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golden-gypsy · 4 months

Text

Blue

Pearl Jam fanfic

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

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

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

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

Eddie Vedder x ofc

☆☆☆☆☆

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

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

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

Eddie didn't belong here either.

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

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

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

Mike didn't belong here either.

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

She had a feeling though…

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

She knew she didn't belong here.

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

She didn't mind the guitar so much anymore.

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

Something strangely familiar.

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

She couldn't remember a time without Eddie.

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

Because they didn't belong here.

None of them did.

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

“Oceans.”

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

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

“When?”

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

“I don't think I'll ever see it.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You've got freckles.”

“What?”

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

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

“It's cute.”

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

“I'm hungry.”

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

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

“Out in the open?”

“It's far-off from the road.”

“Do you think we'll be okay?”

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

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

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

“Um, yeah. What do you wanna hear?”

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

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

She didn't mind the guitar so much anymore.

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

But…

She didn't recall a time before Eddie.

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

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

She wondered what she'd dream of tonight.

She actually kind of liked the guitar now.

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

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

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

“I don't need a lot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Emmy?”

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

“You're already awake?”

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

“Not long enough.”

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

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

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

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

She wanted him to stay.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

“I'm not.”

“You should relax.”

“I am,” she countered.

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

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

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

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

She could also see him running in at full speed.

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

“Of course.”

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

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

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

They didn't belong here.

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

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

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

A family…

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

And he did…

And he did.

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

“Me too.”

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

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

Could Eddie feel it too?

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

“I had a bad dream.”

Mike.

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

Maybe Eddie did feel it too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was where Eddie belonged.

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

“You did?”

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

And that's what she wanted.

She wanted to belong.

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

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

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

Her dream…

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

Or maybe the next…

The last hill.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And she realized that maybe she should.

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

They were almost like her family.

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

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

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

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

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

Not something though.

Someone.

Two someones rocking on a swing on the front porch.

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

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

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

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

“Yup,” the one with the cigarette replied.

What was his name?

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

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

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

Stone. His name was Stone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She hoped she could remember.

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

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

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

And his name was Jeff.

She knew that now.

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

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

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

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

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

“I have to go in.”

“Why?”

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

She had to go in.

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

“What?”

“Oceans.”

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

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

And he did…

And he did.

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

That's where he belonged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

It should have been water.

But, the signs were all there.

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

Why did she have to let him go?

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

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

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

And then, he was gone.

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Um…”

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

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

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

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

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

No, it wasn't right at all.

She didn't belong here.

Eddie didn't belong here either.

#pearl jam fanfiction #pearl jam fanfic #eddie vedder fanfiction #eddie vedder fanfic #bandfic #grunge fanfiction #eddie vedder x ofc #mike mccready - small part #yes hes a kid #stone gossard - small part #jeff ament - small part #grunge fanfic

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4birds-of-a-feather · 1 year

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Chapter 27 - Wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight (when it’s exactly twelve o’clock that night) [part 6]

Birds Of a Feather

Look who Monty the cat dragged in! Hope you guys are fine and are gonna enjoy this, let us know what you think about it ✨

(In the previous chapter: despite their mutual attraction, Layla and Eddie decided to spend some time together in a platonic way; Stone wasn’t able to make Sara come out from the bathroom but has instead confessed her his feelings; Jeff has seen his bandmate go inside the bathroom and he knows Stone is with Sara, but what he doesn’t know is that the two of them are making out)

Seattle, 31st December 1984

“Here you are! Thought you had deserted us” Sara snapped out of her thoughts when she heard Jeff’s voice coming from behind: she turned around as he was already strolling in her direction, and she immediately felt her mouth dry. “I’m sorry, I-I came here to get some fresh air – I thought I was about to faint inside” the girl stammered, pointing at the room where It’s My Life was playing out loud “The balcony seemed like a clever idea” “It was, just like me bringing you some fruit punch” Jeff grinned, handing her a red cup that she gladly took. “You’re a lifesaver, thank you” “No problem” he went to sit on the railing, next to where now Sara was chewing the edge of her paper cup “Penny for your thoughts?” “Just a silly recollection…” the tips of her ears instantly reddened “You’d make fun of me” “I would never! I won’t, I promise” “Well, I was thinking about last New Year’s Eve, wondering how I spent it” “And…?” “... and I just realized it was probably me still crying because Dennis Wilson had died a couple of days before” she rested her elbows on the railing, then leaned her cheek on a hand “You know, Beach Boys’ drummer? And a year later I’m at a party, but I fled to the balcony because inside there’s too many people I don’t know… so yeah, a year may have passed but I’m still socially awkward, ugh” “Hey, I wouldn’t call ‘socially awkward’ someone who’s having zero problems chatting with a guy she’s known for seven months” “What, you’ve been counting or something?” she smirked at him, her voice showing amusement at his corniness. “Every single day” “Oh, shush” the girl immediately flushed, and Jeff couldn’t help but grin triumphantly because she was trying so hard not to smile but the half dimple on the right corner of her mouth said otherwise. “No, but seriously – you’re doing great” he was quick to make himself clear “I mean, you said it yourself: going to a party full of people you don’t know, with other people you barely know? In my book you sound like a total badass” “You think so?” “I do” he looked her in the eye “But that doesn’t mean that last year you were an utter loser because you spent New Year’s Eve crying over some dead musician… sounds like he meant a great deal to you” “He does, yeah” “I know my Brian Wilson and my Mike Love,” he began, while she frowned at the last person mentioned “but the other members… not so much, I’m afraid – except for the drummer’s association with Manson, obviously” “Yeah, I guess that’s public domain” Sara wrinkled her nose “Well, Dennis was the first one in the band to come out with a solo project, which I think has to be one of the saddest albums ever… still beautiful, though I haven’t been able to listen again to it after last year” “Understandable” “And he also made a movie with James Taylor that I have yet to watch but my father tells me it’s great – kind of a road-movie, made in the early ‘70s” “Sounds like something I’d like” “I think so too; he also wrote some pretty cool songs for the band, but he was obviously overshadowed by his brother” she sighed “Anyway, it’s all over now so I guess it doesn’t matter anymore” “It matters to you, that’s what’s important” She adjusted her scarf, avoiding his glance, then abruptly changed topic: “I listened to your tape” The bassist almost lost his balance but was able to recover at the last second: “Yeah? Verdict?” “You should seriously start to listen to some good ol’ folk, you can’t live just with punk music” “... that’s your feedback?!” this time he had begun to fall backwards, so he wisely jumped off the railing. “Yeah, that’s it” “Uhm, I-I guess I can see your point, but I also put Bowie and Beth by KISS! C’mon, you can’t tell me they’re punk, that’s-” “Honestly? That’s the sweetest thing somebody has ever done for me – and my dad is a worthy opponent in this competition, but you beat him anyway” the girl winked at him “You could have made a Barry Manilow compilation and I would have appreciated it all the same, because in any case it would have been something you made thinking of me” “Woah, I-uhm… thank you? I mean-” “Anyway, I need to lend you some tapes that I think are fundamental in the education of a person – especially for a musician like yourself” Sara kept on talking, then noticed he was giving her a funny look “What, what did I say?” “Nothing, just… I’m happy you liked it, I was hoping the tape could make you understand what you mean to me” Even though her feet were on the ground, the girl was still able to trip over an invisible obstacle. “Errrrr, thank God I didn’t drink the vodka they offered us before, otherw-” she babbled, but was interrupted by Jeff moving closer. “... Wanna go out with me?” “Like, right now? We shouldn’t ditch the others, it wouldn’t be f-” “No, silly!” the guy chuckled, the wrinkles around the corners of his eyes instantly giving her butterflies in her stomach “I agree with you, right now it would be really improper: wanna do this next week?” “You’re… serious” “Why shouldn’t I be? We can go to the movies and then grab something to eat” “Just the two of us?” “Unless you want that pain in the ass of Stone to tag along” he joked, trying to ignore the annoying thought of his friend being the third wheel. No words came out Sara’s mouth, so the guy panicked. “... you know what, I didn’t want to mess this up – just forget it” he dismissed the previous idea with frantic gestures of his hands “I’m sorry I embarrassed you, I-” “I’d love to” the girl had come closer and taken his hands in hers “I’m sorry if I made you believe I didn’t wanna go out with you, I just… I’m surprised you invited me, that’s all” “Hell, to be honest I’m surprised you accepted” Jeff let out a nervous chuckle, squeezing her hands in return “You sure? Just the two of us?” “Just the two of us” she said in a resolute tone, grinning at him, and he finally mirrored her relaxed smile. 1985 was about to start in the best possible way.

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Seattle, VedderAment’s place, 31st December 1990 (but not for much longer) “It’s barely a couple of minutes to midnight!” Layla yelled into Eddie’s ear as they held to each other and swayed to the music. <Excuse me, Miss Boulais, is it midnight? I’d check my watch, you know, but I just can’t take my eyes off you… JEEZ, I DIDN’T SAY IT OUT LOUD, DID I?> Eddie had a mind full of cheesy kissing pick up lines as it often happened when he was drunk or stoned. “Really? Uhm we’re almost there then hehe” he awkwardly replied as he couldn’t say if he was more inebriated by the booze, the song’s atmosphere, Layla’s delicate flowery perfume, the warmth of her breath against his face or her body pressed against his. “Yep!” Layla knew she should have said something earlier because now, right in the middle of the party, it was impossible to have a proper conversation about anything or even say anything more than best wishes. She tried to tell herself to enjoy the moment, which wasn’t bad at all, but she couldn’t help but regret her lack of courage. She was an overly worried type of drunk. <I’m here, slow dancing with a nice guy, who also happens to be very hot, and instead of just enjoying it, I keep on brooding over what I did and didn’t do...> 10! 9! 8! They kept dancing without saying a word, until Chris started shouting the countdown and everyone at the party followed him. Eddie and Layla stopped but were still holding each other as they were howling every number too. 7! 6! 5! <Wanna start the new year with a bang?> he couldn’t help thinking as they smiled at each other during the count. 4! 3! <Ok, that’s enough, I’m done! I’ll kiss him! Just like that. But what if he doesn’t want to? What if he pulls away? How can I save the situation? I could kiss him and make it seem like it was a mistake. Like I could be aiming at the cheek and then oops! And then just see where it goes from there… If he gets into it, that’s great, but if he doesn’t I can always say “sorry” and laugh about it and pretend nothing happened then go cry about it in my room later> Layla’s train of thoughts was very fast in those two seconds, as she pondered about her kissing attempt. 2! 1! <Can I be your first mistake of the year?> Eddie was disgusted but also surprised by his own creativity for pick-up lines as the last seconds of 1990 were ticking away. HAPPY FUCKIN’ NEW YEAR!!!!! Cornell screamed from the top of his lungs as chaos started around in the apartment at the stroke of midnight, so much that the music was barely audible, although Chris had turned back up at maximum volume. “Happy new year, Eddie!” Layla jumped and cheered and went to kiss him on the cheek. Right, on the cheek. Her previous determination gone out of the window, as always. Eddie kissed her cheek in turn and stood staring at her with a drunk smile, considering telling her that, talking about new year’s resolutions, he had a new one now and he was looking at it right at that moment. “Thanks, happy new year to you too” he said instead, keeping some dignity. <Why can’t I be uninhibited drunk instead of overthinking drunk?> Layla sighed internally as she took in Eddie’s disheveled beauty right in front of her and regretted their loser-style new year’s kisses. “1991 will be great for you and the band, I just know that!” the girl shook him by his shoulders and it was like he snapped up from sleep. “I trust you. You know, talking about resolutions…” Eddie started saying and it was like he could hear himself talking but couldn’t do anything to prevent it and was terrified of all the stupid shit that could come out of his mouth. “Yeah?” she asked as Eddie wouldn’t go on but just started dancing with her instead. “Uh, I have a new one. I didn’t mention it before because, well, it’s new” he said after Layla’s encouragement and was already saying a silent goodbye to his dignity. <I just hope she had enough alcohol to believe I’m charming and cool> “Ok, that’s great” “Yeah” he said as he kept swaying in time with the music. “And what is it?” she prompted him to talk as she thought the booze was probably starting to kick in and have the best of him. “Not be a loser anymore” he spoke into her ear as he stopped moving and subtly tightened his hold on the girl’s hips. “Oh. Well, that’s, that’s good” “Pucker up now, please” he looked up into her eyes and she saw an extremely serious expression on his face. “Wha-” Layla didn’t have time to understand what Eddie was talking about before his lips met hers in a sudden kiss. Layla wanted so badly to let her mind wander and mull over what was happening and the possible aftermath and consequences of it but she just couldn’t. The kiss was so surprising she was caught off guard and it was just that deep type of kiss that leaves little room for thought. The rush of sensations crawling across her body was the only thing she could focus on, together with the taste of him. Eddie pulled away only to look at her face, searching for reassurance, any hint or reaction that could tell him whether he had just fucked up big time or she liked being kissed. He had his answer in a couple of seconds, when the silent double stare broke into a mirrored dumbstruck smile. “... Fuck it” Layla said and he thought that it was serious if she used the F word. He managed to smirk before the girl decided that whatever it meant, whatever the consequences might be, whatever his lips were bringing, she wanted more and pulled him into a new kiss. They were lost in each other’s lips and it was like the outside world had ceased to exist. That was until a loud crash that sounded like an explosion broke the air and their kiss and brought them back to reality.

“Jesus H. Tap-dancing Christ, what the hell was that noise?!” Sara startled, then finally realized what had been happening for God knows how much time and immediately pushed herself away from Stone. “Sounded kinda like the roar you hear during an earthquake...” he casually observed with a smirk, touching his lips without taking his eyes off her. “Oh, that’s magnificent… fuckin’ A, we’ll be the first ones to drop like ants!” she growled, then kicked him in the leg “What the fuck are you waiting for?? Stand up, I need to go out!” “After all the trouble I went to come here? Over my dead body, missy” “You’re asking for it” she kicked him again “I’ve got zero problems with killing you to save myself: you’ll be just a fatality caused by the earthquake” “Only if you’re gonna cry at my funeral – first row, with a Hepburn LBD and this exact perfume” he went on, grabbing her ankle and trying to pull her close. “... you’re a sick motherfucker, you know that?” Sara shook him off, pushed him aside while he was guffawing and finally reached the handle “I’m not done with you” “That’s exactly what I was hoping you would say, Scout” “Go eat a dick, Boo Radley” she gave him a last fake smile then stormed out the bathroom with her ears and cheeks boiling. <Jumping Jesus on a pogo stick, let’s hope nobody noticed my absence… that son of a gun needs a good kicking> The girl stopped for a few seconds, trying to catch her breath and wondering if her lipstick had survived the havoc that Gossard had bestowed upon it, then craned her neck to see if anybody had seen what she had been up to, to no avail: the hall was empty, because apparently everybody had gathered in the living room. “Ames, I already told ya I’m fuckin’ sor-” “What the fuck should I do with your apologies, Chris?? Wipe my ass, that’s what I’m gonna do!” Jeff was shouting at his (ex) friend “What am I supposed to tell the landlord?? ‘My friend thought that shooting a goddamn confetti cannon against the ceiling would be a brilliant idea’?! That would surely make everything easy for me, yes sirree!” <Do not think about that idiot’s ass, Fancini, and focus on the main news: no earthquake and Mr. Montana’s imminent ass-kicking provided by his landlor-fuck, I thought about his ass, didn’t I?> Sara looked up, first of all trying to figure out how much did Chris actually fuck up and also to take her mind off the bassist’s butt. She noticed quite a large hole in the ceiling and a few confetti remains hanging from it. “You can always say it’s installation art” Steve suggested as Lukin on his side couldn’t seem to take off his squinting eyes from the confetti cannon disaster. “Yeah, it surely… uhm, transformed the perception of the space” Layla remarked, as Sara briefly looked at her friend and couldn’t help but notice Eddie’s arm looped around her waist – she didn’t think too much of it. “Sure! And it will transform the landlord’s perception too as he won’t hesitate invading our personal space to kick our asses!” Jeff flailed his arms around in frustration, while Sara silently cursed him for mentioning his cute ass once again. “Come on, it’s not bad! I mean, it is bad, but not that much. Nothing that can’t be repaired” Matt pointed out, trying to save his bandmate from the homicidal instincts of Ament. “Sure it can be repaired. At our expenses, of course” Jeff rubbed his face with his hands, trying to stay calm, but the people around him didn’t help. “Oh! You could ask the construction company that’s fixing our apartment! They’re not too expensive” Layla thought this would cheer the guy up a little but apparently she was wrong. “Well, thanks a lot, Four Eyes! They’re cheap and all but considering how quick they’re working at your place, do you think they’ll have the fuckin’ hole fixed on time for the next New Year’s party?” “Come on, Jeff, let’s not ruin the party now” Vedder exchanged a reassuring look with Layla and went to lighten up his bandmate’s mood. “Me? It wasn’t me, Chris ruined it” Ament shrugged and Cornell rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time. “How many times do I have to apologize to you?” “Listen, we’ll think about something tomorrow, I’ll try and see if I can do something. Tomorrow, though. Today we’re celebrating, ok?” Eddie went on and his attempt at keeping his friend calm wasn’t totally uninterested. <The sooner Jeff relaxes, the sooner we’ll all go back to the party and the sooner I’ll go back to the smooching> he thought, hoping he was really just thinking and not saying the word smooch aloud. “How sweet of him, improvising as a mason… I bet he’d pass himself off as a firefighter or a fuckin’ astronaut just to resume his favourite activity” Turner murmured under his breath, still bearing a sort of grudge against him because of Layla. “Hey, what’s happening he-OH. Jeffrey, how many times did I tell you not to do jumping jacks at home? You know you’re not exactly as light as a feather” Stone appeared out of nowhere and Sara had almost forgotten their escapade and was chuckling at his joke – at least until she turned to look at him and noticed a faint trace of her lipstick in the corner of his bottom lip. “HAHAHAHA OH, SHUT UP GOSSARD, GIVE HIM A BREAK!” the girl laughed exaggeratedly and shoved her hand upon Stone’s mouth as to playfully shush him up, but actually to subtly remove any evidence. <A flamethrower would be more effective but this will do for now> she thought as she felt a sort of satisfaction in almost suffocating the guy. Stone didn’t lose his composure and with a quick move he took her wrist, twisted it lightly, kissed her hand and smirked. “As you wish, Miss! How can I say no to such a gentle request?” Everybody turned to look at them with their faces scrunched up like crumpled paper; the color drained immediately from Sara’s face when she realized that all her previous caution had just been destroyed by the cocky attitude of her ex-friend. Silence was reigning until Ament cleared his throat: “Ok ok, considering everybody’s at least as wasted as Stone, we clearly can’t do anything now anyway” he paused and looked at Stone and Sara with a weird feeling gnawing at him that he couldn’t put a name on “You’re right, Ed, we’ll think about it tomorrow” “... Confetti hole” Lukin said out of the blue, while Chris turned the music back up and everyone went back to their own business. “Yeah, 1991 started with a bang” Steve snorted. “It looks like the sun” his friend said seriously. “Midnight sun” “Confetti sun, like it looks like the sun but it’s fake” “Uh-uh” “Confetti hole sun. Wouldn’t it be a great song title?” Lukin’s face suddenly lit up like a Christmas tree. “Yeah yeah, sure. Come on, let’s go have a drink” Steve shook his head and led his bandmate to the kitchen as the party slowly started again.

#Eddie Vedder #Jeff Ament #Pearl Jam #Eddie Vedder fanfiction #Pearl Jam fanfiction #grunge fanfiction #Jeff Ament fanfiction #Birds of a Feather #chapters

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mancanosempreventicentesimi · 1 year

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Capitolo 60 - Juke box, granoturco e apparecchi per i denti

Nel capitolo precedente: Angie e Grace visitano il set di Singles e incontrano Cameron Crowe. Grace vorrebbe andare a conoscere gli attori, ma Angie è troppo timida ed evita di incrociarli in tutti i modi, specialmente Matt Dillon. Il regista propone ad Angie una piccola parte nel film e lei ne rimane sconvolta. Non appena sente che Tim Burton dovrebbe fare un cameo nella sua scena, Angie sgattaiola via dal set. Eddie e Angie si vedono la sera stessa sotto casa di lei per fumare una sigaretta e fare due chiacchiere, un breve incontro incastrato tra gli impegni di entrambi. I due flirtano un po’ e Eddie lascia intendere che lei gli manca molto, anche dal punto di vista fisico. Angie si chiede come faranno quando lui sarà in tour con la band per lunghi periodi e Vedder le rivela qual è la sua “soluzione” al problema. Nel frattempo, Jerry ha intenzione di trascorrere una tranquilla serata a casa, ma i suoi piani vengono sconvolti da Layne e Demri, che lo incastrano in quello che pian piano scoprirà essere un appuntamento al buio con una ragazza.

Seattle non è Los Angeles e la First Avenue non è di certo il Sunset Strip, ma percorrere questa via che attraversa quasi interamente la città da nord a sud è la scelta migliore se vuoi entrare nel cuore dell'Emerald City. Se poi vuoi incontrare un musicista o un artista di qualsiasi genere, la zona tra First Avenue e Pike Street, prima del mercato, o l'area di confine tra Belltown e Downtown, sono quelle da tenere d'occhio. Non per i locali di musica dal vivo, che di certo non mancano, ma perché qui si trova la combinazione ideale di beni e servizi particolarmente ricercata dalla categoria appena citata: sexy shop, banchi dei pegni, negozi dell'usato, negozi di dischi, spacciatori e, soprattutto, posti in cui mangiare e bere super economici. Che abbia firmato con una major oppure no, il musicista medio qui è comunque perennemente al verde e non potrebbe sopravvivere senza posti in cui poter fare un pasto decente con pochi dollari. Molti si chiedono come mai proprio a Seattle si sia sviluppata questa scena musicale così fervente, tirando in ballo nella discussione le radio universitarie, le fanzine, le etichette indipendenti da una parte, l'isolamento, il freddo la pioggia e il non avere un cazzo da fare se non stare a casa e ascoltare o fare musica dall'altra. Secondo me però non ci sarebbe Seattle sound senza i caffè, le tavole calde e i bar che sfamano e dissetano gli artisti squattrinati che vivono qui da sempre o che vi si trasferiscono per far parte della scena.

Il Frontier Room è uno di questi santi posti. Apre alle sei del mattino e per le sette e mezza potrebbe benissimo metterti già ko. Bere qui costa poco e i baristi sono noti per avere la mano pesante. Sono al bancone con Layne, per un secondo round dopo il primo giro di presentazioni, chiacchiere e alcol con Demri e Heather. Devo dire che quella ragazza non è male, non è nemmeno come me l'aspettavo. Non so perché, ma dal nome mi immaginavo una specie di bomba sexy tutta tette e permanente... non che io abbia nulla contro le tette o la permanente, ci mancherebbe! E non voglio dire nemmeno che sia brutta, anzi. E' una bella ragazza, alta e magra con gambe kilometriche, occhi chiari e capelli scuri, potrebbe tranquillamente fare la modella e farebbe la sua porca figura, anche sfilando col maglioncino bianco e i jeans che ha su adesso. Sembra anche simpatica e alla mano, insomma, sarebbe anche il mio tipo. Se me ne fregasse qualcosa. Layne si allontana con i gin tonic per lui e Dem, mentre io osservo il barman che prepara i due whisky e coca per me e Heather contemporaneamente. Praticamente riempie i bicchieri di whisky fino a metà, poi prende la coca e, mentre si gira a parlare con un altro tizio, non si accorge che la maggior parte della bevanda che versa manca il bersaglio e finisce per infradiciare lo straccio che sta sopra il bancone. Quando termina lo scambio di parole, nota che i bicchieri sono ancora poco meno che mezzi vuoti e allora ci butta dentro un altro po' di whisky. Questo è il segreto del Seattle sound: i posti che ti danno più whisky che coca, spero vivano per sempre.

Prendo i bicchieri e faccio per andare al tavolo dei miei amici, quando intravedo uno sbaciucchiamento in corso proprio tra Layne e Demri. Nulla di esagerato, ma abbastanza da farmi fare una piccola inversione a U in cerca di un diversivo, che si materializza proprio davanti a me sotto forma di juke box. Appoggio i bicchieri sull'apparecchio e mi metto a spulciare i titoli per perdere un po' di tempo, scusa Heather! Passo un bel po' di musica country, non perché non mi piaccia, ma perché non sono nel mood giusto. Garth Brooks, Bob Seeger, c'è un po' di classic rock, ma continuo a scorrere, un po' perché voglio essere sicuro di trovare labbra scollate al mio ritorno, un po' perché nulla mi colpisce particolarmente. Eagles? Ugh... Scorpions. Mi fermo, per un doppio motivo. Numero uno: amo questa band. Numero due: Angie odia questa band. Credo di non averla mai sentita pronunciare una parola cattiva nei confronti di nessuno, a parte gli Scorpions, Bon Jovi e... ehm, beh, il sottoscritto. C'è Love at first sight, scontato, c'è Animal Magnetism, che è il mio album preferito, c'è pure Crazy world, l'ultimo, un buon lavoro, ma sicuramente il più commerciale. E io proprio lì vado a cadere.

Wise man said just walk this way

To the dawn of the light...

Kenny Rogers finisce proprio quando arrivo al tavolo con i drink, Send me an angel comincia e i miei tre compagni di serata mugugnano quasi in contemporanea. E non sono i soli perché posso quasi sentire un unico lamento percorrere tutti gli avventori del bar uno dopo l'altro mentre ascoltano la ballad e riflettono sul senso della propria vita. Un po' troppo deprimente forse, eh? La serata sembra tutto d'un tratto più silenziosa e più fredda e forse nemmeno il whisky e coca super carico è abbastanza forte per questa canzone. Penso di aver ufficialmente rovinato la serata a tutti, almeno finché Heather non si alza, e a quel punto penso di averla rovinata soprattutto a lei. E a Dem e Layne che in fondo vogliono solo che socializzi come una persona normale e non mi sembra chiedano troppo, ma perché è diventato tutto così difficile tutto d'un tratto? La ragazza però non tira su giacca e borsa per alzare i tacchi e andarsene con una scusa come pensavo, ma prende solo un paio di monete dalla tasca, mi fa l'occhiolino e con poche falcate raggiunge il juke box. Con lo stesso sorrisetto stampato in faccia scorre i titoli, inserisce i suoi quarti di dollaro, preme i pulsanti e torna al tavolo, mentre la mia canzone sfuma, lasciando il bar in un silenzio quasi totale e surreale. Heather non si siede, ma ci guarda, si guarda attorno e si rivolge a tutto il locale proprio mentre partono degli accordi decisamente più grintosi di Rudolph Schenker.

“Gli si sono accavallate le dita e ha sbagliato a schiacciare, tutto qui!” Heather alza le braccia e poi punta lo sguardo su di me, prende il bicchiere e bevendo un bel sorso di whisky praticamente puro e inizia a cantare, qui, in mezzo al bar, come se nulla fosse. La cosa mi stupisce, ma quello che mi sorprende di più è che io la seguo a ruota.

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

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

Cantiamo Falling in love degli Scorpions in un duetto, ma solo fino al primo ritornello, perché da lì in poi diventa un coro, prima del nostro tavolo, poi di tutto il bar. La mia memoria potrebbe tranquillamente tradirmi, ma penso sia la prima volta che contribuisco a dare il via a un coro da bar. E' facile far cantare il pubblico ai tuoi concerti, ma molto più difficile svegliare un gruppo di ubriaconi in locale anonimo una sera freddina e umida di marzo. A volte bastano le dita giuste per risolvere una serata.

“Adoro quell'album” commento con Heather che annuisce, un bel pezzo dopo la fine del coro.

“E' il disco della svolta.” fa lei, poco prima che Dem e Layne si allontanino con la scusa delle sigarette “La mia preferita è The Zoo, ma quella era più orecchiabile”

“Eheh sì, più da karaoke. Comunque The Zoo è un pezzone, sei la prima ragazza che incontro che conosca così bene gli Scorpions” tralasciando Angie che, proprio perché li conosceva bene, vomitava solo al sentirli nominare, davvero non mi ricordo di nessuna fan in particolare. Beh, a parte lei, ma non era così sfegatata.

“Oh cavolo, Jerry, mi dispiace” Heather si fa subito seria e appoggia la sua mano sulla mia, che riposa accanto al posacenere dopo averci appena spento una sigaretta.

“Eheheh beh, non è grave, insomma, ben vengano i buoni gusti musicali, ma non sono tutto, cioè, mi fa piacere quando trovo qualcuno che condivide i miei interessi, ma non è fondamentale”. Insomma, la musica è la mia vita, ma ho smesso di scegliere gli amici in base ai gusti musicali nel 1980, più o meno.

“No, intendevo dire, mi dispiace... ma non verrò a letto con te” scuote la testa e mi guarda con aria contrita, come se mi stesse facendo le condoglianze.

“Che?”

“Non ci vengo a letto con te, non farti strane idee”

“Oh. Ok. Ma cosa c'entra?”

“Volevo essere onesta con te, prima che iniziassi a provarci. Ma non potevo dire niente prima, davanti a Demri, ci teneva così tanto a questa uscita”

“Chi ti dice che volessi provarci?”

“Lo stai già facendo... Sei la prima ragazza che incontro che ama gli Scorpions, uh!” dopo questa sorta di imitazione mi spinge via la mano ridacchiando e finisce il suo drink.

“Allora, capisco che possa sembrare una frase di pseudo-rimorchio e ammetto di aver usato qualcosa del genere in passato, ma ti giuro che in questo caso l'intenzione non era assolutamente quella”

“Seh come no! Guarda che non devi fare finta con me, è normale che uno si aspetti qualcosa da un appuntamento al buio, non te ne faccio mica una colpa” Heather allunga le mani sul mio pacchetto di sigarette senza chiedere, ne prende una e se l'accende col mio accendino.

“Certo che è normale, ma la normalità non mi appartiene molto ultimamente. Ti assicuro che era una semplice osservazione, non ci stavo provando. Se vuoi saperlo, visto che è il momento della verità, non ci volevo neanche venire stasera”

“Ma davvero?”

“Ero a tanto così dal tirarti un pacco clamoroso”

“Disse la volpe che non poteva arrivare all'uva...” Heather ammicca e mi soffia il fumo in faccia.

“Ahahah so cosa sembra, ma non è così. Farei sicuramente una figura migliore se ti assecondassi e andassi dietro alla tua storia, invece no. Sono molto più patetico di così” non so per quale motivo, forse è perché in fondo non la conosco, è un'estranea, ed è più facile essere onesti con gli sconosciuti; un po' sarà anche il suo modo di fare, molto schietto, ma dire la verità mi sembra la cosa più facile del mondo in questo momento, al tavolo con Heather.

“Patetico? Che vuoi dire?”

“Che fino a qualche mese fa non solo ci avrei provato con te, ma ci sarei anche riuscito e a quest'ora staremmo già guidando verso casa mia”

“Ahahah anche se ti avessi detto che non avevo la minima intenzione di dartela?”

“Certo e l'avrei fatto in un modo talmente sottile da farti credere di essere stata tu a cambiare idea, anzi, ti avrei convinta che anch'io non ci pensavo proprio e che il tutto stava succedendo totalmente per caso”

“Che poi è... quello che stai facendo adesso? O sbaglio?” mi sorride curiosa e anche se pensa di avermi sgamato, non sembra irritata. E' perché mi crede? E' perché sta al gioco? Boh.

“No no, adesso mi sto proprio mettendo a nudo, non sto usando tattiche, te lo giuro”

“E allora cos'è successo in questi mesi che ti ha cambiato così drasticamente?” ecco, la domanda fatidica. Prendo la giusta rincorsa con un bel respiro profondo e vado.

“Mi sono innamorato di una ragazza, le ho spezzato il cuore, sono stato mollato e non mi sono più avvicinato a un altro essere di sesso femminile da allora, che poi sarebbero tre mesi fa, più o meno”

“Oh. Beh, hai fatto una bella sintesi”

“Sono andato dritto al sodo, almeno nei discorsi sono ancora capace di farlo” cos'è, ho iniziato il percorso dell'autoironia? Beh, un po' funziona, mi viene da ridere e lei sghignazza con me.

“Sai, la tua sintesi è molto simile alla mia. Beh, nella sostanza, intendo. Anch'io mi sono innamorata, sono stata mollata da un po' e non mi sono ancora ripresa”

“Mi dispiace”

“Solo che io sono quella a cui è stato spezzato il cuore. Beh, mi ha mollata per un'altra, insomma”

“Capisco cosa stai passando, davvero. Non è una tattica di rimorchio!” ribadisco cercando di farla ridere ancora.

“Ho ucciso il mood, vero? Come tu con quella cazzo di canzone di prima!”

“Nah, io ti ho battuta su tutta la linea, mi spiace! E ti batto anche come storia triste, perché sono così messo male che i miei amici mi presentano ragazze sperando di tirarmi su e invece io finisco per farle scappare parlando della mia ex”

“Ahah e perché io? Cosa credi sia qui a fare stasera? Demri non ne può più di vedermi piangere in pausa un giorno sì e l'altro pure. E non è la sola. Le mie amiche mi spingono a conoscere tipi, ma non capiscono che così è peggio!”

“Esatto! Non so se è così anche per te, ma... è difficile da spiegare. Quando devi dimenticare qualcuno la soluzione migliore sarebbe evitare tutto ciò che ti fa pensare a quel qualcuno, no? Ecco, un appuntamento con un'altra è la prima cosa che mi fa pensare alla mia ex perché...”

“Perché è la cosa che facevi con lei! Anch'io la penso così. Esci con uno e ti vengono in mente le stesse situazioni e...”

“E fai i confronti!”

“Ovvio, come cazzo fai a non farli!”

“Sai perché ho scelto gli Scorpions al juke box?”

“Perché hai dei ricordi di lei con quella canzone?”

“Perché le stanno sul cazzo, li odia!”

“Ahahah”

“Era da un po' che scorrevo tutti i titoli di quel cazzo di juke box e non c'era un nome che mi facesse sentire qualcosa, e la musica è la mia vita, sia chiaro. Poi è bastato che mi cadesse l'occhio su quel nome e ciao”

“E poi ti ho pure detto che a me piacciono”

“Già! Dimmi come potrebbe questa serata farmi dimenticare Angie, non può”

“Io dopo cinque minuti che sei arrivato avevo già fatto il confronto mentale tra le tonalità di biondo dei tuoi capelli e quelli di Rob, oltre che delle vostre altezze e del modo di ridere”

“Siamo messi proprio male, qua ci vuole un brindisi!” esclamo, mentre verso un po' del contenuto del mio bicchiere nel suo, per poi tornare serio per un attimo “Se non ti fa schifo”

“Ahahah no, figurati! Brindiamo, ai cuori infranti e patetici!”

“Cin cin” i nostri bicchieri si toccano per poi essere svuotati alla goccia da noi.

“Sei simpatico, se non fossi a pezzi ci sarei stata con te. Sei anche carino”

“Ah sì?”

“Sì, alto, capelli lunghi, musicista... sei praticamente il mio tipo”

“Wow, grazie, ne sono lusingato”

“E almeno mi capisci. Invece dovrò passare per chissà quanti altri appuntamenti al buio”

“Beh, magari prima o poi troverai qualcuno che ti prenderà talmente tanto da farti dimenticare persino come si chiama il tuo ex”

“Eheh dopo quello che ci siamo detti, non sei credibile, mi dispiace”

“Beh, basta dire alle tue amiche che non vuoi uscire con nessuno per il momento”

“Pensi che non l'abbia fatto? Come se fosse indispensabile avere qualcuno, voglio dire, che c'è di male ad essere single?”

“Single e contenti!”

“E poi il sesso è sopravvalutato”

“Beh...”

“Sì, è figo, non dico di no, ma non è che mi manchi poi così tanto. Non è la cosa che mi manca di più di Rob, questa è la prova che non è fondamentale”

“In effetti anch'io non è che stia facendo fatica. E non ero uno che si risparmiava, anzi...”

“Scommetto che il tuo non risparmiarti ha a che fare col modo in cui hai spezzato il cuore alla tua ex, o sbaglio? Non ti sto giudicando, eh! Tutto facciamo degli errori, siamo umani”

“Che dire, hai colpito nel segno. Invece adesso le tipe che girano nel backstage dei nostri concerti nemmeno le guardo, non le vedo, non ne ho voglia”

“SENTI, HO AVUTO UN'IDEA!” Heather batte forte il palmo della mano sul tavolo, tanto da far girare verso di noi anche i tizi seduti al tavolo accanto.

“Che idea?”

“Siamo nella stessa situazione e abbiamo lo stesso problema. Perché non possiamo essere l'uno la soluzione del problema dell'altra?”

“Eh?”

“Mi è venuto in mente in questo momento, magari è una cazzata, ma secondo me no, può essere la svolta!”

“Vuoi spiegarti meglio?”

“Allora, tra poco Demri e Layne torneranno al tavolo, capiranno che non c'è trippa per gatti, vedranno che ognuno di noi tornerà a casa sua e che non ci scambieremo nemmeno i numeri e cosa faranno la prossima volta?”

“Ci romperanno le palle chiedendoci perché non è andata?”

“Questo lo faranno adesso, subito. Ma la prossima volta che faranno?”

“Che faranno?”

“Ci presenteranno qualcun altro! E ancora e ancora e non finirà mai!”

“Io sto per andare in tour coi ragazzi, mi chiederanno di fare il quarto ogni volta che rimorchieranno qualcuna con amica al seguito”

“E perché, Dem? Conosce tutta Seattle, hai idea di quanti musicisti alti e capelloni siederanno al tuo posto?”

“E la tua soluzione quale sarebbe?”

“Lasciare un po' di trippa per i gatti”

“Cioè?”

“Non diciamogli che non è andata” Heather fa spallucce come se mi stesse dicendo la cosa più ovvia del mondo.

“Vuoi fargli credere che ci stai?”

“Gli facciamo credere che ci piacciamo, ci scambiamo qualche effusione...”

“Effusione?”

“Per finta! Ci scambiamo anche i numeri. Tanto tra poco tu vai in tour, no? Al massimo mi chiami una volta o due, giusto per rendere più credibile il gioco anche per la mia coinquilina. I tuoi amici vedono che sei preso da me e sei tranquillo e non ti rompono il cazzo con altre tipe col rischio di incasinarti di nuovo”

“E le tue amiche la piantano con gli appuntamenti al buio”

“Ci guadagniamo tutti e due”

“Mmm”

“Lo so che l'archetipo dei finti fidanzati è stra-abusato e può sembrare un cliché da commedia romantica alla John Hughes, ma ti assicuro che non ho secondi fini. E qui sarebbe per una giusta causa: la nostra sanità mentale” Heather mi guarda tutta speranzosa. Tutto sommato non sta dicendo una cazzata e, finzione o meno, ha degli occhi a cui è difficile dire di no.

“E' talmente assurdo che potrebbe funzionare”

“CHE COSA?” sono così concentrato sul piano diabolico di Heather che non mi accorgo del ritorno dei nostri amici, né di Demri che si avvicina per urlarmi nell'orecchio.

“Che cosa, cosa?” domando facendo il finto tonto.

“Cosa potrebbe funzionare?” ripete lei riaccomodandosi assieme al suo bello.

“Tra noi! Abbiamo scoperto di essere molto diversi, ma anche molto simili, vero Jerry?” Heather mi strizza l'occhio e si avvicina un po' di più a me con la sedia.

“Vero! Hai fatto bene a trascinarmi qui, amico, sai?” allungo il braccio attorno alle spalle della mia nuova complice mentre Layne mi guarda meravigliato.

“Sul serio? Beh, bene...” ma non senza sospetto.

Non mi sto andando a cacciare in un altro casino, vero?

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

"Il tuo primo bacio? Quando è successo? Con chi? Racconta un po'..."

Io e Grace siamo nel pieno della nostra sessione quasi quotidiana di Domande random post-coito per conoscerci meglio, ospitata come sempre dal divano di casa sua. Il divano di Grace è la sede ufficiale di tutto ciò che facciamo, in pratica, che abbia a che fare col sesso, il post-sesso, il niente sesso, ascoltare dischi, mangiare, guardare la tv, guardare gli acquari o cazzeggiare. Io per altro ci dormo anche, perché il letto di Grace ahimè è ancora offlimits. Perché il discorso che le ho fatto l'altra sera era perfetto e lo so che le mie parole hanno fatto centro, ma intanto di fare l'amore senza i suoi stivali non se ne parla, di dormire assieme tanto meno. E allora siamo qui, io in mutande, lei con addosso la mia maglietta e le sue immancabili calzature, sul divano che ormai ha assunto la forma dei nostri corpi, specialmente del mio, a mangiare anacardi tostati e a farci domande per conoscerci, quando in realtà basterebbe spogliarci completamente e andare di là per avvicinarci veramente. Ma tant'è, l'intimità è fatta di tante cose e per costruirla ci vuole un sacco di tempo. Pazienza ne ho, è solo che ho il brutto vizio di voltarmi e buttare sempre l'occhio alla strada più facile, mentre arranco sul sentiero più impervio e considerato unanimemente il più efficace.

"È successo in prima media, con una bambina dai capelli rossi che non mi piaceva" ricordo mentre lo scettro del potere, ovvero la ciotola di anacardi, passa dalle mani di Grace alle mie.

"Non so perché, ma mi aspettavo una risposta del genere. Era pazza anche lei?"

"Mmm no, Jane era normale, per quanto possa considerarsi normale una ragazzina di undici anni. Era simpatica, una a posto, ma non una che avevo intenzione di baciare"

"E com'è andata?"

"Stavamo tornando a casa da scuola, abitavamo nella stessa strada. Eravamo scesi dallo scuolabus e camminavamo insieme, casa sua era prima della mia, quando ci siamo arrivati e la stavo salutando, lei ci ha provato"

"Le ragazze che prendono l'iniziativa sono un elemento ricorrente nella tua vita, ci hai fatto caso?" Grace allunga la mano nella ciotola e prende una manciata consistente.

"Sì. Però con te no, ti ho baciata io" diamo a Cesare quel che è di Cesare.

"Va beh, e tutto il lavoro per arrivare al bacio? Dove lo mettiamo? Me lo sono smazzato io, bello!" va beh, anche lei, sempre a mettere i puntini sulle i.

"Dettagli"

"Comunque, Jane ha provato a baciarti e tu?"

"Io sono andato nel panico, ovviamente"

"Ovviamente"

"E mentre le sue labbra ci avvicinavano pericolosamente..."

"Sei scappato?"

"No, le ho detto la prima cosa che mi è passata per la testa"

"Cioè?"

"Che avevo appena vomitato"

"Ahahahahah cosa???" il divano trema un po' sotto di lei che se la ride.

"Te l'ho detto, è stata la prima cosa che mi è venuta in mente! E mentre cercavo di spiegarle che doveva essere stato il polpettone della mensa, che era per forza andato a male e che l'avevo vomitato nel bagno della scuola prima di uscire, lei mi ha spiazzato"

"Ha vomitato anche lei?"

"No ha detto Non fa niente, ha fatto spallucce e mi ha baciato lo stesso! Ti rendi conto?"

"Wow dovevi piacerle proprio tanto"

"Quindi non era poi così tanto normale come sembrava"

"Devi avere una bella cotta per essere disposta a baciare una bocca che ha appena vomitato"

"No, devi essere malata! Comunque è stato un bacio bagnato e freddo. E non ce ne sono stati altri tra me e lei. Per sicurezza comunque da allora in poi sono andato a scuola in bici"

"Non ti ha traumatizzato per niente, nooo"

"E invece tu?"

"Ah la mia storia è meno divertente. Avevo dodici anni, lui uno in più, io avevo l'apparecchio ai denti, lui pure. Non ci siamo incastrati o cose del genere, ma c'è stata qualche difficoltà tecnica, mini-scontri metallici, è stato un po' imbarazzante, ma carino" il sorrisetto che le si è stampato in faccia nel rievocare il ricordo mi fa quasi ingelosire.

"E il vostro bacio carino è stato il primo di una lunga serie?"

"No, il giorno dopo lui si è messo con la mia amica" ed ecco sparire il sorriso sognante, sostituito da un mezzo ghigno rassegnato.

"Ahia. Lei era senza apparecchio? Sarà stata una questione di accessibilità, non la prendere sul personale"

"In effetti no, non lo portava!"

"Dai, altra domanda, però stavolta tocca a me" riprendo in mano la situazione e faccio finta di improvvisare un quesito che invece mi sono preparato da un po'.

"Ok"

"Con quanti ragazzi sei uscita dopo l'operazione?"

"Oh. Wow, bella domanda"

"Io faccio solo belle domande"

"Ecco, dovresti chiarire prima di tutto cosa intendi per uscita"

"Almeno un appuntamento, serale, da soli" elenco le condizioni primarie su tre dita.

"Ok, beh, questa sì che è una definizione precisa"

"Ti aspettavi forse qualcosa di diverso da me?" appoggio la ciotola degli anacardi sul tavolino e incrocio le braccia, voltandomi verso di lei, preparandomi alla sua risposta e al discorsone che ne seguirà.

"Eheh assolutamente no"

"Quindi?"

"Mah non so, una decina"

"Una risposta più precisa, adeguata alla domanda?" lo so, non è fondamentale avere il dato preciso, ma già che ci siamo, voglio sapere.

"Aspetta..." Grace, dopo un ultimo boccone, si sfrega le mani dal sale degli anacardi e poi la vedo iniziare a contare mentalmente e con le dita.

"12"

"Me compreso?"

"13" si corregge sorridendo compiaciuta.

"E a quanti di questi hai rivelato il tuo segreto?"

"A tutti, tranne due. Quindi undici"

"E con quanti di questi c'è stato un secondo appuntamento?"

"Mmm sei"

"E con quanti hai fatto sesso?"

"Oddio, dove vuoi andare a parare?" Grace comincia a insospettirsi, ma io non mollo.

"Quanti?"

"Quattro"

"E di questi quattro, quanti hanno anche dormito con te?"

"Dobbiamo proprio parlarne?" non è arrabbiata, giusto un pochino imbronciata.

"Sì"

"Uno"

"Ok. E questo tizio era tanto migliore di me?"

"Stone..."

"Era un santo, un empatico, un premio Nobel per la pace...?"

"Direi di no"

"Uno psicologo, un terapeuta, un medico?"

"No e non era nemmeno un campione di sensibilità, se devo dirla tutta"

"Ottimo! Esattamente come me. Quindi, che ne dici se stanotte diamo una tregua alla mia schiena e ci facciamo una bella dormita in camera tua?"

"Devi capire che non è facile"

"Ma va? Davvero? Lo so che è difficile Grace e anche se non lo avessi capito da solo, diciamo che una media di uno su tredici sarebbe stata una prova schiacciante, non credi?"

"Ci ho messo un sacco ad accettarmi, è stata dura riuscire a guardare me stessa, figurati farmi vedere e toccare da un'altra persona"

"Grace, lo so, ok? Lo so. Però ti faccio una domanda" la prendo per mano, forse più per bloccarla che per consolarla.

"Un'altra??"

"Dobbiamo conoscerci, no?" le prendo anche l'altra e lei dà una stretta a entrambe.

"Sì, ma di questo passo ci diremo tutto stasera e da domani di che parliamo?"

"Ahah, secondo te mancano gli argomenti di cui parlare? A me? Mi sottovaluti"

"Ok, cosa vuoi sapere?" sospira rassegnata.

"Non ti fai vedere perché sei a disagio tu o perché non vuoi mettere a disagio me?"

"Stone è... entrambe le cose"

"Ma in percentuale?"

"Come faccio a quantificare? Non so, cinquanta e cinquanta"

"Cazzate"

"Ahahahah come fai a dirlo?"

"Cosa cambia se adesso ti togli questi stivali davanti a me? Per te nulla, tu sei tu, l'unica variabile sono io e come potrei reagire. È questo che cambia ed è questo che ti preoccupa"

"E secondo te la tua reazione non ha a che fare con me? Non ha nessun effetto? È ovvio che la cosa mi preoccupi"

"Certo, ma capisci anche che non è una cosa evitabile? Cioè, prima o poi dovrà accadere, non posso dormire in eterno su questo divano e tu non puoi portare stivali in casa per sempre"

"A volte metto anche scarpe normali e pantaloni larghi" puntualizza sapendo benissimo che non è quello il punto, ma comportandosi come se lo fosse.

"Sì e quando li metti vuol dire che non vuoi fare sesso" la so alleggerire anch'io una conversazione, sai?

"Ahahahah"

"Ho imparato a riconoscere i segnali, che ti credi"

"Comunque lo so che prima o poi succederà. Vorrei solo prendermi il mio tempo"

"Perché se ti vedo tra un mese il tuo piede sarà meno assente di adesso? Cioè, l'inesistenza del tuo piede è inversamente proporzionale al tempo che passa?" sarà una buona idea fare battute sarcastiche in questo momento? Sì, perché se non le facessi non sarei io, sembrerei falso, e io invece voglio che tutto sia il più vero e onesto possibile.

"No, ma avrai più tempo per abituarti all'idea"

"E perché dovrebbe essere un tuo problema?"

"Eh?" Grace mi guarda male, come se l'avessi insultata, quindi forse è il caso di spiegarmi meglio.

"Perché così torniamo alla mia domanda di prima: sei più a disagio per te stessa o è più un non voler mettere a disagio me? Perché se è la seconda, sappi che non devi, perché non è compito tuo. Non è tuo compito pensare a come far sentire a suo agio il tuo ragazzo quando sta con te, quelli sono cazzi miei, è la parte del lavoro di coppia che devo fare io, è una mia responsabilità, non tua. Sarà una passeggiata? No. Sarò del tutto indifferente alla cosa? Col cazzo, ma sono io a dover gestire le mie paure e le mie reazioni, non tu"

"Ci stai proprio scomodo su questo divano per essere così convincente, eh?" le esce bene perché mantiene un'espressione serissima, eccezion fatta per un sopracciglio leggermente inarcato.

"Non me ne frega un cazzo del divano"

"Lo so, ero sarcastica"

"Beh non puoi esserlo quando io non lo sono"

"La luce deve rimanere spenta" la luce sarà spenta, ma io finalmente vedo uno spiraglio di luce.

"Va bene, andrò a tentoni, tastando i peluches nell'oscurità in direzione del letto"

"E le mani devono stare lontane dalle gambe"

"Ma io le tengo lontane da tutto se vuoi, me ne sto dalla mia parte e non mi muovo, se vuoi ti avvicini tu. Insomma, se proprio devi"

"La protesi la devo togliere quando dormo"

"Sono così ignorante che non lo sapevo, vedi quanto sto già imparando con te? Comunque va bene"

"Però ho la calza"

"Ok"

“E' una calza apposta, che si mette sopra... copre il tutto, insomma”

"Tanto al buio non la vedo”

“Ok”

"Allora... andiamo?" mi alzo lentamente dal divano, senza lasciar andare le sue mani, che ho tenuto per tutto il tempo.

"Andiamo" si prende un momento, poi si alza anche lei.

"Comunque non serve che la spegni subito la luce. Indossi la mia maglietta e sotto sei completamente nuda, chi li caga i piedi? Ma poi, in generale, non è che la gente si guardi continuamente i piedi interagendo. Do per scontato che la gente li abbia, però non è che stia lì ad osservarli. Tu li hai mai visti i miei piedi? Onestamente mi sapresti dire come sono fatti? Credo proprio di no, penso che non te ne freghi un cazzo in fondo. E la stessa cosa vale per me. E poi sono troppo concentrato su quello che c'è per pensare a quello che manca" vado a ruota libera, forse perché la camminata in silenzio verso la camera da letto mi sa tanto di percorso verso il patibolo e questo non c'entra proprio per niente.

"Hai finito?" Grace si ferma davanti alla porta della stanza e mi guarda come se fossi un povero coglione.

"Sì"

"Ho già accettato, non mi devi più convincere"

"Hai accettato questa cosa, adesso. Ci sono ancora un sacco di cose che devo convincerti a fare, devo tenermi in allenamento"

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

21:58

In teoria mancano due minuti alla fine del mio turno, in pratica, come al solito, ci vorrà ancora del tempo prima di rimettere piede a casa. Prima devo smaltire la gente in cassa, poi devo fare i conti e annotare l'incasso parziale, controllare che ci siano abbastanza monete e contanti, sacchetti, rotoli del pos e del registratore di cassa, lasciare gli appunti in agenda per Ian sulle cose fatte e su ciò che c'è ancora da fare. Insomma, prima delle dieci e mezza non si schioda, ma stasera non mi pesa. Tanto devo aspettare Eddie. Finalmente ci vediamo e riusciamo a trascorrere una serata assieme. Almeno spero, insomma, mi ha avvisata che potrebbe tardare, ma che farà di tutto per essere qui al volo dopo la sessione di registrazione di oggi. Ci tiene un sacco e, beh, anch'io. Tutte le volte che ci sentiamo al telefono o ci vediamo di sfuggita è come se cercasse di scusarsi per i suoi impegni e io sempre lì a rassicurarlo. È il suo lavoro e non è necessario stare insieme 24 ore su 24 per avere una relazione. Comunque mi fa piacere poter riuscire a passare una serata tranquilli senza i minuti contati. Sarà anche per questo mio insolito buon umore che decido di infrangere la regola della brava commessa scazzata e dare il là a una conversazione col cliente che ho di fronte che vada un passettino oltre il semplice saluto.

"Buona sera, come va?" sorrido mentre batto lo scontrino.

"Sei mai stata sulla tazza del cesso a leggere il giornale così tanto a lungo da dimenticarti che avevi cagato per poi accorgerti soltanto qualche minuto dopo che non ti eri pulita il culo?"

"... sono ventiquattro dollari e cinquantacinque"

È colpa mia, solo colpa mia.

L'intellettuale paga e se ne va ed è la volta di un altro tizio sulla quarantina. Fra tutti gli articoli che mi ha appoggiato sul bancone, prendo per prima la confezione da sei di birra e sto per batterla, ma l'uomo mi interrompe.

"Scusa, in realtà sto cercando di bere un po' meno. Potresti metterle via, per favore?"

"Certo, nessun problema!" metto le birre da una parte e continuo col resto della spesa, quando una donna, sbucata fuori dal nulla, si avvicina a lui e mi fissa con sguardo truce.

"Che cosa gli hai detto?!" urla contro di me.

"Mi scusi?"

"Smettila di parlare col mio uomo! Non puoi averlo, è mio!" poi si gira verso di lui "Che cazzo ti ha detto? Ti ha chiesto il numero o cosa?!"

"Mmm no, le ho solo chiesto di mettere da parte le birre" risponde con voce calma, monotona, in netto contrasto con quella ansiogena di lei.

Io la guardo allibita, lei fissa prima lui, poi me e io prendo le birre per mostrargliele e confermare la versione dell'uomo; poi lo sguardo torna su di lui.

"Ah! Così adesso offri da bere ad altre donne, eh?! Scordati di tornare a casa stasera!" e con questo prende e se ne va.

Il cliente resta qui, impassibile, alza gli occhi al cielo e poi mi fa segno di continuare. Batto gli ultimi pezzi e a quel punto lo vedo allungare le mani sulle birre per avvicinarle di nuovo alla cassa.

"Va beh, facciamo che la birra la prendo. Se stanotte mi tocca dormire nella cuccia del cane, almeno non sarò sobrio!" accenna un sorriso, piuttosto amaro, con la faccia di uno che scene del genere le ha già viste e riviste. Finisco il suo conto, lui paga e se ne va e io lo saluto, non invidiandolo per niente.

"Mah che gente…" una signora con un lungo soprabito giallo, l'ultima della fila, almeno per ora, scuote la testa mentre si avvicina al bancone.

"Eh a quest'ora capitano tipi strani a volte"

"Molto strani"

"Posso aiutarla?"

"Sì, dovrei fare un cambio"

"Certo, mi dica"

"Restituisco questo" la signora mi porge una copia del Seattle Times di oggi.

Non c'è due senza tre.

"Perché vuole cambiarlo, scusi?"

"Perché l'ho letto tutto, mi serve quello di domani"

Fai un respiro, Angie, un bel respiro profondo.

"Il giornale di domani non è ancora uscito, signora, ma non potrei cambiarglielo comunque"

"Beh mi faccia un buono, così domani posso prendere il giornale nuovo"

"Non è possibile, signora, non posso cambiarglielo"

"Perché no? È di oggi, è in scadenza, me lo deve cambiare con quello di domani"

La cosa che più mi manda al manicomio è proprio dialogare con gente così: non gli stronzi, che ti insultano o se la prendono con te urlandoti dietro, quelli sono nulla al confronto delle persone che sono perfettamente tranquille, addirittura anche gentili, e lucide nella loro follia, pensano davvero di avere ragione e semplicemente non capiscono perché stai lì a creargli problemi.

"Dei cambi di questo genere si occupa il mio superiore, aspetti che lo chiamo" non vorrei rompere i coglioni ad Hannigan, ma io stasera non ce la posso fare. E poi ho intravisto i fari e la sagoma del pick-up di Eddie attraverso il vetro, perciò tanti saluti.

Faccio intervenire il capo, che deve essere proprio in stato di grazia perché mi dice di andare e che al resto ci pensa lui. Siamo a metà marzo, ma domani nevica sicuro! Mi cambio al volo e quando ripasso davanti alla cassa sento la signora ripetere le stesse obiezioni e, in contemporanea, lo scampanellio della porta d'ingresso.

"EDDIE! Dio come sono felice di vederti!" lo travolgo, e quasi lo abbatto, con un abbraccio.

"Ehi! Oh, beh, eheh, anch'io Angie"

"Ti prego, salvami, portami via da questa gabbia di matti" aggiungo sottovoce implorando pietà.

"Ah! Allora è per quello…"

"Stasera c'è una concentrazione particolarmente alta di clienti fuori di testa"

"E io che pensavo di esserti mancato, almeno un pochino" Eddie si scioglie dalle mie grinfie e mi allontana per scherzo facendo il finto offeso.

"Ma certo che mi sei mancato." mi riavvicino e lo bacio. Sì, qui, davanti a tutti, Hannigan, Ian e cliente svalvolata compresi. Eddie dovrebbe essere fiero di me, ormai non mi vergogno più di nulla. Beh, quasi "Il fatto che il tuo arrivo coincida con la fine del mio turno da incubo è un di più"

"Faccio finta di crederti. Ti perdono. Ma solo perché sei tu. E perché è un giorno speciale" mi bacia per suggellare la pace e io penso a quanto speciale sarà questa serata. Mi sa che Eddie ha aspettative altissime, io invece spero giusto di non addormentarmi prima della fine del film visto che sono anche un po' stanchina.

"Allora, che vuoi fare? Dove andiamo?" mi chiede una volta fuori.

"Oh beh, io avevo in mente di stare a casa, ho noleggiato un film"

"Va bene, micetta" apprezzo il fatto che abbia conservato il nomignolo scemo per quando saremmo stati soli, lontani da orecchie indiscrete.

"E poi pensavo di ordinare una pizza, visto che non ho mangiato"

"Oh perfetto, nemmeno io! In effetti sto morendo di fame" con un braccio attorno al mio collo mi accompagna verso il portone di casa mia.

"Ma forse tu volevi andare da qualche parte"

"Nah, casa tua va benissimo"

"Magari pensavi a qualcosa in particolare. Possiamo anche cambiare programma eh?"

"Il programma è fantastico e, a dire il vero, è proprio quello che speravo, sono un po' cotto. Certo, se poi avessi organizzato altro mi sarei adeguato, ma davvero, pizza, film e divano con te mi sembrano un sogno ora come ora"

"Sicuro?" insomma, continua a parlare di serata speciale e vuol farmi credere che non aspettava altro che stravaccarsi sul sofà a fare incetta di pizza e horror.

"Sicurissimo. Poi è con te, quindi è perfetto a prescindere"

"Ah sì?" gli domando mentre saliamo le scale.

"Certo. Anzi, no." cambia passo, in tutti i sensi, perché accelera per conto suo e mi supera sui gradini, poi si gira e vedo che ha messo il muso. Vero o finto? "No, perché in realtà sono arrabbiato con te"

"Eheh cosa? Perché?"

"Chiedilo a Matt" inizia a correre su per le scale, ma non troppo, perché sa benissimo che lo raggiungerei dopodomani e col fiatone.

"Matt? Che c'entra Matt?" chiedo sia a lui che a me stessa, non capendo il nesso tra il batterista e qualche stronzata delle mie che posso aver detto o fatto.

"Beh Matt mi ha detto una cosa stamattina, durante la nostra lezione di chitarra"

"Ah. Intendi quel Matt" capisco che parla di Dillon e non di Cameron.

"Già, quel Matt. Lasciatelo dire, sono molto, molto deluso" arriviamo al piano, attraversiamo il corridoio, lui sempre avanti col broncio e io dietro che un po' rido e un po' penso a come ne uscirò stavolta.

"Non capisco cosa vuoi dire, che ti ha detto?" faccio la finta tonta mentre apro la porta, sotto lo sguardo severo e giudicante di Eddie.

"Mi ha detto che qualche giorno fa ha incontrato delle mie amiche sul set, che poi sareste tu e Grace"

"Ok"

"E allora io gli ho spiegato che sei la mia ragazza e indovina cosa mi ha detto?" ha davvero sentito l'esigenza di specificare a un attore di Hollywood che sono la sua ragazza?

"Ehm e se prima ordino la pizza e poi indovino?" domanda retorica mentre mi levo la giacca e acchiappo il cordless.

"Che sicuramente ci saremmo incrociati tutti più spesso sul set, visto che Cam TI HA OFFERTO UNA CAZZO DI PARTE NEL FILM" Eddie svela il tutto e alza la voce proprio quando ho finito di digitare il numero e mi accosto il telefono all'orecchio.

"Con doppio formaggio va bene?"

"Sì." concede e poi mi porta per mano fino al divano mentre finisco di ordinare "Ma sei una bugiarda"

"Non è vero, te l'avevo detto! Ti ho anche raccontato di come sono scappata e della relativa figura di merda" tento di giustificarmi con lui, che mi guarda come un preside che ascolta le scuse dello studente nei guai, indeciso se sospenderlo o no, seduto ovviamente dal lato opposto del divano a mille chilometri da me.

"Mi hai detto che eri scappata perché c'era troppa gente famosa e ti stava salendo l'ansia e non perché Crowe ti aveva appena proposto di recitare nel film"

"Non è una bugia, tecnicamente è più un'omissione"

"E perché avresti omesso di dirmi questa cosa?"

"Perché se lo avessi saputo avresti tentato di convincermi ad accettare"

"Perché? Non vuoi accettare?" mi chiede improvvisamente meravigliato e si sposta sul divano nella mia direzione.

"Ecco, appunto"

"Ma perché?" Eddie si avvicina ancora un pochino. Perché? Come se non mi conoscesse.

"Perché… non è roba mia"

"Ma il cinema… è roba tua, non dovrebbe essere tipo il tuo lavoro?" si avvicina ancora di più finché le nostre ginocchia si sfiorano.

"Io voglio scrivere per il cinema, non recitare"

Eddie scioglie le mie gambe, che erano incrociate fino a un secondo fa, e le accomoda delicatamente sulle sue, mi tira a sé e ora siamo vicini che più di così non si può.

"Anch'io voglio scrivere e cantare canzoni, non fare il roadie. Ma i palchi li ho montati lo stesso. Fa tutto parte del sistema, da qualche parte bisogna entrare"

"Tu lo facevi per vederti i concerti gratis"

"E pensa che tu puoi guardarti un film gratis, da dentro il film." ribadisce stringendomi "Puoi vedere come si fa un film, vedere gli attori"

"Gli attori non mi interessano e i film si vedono molto meglio da fuori, fidati"

"Angie, posso chiederti una cosa?"

"Sì" rispondo affermativamente e mi aspetto già il discorso corretto e perfettamente logico, oltre che quasi sicuramente simpatico, con cui metterà a nudo la stupidità delle mie insicurezze e dimostrerà che accettare quella parte è l'unica cosa sensata da fare e mi convincerà a dire di sì ed è esattamente questo il motivo per cui non volevo dirgli un cazzo di niente.

"Anzi due"

"Ok"

"Dov'è Meg?"

"È andata a fare la hostess a un congresso di cardiologia o roba così, e ha detto che dopo sarebbe andata a ballare con le altre ragazze, quindi tornerà sul tardi"

"E quando arriva la pizza?" mi spiazza e io cerco di capire quanto larga la stia prendendo e dove voglia andare a parare col suo discorso motivazionale partendo dalla mia coinquilina e passando per la pizza.

"Tra una mezz'ora. Perché?"

"Perché… lo so che stiamo discutendo di cose importanti e non vorrei assolutamente sembrare fuori luogo, ma siamo soli e si possono fare tante cose in mezz'ora e sei così sexy quando ti ostini a difendere le tue indifendibili opinioni e sono più o meno quindici anni che non facciamo sesso, quindi che ne diresti di andare un attimo di là in camera tua?"

"Come fanno a essere quindici anni se ci conosciamo da meno di uno?"

"Tsk vuoi fare la scrittrice e non sai riconoscere un'iperbole?"

"Una che?"

"Un'iperbole"

"Ridillo"

"Iperbole"

"Sei sexy quando dici iperbole, potresti dirlo con un tono più indifendibile?"

"Vaffanculo. Andiamo?"

Siccome sono brava a fare la figa opponendo resistenza, dopo circa trenta secondi siamo nel mio letto. E siamo ancora lì esattamente sette minuti dopo, a comunicare tramite fiatone nel buio.

"Un po' veloce, eh?"

"Veloce, ma efficace"

"Te l'ho detto che mi sembravano quindici anni…"

"Se questi sono gli effetti, consiglio di proseguire a vederci con questa frequenza"

"Che stronza!" riesco a distinguere il suo profilo sorridente nell'oscurità, mentre si avvicina "Comunque, tornando al discorso di prima…"

"Ah vuoi tornare al discorso di prima? Pensavo l'avessi ormai archiviato causa bisogni più urgen- AHIA!" scherzo e lui, stretto a me, si vendica con un pizzicotto dove non batte il sole.

"No, non l'ho archiviato. E fai la brava, perché sto per fare un discorso serio"

"Mmm ok, spara" eccolo che arriva il cazziatone sotto mentite spoglie che mi porterà ad accettare la proposta.

"Non voglio dirti cosa fare, perché alla fine sei tu che devi decidere. Posso solo darti la mia opinione. Io penso che sotto sotto vorresti buttarti in questa cosa, ma hai paura o ti vergogni o entrambe. Non so se lo sai fare, ma Crowe è un professionista, credo sia in grado di capire se una persona sa recitare o meno e non ti affiderebbe mai una parte al di sopra delle tue capacità. Anch'io ho una battuta, sai?"

"Ma io ne ho più di una, è questo il problema!"

"Sicuramente a lui non frega un cazzo delle nostre doti attoriali, vuole che interpretiamo noi stessi, quindi anche tu, dovrai solo essere te stessa"

"Ok, mi correggo, è questo il problema"

"Io non…" i miei occhi si sono adattati all'oscurità e vedo quasi tutti i dettagli del suo viso mentre cerca di mettere insieme quello che vuole dire "Ripeto, non voglio dirti cosa fare e qualsiasi sarà la tua decisione, io la appoggerò, ma non vedo perché non dovresti provare. Nella peggiore delle ipotesi, se proprio non dovesse andare, Cam potrebbe sempre tagliare la tua parte, non hai niente da perdere"

"Tranne la faccia"

"Mmm non fingere di essere una fifona"

"Ahahah secondo te faccio finta? Certo, in realtà sono super coraggiosa"

"Sei molto coraggiosa. Da quando ti conosco, ti ho vista fare un sacco di cose che magari all'inizio non volevi nemmeno sentire nominare: giocare a basket con noi, suonare la batteria, salire sullo Space Needle, ballare in una discoteca piena di gente senza timidezza, prendere un aereo per San Diego da sola…" mi dà un bacio dopo l'ultima voce in elenco "Io non c'ero ancora, ma ho saputo che hai addirittura preso l'ascensore di questo palazzo una volta"

"Lì ho rischiato seriamente"

"Insomma, mi sembra che tu sia abbastanza brava nel fare le cose che ti spaventano di più, questa sarebbe solo l'ennesima dimostrazione di quanto sei figa, non rischieresti nulla"

E io vorrei dirgli che non sono né figa né coraggiosa e che se ho fatto ognuna di quelle cose è perché ogni volta c'era qualcun altro a spingermi e che con me basta una piccola insistenza ed è davvero facile farmi dire di sì. Ma per una volta non voglio esagerare, non voglio farlo sbuffare come mio solito e risultare la pesantona complessata di sempre, non voglio distruggere le sue convinzioni: voglio dire, se si è disegnato questo ritrattino di Angie l'Intrepida nella mente, chi sono io per confutarlo? Allo stesso tempo, non ho idea di che cazzo dire perché non ho mai capito come diavolo si risponda ai complimenti, cioè, chi avrebbe dovuto insegnarmelo e quando? In genere rispondo con una battuta sarcastica, ma ora sono a letto col mio ragazzo e qualcosa mi dice che non sarebbe la reazione migliore. Allora cosa faccio? Mostro disagio? Ridimensiono le sue lusinghe? Giustifico il motivo della riuscita di tutte le esperienze che ha elencato? Diffido? Gongolo? Non dico niente? Cambio argomento? Ringrazio e stop? In mio soccorso arriva il suono del citofono.

"Oh. O Meg ha spezzato tutti i cuori al congresso dei cardiologi oppure la nostra pizza è in anticipo" Eddie si stacca da me e si tira su a sedere sul letto.

"Tocca alzarsi per scoprirlo"

"Vado io, tranquilla" Eddie con ritrovata energia improvvisa scatta come una molla giù dal letto e corre di là.

"EDDIE?!" gli urlo dietro mentre scappa, ma non mi ascolta. Riappare sulla porta della mia camera un minuto dopo.

"È la pizza" fa come se niente fosse.

"MA SEI ANDATO COSÌ?" insisto rintanata sotto il piumone, mentre lui accende la luce ed esplora il pavimento della stanza. E meno male che sono già in posizione distesa, se no avrei potuto avere dei cedimenti.

"Così come?" domanda distratto, poi trova i suoi boxer ai piedi del letto e, tirandoli su, finalmente mi guarda. E io lo guardo. E allora capisce "Ho solo risposto al citofono, mica mi vede" sorride sornione mettendosi le mutande.

"Meno male…"

"Non fare finta di essere gelosa, non sei credibile" s'infila al volo i pantaloni cargo e la camicia rossa a quadri, abbottonandola a casaccio.

"I soldi per la pizza sono nel mobile qua fuori in corridoio, nel cassetto"

"Ok." fa per uscire di nuovo dalla camera, ma poi si volta "Che fai? Non vieni?"

"Adesso arrivo"

"Ok"

"Ok" rispondo, sempre sotto il piumone, mentre lui non si schioda da lì.

"O magari vuoi cenare a letto?" il maledetto mi fa l'occhiolino.

"No no, niente briciole nel mio letto, mangiamo di là"

"Va bene"

"Ok" e resta lì.

"Dai, che poi si raffredda se no"

"Ti ho detto che adesso arrivo, vai e ti raggiungo!" mi scappa quasi da ridere, ma il ragazzo della pizza mi salva una seconda volta e suona il campanello. Eddie si arrende e va ad aprire, ma non sento il rumore del cassettino che si apre. E che cazzo. Mi alzo dal letto in volata e chiudo la porta prima di infilarmi il pigiama a tempo di record. Quando esco dalla camera facciamo quasi un frontale: lo stronzetto pensava di cogliermi in flagrante!

"Già pronta?" chiede fingendo di passare di lì per caso.

"Hai pagato?"

"Sì"

"Ma se i soldi sono qui?" apro il cassetto incriminato e li sbugiardo.

"Li ho presi dal mio portafoglio"

"E perché?"

"Per fare prima. Ora vieni o stiamo qui a discutere finché la pizza non diventa immangiabile?"

"Andiamo, va!" vorrei prenderlo per mano, ma finisco per tirarlo per la manica sbottonata della camicia, e lo porto fino al divano. Eddie agguanta subito una fetta di pizza e io faccio in tempo a tirargli i tovaglioli di carta minacciandolo "Se sporchi il mio divano ti ammazzo"

"Che film vediamo, micetta?"

"Vediamo Grano Rosso Sangue!" rispondo entusiasta premendo PLAY sul telecomando e avventandomi anch'io sulla pizza.

"Dal titolo immagino sia una commedia romantica con lieto fine assicurato"

"Ovvio"

"E dici che posso mangiare mentre lo guardo?"

"Ahah sì, tranquillo, non è così forte" apro due birre e gliene allungo una.

"Avevi detto la stessa cosa di Hellraiser"

"Va beh, sei tu che sei sensibile! Comunque questo è moooolto più soft, non c'è paragone, direi che è quasi comico"

"Ok, mi fido, micetta" brindiamo con le nostre lattine e iniziamo la visione.

***

"Beh proprio comico… non direi…" il film è finito, così come pizza e birra.

"Ma dai, vogliamo parlare della recitazione? E poi, quegli effetti speciali del cazzo! Sembra che a un certo punto abbiano finito i soldi"

"Lì avranno spesi tutti in granturco"

"Ahah esatto! Ehi, comunque lo sai che anch'io in un certo senso sono stata una figlia del grano?"

"Eri membro di una setta satanica di baby-assassini?" Eddie, che era ormai accasciato in un tutt'uno col divano, si tira un po' su incuriosito.

"Eheheh no, anche perché a quest'età mi avrebbero già sacrificata"

"E allora?"

"Beh, hai presente i lavoretti estivi di quando eri piccolo? Ok, tu sei di San Diego, quindi boh, il vostro concetto di lavoro estivo includerà cose tipo bagnino, cameriere, gelataio, roba così, no?"

"Più o meno. Invece in Idaho?"

"In Idaho si andava a castrare il mais!"

"Ahahah cosa?" a questo punto ho catturato tutta l’attenzione di Eddie, che si mette a sedere composto e mi si avvicina.

"Ci sono andata per quattro anni di fila, a Notus"

"Che cazzo significa castratura? Il mais si castra?"

Segue ovviamente la mia mini-lezione di agricoltura che Eddie non vedeva l'ora di ascoltare. Nelle serate speciali i fidanzati parlano di progetti, si scoprono lentamente, flirtano. Io invece parlo di come il mais abbia fiori sia maschili sia femminili, spiegando che se rimuovi la parte maschile della pianta questa non s’impollinerà da sola, ma potrà essere fecondata dalla varietà scelta dal contadino, che non verrà cimata, creando così degli ibridi.

"In parole povere il lavoro consisteva nel camminare ore e ore nei campi di mais, strappando le cime dalle piante a mani nude. Iniziavi la mattina, quando era tutto bello umido, e finivi al pomeriggio zuppo di sudore per il caldo. Anche perché dovevi per forza metterti pantaloni lunghi e maniche lunghe se non volevi affettarti completamente la pelle"

"Foglie affilate?"

"Come dei cazzo di rasoi, Eddie, non puoi capire"

"Il lavoro ideale per dei bambini, insomma"

"Sono certa che ora sarai più comprensivo con Malachi”

"Ahahah sì! Ora capisco perché si sono ribellati, poveracci"

"Secondo me Colui che cammina nel grano in realtà un bambino che si era perso castrando il mais morendo dissanguato e la sua anima continua a vagare nei campi in cerca dei genitori per vendicarsi"

"Grano Rosso del sangue di bambini impiegati nel lavoro minorile"

"Di quelli in maglietta a mezze maniche! Però facevo dodici dollari l'ora…"

"Non male! Comunque, praticamente eravate i contraccettivi del granoturco"

"Eravamo Planned Parenthood del mais"

"Quindi anche il mais fa sesso. E più di noi, mi sa”

"Ahahahah Eddie!" mi alzo scandalizzata, e vado a buttare sia il cartone della pizza sia le lattine di birra vuote.

"Preferirei non essere castrato però"

"Sei un coglione! Da quanto ci stavi girando attorno per andare a parare lì?"

"Da un po'. Comunque scherzo, micetta"

"Lo so" mi risiedo di ritorno dalla cucina.

"È solo che… insomma, ci siamo appena messi assieme, dovremmo essere nel pieno della nostra fase Luna di miele, invece io non ci sono mai e mi dispiace un sacco"

"Nella fase che??"

"Sì, insomma, la prima fase di una relazione. Quando ti cerchi in continuazione… euforia, tanta attenzione reciproca, coccole, continua ricerca del contatto fisico, passione, chimica … hai presente?"

"Beh, direi che ce le abbiamo ugualmente queste cose, no? Solo, sono più… diluite nel tempo"

"Eh io preferirei concentrarle"

"Ma non è necessariamente un male. Vedila così: in questo modo ti stuferai di me mooolto più tardi"

"Perché devi dire queste cose?" non è che proprio s’incazzi, ma si vede chiaramente che si scurisce un po’ in volto.

"Eheh ma sì, era una battuta"

"Lo so, ma non mi piace quando fai queste battute. Su io che ti lascio, che mi stufo… è come se lo facessi per normalizzare la cosa, per prepararti a quando dovrebbe succedere"

"Ma va, figurati" invece è esattamente così, cazzo, e non avrei saputo sintetizzare meglio il concetto. Se mi scappa di dire certe cose non è perché voglio essere rassicurata da lui che non accadranno mai, ma proprio perché so per certo che accadranno e almeno così mi abituo all'idea.

"Sono esagerato, lo so. Non voglio farne un dramma, è solo che io non ci penso proprio alla fine della storia, non mi viene da pensarci, neanche per scherzo"

"Magari è perché abbiamo avuto esperienze diverse, tutto qui"

"Già. Comunque non volevo fare polemica, chi se ne frega delle altre esperienze, pensiamo a questa adesso, ok? E poi, soprattutto oggi" mi prende per le mani e il sorriso corredato di fossette torna prepotente.

"Eheh perché oggi?"

"Beh, perché è un giorno speciale"

"Wow il fatto che ti sono mancata così tanto mi lusinga, ma basta così poco per rendere una giornata speciale?"

"Lo è sempre quando stiamo assieme, ma… stavolta non è speciale solo per quello"

"Ah no? E per cosa?"

"Beh, dovresti saperlo…"

Oh cazzo.

"Mmm dovrei?"

"Angie, che giorno è oggi?" mi lascia le mani e, a braccia conserte, dà inizio all’interrogazione.

"Giovedì"

"Sì, ma che giorno è?"

"14 marzo"

"E che giorno è?"

"Il tuo compleanno è a dicembre"

"Infatti non è il mio compleanno. E nemmeno il tuo"

"Onomastico? Non sapevo fossi cattolico"

"No e no" dal fatto che sta sorridendo capisco che non sono nei guai, ma è chiaro che non sto facendo una gran figura.

"Dovevamo fare qualcosa e me ne sono completamente dimenticata?"

"No, è una cosa che abbiamo già fatto, tempo fa." mi spiega e quando vede il nulla cosmico nei miei occhi mi dà un altro indizio “Una cosa fatta in questo giorno”

"Ma l'anno scorso a marzo non ci conoscevamo, non ero nemmeno qui"

"Non andare così indietro"

"In che senso?"

"Un mese fa, che giorno era?" alza gli occhi al cielo e mi concede l’ennesimo aiutino.

"14 febbraio, San Valentino?"

"E dov'eri un mese fa a quest'ora?"

"Boh, come da 18 anni a questa parte, a letto a dormire molto probabilmente"

"No. Pensaci bene, dov'eri?"

"Aspetta, sì, ero su un autobus per Seattle"

"Va beh, e invece qualche ora prima? Dov'eri? Che facevi? Angie, mi stai facendo sudare, cazzo"

"Aaaaaaaaaah! La so! Alla stazione dei pullman! Ci siamo baciati!"

"BINGO!" Eddie fa partire persino un mini applauso, non so se di sollievo o per prendermi per il culo o tutt’e due.

"Evvai! Visto che c'è l'ho fatta?"

"Quindi capisci perché è speciale"

"È stato bello, sì. Io a un certo punto non capivo più un cazzo, ma è stato un momento indimenticabile" lui mi ha baciata e io ho cominciato a sentire i Depeche Mode nella mia testa e poi non mi ricordavo più nemmeno dov’ero, se non mi ci avesse messa lui su quel pullman sarei ancora lì molto probabilmente.

"Sì ed è stato il momento da cui è iniziato tutto. Insomma, è una specie di ricorrenza, no? Non è un anniversario, ma…"

"È un mesiversario! Ahahahahah come dicono i dodicenni, che contano i mesi"

"Beh, è un mese che stiamo insieme, quindi…"

"Un mese che…? In che senso, perché tu… conti dal bacio?"

"Sì, per me è partito da lì. Perché? Tu da quando conti?"

"Io non conto"

"Eh?"

"Cioè, non mi sono mai posta la questione. Non sapevo di dover contare, ecco"

"Non sapevi di dover contare" ripete guardandomi con aria quasi esterrefatta.

"Io non… ti ho spiegato che non ho avuto relazioni proprio regolari, no?"

"Stai dicendo che non hai mai contato?"

"Esatto, quelli con cui stavo non erano interessati a queste cose. E quindi non me ne sono mai interessata nemmeno io. Non ho mai festeggiato anniversari, mesiversari o giorniversari. Le mie storie sono sempre state così brevi che non c'è stato neanche il tempo di capire se poteva andarmi di festeggiare"

"Beh, non è che sia indispensabile avere una data. Però… no, fanculo, non è vero, io voglio una data, mi serve, quindi se per te va bene, il 14 febbraio è il nostro giorno, ok?" il suo dibattito interiore si vede benissimo anche da fuori e mi fa sorridere.

"Quello che per te è il nostro giorno coincide con la festa più ipocrita e commerciale del mondo, te ne sei accorto?"

"Certo! E trasformarla nel nostro giorno è il più grande atto rivoluzionario che possiamo fare, non credi?"

"Beh, è un punto di vist- ASPETTA" non sorrido più perché ho appena realizzato che non c’è un cazzo da ridere.

"Eheh che c'è?"

"Sono giorni che parli di questa serata speciale. Perché tu intendevi questo! Celebrare il nostro… Oddio, mesiversario?!"

"Sì, ma non è che dovessimo fare chissà quale celebrazione, quello che abbiamo fatto va benissimo"

"Ma non vale comunque se io non ne sapevo un cazzo! Me ne sono dimenticata, capisci? Mi sento una merda" fisso il tappeto della sala e mi ci vorrei arrotolare dentro per poi farmi buttare in discarica dalla vergogna.

"Ahahah ma no, perché?"

"Tu hai pensato a una cosa dolce e io sono la fidanzata anaffettiva del cazzo" prendo un cuscino dal divano e ci affondo la faccia dentro.

"Anaffettiva tu? Ma dove?!"

"Sono una stronza. Per fortuna non mi hai fatto anche il regalo, se no sarei una stronza al cubo"

"Uhm…"

"Eddie?" la sua esitazione mi porta a levarmi il cuscino dalla faccia e la risposta la leggo sulla sua.

"Non è che ti abbia proprio preso un regalo…"

"MA PORCA DI QUELLA TROIA" stavolta mi accascio direttamente sul bracciolo del divano.

"Ma è una cosa per tutt'e due, non necessariamente per festeggiare il mese" prova a indorare la pillola mentre si alza a recuperare la giacca per prendere qualcosa dalle tasche.

"Cioè, tu mi hai fatto anche il regalo. E io non ti nemmeno fatto un panino. Ho ordinato una pizza. CHE HAI PURE PAGATO TU!"

"Micetta, non ti agitare" torna qui e si inginocchia sul tappeto davanti a me, facendomi salire ulteriormente l’ansia.

"Consiglio: MAI chiamarmi micetta quando sono agitata"

"Senti, ho solo preso due biglietti per Neil Young al Coliseum ad aprile. Li avrei presi comunque, mesiversario a parte" spiega mostrandomi i due talloncini bianchi e azzurri.

"Non posso credere che tu dica mesiversario, sei un adulto" tiro un sospiro di sollievo, anche se mi sento sempre una merda.

"Stai cercando di farmi sentire scemo?” pensandoci, io mi sento stupida per essermene dimenticata, ma come deve sentirsi lui? Che ha fatto tutto questo cinema quando io nemmeno ci pensavo lontanamente e in più ne sto facendo una tragedia greca.

"No! È piuttosto evidente ormai che sono io la scema della coppia" Eddie mi mette i biglietti tra le mani e poi le prende tra le sue.

"Allora, quello che sto cercando di dire è che li ho presi e basta, a prescindere dalle ricorrenze, perché appena ho saputo del concerto la prima cosa a cui ho pensato è che ci sarei andato insieme a te. Ho pensato di darti il biglietto oggi perché, sempre per il discorso di prima, mi sembrava un bel modo per dirti Ehi, Angie, non sono sparito, ci sono ancora e voglio stare con te e fare cose con te e anche se sembra che le correnti mi trascinino via di tanto in tanto, tu non mi perderai mai perché le correnti cambiano di continuo, ma io tornerò sempre e solo da te"

"Hai proprio un debole per le metafore surfistiche, non c'è che dire"

"Vaffanculo, Angie. Dal profondo del mio cuore" mi bacia e non posso fare a meno di pensare a quanto mi piace farmi mandare a quel paese da Eddie.

"Ora devo pensare a cosa regalarti che sia all'altezza"

"Non mi devi regalare niente, non mi devi nulla" scuote la testa mentre si alza dal pavimento e si risiede sul divano.

"Va beh, se voglio farti un regalo per il secondo mesiversario? Chi me lo vieta? Stavolta me lo segno sul calendario però"

"Ahah non è che adesso dobbiamo festeggiare tutti i mesi"

"Come no? E io come la recupero la figura di merda?"

"Non la recuperi, così io mantengo il vantaggio nelle nostre dinamiche di coppia"

"Io già pregustavo il quinto, con la curiosa frapposizione tra il nostro mesiversario e l'anniversario della Presa della Bastiglia: i due atti rivoluzionari per eccellenza"

"Vedo che ancora prendi per il culo" io scappo di nuovo scivolando dall’altro capo del divano, ma lui mi segue e mi è praticamente addosso.

"Chi? Io? No!"

"Sei sexy quando lo fai"

"Allora sì, ti sto decisamente prendendo per il culo, alla grande proprio"

"La verità è che fai e dici un sacco di cose sexy, te ne sei accorta?"

"Sì vede che quello è il mio vantaggio nelle dinamiche di coppia"

"Anche questa, molto sexy"

"Vuoi, tipo… andare di là?"

"E mi leggi anche nel pensiero”

“Ma non riesco a leggere proprio tutto tutto”

“No?”

“Eh no”

“Allora mi sa che mi tocca darti qualche dritta”

“Prego, sono tutta orecchi”

#grunge fanfiction #fanfiction in italiano #pearl jam fanfiction #eddie vedder fanfiction #jerry cantrell #layne staley #alice in chains #stone gossard #pearl jam #eddie vedder

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glorifiedgpjfic · 1 year

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Chapter 48

As Jo drove to work she began making a mental list of what she wanted to discuss in therapy, she felt although it was easier to plan what she wanted to cover in each session to avoid rambling and not making as much progress as she possibly could. When she’d first started seeing Dr Isles, she found that for the first few sessions, she would tend to info dump and jump from one topic to another, which, luckily Dr Isles could just about keep up with, it took Jo a while to even realise she did it - so she made a note to be sure to know what she wanted to talk about in each session so she could tick it off as she went. She began trying to figure out what she was actually feeling, it was challenging because she knew she felt annoyed, yet somehow she felt angry, not at Eddie but herself, for not standing up for herself and her job, she felt angry at Marc O’Leary for being a misogynistic prick, she was angry for his first victim who wasn’t believed. But the problem with this anger was that there was nowhere for her to direct it or channel it so last night she had aimed it directly at the one person who didn’t deserve it.

When Jo arrived at work she was eager to get to therapy, she needed to vent desperately. She made a beeline to the office where her therapist was waiting for her, she took a seat opposite Dr Isles,

“Good morning, Jo- How are you feeling today?” Jo couldn’t help but let out a quiet chuckle,

“Well…” Jo then went on to explain how she was feeling about not being in the field and how she wasn’t quite adjusting to the new role, she explained how she was unintentionally growing resentful towards Eddie which she knew was unfair, when she finally finished speaking her mouth was dry and she found herself gulping down a glass of water, Dr Isles pondered what Jo had told him for a few moments.

“I understand why your boyfriend doesn’t want you to be in the field, he obviously cares about you very deeply, I think you feel angry because you aren’t used to having someone looking out for you- since your grandparents died when you were young, you’ve grown up with a very small circle and now that's expanding and it scares you that someone cares about you. You’ve always been able to take risks with your job and do whatever you wanted, and now you feel that you’re losing control in your life, because for the first time ever you aren’t the only character in your story. And you don’t know how to let someone care for you.” There was a brief silence,

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, I don’t want to give up a big part of myself just so that Eddie sleeps at night. It’s like me asking him to stop singing just in case someone stalks him- it's unreasonable!”

“Why do you think it’s unreasonable?”

“Because I’m standing down because of a ‘what if’, this job is all I’ve ever done and I’m not dead yet. Why does this have to be the compromise?”

“I can’t answer that, only you and Eddie can.”

At potatohead Eddie was stewing, he seemed withdrawn which in the past wasn’t a good sign for the band, it was Jeff who broke the silence,

“What’s going on Ed?”

“I think I fucked up.” He went on to explain the situation and how Jo had spoken to him, he felt guilty but he thought it would be better to feel guilty than to have to plan Jo’s funeral. But then again he didn’t want to lose her again, he was so conflicted. The guys had very little input, the best they could offer their distressed friend was a place to vent without judgement, which he obviously needed.

Jo left her session with Dr Isles feeling confused, she needed to talk to Eddie and she needed to stop trying to avoid hurting his feelings they needed to talk frankly. On her way back to her desk she bumped into a very stressed Eleanor,

“I need your help,” Jo nodded and followed Eleanor to her desk, “it’s the Bonnie and Clyde case.” Jo felt her stomach drop, this case had been on her mind for weeks; the case had so many parallels to her parents and she knew that mentally she was not strong enough to even think about them. “We finally got them, it’s just-” Eleanor paused, “we can’t get a word out of them, they’ve lawyered up but we can’t find their latest victims.” Eleanor handed Jo a thick brown folder, “They’ve changed MO completely since you were on the case, hell, they’ve changed MO at least three times.”

“Is that what’s happening? Are they changing MO, or are they devolving?” Jo asked and Eleanor couldn’t answer, “So they’ve gone from burglary to murder and now they’ve abducted a couple?” Eleanor nodded, “what do we know about the couple they took?” Jo began flipping through the file looking for details about the couple but there wasn’t much, they seemed to be completely normal.

“We don’t have much about our Bonnie and Clyde, other than their names; Rose Hindley and Ian Knowles, we’ve got nothing on their history, it’s like they never existed.”

Jo was interested to find out whether the names they had were real, she couldn’t help but think of Myra Hindley and Ian Brady and the Moors murders. Were the names just coincidence? Or were they fake names chosen to pay homage to two of England’s most evil murderers? This thought made Jo nervous, why of all the duos would they name themselves after British killers? She pondered whether it seemed like something her parents would do, the truth was she didn’t know. She knew nothing about them, and truthfully she hoped they were dead. Eleanor led her to the interrogation room where Ian Knowles and his lawyer were having a hushed conversation, Joanne was relieved to see that Ian was no older than forty. Jo watched through the one-way mirror as he spoke to his lawyer gesturing frantically with his hands, his eyes were dark and Joanne was eager to speak to him; however, the lawyer was likely to make things difficult.

Before deciding who to speak to first Joanne went to observe Rose Hindley, she needed to try and figure out how their dynamic worked. In contrast to Ian, Rose sat ignoring her lawyer staring blankly at her reflection in the mirror, she was calm and collected; it quickly became apparent to Jo that she was the dominant one in their relationship. Now she just needed to figure out how to get her to talk, in previous cases, Jo had managed to manipulate the submissive one in the dynamic to turn on their partner and spill all the details of the case, she didn’t feel although this case would be quite so straight forward.

Eleanor and Joanne spent a few hours trying to decide how to approach the interrogation and before they knew it the day had flown by, they had decided to leave the pair’s interrogation until the morning. They had informed William of their plan for the morning and he had approved of it, offering to help should they need it.

“Today has been long.” Eleanor sighed as they gathered their belongings at their respective desks,

“You’re telling me, shall we go for a drink?” Jo had suggested and Eleanor had quickly agreed, so Jo had driven them to her apartment where she left her car and they had walked to the off ramp. Jo had noticed that there were no lights on in the apartment suggesting that Eddie wasn’t home yet, which she thought was strange unless he’d gone back to ‘Casa Cornell’ or was still at potatohead.

What was intended to be one drink quickly turned into several drinks and soon enough Eleanor was excusing herself to go home, she was quite the lightweight which surprised Jo. Not being ready to go home just yet Jo opted to stay for one more, which was a lie. She moved from the booth she and Eleanor had occupied to a stool by the bar, she felt out of place as she was still wearing her suit and everyone else was dressed much more casually. She stared blankly into her Amaretto and cranberry and thought about what she’d discussed in therapy earlier that day, she was desperate for a solution that wouldn’t ruin her relationship; but spending today with El and working on the interrogation made her miss being in the field even more. She missed how each case was a new puzzle and how she would be there for every stage, from the crime being reported to the suspects being arrested, sometimes she’d even be there in court to testify, she got to do it all. Whereas now, now she was stuck in a loop of; go to prison, speak to rapists and murderers, make notes, leave prison, repeat. And as much as she had found the research interesting it was monotonous, and she felt stir-crazy.

After a few more drinks she found herself feeling more chatty and upbeat, she struck up a conversation with the bartender and was laughing at a joke he’d told when she felt a tap on the shoulder, she spun around on her stool and was surprised to see Chris standing there with a concerned expression on his face,

“OMG! Cornell! What are you doing here? I am so happy to see you!” Jo jumped up from her stool and threw her arms around him some of her drink spilt down his back but he didn’t mention it, Jo quickly turned back to the bar and ordered a drink for her and Chris but before the bartender could start making the drinks Chris changed the order to two glasses of water, which Jo immediately began complaining about.

“Why don’t you go find us a booth? Somewhere we can talk,” Chris suggested with a reassuring smile, Jo nodded and bounded off in search of a booth. Chris soon joined her with their waters,

“Jo, what’s going on?”

#pearl jam fanfic #pearl jam fanfiction #eddie vedder fanfiction #eddie vedder #stone gossard #jeff ament #dave abbruzzese #mike mccready #grunge fanfic #grunge fanfiction

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aboysbestfriendishismum · 2 years

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Chapter 59. Hands, donuts and blind dates

In the previous chapter: Angie casually runs into three girls who show a particular interest for the PJ guys, especially Eddie. Angie satisfies their curiosity, at first only admitting she knows him and then revealing she's his new girlfriend in a blatant manner, that is kissing him right in front of them. She's surprised by her own behaviour and asks Meg for an opinion. Her friend explains she was probably looking for approval from the girls and that a small part of her wanted to brag about being Eddie's girl a little. Later on, after the show, Eddie and Jerry are animatedly talking about sports, Angie sees them and runs to interrupt them, thinking they might be quarreling about her. When she finds out the truth she's perplexed, she can't believe those two can act around each other as if nothing happened. Eddie reveals that they agreed not to talk about her for any reason. Angie convinces Eddie to make a similar agreement with her and avoid talking about Jerry. Eddie accepts but in exchange Angie has to tell him what's her second name. It's Wildwind. After they indulged all night in PDAs around the club so that they could be "caught" by their friends, as they see no reaction whatsoever from the gang, Eddie and Angie finally make an official revelation. When they realize everybody already knew, Eddie's amused, Angie's almost disappointed.

***

“Are they filming inside or outside?" we park outside Miller Community Center, as I get out of the car I notice some barriers at the end of the road and I suspect they must have been put there to delimit the set.

“Outside, I think. I mean, they generally film exterior day scenes first, then you film indoors” Angie shrugs and retrieves from the backseats one of the two boxes I borrowed from the mini mart to carry the insanely large amount of donuts she prepared.

“I believed they were filming interior locations, Stone told me about Cam renting a whole apartment building. He'll take part in a shooting too in the next few days, in a garage or something like that" I do the same with the other box and slam the door shut with my hip, while Angie puts her box on the roof of the car to lock it .

“I guess this is the apartment building he told you about, if multiple scenes are set in this location, they're gonna stay here for a while. Anyway they're shooting the band scene tomorrow, Eddie told me”

“What do you think, are these enough?” I joke as I lift the box slightly, walking on the sidewalk and trying to pay attention to where I'm going despite the bulky box.

“Hahaha oh well, they're not so many after all, if you think about it, there must be something like 40/50 people working on set... a hundred pieces seem ok to me”

“Sorry, I think I didn’t understand right, did you fry a hundred donuts?”

“More or less”

“One hundred??”

“I don't have class until next week, I have a little more free time...”

“During Spring Break people usually go on holiday or get trashed at parties”

“I cook instead, I spend my time in a more productive way, granting myself the access to a true movie set”

“You got a pass hanging on your neck with your name and photo, they'd let you in anyway, even without the goods”

“But the welcome is warmer like this, trust me”

“What did you bring the first time?” I know there was a first time for Angie, with Meg, at the beginning of the week, at Gas Works Park. This time her roommate blew her off, so she came and picked me up at Westlake's at the end of my shift. She basically forced me. I can't see why it's so difficult for her to go alone and empty handed to a movie set she was specifically invited to by the director himself. At worst, they could keep me out but from what I heard, they're not too strict. So what's the problem?

“Focaccia. This time I went with sweets”

We get to the crossroad and, as soon as we turn the corner we're met by a guy from the crew, who nods at Angie first, then at me, and then moves one of the barriers slightly out of the way to let us in. It looks like he already knows my friend.

“Right on time for lunch break!” the guy rubs his hands, while Angie temporarily places her box on a fire hydrant on the side of the street and opens it a little so he can take his donut..

“Take two, there are many” she urges him.

“There are enough to feed the whole of Cleopatra's crew, don't worry” I add, although the guy surely doesn't need any encouragement from me to have seconds.

“Thank you. Now go, I know Cam's waiting for you!” Richie, that's what's written on his pass, folds the flaps back to close the box and says bye, with his mouth full.

“See? Warm welcome” Angie smiles and after taking a more secure hold on the box, walks up to the actual set, followed by me.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure Grace, shoot”

“Will you come back on set tomorrow?”

“No”

“Why?”

“I can't come here every single day. Ok, Cameron Crowe invited me, but I can't abuse his generosity”

"So why today and not tomorrow?”

“What?”

“Why are we, I mean, you here today and not tomorrow?”

“Why? What difference does it make?” Angie gives me a perplexed look and, as it often occurs, I can't understand if she does it on purpose or if she really doesn't know where I'm getting at.

"Tomorrow the guys are here, today they're not. If you already knew, why didn't you plan to come here tomorrow in the first place?” I've barely seen Stone lately, since they started recording the album and I guess it's the same for Angie. If I were her, I'd have taken the chance to do both.

“'Cause this time tomorrow you're working” she gives me a totally senseless answer.

“What about me? Forget me, you can come here by yourself or with anybody else, I'm.just a random guest, a +1 on the list"

“For that and also because I'm working the opening shift at Roxy's tomorrow morning”

"Well, that's so much better, if you open the restaurant, you'll finish earlier and you'll have all the time to get here"

“But I'll be fuckin' tired”

“Too tired to visit a movie set? You?” I don't believe you one bit, say it all, darling!

“The sacred fire of art is strong but I gotta take the car and drive up here…"

"Fifteen minutes drive at most"

"After a heavy work shift starting at dawn? No, thanks”

“Not even for Eddie?” I elbow her so slightly not to knock her off balance, far be it from me to make her fall down on the ground, or worse, on her precious donuts.

“What's with Eddie? I don't need a movie set to see him”

“Really? Lucky you! To see Stone I almost have to make a joint written request both to Kelly and Epic”

“Hehe well yeah, they've been kinda busy lately, with the album and all the rest”

“One more reason to show up on set again tomorrow, so you can see him and mix business with pleasure”

"Umph, I'll be honest with you. I can't lie to you, no fun in it, you're not Meg”

“Is it a compliment or...?”

“It is, for both of you”

“Ok, go on then, tell me your truth”

“It's not that I can't do it, it's that I don't want to”

“Haha really? I really didn't get it, you know”

“I don't wanna be the too attached pain in the ass girlfriend, following his boyfriend around when he's working”

“But you'd be here to also see him and not only for him. First of all you'd be here for your personal professional interest”

“That's the key word: professional. I want to make a good impression, be professional, only professional. This is work, not a picnic”

“Even with focaccia and donuts?”

"Hahaha yes!"

“Nobody in the troupe would think you're here only to tag along your man and mind your own business”

“I would, if it was someone else.” she shrugs as much as she can holding the heavy box “It's like I showed up at London Bridge studios while they're making the record, I'd be out of place”

“I'm pretty sure they'd let you in if you showed up with these”

“How can you say it? You haven't tasted them yet”

“I can imagine”

In the end I do, once we get to a van with CATERING written on a sheet of printed paper taped on the passenger window. Actually it's just a spot where people can sit to eat their lunch quickly, as an alternative to the sidewalk or the stairs outside the apartment building, other key points chosen by crew members, actors included. I can see Matt Dillon sitting on one of the lowest steps, focused on devouring a sandwich and talking to the director, right beside him. And what better moment than now to go talk to a Hollywood star? And of course Angie has no intentions to do that, she doesn't move from the van and keeps up a long conversation with a girl from the makeup crew.

"The first day of work basically went by just to create Matt's appearance. He tried so many wigs, we chose the one that gave the most realistic touch but it took ages" she explains talking right about the main character. But why don't we go discuss it directly with the person involved? Huh? No?

“So many… like, how many?”

“120”

“GET OUT OF HERE!” Angie can't believe her ears, I can't believe my eyes as Matt finishes his lunch and stretches his toned arms a little. Stoney, my heart is yours, but beauty is there to be looked at.

“Swear to god. You know these actors, none was ok for him”

“This is ok though. Long, brown, wavy hair... doesn't it remind you of something, Angie? Or should I say, about someone?” I take another look at the handsome actor and hope to push my friend towards those stairs with my intentions. But for now I'm failing miserably. So I get revenge with a subtle remark.

“Yes, Stone. He reminds me a lot of Stone, don't you think? Him or like the haircut of 80% of the guys in Seattle”

“Ha-ha. I was thinking of someone else”

“Our boss at the makeup and costumes team brought us some pictures so that we could get an idea of this Seattle style”

“I'd say you hot it quite right!” Bridget Fonda is smoking a cigarette by herself under a tree a little further away and she's basically my friend Maureen's lookalike: flannel shirt, bowler hat, shorts, her signature outfit. Wait a minute “Matt is really perfect, he even has the same bermuda as Jeff”

“Because they are Jeff's” Angie answers as she pours herself coffee from the flask the girl has just handed to her, together with a plastic cup.

“What?”

“The guy who brought the clothes for Matt? Was his name Jeff?” another young woman asks, as she appears outside the open door of the van before treating herself with a donut.

“Yeah, he's a friend of ours. Cameron believed Jeff's style is, how can I say it, the most peculiar. Considering they're more or less the same size, Cam asked him if they could borrow his clothes”

“Hats too?” I laugh up my sleeve as I clean my mouth from the sugar with a napkin.

“Especially hats!”

"Does Laura know?"

“Haha I have no idea but she definitely needs to know her creations will enter film history” Angie grabs two donuts, puts them on a paper plate and gets out of the van, gesturing for me to follow her. For a minute there I believe I can finally take my pen and notepad out of my bag and get Dillon's autograph. This time I'm prepared unlike that night at the Off Ramp. Anyway it just takes me a few steps down the street to notice the actor left and is not sitting with Crowe anymore. Of course! Angue wouldn't have moved from that van otherwise.

“Hey, hi Angie, Grace! What have you brought us today? You know you don't have to” the director looks up from a bunch of photocopies of handwritten sheets of squared paper.

“Cream or chocolate?” she hands him the plate and he thinks for a whole.

“Can't we do both?”

“Sure, that was the plan” she gives them to him and sits down on his right, I sit on the opposite side on the same step, as he eats. I steal a glance at the van, the two actors are right in front of it now. Dillon is talking to the wardrobe girl we met before. She gives him a donut and points at us. In that moment Matt waves hi to us and right now I'd strangle Angie with my bare hands. But I don't. Would it seem disrespectful if I left her here and went to socialize with the cast? Maybe just a little bit.

“Oh talking about plans, I've got one too, you know? And it involves you, I really hoped you'd come back these days”

“Involves me? How?”

“Just wait a second” Cameron stands up and walks away munching on his second donut, as my plan to get these fuckin' autographs is still on hold.

“Maybe he has a job for you” I reply to a question Angie asked me silently, only with her confused eyes.

"Yeah, sure, forget it. You need qualifications to work in a film crew, they don't hire random people just because they're friends of friends”

“Oh well, I'm not saying he wants you to be... I don't know... tell me the name of any important high profile position”

“Production manager”

“Right. I'm not saying he wants you for that but maybe for simpler tasks, I don't know, like making coffee, cleaning the set, delivering messages, stuff like that”

“That would be a runner. Even to be a slave you must at least have a BA”

“A BA in caffeine studies?”

“Haha yeah, that can be useful”

Crowe gets out of a trailer parked on the other side of the road, I didn’t even notice he got in there in the first place, and he's carrying a big green ring binder. He starts looking through it as soon as he sits back down between us, flipping through squared handwritten pages, similar to the photocopied ones he had before.

“Where the hell... oh here it is!” the director slaps on the newly found page with his open hand, opens and closes the rings and takes a single page, handing it to Angie. He actually puts it on her knees because she's almost scared to touch it, as if it was some mysterious sacred object.

“What's that?” I crane my neck to see what's written on it.

“The script of a scene we're filming in a couple of weeks”

“INT. SHOP - DAY. Debbie calmly enters the shop, she's got her portfolio in her hands and walks up toward the young woman behind the counter...” Angie starts reading aloud, then her voice gets lower and lower as she goes on, until she focuses on silently reading to herself. Aw come on, I can't see shit from here!

“Debbie is one of the main characters, she's a career woman looking for Mr Right. Since she can't find him with traditional methods, she turns to a dating agency” Cameron explains the backstory, whereas Angie keeps reading, silently chuckling here and there.

“From Angie's snickering I can assume the scene is not as sad as it seems”

“Haha no, not at all, it's a pretty surreal situation, I’d say tragicomic. All the people who sign up have to make a video in which they introduce themselves and explain what they’re looking for in an ideal partner. So Debbie gets the help of these guys, who create something pretty absurd”

“And you want Angie to film the absurd video tape? Right?” I stand up as I yell my guess and Angie does the same making the script page fall down.

“ARE YOU INSANE?”

“Oh no, hehe, that’s not the plan I had in mind for you” Crowe retrieves the page from the lowest step unperturbed and gestures for us both to sit back down.

“Of course Cam, that goes without saying!” Angie shakes her head.

“My plan is a small role for you: you’ll be the young woman behind the counter”

“WHAT THE HELL?” Angie is about to rest her butt back on the stairs but as Cameron speaks she abruptly springs up as she got her asscheeks burnt on a hot step.

“You’d be perfect!”

“But I... err... Cameron, thank you so much, I’m flattered you thought about me but I don’t think I-”

“Alternative, cool and sarcastic, it’s you!”

“What??? I’m not like… and by the way… I don’t know how to act”

“You don’t have to act, just be yourself ”

“I don’t know how to be myself ”

“Hahahaha Angie, cut the crap and say yes! Are you crazy, that’s a great opportunity!” I scold her as I stretch out my arm behind Cam and shake her by her shoulder.

“I know acting is not your thing but working in a movie production is always a good experience, especially when you write it on your CV”

“That’s some fuckin’ experience, come on, you can’t say no!” I remark and I feel a lot like Meg right now, because I can feel it in my bones that this crazy girl is gonna keep saying no with all her being. And she’ll regret it. So the only thing I can do is shut her up.

“Anyway you don’t have to tell me right now but I need to know it in a week. I have another option for this role”

“Fine, if I were you, I’d go straight with the other option”

“Don’t listen to her, Cameron! She’ll think about it and she’ll let you know” I flash her a nasty look.

“And she’s got so many lines! Brian only says Twenty. Can I be Brian? That’d make more sense, since he’ll be the director of the video tape”

“Hehe yeah, that’d make sense and you’d definitely pull it off. But I already have a person to play Brian and it’s an indisputable option, I’m sorry”

“It’s just my luck, right?”Angie mumbles, right after a guy has passed next to us shouting that the break is over and the crew has to go back to work.

“Well, Tim’s working not far from here, he’s gonna leave his set specifically to make an appearance in the movie for me. That’s why I know exactly when we’re filming that scene” Cam stands up and I do the same, then following him up the stairs.

“Tim?” I ask.

“My friend Tim Burton, he promised me a cameo as a personal favor to a friend. Do you know him?”

“Is he an actor? Forgive my ignorance”

“No problem! No, he’s a director. Have you seen Beetlejuice? Edward Scissorhands?”

“Fuck yeah!”

“He also directed the latest Batman”

“He’s famous! Did you hear that Angie? You’ll meet a famous Hollywood director!” I move my head back and forth to visually get past Cameron and directly address my future movie star friend "And you’ll act with him!” but I can’t frame her “Angie?”

Cameron, lost in his thoughts until now, turns left and then right towards me, then backwards.

“She’s not here. Where is she?”

“Angie!” I turn around and call for my stupid friend, who thought it was a good idea to just get away at the best moment. Well, that’s so much better, at least she can’t say no “Well, I’ll find her and convince her, don’t worry”

“I don’t want her to think she can’t say no but I believe it’d be nice to have her in the movie. This film is kind of my way to say thank you to this city that welcomed me and took me in immediately. I like the idea of having the people I met and got to know in the movie. And I really think the role is perfect for her”

“We’ll let you know in time. By now I’d just like to know where the hell she is”

“Who are you looking for?” from out of nowhere here is Cornell, on top of the stairs.

“My colleague, who’s also your neighbor. She was here like two minutes ago then she literally disappeared in a blink”

“Angie? Hahaha! As far as I know her, she most likely fell down the stairs, did you check?” Chris snickers as he runs down the stairs. God he loves that story so much! “Uh, donuts!” I hear him cheer one second later..

“Come on Chris, hurry up, we gotta go back shooting” Cameron yells at him.

“Hey hi,” I almost don’t notice Matt Dillon joining us on top of the stairs “your cook friend is fast”

“Hi! Have you seen her?” I greet him, acting nonchalant, as I stick one hand in my bag, searching for my pen and notepad.

“Yeah, she said she’s waiting for you in the car,” he answers and then turns to the director “and that she had to go because she really had to pee and asked me to tell you bye”

“Hehe ok, thank you”

“And I guess she had to pee really bad, ‘cause she bumped into me and almost knocked me off”

“Nuh, she does that to everyone, that’s her signature move, don’t feel special!” Chris joins us again after his dose of sugar.

“How much do you love that story, Chris?” Cam shakes his head then calls for the make up artist we met earlier, so she can adjust Cornell’s face sprayed with sugar and chocolate.

“What story?” Dillon asks and who am I not to satisfy his curiosity?

“Didn’t he tell you? That’s weird but don’t worry, I can fix this right now!”

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

“What do you mean it’s not serious?” Angie walks nervously back and forth, I’m here, in peace, just leaning on my car right outside her place.

“I mean it’s not, kitty” I’m so calm I almost feel guilty.

“Kitty, my ass, I told Matt Dillon I was pissing myself, does it look normal to you? He must think I’m crazy” she throws her cigarette, crashes it under her boot and lights up another one straight away.

“Why? Actors don’t pee?” I’m still smoking the first one.

“They do but that’s not the point!”

“I don’t think this thing shocked him”

“No, sure, he probably only thought I’m a psycho”

“Come on, at our next guitar lesson I’ll explain to him that my girlfriend is not incontinent and she’s just shy”

“Guitar lesson?” I finally manage to make her stop for a second because I’m almost getting sick from her continuous pacing back and forth.

“Yeah, he needs basic notions to be vaguely credible on set. He asked me for help, no idea why. But I couldn’t say no. After all I’ve got nothing to do lately” yeah, I’m just recording an album, shooting a movie, still working some shifts at the mini market. To be able to see Angie tonight I had to leave the studio and go and pick her up from work at the diner and drive her home. The funny thing is, when we were top secret we had all the time in the world, now that everybody knows we struggle to find scraps of time to spend together.

“Well, maybe you made a good impression. Probably he ignores that you know me”

“He knows”

“He ignores how much you know me” now that she’s calm I manage to take her hand and pull her in a hug.

“Do you want to tell him that too? I thought you were more private”

“Haha fuck you, Ed” she pulls away but I can steal a kiss.

“Uhmm you’re evil though, you know?”

“For saying fuck you? Since when are you so sensitive?” she comes back to me with a smirk and gently puts her arms around my neck .

“No, it’s not that. Do you think it’s fair, calling me by my intimate nickname right now that we can’t do anything?”

“You are such an asshole!” she tries to push herself away from me but I block her. So she grabs my cigarette from my lips and throws it away to playfully spite me.

“By the way, why can’t we do anything? Why can’t we have this smoke up in your apartment, maybe matched with a nice cup of coffee?” I ask her, stealing her cigarette from her fingers and taking a hit.

“Because I have to wake up extremely early tomorrow. And you too”

“Fine. So why are we still here? Let’s go up to your place, cigarette, coffee, then sleep. What’s the problem?

“The problem is, we’d be doing anything but sleep and you know it” good girl, of course I know, I know that well, that’s exactly why I suggested it.

“I still can’t see the problem”

“Haha the problem is you might be high-performing and productive even without sleeping but I’m not”

“I’m not gonna keep you up all night” I wish I could, I’d say.

"Mm… I’m not so sure about it" she retrieves the cigarette hanging from my lips. And as she slowly inhales she gives me a look that… oh for fuck’s sake.

"Angie… you shouldn’t be doing that though"

"Doing what?" she exhales sideways not to blow smoke straight into my eyes.

"You’re not helping here"

"Why? What did I do?"

"We’re not supposed to do anything but you keep touching me, talking to me, looking at me that way…"

"Haha you’re such an ass!" she pulls away and starts searching for something in her purse.

"That wasn’t a joke" maybe Angie is finally starting to come to terms with the fact I like her (Jesus) but she doesn’t have the foggiest idea of how she can make a man feel with a glance, a hug or simply the sound of her voice.

"Ok ok, I’ll keep my distance and talk about something else. What about the recordings of the album? How's it going?" she takes a Kleenex and blows her nose, giving me even more space.

"Good. I think the techs want to kill us. It didn’t take them too long to find out"

"Hahaha why? What did you do?"

"Nothing in particular, they only found out they’re working with fucking perfectionists"

"Oh, you mean they got to know Stone?"

"Haha it’s all of us really, not just Stone. The last three nights, I spent them locked alone in the studio, rehearsing, re-rehearsing, re-writing, and so on…”

"Alone?"

"I was stuck on a couple of tracks, it looked like I couldn’t do them the way I wanted, we wanted. So I had the sound engineer explain to me how to record myself remotely and told him ‘Ok, now just lock me in and you’ll see tomorrow I’ll pull it off’”

"And you did?”

"Sure. Sometimes working your ass off it’s the only way" I did? I think so, I mean, I did with those two songs. I’ve got the rest of the album left to work on. And the rest of me. I mean, I’ve been loosening up a lot at live shows, I’m finding my new identity not only in this band, but also in this scene, in this city. On record though, we gotta be us, we gotta be Pearl Jam, with a finished identity, and I must be finished too. I need to be up to what we created as a band and of course I am the weak link here. Not because I lack skills or talent but because I’m the new guy in a band that already had well defined dynamics. I’m always torn between adapting to them and express what I am. The guys, they’re always reassuring me but… am I stupid if after almost six months I still don’t feel 100% part of the band?

"Not tonight though, right?"

"No, tonight I’ll rest. And I also wanted to see you so bad"

"Hehe did you miss me?"

"You bet"

"But we talk every day!" Angie throws away the second cigarette and puts her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket..

"Talking on the phone is not the same as seeing each other in the flesh. And I was exhausted today at lunch, I think we didn’t talk for more than a couple of minutes. By the way, sorry if I ended the call so abruptly, as soon as I hung up I sort of collapsed on the sofa at the studio and napped for an hour before getting back to work"

"I know, Eddie, don’t worry" she comes closer, almost timidly, and pats me on the shoulder.

"Aren’t you mad?"

"Haha of course not! You’re working, you’re not wasting time"

"And don’t you miss me a little?" I take her hand and kiss her palm and hold it against my cheek.

"Of course I miss you. But this is your job, this is you. If I get paranoid now that we haven’t seen each other for a week, what will I do once you’re off on tour and out of town for months?"

"Are you sure it’s not a problem for you?" from the serenity she’s conveying right now, it looks like she’s super sure. More sure than me. I mean, it’s not like I didn’t think about it before, I’ve been thinking about it since forever, at least since I decided that one day my passion would become my job. But I never talked to Angie about it.

"I’m more than sure. I’ll never be the type of annoying girlfriend, stressing you out because you don’t call every day or asking you to choose between her and the music. That just won’t happen" she takes my face in both her hands and shakes me as to make me say No, together with her.

"Ok. Can I call you every day though?"

"Hahaha you can call me whenever you want" she kisses me and pulls away once more.

“Anyway, it’s not gonna happen immediately, I mean, if everything goes how it’s supposed to go, the record’s gonna be released this summer, end of summer. We’re gonna play some shows here and there but no serious touring before autumn. Until then, we don’t even have to consider the problem basically" I’m saying this to myself rather than Angie, who seems totally fine about the whole thing.

"There is no problem for me, Eddie, really, don’t worry"

"I’m not worried for you but for me. How can I be apart from my kitty?"

"Hahaha you’re so stupid!" Angie shakes her head and grabs her keys from her purse, a clear sign that she’s about to leave.

"Great, I open my heart to you and you laugh at me!"

"No my dear, you make fun of me and I give you what you deserve!"

"I’m not making fun of you, that’s the truth! Do you really think I won’t miss you like crazy?"

"You won’t get crazier than now"

"No, but it’s gonna be hard. Uhm, in all senses"

"Hahahahaha and then you say you’re not making fun of me?!”she tries to shove me but I don’t move an inch.

"I’m extremely serious actually. How can I not make love to you for a month?"

“Do like the others do. Groupies exist for a reason, don’t they?"

"Groupies???" how can she come out with such things out of the blue?

"Hahaha"

"I don’t do groupies!"

"Well, not yet"

"Not now or any other time, please!"

"Don’t you like the idea?"

"No! I think it’s disgusting and humiliating for women, we’re not Mötley fuckin’ Crue!"

"But what if it’s just a girl who feels free and confident in her sexuality and wants to make her experiences?"

"She can make all the experiences she wants, just not with me"

"Haha you’re really… adamant about this"

"I am"

"No sex with fans then?"

"No. At worst I can go on a date with Rose"

"Rose?"

"Rosie…"

"And who is she?" and for a moment I think I made it, I believe I managed not only to catch her off guard with another joke but also to get that 1% of well hidden jealousy out of her. But I didn’t.

"You know, my old friend… Rosie… Palms" I barely end the sentence and mimic the concept and Angie’s already slapping me repeatedly on the back of my neck.

"EDDIE!"

"Hahaha why are you so violent?"

"Because you’re gross!"

"Excuse me, kitty. Ow! Groupies are ok and wanks are not? Can you… OUCH… explain!"

"I’m not hitting you for that but for the extremely low level of the joke"

"And we always get to the same point: you think I’m just kidding but I’m super serious” indeed I’m seriously trying to pick on you so you’ll give up and let me into your apartment with you. But it’s not working.

"Sure"

"Anyway, everybody goes on dates with Rosie, you too I bet…"

"Have you seen her this week too?" you’re always so good at swaying away from questions, huh?

"Yes, I have"

"Eddie!" one more fake punch is thrown at me.

"Hehe Eddie what? You asked me!"

"Now I see what you do in the studio all night by yourself, and you call it work!”

"Nuh, I prefer the comfort of a house and a bed. You’re the one fixated on weird locations, kitty" I try to score another point but it comes to nothing.

"Well, talking about bed, it’s getting pretty late, time to call it a night for me"

"Ok" I sigh, defeated.

"Haha don’t make that face"

"What face?"

"The sad puppy face of someone who’s not getting any tonight"

"Huh you mean this one?" I fold my arms, open my eyes wide and pull out a protocol pout, thrusting my lower lip out as much as I can.

"Exactly, haha, stop it" she tries to physically undo my pouty face scrunching it with her hands but I resist "Come on!"

At this point I grab her when she least expects it and hold her tight.

"You know I’m just messing with you, right?" I whisper into her ear.

"Sure I know"

"I just wanted to see you ‘cause I missed you, I don’t care about sex"

"I know"

"I mean, I do care, it’s great, but it’s not everything"

"It’s a bonus"

"Yeah, but it’s not like if you’re not giving me the bonus tonight, then I’ll be mad at you or something like that, ok?"

"Message received, don’t think about it"

"Great" I kiss behind her ear, then on her cheek, then on her lips.

"We’ll make up for that soon, I promise"

"No worries"

"I’m not worried. There’s always Rosie anyway” she shrugs and gives me that fucking shit-eating grin of hers. If we didn’t have to behave, I’d have already jumped on her.

"You’re mean, you’re so mean” I push her away but I immediately regret it.

"Good night, Eddie"

"What do you mean good night? I’ll walk you upstairs"

"No way! Nighty night" she gives me a last kiss and walks up to the glass door.

"Really? D’you still think I’d sneak into your apartment? You don’t trust me, do you?"

"No, I don’t trust. Myself. At all. I’d 99% let you in"

"Huh! For real?"

"Gotta go now"

"Am I so irresistible?"

“GOOD NIGHT!”

"Damn woman! Can’t you just answer?"

"SEE YA!"

"Umph, ok, good night!" but we’re not done yet, you know?

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

I’m breaking a record tonight: half past ten and I’m already in my pjs. Well, actually in my boxers and t-shirt but what I mean is that I’m ready for bed. At half past ten. Never happened before, not even as a kid. I can’t remember. Have I ever been a kid? I think so. I look at my guitar leaned against the wall and I recall one summer night so many years ago. At our old house it was me, my mom and the guy she was dating at the time. She was playing her old Wurlitzer organ, he was accompanying with his guitar. They were jamming although at that time I had no idea what it meant. I can’t remember if there was anybody else, maybe my uncle? But I remember that at some point, maybe because I wasn’t feeling enough at the center of attention at that moment, I ran to my room and took a tennis racket. Then I got back to the living room and started playing air guitar like a fool while they were playing. At the end of a song, the guy asked my mom if I could play. She said no and then he got me over and for the first time in my life I held a guitar in my hands. He taught me some chords and apparently I picked them up easily. It’s always because of him that later on I got my own first guitar. I should be grateful to him, if only I remembered his fuckin’ name…

"Hey Jer, are you alone in there? Can I?" Layne bursts into the room without thinking.

"Yeah. But even if you couldn’t, you got in all the same" he knows I’m alone, I’m always alone, I think he keeps asking only not to humiliate my ego rather than because he really wants to know.

"So, what are you doing tonight?"

"I stink. Is it a good answer?"

"Demri and I are going out for drinks, do you wanna come with us?" I don’t know what should surprise me more about this. The fact he’s going out with Demri after there was some tension lately? Because he perfectly ignores my joke? Because he feels so sorry for me that he wants to take me with him and his girl.

"To do what? Third wheeling”

"Fuck you, Jerry, we’re going to Frontier Room for drinks, it’s not a romantic date, you can join us with no worries"

"Yeah, ok, no, I can’t, you know, I was going to sleep"

"To sleep?"

"Yes, see?" I crush the joint in the ashtray on the nightstand, lift my ass from the bed and sneak under the covers.

"So early?"

"Yeh, I wanna be prepared before we leave, you know, starting to get used to the different time zone" we’re going to Europe in a few days, we’ll be touring with Megadeth, and honestly I can’t wait. It’ll be great, regardless of the fact that 99% of the people will be there for them and won’t give a fuck about ut. I don’t care, winning over that 1% is enough for me. I just wanna play and make some noise around. And escape from Seattle and from everything for a while. Right now I really need this.

"Uhm, in Europe it’s like six or seven in the morning, Jerry" since when is Layne a… scientist of … well, time zones expert?

"Exactly. I’m saving some precious sleep time now, considering I’ll lose a lot of sleep in the near future. I always have to explain everything to you!"

"Come on, don’t be antisocial! And Dem wants to say bye to you before you leave" Demri just wants to analyze me, that’s another story. Or she just wants me to meet some friend of hers, as she already tried to- WAIT A MINUTE.

"And who’s gonna be there apart from us three?"

"I don’t know, nobody else, I think"

"You think"

"I don’t know, maybe we’ll meet someone there, or it’s just the three of us"

"Meeting someone there… like who?"

"I don’t know, just saying! It’s easy to find people you know down there. They got $1,50 highballs, it’s the favorite haunt for alcoholics and broke-ass musicians, which are the two main categories our friends belong to" I find no fault in your reasoning, brother, unfortunately you’re a terrible liar.

"So if I go there, we wouldn’t happen to meet some female friend of Demri, right?"

"Well I don’t know, it can be, I mean, who’s not friends with Demri?"

"Layne, please"

"Fuck, she knows everyone"

"Tell me you didn’t set up a double date for me"

"Hahahaha what?? No!"

"Because I’ll get very angry if that’s the case"

"We set up no shit, she’s just called and asked me if I wanted to go to a bar for drinks and to ask you as well, that’s all"

"And doesn’t it make you suspicious?"

“Why?"

"Can you assure me with absolute certainty that if I go with you to this bar, we won’t meet Demri and a friend of hers waiting there for us?"

"Well, not with complete certainty but-"

"Ok, good night hen" I turn off the light and I’m about to get properly into bed.

"God, you’ve become such a pain in the ass! I’m starting to relate to Mike and Sean" Layne steps back and turns the light back on from the switch by the door.

"Fine, why don’t you go to the bar with them?"

"You’re blowing the whole thing out of proportion! What does it cost you to have a couple of drinks and spend like one hour out with a girl???" he snorts and finally gives up.

"HA! SO THERE IS A GIRL, YOU ADMIT IT!" I sit back up on the bed and point the finger of blame at him.

"Ok, yesss, there’s a girl! You were right, are you happy now?"

"Yeah, people usually like being right, you know"

"You don’t have to get engaged, just have a chat. Dem is not stupid, she’s not introducing you to a potential girlfriend now that we’re about to leave for a month"

"Exactly, so why meet her tonight? We’ll discuss it once we’re back" I fluff my pillow, rest my head on it and turn the light off again.

"Come on, Jerry, get dressed and let’s go" he turns the lights on..

"I’m not coming" lights off.

"I already said we’d go, you’ll make me look bad. Come on!" lights on.

"You’re an asshole" I slap my face but I’d rather slap him right now.

"Think about that poor girl who’s waiting and only sees me coming over. What will she do? Third wheeling?"

"But you said that-" and like five minutes ago it was supposed to be a simple night out for drinks without any implications. I get up.

"Come on, up, on your feet! And the girl’s a Scorpio"

"So what? The fuck does it mean?"

"No idea but Dem said she’s perfect for you. Remember she got it right about you and Angie and said it would end fucking badly. I hoped she was wrong but she’s always right"

"Thank you, man, I hadn’t been thinking about her for like five minutes" I remark as I put my pants on.

"You’re welcome. Now get dressed, I’ll be waiting for you in the kitchen"

I can’t believe he trapped me so easily. Well, at least I can drown my sorrow in strong cheap alcohol.

"And what’s the chick’s name?" I ask him when he’s already out of the door..

"Heather! She works with her at the shop. She’s pretty, you’ll see"

He knows her then. Of course he does. And it wasn’t all set up, nooooo, not at all.

#grunge fanficion #grunge #pearl jam fanfiction #eddie vedder fanfiction #eddie vedder #chris cornell #jerry cantrell #layne staley #matt dillon #cameron crowe #singles the movie #pearl jam #alice in chains #soundgarden #chapters

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metall-francis · 2 months

Text

Interviews

MASTER OF PUPPETS 💀🎧🩸

#cliff burton #james hetfield #lars ulrich #kirk hammett #metallica #thrash metal #metallica fanfiction #metallica x reader #stranger things #metallica smut #eddie vedder

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multirockbands · 10 months

Note

CAN WE GET EDDIE VEDDER WITH A BREEDING KINK IF UR OK WITH THAT 🥹🥹

A/n: hello! Sorry if I got to this late I have been busy these day and I tried my best to answer this as soon as possible here you go:)

It Won’t hurt to Try •Eddie Vedder•

(Rewritten)

Pairing: Eddie Vedder x fem!reader

Warning: Smut, fingering, slight breed kink, unprotected sex!

Me and Eddie were on the couch watching tv when Eddie looked down at me I looked up at him smiling “what’s up Ed’s” he sighed turning off the tv “I- I don’t know how to say this y/n but I’ve been thinking for a while” I furrowed my eyebrows grabbing his hand “well what is it?” He looked at me before saying “I want to start a family with you y/n- I know! We just got married but I just can’t wait” he looked down I grabbed his chin gently making him face me without hesitation he kissed me putting his hand behind my neck pulling me closer we pulled away for air tucking a strand behind my ear “y/n I want to make love to you just love I want you so bad” I pecked his lips “I want you too Eddie I want everything with you” he looked into my eyes reassuringly “are you sure you want to start a family I don’t want to force you” I chuckled at him “I want nothing more but that” he picked me up to our bedroom placing me down on the bed gently kissing down my neck finding my sweet spot before sucking on it leaving a mark I threw my head back letting out a breathy moan tugging his hair slightly he groan sucking slightly harder he pulled away taking my shirt off I sat up taking off his shirt he smiled laying me back down “Tonight is all about you” I pecked his lips as he went down reaching behind my back to take my bra off I arched my back to help him get it off he looked at my chest for a while before taking a nipple into his mouth swirling his tongue around I arched my back closing my eyes enjoying the feeling “Eddie” I groaned I felt him smirk before he started kissing down my stomach until he got to my shorts and unbuttoned them gently taking them off tossing them aside on the floor using his had to gently spread my legs further he kissed my clothed core taking off my underwear tossing them with my shorts he licked my folds I gasped grabbing his hair arching my back “you taste so good fuck” he groaned going faster sucking on my clit I let out a loud moan biting my lip until I felt him slide a finger in pumping fast my breathing started to get faster thrusting my hips against him feeling him add in another finger “agh- Ed don’t stop please” I said as I felt a knot form in my stomach he sped up his movements “cum for me baby” I arched my back feeling my eyes roll back in pleasure and feeling the knot untie Eddie got up licking his fingers before getting up to take off his remaining clothing his erection free against his stomach he got back on top of me kissing my lips slipping his tongue in my mouth not missing a spot unexplored “are you sure you’re ready” he asked looking in my eyes with nothing filled with love and reassurance i nodded kissing his cheek “Im ready Ed’s” he smiled aligning himself with my entrance sliding in slowly screwing his eyes shut his mouth hanging open I moaned softly pulling him closer digging his face in the crook of my neck going at a slow pace “Eddie go faster please” he obliged going faster “fuck you feel so good, you take me so well” I wrapped my legs around his waist thrusting my hips against his feeling him speed up his movements his hand reached between us and started rubbing my clit in fast circular motion “Ed’s don’t stop please!” I practically begged he leaned his forehead against mine “Fuck who do you belong to?” “You Eddie” I sighed he thrusted deeper hitting my g-spot “Louder” he groaned going faster “You Eddie!” I screamed feeling myself getting close “Fuck Ed’s I’m gonna cum!” After that he starting rubbing faster and speeding up his pace “go ahead baby, cum for me” he groaned screwing his eyes shut breathing into my neck I released all around him practically screaming his name, it wasn’t long until I felt his seed in me collapsing next to me catching our breaths, he pulled himself closer to me stroking my hair and kissing my head “Do you think it worked?” He asked I looked up at him smiling brightly “I think so” he looked down pulling the covers more over us “I love you so much y/n” he said pulling my head on his chest “I love you too eddie”.

A/n: hi! I’m so sorry I haven’t been posting for a while I’m so sorry that is the request Didn’t match the story but i tried haha but this one I’d have to say is my favorite yet haha! Have a great day or night everyone!

#eddie vedder #eddie vedder smut #pearl jam #90s grunge #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #grunge #reader insert #requests #rock #x reader #fluff #hard rock

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aishnico · 8 months

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#𝙀𝘿𝘿𝙄𝙀 𝙑𝙀𝘿𝘿𝙀𝙍: 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭

» summary: one day, you told your daughter how you got that green seashell inside your locket

» word count: 2.2k

» warnings: major fluff to angst (I SWEAR YOU WON’T REGRET READING PT 2)

» inspired by sarah jio’s always novel.

» part 2

it was a sunny afternoon. you were drinking your ginger tea and watching your daughter drawing a big, blue castle which she was inspired by a cartoon she watched this morning. you were feeling peaceful. waiting for your husband to come back from the bazaar.

"ta-daa!" she cheered at you while showing you her picture. you smiled and praised her for her work. then took it into your hands. she added sun, sea, and seashells inside the sea. they were in different colours. when you saw a green one, you couldn't help but caress your locket.

"do you wanna know what's inside there?"

she nodded quickly and you took off it from your neck and put it on the table, then opened the locket. she couldn't help but loudly gasp when she saw the green seashell inside of it.

"wow! that looks really beautiful and unique, mommy, where did you find it?!"

you couldn't help but smirk when she asked you this. "i didn't, someone else found and gifted it to me."

"then you must be really important to them, i mean look at that, not everyone gifts something like that!"

you smiled at her, "yeah, guess who did?"

she thought a couple of seconds and gasped again suddenly. "daddy?!" you smiled and nodded. "do you wanna know the story behind it?" she nodded again quickly. then you start to look from the window and you saw a beach where things have started.

— 1984

it was a sunny afternoon in chicago. there were a couple of weeks before the start of your college, in seattle. so before moving there, you decided to spend your last weeks with your family. and here you were, collecting seashells with your little brother on the beach. you got tired after kneeling up and down every few seconds under the sun. you then frowned "why are you collecting these so much, what are you gonna do with them anyway?"

"i'm gonna make a huge castle from them with clay!" he didn't mind your indifference. you rolled your eyes and looked at the rough and light blue coloured sea. there were a lot of people on the beach, but not a big amount of them were swimming. some people were surfing too. you were fascinated by them, especially by a man who was short and brunette with blue eyes.

"look!" he suddenly shouted at you. "it has a hole in it, i can make it into a necklace! can you put it in a safe place, please?" you sighed and nodded to his request and after taking it from him, you went to your sunbed. you put the seashell inside the bag and you certainly didn't expect to see that man you were fascinated by.

"hello!" he said nervously. you smiled at him too. "hi."

"i am, uh... saw how you were collecting seashells and when i saw it, i thought you may like it." he approached you and opened his palm, showing what was inside. you loudly gasped when you saw it. it was a green seashell.

"oh my god i... i don't know what to say... it looks so unreal, are you sure you want to gift me this?" he nodded and you slowly took it from him. you couldn't help but ask "why are you giving this to a stranger?"

"i, i don't wanna sound cheesy but, a beautiful seashell for a beautiful lady, I guess..." you chuckled at his nervousness and looked down. "well, thank you then." you looked at him again and sat down to sunbed. patting your next so he could sit next to you. he sat and you looked at his ocean eyes.

"i've never seen you here before until today. i saw how you were surfing. you do this for a long time, don't you?"

"i came here from san diego a few days ago. and yeah, i've been surfing since 12."

"then welcome! i hope you'll like it here. i'm [name] by the way." you cheered. he smiled at you. "and i'm eddie."

you were talking about your interests until your brother stood before you, put his hands around his waist and looked at you furiously. "are you done with flirting with your boyfriend? because we still have to fill at least 5 bottles!"

your and his cheeks got flushed. you coughed. "he's not my boyfriend." "whatever..." your brother put his full bottle of seashells inside the bag and gave you a bottle. "would you like to help us?" he asked to eddie. he then smiled at him and agreed on it.

you still continued talking about your interests and then about random things. you discovered that he has the same music taste you have. and he was more open to you now. at the time, you realized your brother was far ahead of you. maybe because you were busy talking.

after finishing filling the bottles, your brother thanked eddie sincerely and went swimming. you wanted to join him but you stopped when you saw eddie not moving.

"hey, did something happen?" you asked.

"uh, yes actually. i remembered i gotta go." he gave you an apologetic smile. "will I see you again?" he asked and you nodded. "then will i see you, tonight?" you chuckled and nodded again. after agreeing on which place and in which time you should meet he rushed. "bye, [name]!"

"bye, eddie!"

after you and your brother came back home, even though you were tired, you still helped your mother with cooking. at the table, he was talking about the sea and how beautiful seashells with little holes he found. and of course, he talked about eddie. about how nice and helpful he was. he was smirking at me and i just hit his leg slightly under the table.

it was almost eight, you wore a blue sundress with matching flat shoes. of course, your little brother wished you luck on your date.

you went to the bar where you two agreed to meet. you saw him and waved at him. he was wearing a 'the who' shirt with black shorts. you greeted each other and entered the bar. he was a gentleman to buy you a drink. you thanked him and then sat close to the stage. you didn't understand why, but he looked nervous. so you started a conversation about a random thing. the conversation led to where he was talking about the first time he tried surfing excitedly. you realized that you were smiling at him since he started to talk.

a couple of guys entered the stage and started to play light my fire by the doors. your mouth got open "i love this song!" he smiled at you. "would you like to dance to this song with me then?" you nodded and he got up and gave you his hand. you gave yours to him and he led you close to the stage.

you could feel everyone's gaze at you two. but you didn't care. not when you were feeling excited. you two took a step forward and bowed. you circled each other, your gaze remained locked. he placed his hand on your back, you placed yours on his shoulder and your free hands met. your feet in perfect sync together. as the song progressed, you felt more relaxed and gave him a heartwarming smile of yours. he blushed slightly.

when the song ended, he wanted to walk home with you. you agreed and led him the way. there was a comfortable silence between you. maybe because there were thoughts from this night inside your heads. after about twenty minutes, you were outside your house.

"thank you for walking with me." you said while smiling. he smiled too "it's nothing, just wanted you to be safe.”

you didn't say anything to each other for a couple of seconds. when you looked at your window, you saw your little brother waving at you. you rolled your eyes.

"well, thank you for the night, then. i had a good time. good night." you said to him and before you went the door, he called you.

"wait, [name]!" you turned to him. "i... i had a good time with you too. and, and i wanna repeat this. i want to spend time with you again."

you chuckled. "are you asking me out?" he nodded shyly. and you just kissed his flushed cheek. "i would love that." and after you gave him your phone number and wished good night to each other, you entered your house.

"i liked him from the moment he agreed to help us. he looks nice to be my brother-in-law." your brother smirked at you. but you weren't paying attention to him. you were carefully caressing your green seashell. and you decided to carry it everywhere. you put it inside your locket and wore it. wondering about your next date.

three weeks passed since you met with eddie. you would see each other three or four times a week. some days you would go to new places that he hasn't ever been there, going on late-night drives or chilling at the bar where your first date was.

there were days that you two would hang out with your brother. some days, you would take him to the theme park, bowling saloon, arcade bar, or eddie just trying to teach him how to surf. your heart would melt when you would see them together. he really liked eddie, also your parents.

but sadly, it was your final day in chicago. you had to go back to the rainy city. you wish you would go to college in chicago. you would be with your family, and with eddie.

he knew this was your last day. so you agreed on meeting at the beach where you two met. it was evening, and not many people were at the beach compared to the afternoon. you two sat down on the sand, watching waves lap up against the shore softly.

"i wish i could meet you earlier." you said while smiling sadly.

"yeah, i wish i dared to meet you earlier. i've been seeing you on the beach with your brother before we met."

"but, this is not the end of the world, right? i'm planning to come here in the summer. we can see each other."

he nodded but you felt something hidden in his facial expression. "eddie, if there's something on your mind, you can just tell me." he gulped and turned his head to you. "what i am to you, [name]? just your summer love for a few weeks?"

your eyes widen at his question. you didn't know what to say. no, you had actually. but you didn't know how to put them in words.

"the first time i saw you, you were looking fascinated. i couldn't help but stare at you at that moment. i thought i just liked your appearance, but no. i still wonder how i managed to ask you out. the more time i've spent with you, the more i've fallen in love with you. i love you, [name]." he said while looking at you sincerely. he said these three words for the first time.

you smiled, grabbed his hands and held them. "i, i love you too, eddie. you're not just a summer love to me. trust me, you're more than that. i believe we still can communicate. i don't wanna lose connection with you. you will be always in here." you pointed with your index finger to your locket. he chuckled and his cheeks flushed.

the sun was almost setting. you knew you gotta go. you looked at him with apology.

"before you go, i wanna do something. i wanted to do this after our first day." he got close to your face, your noses touching. "can i?" he asked and you nodded happily. he then connected your lips with a passion. it started slow at first but got heated after. he was kissing you like no tomorrow and you were trying to catch up with him. you saw his eyes got watered and you wiped away them. after seconds, he pulled away and connected your foreheads.

"i love you. don't ever forget that." you whispered.

"i love you too, and i won't forget that."

you squeezed his hands for the last time and started to walk home, crying silently.

your family moved to michigan due to your father's work after your start at college. it was a surprise for you. but you could do nothing about it. and eddie never called you again. you got frustrated and hurt because of it. wasn't he telling you that he was in love with you? maybe he thought it wouldn't work or the thing between us should just stay as a summer love.

then you wanted to hit yourself. because you realized you never give him your number, you gave your house's. and when your family moved, they changed it. when the semester finished, you first went to chicago to look for him. but you couldn't find him. then you learnt that he moved to southern california. you cried, even though you spent a little bit of time with him, you were still madly in love with him. and you never stopped loving him.

#pearl jam #pearl jam x reader #eddie vedder #eddie vedder x reader #pearl jam fanfiction #pearl jam fluff #pearl jam angst #eddie vedder fluff #eddie vedder angst #grunge #grunge x reader #stone gossard #jeff ament #mike mccready #chris cornell #matt cameron #soundgarden #mother love bone #90s

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valadon · 1 year

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round 2...

so i took a tumblr break, but i missed this unique little corner of the internet! i would love to reconnect with my grungey mutuals, i've been on here as yellowr0se and valadon before - i'm the author of shadows, butterflies and new fic(!!) flames plus the 90s-grunge-fanfic oneshots, as well as some original stuff. some fanfic can currently be found on ao3 <3

#grunge fanfiction #stone gossard #pearl jam #eddie vedder #chris cornell

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sisterthecloud · 8 months

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Just a little reminder of the existence of this lovely story of Eddie Vedder.

Freshly updated.

#pearl jam #ed vedder #pearljam #fanfiction #eddie vedder #fanfic #stone gossard

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golden-gypsy · 6 months

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On Archive of Our Own

On Wattpad

Writings and Such:

Past the Horizon - ao3 / Wattpad

Blue - Here / ao3 / Wattpad

#pearl jam fanfiction #eddie vedder fanfiction #fanfiction #pearl jam fanfic #grunge fanfiction #past the horizon #grunge fanfic #band fic #eddie vedder fanfic

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fatcoochienergy · 1 year

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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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mancanosempreventicentesimi · 8 months

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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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glorifiedgpjfic · 2 years

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Glorified G - Chapter 47

A/N Hey! It's been a while and for that, I am SO sorry, but I've given my head a wobble and I'm hoping to get back to posting semi-regularly until I've finished this fic, I really hope you enjoy the next chapters :) x

A/N 2.0 - trigger warning - Sexual assault / Rape - Also the offender in this chapter is a real offender, however he was active in the 00’s rather than 90’s so for the sake of the fic we’re gonna pretend it was the 90’s - thank you :)

Jo arrived at Washington State Department of Corrections about ten minutes before she was scheduled to arrive, she needed to be on time for this, plus arriving early gave her plenty of time to go through the process of handing over her gun and badge at the entrance. She felt nervous for the interview, but at the same time she knew she’d prepared as much as she possibly could, she’d spent hours studying the case files, she’d read the transcripts of previous interviews that detectives and police officers had had with Marc O’Leary, she knew everything down to his medical history. Marc O’Leary had been convicted of six rapes over a three year period, the first victim an 18 year old girl hadn’t been believed by police at the time and was even charged with false report of rape, the police had effectively bullied her into recanting her statement- Joanne had been outraged by this, it made total sense to her why people wouldn’t come forward about such crimes when law enforcement couldn’t be trusted to believe victims. One thing Jo had always wanted to change was how sexual assault survivors were treated by both law enforcement but also the judiciary, people should be able to report crimes safely without fear of ridicule or not being believed.

Marc was in the interview room before Jo, she had opted to let him sit for a few minutes before she’d introduce herself. She wanted a little bit of extra time to review the case and her knowledge of it. She adjusted her ponytail and blazer before opening the door and stepping inside, as soon as she entered the room she felt Marc’s animalistic gaze on her, she pushed it aside as she sat down opposite him,

“Hello Mr O’Leary, I’m agent Taylor- I was hoping we could have a little chat.” Joanne said calmly, the man across from her gave an unnerving grin, she observed the way he sat in his chair - looking her up and down like she were his prey, she couldn’t help but be thankful that he was shackled to the metal table he licked his lips before responding to her,

“Please call me Marc, what do you want to talk about Miss Taylor?” Joanne had to stop herself from rolling her eyes,

“Okay Marc, and it’s agent Taylor- I just wanted to talk about what you did to get in here.”

The interview with Marc hadn’t been particularly successful, he hadn’t shared anything with Joanne other than his opinions about her body which made her skin crawl, however as always she had managed to maintain her poker face and redirected the conversation back to business. As soon as the interview had concluded and O’Leary had been taken back to his cell, she remained in the room for a few minutes quickly jotting down her notes that she had not been able to make during the interview, she had had hated how he looked at her, but she knew that she’d be able to use his misogyny to her advantage in the future interviews. She made notes about the type of rapist he presented as based on how he had spoken to her, and from the evidence she had seen in the case files; he was an anger rapist- the aim of this type of offender is to debase and humiliate their victims, knowing what the women he attacked went through made Joanne feel genuinely sick to her stomach- her mind wandered back to the night when Matthew had followed her back from the bar, it reminded her how lucky she was to get away from him that night.

On her drive home from the prison Jo felt although she could cry, she felt completely drained from the interview and dreaded going back in a few days time; she considered how much it meant to Eddie that she was in a safer work environment and then considered how it made her feel stepping away from the thing she truly loved, her stomach churned as it dawned on her that she was annoyed with Eddie.

Eddie and the guys were on a total high, they were planning out their next tour and couldn’t wait to be back on the road travelling and performing for their fans. Their second album ‘Five Against One’ was almost finished and they had some songs that they felt really confident about, there was one that Eddie was still trying to finish- ‘Glorified G’ it wasn’t quite ready to be recorded, but once that was done then they’d be ready to record and launch their second album. Eddie had left Potatohead in a great mood, he couldn’t wait to tell Joanne about the tour plans; he was hoping that she’d be able to attend some of the more local gigs, he’d even hoped she’d be able to make some the east coast shows if she could get assigned to Quantico for a few weeks, he knew how she was working with John Douglas and he seemed to recall Jo mentioning him inviting her to Quantico the last time they’d worked together, of course, he knew he was getting ahead of himself but, he had every right to be excited. It would be perfect, the woman he loves watching him do the thing he loves, with the band he loves.

Eddie arrived home before Jo and decided to put a pot of coffee on and start making some food for them, he wanted to make tonight relaxing for Jo as he knew how nervous she had been about this new job and he really appreciated that she had taken his concerns on board. He watched as her headlights lit up the driveway, he poured a mug of coffee and had it in his hand in time for her walking through the door she took the mug from him and offered a small smile,

“Something smells good,” She commented and Eddie gestured to the oven,

“I’ve attempted to make Chris’s infamous homemade chow mein, I’m just hoping we don’t get food poisoning.” Eddie said with a small chuckle, the same chuckle that would normally make her melt, and despite Eddie greeting her with coffee and food Jo couldn’t help but still feel irritated by him, she knew it wasn’t Eddie she was annoyed at but rather the fact she had to make such a big change to her job in order to keep him happy, she responded to him with a strained laugh- which of course, Eddie picked up on,

“Do I have time to have a quick shower before the food is ready?” Jo asked and Eddie nodded in response, she wanted to have a few minutes to herself to gather her thoughts and try to mask her current feelings. She knew that it wasn’t fair to be mad at Eddie. He was just looking out for her, but at the same time she’s always done the same job and she hadn’t died yet, so why does she suddenly need to change that? Especially when she was going to be put in more situations like today where she feels uncomfortable because of the people she’s interviewing. After about ten minutes she got out of the shower feeling somewhat calmer, she returned to Eddie in the kitchen who had started dishing up the food as soon as he heard the shower turn off, she sat opposite him and the two engaged in polite small talk as they ate, Eddie felt nervous to mention the tour when he could tell there was something bothering Jo,

“What’s up Eddie?” The thing that bugged Eddie was that Jo could always read him, he could never keep his feelings to himself, it bugged him but at the same time he loved that sometimes they didn’t need to speak because Jo could just tell how he was feeling from looking at him.

“Nothin, how was your day? Are you okay?” Jo raised an eyebrow at him to challenge him, “Okay sherlock, so we’re planning our next tour- and I was wondering if you could come to some of the shows,” Eddie decided to leave out the part about the east coast shows for now, he could tell her about that nearer the time, he sensed that now wasn’t the time to discuss dragging her across the country and just hoping it would fit in with her schedule.

“Oh Babe, that’s ace! Of course I’ll come to your shows! Jo beamed with pride and for a moment she forgot about how her day had been.

“How was your day?” Eddie asked as Jo took a sip of her coffee,

“Honestly, it was rough. I’m dreading going back, it kinda brought a lot of stuff up for me like the whole Matthew thing and I feel like until I’ve finished this work that’s something I’m going to have to try and ignore.” Eddie gave a sad smile before pausing for a moment,

“I’m sorry Jo, do you wanna talk about it?” Jo tried her best not to snap, but the words left her mouth before she could even think about them,

“It’s your fault I’m in this position-” her hand flew to her mouth, shocked at the bitterness that laced her words, “I’m sorry, that was unfair, I’m just tired- I’m gonna head to bed.” She scurried off to the bedroom regretting her words, knowing that Eddie would be awake all night thinking about what she had said.

The following morning Jo left Eddie a note apologising once again for her outburst, luckily she had a therapy session to look forward to. She hoped that venting there would help her to stop blaming Eddie for her slight career change.

Eddie hadn’t slept at all, he was exhausted. He kept thinking how could he have avoided this, there was nothing he could’ve done differently he couldn’t just let Jo carry on acting like she was invincible- he didn’t want to lose her just because she liked to play the hero, it wasn’t like this new job was much different to her old one, she was still dealing with the worst society had to offer, only now she was dealing with them in a controlled environment- he hoped that maybe she’d adjust to it and start to enjoy the work she was doing. His biggest fear now was that he’d lose her only she wouldn’t be dead, she’d resent him and leave his life- which for a moment he thought was worse.

#pearl jam fanfic #pearl jam fanfiction #grunge fanfiction #grunge fanfic #eddie vedder fanfiction #eddie vedder #mike mccready #jeff ament #dave abbruzzese #stone gossard #eddie vedder fanfic #pearl jam

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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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