padre"

"Ciao"

"Ehi Angie!"

"Ciao papà"

"Oggi ti mando tutte le foto di quando sono venuto da te, scusami, ma è stato un casino. E' da una settimana che vivo in camera oscura praticamente"

"Non ti preoccupare. Come sono venute?" metto il pigiama nella cesta del bucato, mi butto la vestaglia sulla spalla e, col telefono ancora in vivavoce in mano, esco dal bagno

"Ah benissimo! Sia quelle dei concerti sia quelle della festa in spiaggia, c'è un bel pacchetto pronto per essere spedito"

"Ecco adesso esci dalla camera oscura e stai un po' con mamma" quando entro in camera non perdo tempo, appoggio la vestaglia sulla sedia e corro a tappare la bocca a Eddie prima che possa emettere qualsiasi suono.

"Tranquilla!"

"Volevi dirmi qualcos'altro? La mamma mi aveva già detto tutto delle foto" quando sono sicura che abbia capito e mi fa un cenno con la testa, mollo la presa sulla bocca di Eddie e vado a sedermi sul letto per mettermi gli stivali, dandogli le spalle.

"Sì, volevo chiederti: conosci i Nirvana?"

"Sì, sono una band di queste parti, li ho anche visti due volte in concerto"

"Non come band, li conosci di persona?"

"Ehm beh, non proprio"

"In che senso? Li conosci o no?"

"Li conosco di vista! Più che altro il batterista..." ma cazzo, come mi escono?? Mi giro di scatto e vedo Eddie che si è bloccato con la mano sulla cerniera dei pantaloni e mi guarda male "e il bassista ci ho scambiato due parole, il cantante so chi è ma finisce lì"

"Perché loro ti conoscono"

"Che? E tu che ne sai?" perché sento che non sta per dirmi niente di buono? E perché cazzo ho tenuto il vivavoce? Ormai non posso toglierlo o sembrerebbe che voglio nascondere le cose a Eddie.

"Hanno suonato qui a Boise qualche giorno fa"

"Davvero?"

"Al The Zoo" quelli del management devono aver pensato si trattasse del vero zoo e volevano spedirci Kurt, sicuramente è così.

"E tu ci sei andato? Ma non eri pieno di lavoro?" dopo attimi eterni io riprendo ad allacciarmi gli stivali ed Eddie si chiude finalmente la patta.

"Sai come si dice, Troppo lavoro e niente divertimento..."

"Seh, e poi finisci a rincorrere la tua famiglia con un accetta"

"Appunto. Comunque gran concerto, energia pura! Ho fatto poche foto purtroppo. Il giorno dopo mi sono comprato il disco. Ne hanno fatte anche alcune nuove dall'album che deve ancora uscire"

"E cosa c'entro io in tutto questo?" se ha offerto da bere pure a Dave, giuro che urlo. Che cazzo è? Mio padre ha una specie di radar per i miei ex adesso? E ne deve parlare proprio ora con Eddie in ascolto?

"Oh perché a un certo punto sul palco il cantante ha detto una cosa sul fatto che era la prima volta che suonavano in Idaho e che finora non conoscevano nessuno di queste parti, tranne una ragazza che è proprio della nostra città. E ha detto che dovrà trovare un altro soprannome alla sua amica, ma è stato un discorso veloce e piuttosto criptico, tra un pezzo e l'altro. Tu ne sai niente?"

"Mmm non ne ho la più pallida idea onestamente" Eddie mi guarda e scoppia a ridere, io gli faccio segno di tacere e lui si copre la faccia con le mani.

"Ma sei tu l'amica, no?"

"Non credo proprio," io amica di quello lì?? Piuttosto mi cavo gli occhi a mani nude "chissà di chi parlava, ci sarà altra gente di Boise che si è trasferita a Seattle, non sono così speciale, sai?"

"Per quello ti ho chiesto se li conoscevi..."

"Sì, ma solo di vista e mica sanno di dove sono, non sanno nemmeno come mi chiamo eheh" Eddie si scopre la faccia e fa un verso come per dire Sì, come no!

"Oh va beh, allora è solo una coincidenza"

"Certo che sì"

"Ok, ora ti lascio. Vado alla posta e poi in redazione"

"D'accordo. Ciao e buon lavoro"

"E salutami Meg"

"Va bene"

"E Eddie" Eddie mi guarda ed esplode in un sorriso a cento denti, mentre fa ciao con la manina in direzione del telefono.

"Va- perché Eddie?"

"Così, mi è venuto in mente"

"Fammi indovinare: è la prima foto che ti è capitata davanti, vero?" bene, ora Eddie penserà che a casa mia ci sia un altarino con una sua foto, fiori e candele davanti a cui i miei genitori pregano tutte le mattine.

"Eheh in effetti sì, salutamelo quando lo vedi, è un bravo ragazzo"

"Sarà fatto. Ciao papà"

"Ciao Ray" risponde Eddie non appena ho messo giù.

"Se ti facevi sentire ti uccidevo!"

"La solita esagerata..." vestito di tutto punto, viene a sedersi di fianco a me sul letto.

"Ha! Non ci provare, è tardi e dobbiamo volare all'università"

"Non so di cosa stai parlando, volevo solo prendere questo" tutto strafottente, allunga le mani sotto il letto e tira fuori il suo zaino.

"Certo"

"Sono un bravo ragazzo io"

"Va beh, se il bravo ragazzo è pronto, è ora di andare"

"Ok, andiamo"

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

"Come si dice Posso avere il tuo numero in svizzero?"

"Non esiste lo svizzero, Mike" la ragazza dello staff ha aperto appena la porta dei camerini, giusto il tempo per dirci Soundcheck in zehn Minuten, e quel coglione si è già innamorato.

"Come non esiste? E allora che cazzo di lingua parlano in questo paese?"

"Dove siamo adesso, cioè Zurigo, tedesco" mi limito al concetto chiave, abbiamo un soundcheck da fare e non ho voglia di spiegare al mio bassista il multilinguismo elvetico.

"Ok, come si dice in tedesco?"

"Chiediglielo in inglese, vedrai che ti capiscono lo stesso" Layne si alza e fa cenno a Starr, l'unico seduto, di fare altrettanto e seguirlo.

"Tutto il mondo parla inglese" sentenzia Sean il saggio.

"Dovresti averlo imparato, dopo la figura di merda dell'altra sera a Düsseldorf" Layne apre la porta del camerino ed esce, seguito a ruota da noi, ricordando il simpatico teatrino dell'altro ieri nel quale abbiamo quasi rischiato la vita per colpa di Mike. Un tipico lunedì sera degli Alice in Chains, insomma.

"ANCORA? Sentite, ho fatto un cazzo di commento in un cazzo di bar pieno di gente, pensavo mi aveste sentito a malapena voi, figuriamoci quei tizi!" Mike non ha tutti i torti, in quel bar karaoke c'era un casino assurdo. Non so come cazzo ci siamo finiti, penso che semplicemente fosse la fonte di alcol più vicina sulla strada tra il locale del concerto e il posto dove dormivamo. Eravamo tutti belli pieni quando un tipo in giacca di pelle e occhiali da sole, dopo aver distrutto The show must go on, ci è passato di fianco proprio mentre Mike ne coglieva un'inaspettata somiglianza.

"L'abbiamo pensato tutti che non somigliava per un cazzo a Freddie Mercury, ma ce lo siamo tenuto per noi, anziché urlarlo ai quattro venti!"

"Ma era troppo lui, cazzo! Era Fonzie coi baffi! Che poi, volendo dire, che cazzo ho detto di male? Mica gli ho dato del coglione"

"A dire il vero le parole esatte sono state Quel coglione, più che Freddie Mercury, sembra Fonzie con i baffi ah ah ah"

"Va beh, lui ha sentito solo la seconda parte"

"E meno male, se no lui e i suoi amici ci avrebbero preso a calci fin dentro all'albergo, anziché fermarsi fuori"

Arriviamo sul palco e attacchiamo con le prove senza perderci in altre chiacchiere. Siamo qui per suonare quattro canzoni davanti a un paio di migliaia di persone a cui non frega un cazzo di noi e che non vedono l'ora che ci leviamo dalle palle per potersi godere il concerto dei Megadeth, di cui siamo il gruppo spalla. Ma per noi è vita cazzo, suonare è suonare, basta che ci mettano su un palco e lo facciamo con chiunque e davanti a qualsiasi pubblico. Voglio dire, abbiamo aperto per tutti, dai fottuti Poison a Iggy Pop solo nel giro di un anno. In questo io e Andy eravamo davvero sulla stessa lunghezza d'onda, mi ricordo le nottate passate a fantasticare sui nostri futuri concerti immaginari negli stadi e nei templi del rock. "Madison Square Garden? Ci vado pure con i cazzo di Warrant pur di suonarci!" mi sembra ancora di sentirlo. Quanto cazzo mi manca? Beh, almeno i Megadeth mi piacciono anche se magari io non piaccio né a loro né ai loro fan. Siamo alla quarta data di questo tour europeo e ancora non abbiamo neanche scambiato una parola. Diciamo che non li abbiamo quasi nemmeno visti. E la gente? Beh, se è sono freddini va anche bene, quando va male ci tirano la merda sul palco. Se ci fosse Angie ci suggerirebbe di montare una rete protettiva come nei Blues Brothers... Ecco, meno male che il soundcheck è finito perché mi sta salendo la malinconia e ho bisogno di una birra, cazzo. Usciamo e senza parlare andiamo tutti nella stessa direzione, dritti verso il bar più vicino, sperando non sia karaoke pure questo. Quando vedo una cabina telefonica sull'altro lato della strada però, non posso fare a meno di attivarmi e fare una piccola deviazione.

"Devo... ehm devo fare una telefonata, ci vediamo dopo"

"Non puoi chiamare dalla stanza, scusa?"

"Oh no, Mike, perché il signorino non vuole farsi sentire, mi sembra ovvio!" Sean è già pronto sui blocchi di partenza della presa per il culo del sottoscritto.

"Ma chi devi chiamare? La stessa tipa di ieri?"

"Di ieri e dell'altro ieri..." continua il batterista.

"Ma i fatti vostri, mai?"

"E chi è questa tizia? Non ce lo dici?"

"Layne la conosce, è un'amica di Dem" Kinney è super informato sui fatti, come immaginavo Layne si è trattenuto, ma non fino in fondo e ha lasciato trapelare il minimo. Bene.

"Io coltivo la nobile arte del farsi i cazzi propri, quindi non so un bel niente"

"Bravo Layne!" dò una pacca sulla spalla al mio compare e faccio per allontanarmi di nuovo.

"Bravo un cazzo, noi siamo preoccupati per te!"

"Parla per te, io sono tranquillissimo e voglio solo andare a bere" e anche questo era prevedibile da parte di Sean. Ormai potrei scrivere io le parti di tutti nei nostri dialoghi, li conosco come le mie tasche.

"Non dargli retta, tu sei nostro fratello! Ne sei appena uscito per miracolo, dal disastro con Angie intendo, e adesso vai a rinfognarti in un'ennesima storia seria con un'altra??"

"Chi ti ha detto che è una storia seria?"

"Se vale tre chiamate intercontinentali, per me è seria"

"Ma sì, è una che ha appena conosciuto, è fresca e se la vuole tenere buona, no?"

"Vedo che sapete già tutto quindi non ho altro da aggiungere, ci vediamo dopo" mi allontano tra i versi e i fischi dei miei compari e li vedo procedere trascinandosi verso il bar dall'interno della cabina.

Prendo l'agendina dalla tasca interna della giacca e ovviamente la apro alla prima pagina, alla lettera A. Lo so che dovrei continuare a sfogliare, ma non ce la faccio, è come se mi bloccassi, come se andassi in corto circuito per qualche secondo. Infilo penso l'equivalente del nostro ingaggio di stasera in monete nel telefono e compongo il numero sbagliato di proposito. Che ore saranno adesso? Tipo le 9, le 10 del mattino, magari non è nemmeno a casa.

"Pronto" e invece c'è, cazzo.

"Pronto?" ripete e a quel punto realizzo che non ho parlato, perché in realtà mi sembrava di averle risposto e averle detto che sono io e che sono in una pausa tra soundcheck e concerto e che l'ho chiamata perché, tanto per cambiare, stavo pensando a lei.

"C'è qualcuno o no?" mi sembra di sentirmi mentre le racconto di Fonzie coi baffi, della più che necessaria rete sul palco, di Mike che ieri sera stava per abbordare una che gli ha detto che era al terzo anno di Gymnasium, pensando volesse dire che era una patita della palestra, prima che lo salvassi spiegandogli che era una cazzo di liceale.

"Sei tu?" vado in panico perché mi sono fatto sgamare come un coglione. Dopotutto, chi altri potrebbe chiamarla per poi fare scena muta? Oltretutto dall'estero... Sono proprio uno stronzo.

"Hai bisogno? Ti servono soldi?" a quel punto è come se mi risvegliassi da una specie di ipnosi del cazzo e attacco il telefono di botto. Soldi? Perché Angie dovrebbe pensare che la chiamo per soldi? La riposta è semplice: non mi ha sgamato per niente e pensava fossi qualcun altro. Ma chi? Chi potrebbe chiamarla al mattino chiedendole del denaro? In che razza di casino si è cacciata? Quando esco dalla cabina telefonica mi viene in mente che mi sono dimenticato di chiamare Heather come avevamo concordato, ma dopotutto che importa? I ragazzi pensano che io l'abbia fatto, alla fine è il gesto che conta. Raggiungo la band al bancone del bar con la testa piena di domande.

Le domande mi girano in testa fino al concerto e anche dopo. Alla fine lo show non va per niente male, a parte qualche monetina indolore, il pubblico ha reagito anche bene. Si vede che gli svizzeri sono più educati! E sono stato smentito due volte stasera perché, appena scesi dal palco, siamo stati subito intercettati da David Elleffson e Marty Friedman dei Megadeth che si sono complimentati con noi, confessando che non avevano idea di chi cazzo fossimo prima di sentirci e che secondo loro spacchiamo i culi, anche se il nostro nome non gli suona granché bene. Abbiamo passato la serata tutti insieme a tazzare, fumare e sparare stronzate, loro soprattutto perché a un certo punto Marty ha detto che ci vogliono proporre come band di apertura per il mega tour che faranno con Slayer e Anthrax una volta tornati a casa e secondo me era la droga a parlare. Non che non ce lo meriteremmo, anzi! Boh, io resto a guardare e vediamo che succede, sarebbe una figata, ma non voglio farmi i film per niente, preferisco vivermela giorno per giorno. Ma chi ti chiama per chiederti soldi di prima mattina? Magari è solo un'amica in difficoltà che Angie sta aiutando perché lei deve sempre aiutare tutti? O forse no...

#pearl jam fanfiction #grunge fanfiction #fanfiction in italiano #eddie vedder #pearl jam #alice in chains #jerry cantrell #layne staley #sean kinney #mike starr #aic

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