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brideofedoras · 4 years

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Happy Birthday, John Kennex

In honor of Karl Urban’s birthday, I wrote a little birthday fic to go along with Soulbound. John Kennex’s birthday is June 7, 2007.

Disclaimer: I only own my OCs

Word count: 1900+

Rating: 18+

Warnings: brief mentions of anxiety, asthma and self harm

-1-

Emily smiled and waved to the nurses on duty as she walked by the nurses’ station. Sara was on duty, she noted, rolling her eyes when the woman winked at her. She clutched the little malachite dragon she carried a little tighter in her right hand before letting herself into John’s room.

Her heart stuttered in her chest when she saw the detective, still unconscious. Someone had shaved off his stubble earlier and had given his dark brown hair a trim.

She had to swallow a few times before she managed to find her voice. “I… I, uh… have it on good authority that today is your birthday,” she blushed when she realized her voice sounded a little on the breathy side. Oh, lord… At least I’m not wheezing. “The big Four-O,” she placed the dragon on the bedside table next to the photograph of John and his partner, Marty Pelham, and Marty’s wife Maria and son Marty Junior. “But don’t worry,” her breathy voice took on a teasing tone. “I won’t tell anyone your real age. Sandy and I will keep it a secret.”

She busied herself with her normal routine upon arriving for her daily visits. She straightened his blanket over his chest, smoothed her hands over his chest and arms to make sure the wrinkles were out, grounding herself to keep her anxiety at bay. She blushed when she felt his heartbeat kick a little harder when her palm brushed over his chest. “I’m beginning to think you really enjoy my visits even though I’m the most boring and awkward visitor you’ve got,” she teased. “Yeah, I know. I shouldn’t talk down on myself like I do but I am awkward and I’m sure what I talk about is boring.”

Finally, she squeezed his fingers and ran her fingers through his shorter hair. “I miss the scruff,” she admitted softly as she traced her fingertips along his smooth jaw. Her blush darkened when she realized she’d spoken out loud this time. “Oh, god, don’t mind me,” she giggled nervously. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud. I…” She drew in a deep breath and slowly released it. “You look very nice when you’re clean-shaven, but you also look pretty hot when you’re scruffy,” she confessed with a half-sigh, half-whisper. “I… I don’t know why I find it so easy to talk to you, to admit things that I know I’d never be able to say out loud if you were actually awake… much less be able to open up to anyone else... I… I probably would never be able to talk to you if you were conscious… I mean, I’m… I’m nobody. And you’re… You’re you. You probably wouldn’t even give me a second thought,” she turned away from the bed to walk over to the window. “I’m such a painfully shy and awkward person with anxiety and asthma, no one looks twice at me as it is,” she wrapped her arms around her stomach before she growled at herself. “I’m sorry, ignore me. I’m just… I know I’m hard on myself,” she admitted quietly. “It’s your birthday. I’m supposed to be happy and in a celebratory mood, but you already know how I feel about birthdays. But I am happy, in a way. I’m hanging out with the best-looking guy in the world, even if he doesn’t know I exist.” She returned to the bed and leaned down. “Happy birthday, John,” she whispered before kissing his cheek. “I brought you a present. I know I didn’t have to, but after I accidentally caught a glimpse of the tattoo on your arm I knew what I would get you for your birthday or Christmas. I like dragons, but I prefer the European ones to the Chinese ones. I found a Chinese dragon carved in malachite at a shop near campus and had to get it for you. It’s really pretty.” She moved away from the bed to sit down in the chair. “So… I’m thinking about applying for an internship through the Synthetic Dispatch Division. Dr. Lom is open to taking on an intern. I’m scared to death I won’t get the internship if I do apply, but I won’t know unless I try, right? I haven’t talked to Sandy about it, not yet. We’re meeting for drinks later at McQuade’s.”

She grew quiet as she watched his chest rise and fall with each breath he took. “Maybe someday we could go out for a drink after you wake up.” When she realized what she’d said, she quickly backpedalled, stammering and blushing hard before she could string a coherent sentence together. “I… I really need to shut up, huh? Not go out like as in a date or something like that, I could only ever dream of going on a date with you.” She blushed harder and smacked her hands over her face. “Shit. God, Emily, you’re such a damned idiot!” She cussed at herself. “Drinks between friends.”

She scrubbed her hands over her face. “You’ve come to mean a lot to me in such a short period of time already,” she reached for his hand. “You let me ramble and babble when I get nervous or anxious and somehow I feel much calmer when I hold your hand. And I’ve rambled and babbled a lot already today.” She took a deep breath and grimaced when she wheezed. “It’s a beautiful day out today. Couldn’t ask for prettier skies. The sunrise this morning was gorgeous…”

-2-

Thunder rattled the windows of the hospital room. Must be storming. Dammit. Emily better not be out driving in this. I want her here but I don’t want her to get into a wreck either. Sam, I hope you and Lizzie are watching over your daughter, please don’t let anything happen to her. She has no idea how much she means to me.

Another rumble of thunder rattled the windows, drowning out the whoosh of the door sliding open. The scent of vanilla cupcakes reached him and he breathed an internal sigh of relief.

Emily was safe. She was there.

The door swooshed open again, followed by the scent of raspberries. Sara, his favorite nurse. She was nice, always talking to him when she was checking on him. Always making sure he had the softer blankets or more supportive pillow. “Here’s the towels you requested, Em.”

“Thanks, Sara, I don’t want Karen or Tim hollering at me for dripping all over the room,” Emily’s voice was filled with light-hearted amusement.

Sara laughed. “They won’t holler, Em. Karen will give you the look and chastise you before she hugs you, and Tim is such a good-natured soul. They’ll chalk it up to job security. Anything else you need?”

“Nah, thank you, I’ll holler if I do.”

The door swooshed open and shut again, leaving him alone with Emily. He listened to the gentle rustle of fabric, towel maybe, before the sound of a raincoat being shrugged off reached his ears.

“Hi, John,” her voice sounded a little regretful. “I wasn’t ignoring you, I promise. I’m dripping all over the place and don’t want the housekeeping staff to worry about my coat and boots dripping all over.” Her voice strained before he heard the slide of two zippers. “It’s nasty out today. The storm didn’t hit until I was halfway here.”

Should’ve stopped somewhere to wait it out, Sweetheart, I don’t want you risking your life just to spend time with me.

“I know, I could’ve pulled off to wait it out but it hasn’t let up at all and I didn’t want to sit in my car in a sketchy parking lot,” her hands brushed his chest as she straightened the blankets.

His heart thumped harder when he felt her palm settle over it. Good call. But I still don’t want you driving in a storm, Emily. I’m not worth you getting hurt.

“I couldn’t miss my favorite guy’s birthday today,” her breath puffed over his cheek before her plush lips pressed against the stubble.

Favorite guy, huh? Sweetheart… He wished he could turn his head, to feel her soft lips on his. He settled for feeling her smile curve on his cheek instead.

“Happy birthday, John. Whenever you wake up you’re going to have a lot of cards and a few gifts,” the chair scraped closer to the bed. Her hand curled around his. “Just because you’re in a coma doesn’t mean anyone who loves you can get away with ignoring birthdays and holidays. Sandy’s got a box she’s putting them in for you. I didn’t bring a gift with me today, it’s at Sandy’s. I wasn’t about to bring it with me.” Her breath hitched on a wheeze. “I finally worked up the courage to go through Daddy’s stuff and found a few guitars I never knew he had. Sandy told me you collect guitars, that you play a little, and I asked her if maybe I should give them to you. They’re vintage, from the 1970s and 80s. Or would they be considered antiques? I don’t know. They’re beautiful, though. One’s an acoustic and the others are electric. Daddy even had sheet music for some of the old classic rock songs. I sent those over with the guitars.”

Sweetheart, they’re your dad’s, you should keep them.

“I don’t have the room in my apartment for them, I don’t want for them to remain in their cases tucked away in a closet. They’re meant to be picked up and played and proudly displayed. I don’t know how to play, other than random strumming that sounds god awful. I never was musically-inclined growing up, I would’ve taken the amp apart to see how it works and if I could improve it,” she laughed softly. “Maybe that’s why Daddy had them in storage, to keep me from doing just that. I… I would like to learn how to at least play a few chords, though.”

I could teach you. Not that hard. I’ll get a guitar in your hands and sit behind you, wrap my arms around you to guide your hands. He groaned. Slow down, Kennex, he warned himself when he felt arousal stirring in his belly just from the image in his head. Dammit.

Her fingers laced through his. “I hope you will like them.”

I already do, Sweetheart…

-3-

The gentle press of soft, plush lips on his woke him up. John groaned, wrapping his arms around Emily. “Mornin’, Baby,” he murmured before deepening the kiss.

She braced her hands against his shoulder and shoved. “You’re ruining the moment!” She giggled when he pinned her beneath him and attacked her neck with voracious kisses. “John!”

He lifted his head. “You started it by kissing me awake, Baby.” He frowned when tears glistened in her baby blue eyes. “Emily?”

“I get to look into your eyes this time when I say it,” her voice cracked as a tear slipped down her temple into her dark hair. “Happy birthday, John.”

John cupped her cheek and brushed the tear away with his thumb. “Baby, don’t start cryin’ on me,” he chastised gently, shifting onto his back and tucking her to his side. “What are your plans today?”

“We’re not going to spend your birthday with you in bed and me in a chair holding your hand,” she retorted.

“How ‘bout we both spend the day in bed?”

She giggled. “John!”

“It’s my birthday, can’t I pick how we spend the day?” He quirked an eyebrow at her.

“What about your birthday cupcakes or breakfast or your present--”

He hauled her on top of him and silenced her protest with a kiss. “Later. Much… much later,” he growled between kisses.

#almost human #john kennex #john kennex x ofc #soulbound #soulmates #happy birthday #karl urban

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shewantedtobeasecretgirl · 6 years

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7. Bass is heavy a.k.a. useful finger techniques, Dee Dee Ramone’s yelling and helpful octopuses

„Damn, I forgot Sly and Ethel in the van!” she groans and slaps on her forehead.

“No problem, I bring them with the next round.” Scully offers and disappears in the hallway that leads to the backdoor. I have no idea who Sly and Ethel can be but I don’t want to know it either… Now that she’s been left alone she tries to push the carriage trolley with the amps to its place on the stage. With little success. But her fight with the gear twice as heavy as her reminds me of a scene.

“Old woman!” I call her.

“Man!” she corrects me still pressing against the load at full strength. Okay, she passed the test again but that’s not a big deal, Monty Python’s Holy Grail basically became a mainstream movie by now, anybody could quote a few scenes from it. Okay, not everyone, none of my former girlfriends was familiar with absurd humor and neither is Amber. I got her to watch it with me but I gave up the mission and turned off the video recorder when she asked for the third time how much time was left of it. It’s just not for her.

“Okay, Dennis, where’s my cow?” I inquire while I’m helping her win the battle; otherwise hours later, the amps would still stand in the middle of the stage and our crowd would enjoy her hopeless struggle instead of the show.

“Are you deaf? Or just concentration problems?” she asks harshly, avoiding my glance and trying to ignore my intervention but her rush moves uncover the surprise she might feel about it.

“Hey, it’s not easy to talk with you, do you know? I asked you about something, I even emphasized my lack of information using a different tone, in grammar text books you can find the encyclopedic explanation in chapter “Question”.” I draw a question mark with my index finger in the air. “The next communication panel is the so-called “answer” in which you satisfy my need for details…” I gesture the quotation marks too.

“I won’t satisfy you in any way, excuse me…” she cuts me off and even tosses me away a bit as she steps dynamically to the monitor board to plug the cables into it.

“I’m just trying to ask where’s my…” I don’t need to finish the sentence since Scully arrives back with Dave’s stage prop, holding my cow under his arm.

“And I was trying to refer to the fact that we take care of Ethel and Sly.” she nods at the two mascots.

“Ethel?” I blurt out frowning. This chick isn’t sane, she was serious about searching for a name for it… “Since when has she been called Ethel?”

“Actually her name has always been Ethel, you’ve just never asked her about it.” she fixes her glasses with a wiseacre face. “She was quite unhappy, did you know that? I caught her searching for numbers of slaughterhouses in the phonebook as she wanted to volunteer to be a steak ingredient, no wonder knowing you. But when I told her we were traveling to Texas soon she immediately changed her mind. Now she wants to be the spokesperson of the anti-rodeo movement. A little care makes wonders.”

Her fantasy is quite intense, I have to admit.

“So you’re obsessed with stuffed animals?” I ask leaning against my Marshall and watch her wiring the stage with quick moves.

“…asks the guy who keeps one on his amplifier…” she mumbles darting at me for a second and raising one eyebrow. “What are you doing here, anyway? Are you supervising me or what? As far as I know I’m an unbearable person who makes the others admire her and uses her family ties…”

Nice attempt but not enough to distract me.

“…and who told, ahem, yelled at me that I should get to know her better, that’s what I’m trying to do right now.” I continue the sentence. “So tell me, Judith, how many stuffed animals do you have exactly? I bet there are a few ones in your bedroom… my first estimation would be somewhere between five and ten.”

“Oh yeah, my bedroom. Damn, you’ve got me… First of all there’s that huge teddy sitting on my bed, how did you figure it out? Then there’s the bunny in the armchair, the cute seal on my desk and my stuffed pony and unicorn collection, I gave up counting them a few years ago. And I have to mention that everything in the room is very pink and very fluffy. Do I meet the profile you created about me?” she bats her eyelashes.

Clever, but not clever enough to drive me to the wall.

“Actually, when I asked you about stuffed animals I was talking about stuffed animals. Like, dead animals which are stuffed. I mean, I could totally imagine a few stuffed bats, snakes and rats hanged on your shelves full of mysterious ingredients for occult purposes. Candles arranged on the points of a huge pentagram, right next to the coffin-shaped bed…”

“You left out the voodoo dolls. I have a bunch of them, the latest one I prepared wears denim pants and a Luv Co shirt tucked into them…” she approaches threatening me with a jack plug and for one second I think she’s about to stick it into my eyeball but in the last moment she changes direction and plugs it into the matching slot of the amp. I acknowledge, she didn’t need much time to know her way around our gear… But come on, even a chimpanzee can be trained how to put different solids into the right holes, she’s on the level of an average lab monkey. “But how come I turned from a nun into a witch in one single day? You’re pretty much inconsistent at insulting, Gossard…”

That makes sense. I open my mouth to cite the witch hunt scene from the mentioned movie but Scully intervenes in our conversation.

“Guys, if you go on like this I’ll claim payrise from Eric…”

“For what? How do you mean it?” she turns in his direction with hands on hips.

“Conflict management bonus.” he shrugs casually. “Seriously, could you just stop for a moment? For just a few seconds, I feel like I was at a fucking dogfight.”

“It was him who started it!” she exclaims outraged pointing at me.

“Don’t look at me, I don’t know what she’s talking about.” I play dumb raising my hands in front of me.

“Jesus, you’re hopeless. Forget the stopping part, I just want the money.” Scully shakes his head resigned.

“Money? What money? I don’t know what’s going on here but I want money too.” Smitty enters in the company off Dave, Karrie and Jeff.

“When did everybody get so greedy? Actually, it is you who should pay me for my show, I’m the only one who keeps you entertained in this boring touring life.” I smirk as I begin to tune my orange Les Paul.

“As for me, I prefer boredom by all means.“ she rolls her eyes and begins to flipping through her notebook.

“Hey, Judy, we have a few spare hour after the soundcheck and I thought… I thought we could begin your bass guitar lessons.” Jeff scratches his nape holding his other hand deep in his pocket. Awkward loverboy alert… I pull a few steps away because I’m not interested in this embarrassing lovey-dovey but I also try to stay within earshot. Not that I give a shit about it, it’s just better to keep up with the sequels.

“Sure!” she smiles. “I mean, Karrie, do you have any plans for the rest of the afternoon? If you don’t, we could…”

“Beth wants to do some shopping, I forgot to mention it… so I’m going with her. I wanted to ask you too but I have a mind like a sieve…” Karrie answers suspiciously quickly.

“Oookay, then why not?”

“Your place or mine?” Jeff asks not noticing how ambiguous he sounds.

“Jesus, Jeff, you don’t waste your time, straight to the point…” I throw in, which makes the others stop staring them and suddenly everybody pretends to be busy with their work to hide their grins and snorts.

“There’s that small park near the hotel, what if we go there?” the target person of the courtship tries to ignore my remark but can’t disguise the tremble in her voice.

Clever, again. She picks a neutral place. Cautious enough not to show her closest surrounding and smart enough not to get in awkward situations. I mean, boys’ rooms tend to be quite messy, the mixed smell of sweat and deodorant for men, not to mention the stinky sneakers and boxers left on the bed…

“Great. I’ve already mapped out which things I want to show you first.” Jeff goes on enthusiastically and more awkwardly if it’s possible at all. I see Dave’s shoulders shaking as he kneels behind his bass drum to fake-fix its pedal.

“Let’s begin with the basics, I only learnt the most common chords to be able to play some accompaniment to campfire songs and nursery rhymes.” she insists on keeping the conversation under control but Jeff doesn’t seem to cooperate.

“I can teach you a few useful finger techniques.” he exercises the fingers of his bear paws with sincere innocence in his eyes but at this point everybody cracks up; even his future music student giggles bashfully.

“What’s with everyone?” he looks around confused. “What’s so funny?”

“You should… have… heard yourself...” Scully hiccups as he and Smitty collapse of uncontrollable laughter onto each other’s shoulder.

“Oh yeah. That conversation was… juicy.” Dave adds winking and doing unmistakable moves with his hips and arms.

“Oh fff…” Jeff buries his face into his palms replaying the scene in his head. Dave steps to him to pat his shoulders a few times.

“You know what, Ames? You shouldn’t talk so much about what you’re going to do. Just… do it.”

***

“So what’s your plan with that skateboard?” Judy asks while we’re walking in the park searching for a remote place. She hasn’t come up with that awkward conversation yet and I can’t be grateful enough to her for that. I don’t know what happened to me, usually I’m not that clueless type… I was probably way too much focused on the possible outcome of this day. If can I stick to my plan, I’m going to ask her out in like one hour and I have absolutely no idea what she might answer and that drives me crazy. Cool down, Ament, don’t act like a junior high school student before his first prom…

“Uhm… I know it sounds surprising but I thought I could skateboard here…” Aaaand in the category of meaningless answers, the Oscar goes to… drumbeat… Jeffrey Allen Ament, Big Sandy, Montana!!! “Plus, I thought if being a qualified musician, you found the class boring, we could spice it up with some physical challenges… like… you should play bass lines while rolling and balancing on this skateboard. And if it was still a piece of cake for you we could search for a skate park with half pipes and you could even do somersaults and flips.”

“I don’t know… I’m not an athletic type… I’ve only tried to ride a scooter once in my life. Mary Sue Kellerman, my classmate lent me hers on the playground when we were second graders. She explained and showed me how to do it but somehow I didn’t feel the technique, I stepped on it, drove it a few times and enjoyed the speed so much that I forgot to drive it again.” she giggles.

“And… what happened?”

“Seeing I was slowing down she yelled after me like ”Drive, drive!” but I felt paralyzed, I pulled up gradually and ended up tumbling from a standing position…”

“Poor you! But my first skateboarding attempts weren’t glorious either and I still collect a few injuries when I decide to learn a new trick. But I fell in love with it at first… try, and I never want to give it up.”

“You could be a cool, skateboarding grandpa who shocks the youth!”

We find a calm, trellis-like corner and settle down still discussing the same topic. Unlike most girls I know, she doesn’t mind it at all and when I tell her how my father convinced me to build my own skateboard instead of buying that expensive Stacy Peralta board, she turns out to know him. I can’t believe my ears when she mentions Tony Alva too, I mean, who’s this girl?

“And how did you pick up how to play the guitar?” she nods towards the bass on my lap.

“Believe or not I took a few lessons… But they were boring, at least for me, no chords, no songs, only scales…”

“Scales are important!” she corrects me. I always forget that she’s pretty conscious as for music which isn’t typical at all in the band.

“What can I say… I grew up listening to my uncle’s records and as I could spare some money I spent all of it on ordering music magazines and vinyls. And when I started playing bass I figured out how to use my stereo vinyl player to learn Dee Dee Ramone’s parts.”

“I love them!” she exclaims.

“Really? I mean, you know a lot about music and punk songs aren’t very sophisticated concerning the musical part…”

“But that’s the best in punk. Even if you’re not very talented technically you still can play a bunch of songs… or if you can’t, you can still reproduce Dee Dee Ramone’s totally out-of-rhythm “one-two-three-four” yelling. And most punk songs operate with the classic scale degrees. Ramones also use the holy trinity of tonic, subdominant and dominant like the greatest composers before them and…” she jabbers enthusiastically without breathing.

“Waitwaitwait, stop! I don’t have the faintest clue what you’re talking about, if you want to analyze my favorite songs to me you have to go back to Genesis to make it understandable for this Montanan jerk!” I cut her off chuckling.

“Do you mean the Old Testament or the band?” she grins. “Anyway, it’s very simple, look.”

She grabs the instrument out of my lap, disposes it onto hers and strums all strings one after another.

“Normal basses are tuned like double basses, right?“ To my nodding she names them. “E, A, D, G. So, let’s take Blitzkrieg Bop which is written in A major.” She plays the bass line of the mentioned song flawlessly and explains its chord progression in the meantime. I listen to her with dropped jaw and when she falls silent for a second, I take my bass quickly back.

“Okay, the lesson is over, excuse me but I have to go and bury myself alive.” I remark trying to keep a straight face.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t want to sound like a nerd or show off with my theoretical knowledge, I…”

“You don’t have to apologize for amazing me! But now it’s my turn to amaze you… Do you like graffiti?”

“I don’t know… I’m ambivalent… there are a few ones which look good and are also meaningful but if someone destroys a clear wall with stupid scrawls…” she frowns.

Oh. That’s not a good sign… Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale…

“I prefer the creative ones too, such as my friend from the art school. He studied photography and spent his last years with shooting the best graffiti he’s seen all across the country and Canada and his exhibition opens on Thursday in Boston. And since we have a day off right that day, right there, I thought you could join.” I utter fast with one big breath. She stares me silently for a few seconds which seem like an eternity.

“ ’Course. Cool.” she answers briefly as if she was declaring something evident. I don’t have too much time to process the positive reception since she begins to roll my skateboard back and forth with her foot.

“Your introduction made me curious, I want to try this diabolical device.”

“Haha, okay, but only if I can walk next to you, you may need a handhold.”

She steps onto the board and she rolls cautiously on the path where we got here in a few minutes. She’s too busy with balancing to notice the rest of the band approaching from the gate.

“Hey Jeff, a suspicious woman is trying to steal your baby!” Eddie shouts.

“Look, guys I’m skateboaaaaaa…” she has to circle with her arms a few times and grab my shoulder to prevent herself from tumbling.

“Carefully, Judy. You should try surfing, it improves sense of balance and falling in water is safer than concrete.” Ed recommends.

“Say yes, if you don’t want to be fired…” Mike whisper-shouts hiding his face with one hand from Eddie preventing him from hearing it, which is obviously totally unnecessary.

“I’m not a big swimmer, so…” she shrugs apologetically.

“Anyway, did Jeff force you to try it? You can answer by signaling with your eyelids…” Mike jokes on.

“No, she just turned out to be a way better bass player than me. So I’ll quit the band and she’s begun to practice before she has to take over all of my tasks.”

“Ah, I see. Judy, I warn you, you’ll have to slam-dance with me. You should gain some weight, I don’t want to kill you…”

“Ed’s right. I’m going to slap you in the face with the guitar neck a few times… I mean literally… but no offense, you can hit back anytime you want or you can land on my foot after jumps from the monitor box like Jeff does…”

Judy wrinkles her nose as she tries to follow the relay of jokes. Stone – who has stayed silent until now – flashes an evil grin and clears his throat. The well-known first signs of his moronic verbal diarrhea.

“Guys, you forgot to prepare her for the most important circumstances. But that’s why I am the band leader… Judith, you have to do some shopping. The polyester basketball shirts are essential parts of our stage look, we can’t allow ourselves losing them just because Jeff quits. And the hats… that’s a more difficult question, they look quite… unique… so I don’t think you have any other choice than borrow them. Do you have sensitive scalp? Because… nevermind, I can lend you a few bandanas to make it more hygienic. Oh, and at certain points of the shows you’ll have to strip. Jeff often drops his shirt and plays on half-naked as you could already see it, you can’t break this tradition. But you also have to keep the hat on your head, don’t ask me why, that’s the rule.”

I sway my guitar case pretending I want to hit him and in the meantime I bite my lower lip to repress my grin. Stone is an idiot but sometimes he has good ideas… I mean obviously I can relate to that plot if I can be in the crowd… Jesus, when did I become such a sexist? I’ve just asked the poor girl out and… I’d better take a cold shower.

***

“And can we see you on TV on Saturday?” I ask rolling the film with my finger back and forth on the table. When Judy called me I was selecting pictures I want to show to Krisha as reference works and I found a few ones which I have to have developed.

“Nah, I don’t think so. We’re going to be with the guys in the studio but we’re not going to be filmed with the cameras. I think Karrie and Brett will have to work with the sound staff in the control room and I… I don’t know yet, if they let me in too I’ll just watch them like a useless idiot… which I am…”

“Control room? Wow, that sounds like a sci-fi, I can totally imagine the Star Trek characters there…” I deliberately ignore her low self-esteem-powered remark. “I’ve also seen in the previews that Sharon Stone would host the show, that’s an interesting combination…”

“Yep, Eric mentioned the creators wanted a funny scene or spot with her and the band but I don’t know if they can find a common ground. They only want to play music and aren’t interested in show business at all.”

“Maybe they want to gag with their physical appearance. Like, Sharon is tall and her legs are unrealistically long whereas Eddie is short so the screenwriters may figure out a joke about him being able to walk between her legs without bowing his head.” I guess as I start rummaging the photo heaps in front of me.

“Haha, you’re evil! You have no right to joke about Ed’s height, you’re a dwarf just like me…”

“But dwarf jokes are the best ones, you have to admit it. And… what are your plans until Saturday? Have you used the tape recorder yet?”

“Noooo…”

“You’re unbelievable, I’ve said you should…”

“…borrow a guitar, I know. Uhm, yesterday Jeff gave me a bass lesson, does that count?”

“Mmmmh, Jeff Ament?” I ask meaningfully. Since Judy joined the staff I played with the idea of them getting together, he seems to match her.

“No, Jeff Goldblum… of course Jeff Ament, who else? And he also let me ride his skateboard.”

“He let you ride his skateboard? That’s how you call it? It’s that a new slang or…” I cackle.

“Shut up, I meant it literally. No slang, no obscene details.” she cuts me off severely. So typical, usually she isn’t against sex related jokes but when actual guys around her come into play, she suddenly turns into a prude spinster.

“Okay, okay, I was just kidding. I’m just surprised, you haven’t mentioned yet you two spend time alone.” Actually I’m happy for these news, not only because I think they’d click but also because in the first ten minutes of our conversation she was cursing Stone Gossard. And even if only the half of what she claimed is true, I can’t blame her; the dude must be quite obnoxious. But still, she barely mentions anyone else from the band and I’m afraid if she goes on like this, these negative feelings will spoil her tour. “And how went the skateboarding? Did you collect a few bruises?”

“Haha, not yet. I didn’t try any tricks and I was probably quite clumsy but he kept encouraging me, he’s a nice guy. And ah, as for plans, he asked me whether I want to go to the photo exhibition of his friend in Boston. The guy invited them and Jeff asked me to join too.”

“That sounds great! And what kind of photos?”

“Photos of interesting graffiti. Jeff used to draw graffiti as well, did you know that? He told me a lot about himself but not in that annoying way when one is talking and talking and isn’t interested in the listener at all… this and the fact Eric defended me and they even gave me a cake… and that Jeff invited me with the bunch… make me feel they really accepted me as a member of the crew… and… oh, shit, I have to go, we have to set off for the show! Kisses for Mom and Granny!”

“Bye, take care of…” It’s needless to finish the sentence since she hung up in the meantime.

A few minutes later, I can hear the key turning in the lock and Mom literally falls in the apartment with her heavy shopping bags.

“You should have knocked, I would have helped you if you had asked me…” I shake my head and collect the apples and small cans which rolled everywhere on the ground.

“If I can give injection to Mrs. Mueller while she’s yelling at me calling me Gestapo’s slut, I can do everything…”

“Your foundation should employ octopuses, they are strong, can use their legs independently and are good listeners. And some of your clients wouldn’t even wonder if one crawled into their home…”

“That’s sure. I ask the opinion of my boss about it.” she settles to the table staring exhausted in front of herself.

“Anyway, you’ve just missed Judy’s call.”

“Damn… I wanted to hear her voice, I literally tossed Mrs. Muller into her bed to finish earlier…”

“Unfortunately you can’t see her either… I asked her about Saturday Night Live and we won’t see her in the show… But we still could watch it together, I would show you the guys and tell everything I’ve heard about them from her. We could make some popcorn and…”

“Oh, sweetie, haven’t I mentioned yet? I… I have to work…” she suddenly gets embarrassed.

“What? In the evening? On Saturday? By the time the show begins your clients are already sleeping the sleep of the just.” I complain.

“I know, but… there’s a former colleague from the hospital who works now in a nursing home. A few nurses quitted and I thought we could use the extra money so she recommended me to her boss as an occasional substitute nurse. And I begin on Saturday.”

Great. Since when have we concealed things like this from each other? I thought we could finally have a mother-daughter evening when she didn’t talk only about the insufferable old terrorists and didn’t pass out of exhaust right after dinner… she should finally relax and I need her company too, since Judy left I’ve felt like a lonely prisoner. And that’s more important than money, we don’t starve and if I got a few jobs I could contribute to our budget too, I wouldn’t be the cripple anymore who costs them a lot.

“And why didn’t you tell me that? Is it a secret or what?”

“Effie, honey, stop pouting, please. You can record it to me and we can watch it on Sunday. And I won’t even say a word if you stop it at every single shot, I’m going to listen to every single detail about these jam boys, I promise.”

“Mmmkay…” I mutter. I don’t like this patronizing voice, I’m not a toddler, I just want her to be honest with me.

“And what are you doing? Selecting pictures?”

“Yes… nothing particular…”

If she doesn’t tell me everything, why should I, right?

#pearljam #fanfiction #fanfic #I'm too tired to proofread it properly #sorry #pearl jam #pearljamfanfic #eddie vedder #stone gossard #mike mccready #jeff ament #dave abbruzzese

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