#stone gossard imagine

[hearditinthewind]

SCRUNCHIES

pairing: stone gossard x f!reader warning(s): none, just fluff word count: 990 authors note: a lil something i threw together after i got drunk and watched a bunch of temple of a dog videos the other night. im an absolute sucker for 1990, temple of a dog stone + his hair and big sweatshirts. also i know they didn’t sing call me a dog at this show at the moore but it’s my fave so i wanted it in here somewhere 

Seattle, WA - 1990

Backstage of the Moore Theatre ran rampant with excitement and nerves. You sat on a dingy dressing room sofa watching as the band flittered in and out of the room. Journalists and photographers popped in and out, some ran to get drinks and go see the opening band, Panic, as they kicked off the show, and the others lingered around backstage to grab a smoke and hang out to loosen up before their own stage cue.

You took a swig of your beer and watched as Stone searched through his bag on the vanity table. He dug through the side pockets and then inside, then tapped his pockets, a little defeated. He asked you, "have you seen my hair tie? The white one?"

Your first glance was to the coffee table in front of you - the hair tie was nowhere to be seen among the overflowing ashtrays and empty beer bottles. Your gaze dropped to your own wrist, the little white band nowhere in sight. "No, not since we got here. Did you grab it off the table by the bed?"

"Fuck, no, that's where I left it," he cursed with a grin as he turned to you with a smile, he felt stupid for forgetting it, "do you have a spare?"

Just under the cuff of your flannel was a bright pink scrunchie. Susan had given it to you last month from her own wrist when you got sick at the Off Ramp after too many vodka cranberries. It had come to use in emergency situations since, and now, it had another use.

You sat your beer bottle down on the table and unfolded your legs to pat the sofa. "Yeah, yeah, come 'ere,"

Stone started to bunch his hair together behind his neck as he walked over. He lowered down onto the floor between your legs and you reached out to pull his hair behind his shoulders. His brown wavy locks spread across his back and you ran your fingers through the stands to pull back into a ponytail, the pink scrunchie wrapped tightly around the hair so it wouldn't slip out mid-show.

Helping Stone with his hair was nothing new to you. He wasn’t bashful, he asked you to play with it, and if he didn’t want to verbally ask, he would throw his head in your lap and hope you got the hint. You always played with in when you could, you even made him do at-home hair masks with you every month or so, and you usually washed it for him in the shower in the early mornings he joined you when he wasn’t exactly fully awake. 

"There you go," you said with a twirl of the ponytail around your finger. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Thank you baby," he grinned and turned his head to give you a quick kiss, rubbing at your arms before standing to grab his guitar from across the room.

The rest of the band trickled in with time to gather and double-check the setlist. You had fought hard with them to get Call Me A Dog on the brief setlist and Chris eventually cracked and jotted it down at your pleasure. Half an hour passed and with Panic off stage, just a mere hour before Alice in Chains were set to headline, Temple of the Dog took the stage as the second and final opener.

You stood at the side of the stage with roadies and girlfriends, and Eddie who was behind with a microphone stand, all to watch the band, to watch the crowd. They had only played one show as Temple of the Dog before that night, just three weeks ago, and the show went so well they immediately agreed when the record label came forward to ask if they wanted to take part in the three-band line-up at the Moore before Christmas. It was an early present for everyone, even them. And you, as well. Even though you witnessed rehearsals and soundcheck, you were still by the stage at every show, and it felt like a treat every single time. Live music was the center of your life before you met Stone, and that didn't change when you two started dating, even though you were quickly forced into the world of live music and a different perspective of it. Going to live shows made you feel alive, made you feel happy. So you and your friends danced at the side of the stage that night and belted the lyrics to every song on the short setlist like it was the first show you had ever been to.

Towards the end of their set, just before the last song, you watched as Stone reached up and pulled off his baseball cap, and then he pulled out the scrunchie. He looked down at the scrunchie in his hand and then over to you, and held it out in your direction with a wide grin as he walked over. You didn't think twice, you stepped out of the darkness of the stage wing and onto the stage, meeting halfway, in a sliver of light. 

You took the scrunchie from his hand and then pressed a brief kiss to his lips as he leaned over. A whistle echoed up to the stage and you both laughed into the kiss, but when you pulled back, Stone grabbed at your chin and pulled you back in for another, one that you gladly sank into. Public affection wasn't necessarily something that came out often outside of close friends and the band, but there were times when it slipped out, and you were both very unapologetic about it. 

Under the microphone feedback and whistles, you pulled back and said, "now, play me my favorite song," as your eyes listened in the lowlighting.

Stone chuckled, nose nestled against yours, "will do,"

[callme2heaven]

Welcome to my Blog

Hello! My name is Isa, I am 26 and I also run @metallicaislife.

I adore the Seattle Grunge scene and the men behind it so I've decided to start writing for them.

Feel free to send in headcanons or chat! :)

Thank you for checking out my blog!

There will be smut occasionally, MDNI with those posts.

Masterlist

Chris is so pretty🥹

[tryskomys]

Wet Sand

Stone Gossard x OC

Chapter 2 - I’m On Fire

Summary: Let’s meet in our dreams.

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

notes: chapter two has arrived! i hope it's not too eccentric and confusing to read, it's the only way i know how. hope you enjoy <3

tw: weed, swearing, psychedelic-headache-inducing imagination. you know those dreams that feel like you've taken a hit of acid and fuck up your day before you can say “these edibles ain't shit”? yeah, there's that.

songs:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

A flash of ruddy hair appeared in her peripheral as she felt his warm breath tickle the back of her neck.

“This is my room,” he mumbled in her ear and led her inside a strange place with four walls, a ceiling and a floor. It didn’t look like a room at all.

She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it seemed to be made of something similar to cotton clouds, corporeal and see-through at the same time.

In the furthest corner, there was a single bed with bright pink sheets and a small tea table. It had a cup of coffee on top, along with a pocket weed pipe.

Her body twitched when he put his hand between her shoulder blades and extended his other lanky arm to point an extraordinarily long finger at the wall in front of them, landing right on a shiny sunburst Les Paul.

“This is my guitar,” he whispered again, his cold aquiline nose nudging her cheek. She wanted to turn around to take a peek at him, but she felt like she was frozen in time, gliding through the room as he gracefully pushed her further inside.

The walls expanded and shrunk over and over again, swirling like the smoke that was eerily sizzling out of the glass pipe.

“This is my bed,” he snapped her out of her dissociation again, his fingers wrapping around her waist. He led her towards the comfortable-looking mattress.

She didn’t protest when he spun her around and lifted her off the floor as if she were made of feathers.

She was looking right through him, unable to focus on his features, yet she knew exactly where to touch to caress his cheek. She could feel a few small freckles under her fingertips.

He hummed as he laid her down on the bed and straightened up again, reaching for the small transparent pipe crammed with green clumps.

His cheeks hollowed as he took a long, deep drag and then leaned on his knees, puffing the smoke right into her face. There was something inexplicably vulgar about the scent.

And as his hair fluttered under his exhale, it was as if she was simultaneously standing in a field full of wild strawberry bushes.

“This is my handy little grass pipe,” he breathed out the remnants of smoke, his voice low and stoic. Just when his features finally started to take shape and colour, he moved again and blurred into an unrecognizable tall figure climbing on top of her, knees at the sides of her hips.

He hovered above her as he swept her tangled hair out of her face, his Adam's apple moving up and down while he hummed an unidentifiable tune.

The melody was surprisingly delicate and gentle, contrasting his shameless indecency. When she subconsciously tried to look away from his scrutinizing stare, he swiftly caught her jaw in his hand, tutting.

"Nuh-uh. This is my dream, too. Don’t be a killjoy,” he mumbled, somewhat crass. He softly tugged on her chin to turn her head back to face him and when she did, his features finally took shape.

His eyes were impossibly big. Half-lidded with wildly dilated pupils, irises an unidentifiable, harsh shade of green. Encircled with smudges of messy black eyeliner, swirling through her brain like a head-spinning drug.

His lips curled into a cocky grin when a breath hitched in her throat. She reached up to run her hand through his red-tinted hair, but she grabbed nothing but air. He tutted again and slowly shook his head as if he was deeply disappointed in her naivité.

Suddenly, a shrilling high-pitched beep echoed through the floating room and wormed into her ear, pounding her brain like a sledgehammer. Her heart burst into rapid beats when he bent down to her face, a smug smirk still dancing on his angled features.

His phantom lips shivered over hers like a weightless quill, bony ribcage brushing against her chest as he let out an airy chuckle. His words were laced with condescending amusement.

“Oh, right. This is my alarm clock. It always seems to ring by the time we get here. What a shame…oh well. Tommorow, same time, same place. Don't you forget...”

His voice melted and got lost in the loud beeps as the room around her dissolved. Kiki let out a pathetic whine and she waved her hands in the air, trying to grasp onto his shoulders so he wouldn’t disappear with it.

It didn’t work, so she swiftly sat up in her bed, still grabbing the air around her.

When she realized the source of the noise was a blue alarm clock that sat on the coffee table next to her, she grabbed it and threw it against the wall with a childish grunt.

It stopped beeping, but its plastic container broke open and the battery fell out, rolling along the floor and stopping right at her feet as if to mock her.

She huffed, feeling a rush of blood pool in her cheeks as the fresh memory of her dream erased the ugly noise from her mind.

Huh. What the fuck…

She was extremely puzzled as she looked around her flat, finally grounding in reality. One room, that’s all she had, with a tiny kitchen counter and an even smaller bathroom.

Her window led to the street, though, so whenever she crawled out of her bed, she could open it right away and breathe in the frigid winter air.

She rubbed her eyes and looked out, watching as lone cars passed through the mist that settled above the dim streets of Seattle. She smiled to herself.

Could be a worse view.

Getting up, Kiki stretched and grabbed the alarm clock off the floor. She put it back together, finally looking at the time.

5:30. Fuck. That’s late.

She sped up her routine, clumsily slapping on mascara in the bathroom before quickly digging through her suitcase to fish out a clean shirt.

A month in and I still haven’t unpacked, what a well-mannered lady.

She couldn’t find anything, so she frantically looked around the room, kicking a rag and a bra out of her way. Her eyes fell on a white t-shirt that was thrown over the single chair next to her table.

She walked up to it and folded it open, revealing a round-shaped photo of an Indian man with a huge beard, long hair and sunglasses, circled with big words that spelled SOUNDGARDEN.

Oh. Oh, right.

The picture of the unruly guy from her dream finally fully materialized and her already heated blush grew even brighter when she realized that she did, in fact, not make him up.

Fuck. Beanpole.

“So you haven’t been to a gig here yet? God, that’s grim. Soundgarden is a great place to start, though. It’s a bit of everything, but mostly kinda metal-based. The U-Men are playing next week, if you’re into more punky stuff, ” Stone rambled and waved his hands around, which was clearly something he did a lot.

His strides were long and brisk, so she was a bit out of breath as she tried to catch up with him.

He had a big suede jacket on and a fuzzy knitted beanie with a big puffy ball on top.

Kiki had to giggle at his unusual visage, she couldn't put into words what made him so damn endearing, but he had an irresistibly charming skip to his step.

Now that he was in motion, he reminded her of a cub that hadn’t fully grown into its paws yet, his huge feet slapping against the crunching fresh snow, bony fingers wiggling through the air as he enumerated the upcoming week’s concerts.

Kiki threw the t-shirt on and quickly wiggled into her ragged denim overalls, cursing when the fuzzy brown sweater she stuck her head through made her hair stand up and crackle with static.

She promptly looked over at her clock again and tied her boots, grabbed her wristwatch off the table and put it in the pocket of her leather jacket.

As she skipped down the long stairs of the apartment building, she wrapped a long woollen scarf around her neck, scratching her forehead when a piece of cotton lint stuck to her eyebrow.

She hurried to the bike rack in front of the building, clumsily throwing her backpack on while trying to untangle the leather strap that tied her bike to the metal pipes. When she finally loosened it, she quickly grabbed the lock that hung on it, moved the three number buttons in the correct order and took it off.

She stuffed all of it in her pockets, too and hopped on her bike. And then she could finally set off to work, letting memories flow through her head.

“Stoney! Hey, Stoney! Stoked that you made it! Matt shed a few tears when he didn’t see you in the pit,” the seemingly intimidating guitar player called after the two of them, finally hopping off of the stage and excitedly waving to get their attention. He had a bushy black beard and hair messier than a bird’s nest.

Kiki tried to gather some courage by straightening her back and nudging Stone. He seemed to sense the tension in her muscles, so he delicately placed his hand on her back, putting in just enough weight to assure her that he was there.

“Oh, so it is your real name! Tough shit,” she mumbled as they moved through the crowd, earning a hearty chuckle while he answered various calls of 'Hi, Stoney', 'What’s up, Stoney', 'Hi ya, Stoney', 'Stop by for a shot, Stoney' and a bunch of other greetings. “Seems like I’m hanging with the popular kid, that’s an unexplored territory for me.”

“Chill out, you’ll fit in just right. The starving artists of Seattle generally respond well to greenies and you're undoubtedly irresistible.”

Irresistible.

That’s the word that occupied Kiki's head as he locked her bike to the rack in front of a parking lot with the leather strap and lock she fished out of her pockets, but then she noticed there was another, bigger bike next to hers, similarly battered and covered in stickers.

Mötorhead, Butthole Surfers, Nets…

She frowned, took out her watch and checked it before finally tying it around her wrist.

Where did this thing come from? I’m supposed to be starting the shift. Weird.

She sank her ears into the fluffy scarf and headed towards the Raison D’Être. When she turned the corner and reached the door of the artsy café, she took a bundle of keys out of her backpack to open up.

But the key didn't go in, as there was one already slotted in from the other side.

“The hell…” she sighed and pressed her nose against the frosted glass, trying to decipher any signs of life. She knocked and heard an unintelligible answer before a figure rose from behind the counter and walked up to the front.

When the door opened, Kiki found herself in front of a tall guy wearing a bizarre furry hat and a sleeveless basketball jersey, an interesting choice for this kind of weather.

Pearl earrings were hanging out of his ears and his face lit up with a wide cat-like grin. He towered over her, just like…

Dammit, get out of my head, beanpole.

“Can I help you?” the guy mused, leaning against the doorframe. He wore a ring on every finger and multiple beaded necklaces of different sizes and colours dangled from his muscular neck.

What a character.

Kiki chuckled and rattled her key bundle in the air.

“Can I help you? You seem awfully suspicious,” she shrugged and mirrored his stance. He giggled.

“You must be Kiki. I’m Jeff, really a pleasure to finally meet you,” he stuck out his hand and waited for her to shake it. Just as she reached out, he gently took her fingers and kissed the cold knuckles, old-fashioned style.

She huffed, but couldn’t help a little blush.

“Uh, that’s me. Great to meet you…Jeff? Oh, yeah! Rod told me about a Jeff on sick leave,” she said and silently thanked him as he motioned her to come inside. “Glad to see you on two feet! Word has it that you got injured in a freaky water polo accident or something.”

Jeff laughed and the youthful energy around him only intensified. He locked the door again and jogged to catch up with her, helping her out of the leather jacket like a proper gentleman.

He had a pleasantly light cologne, mixed with the scent of coffee beans as he was just in the middle of grinding them. And a faint hint of weed that was nowhere near as arousing as her dream made it out to be.

“Yeah, I busted my knee. Playing basketball, just to clarify.”

“I mean, there’s a ball and there’s a net, right? The only basics that matter,” Kiki wiggled her index finger at him and grabbed the barista apron he offered her. It had a bright psychedelic print on it, almost hypnotizing. Jeff snorted.

“Jeez, thank god my friend Stoney isn’t here, he’d fall in love with you on the spot,” he mused and her smile fell a bit, eyes wide.

Oh.

Her cheeks grew red, she tried to play it off by nonchalantly scratching her forehead.

“Would he now?” she smirked and Jeff nodded, leaning against the counter as he lousily wiped it with a damp rag that he took out of his back pocket.

“With that smart-ass-will-o’-the-wisp-punk thing you got going on? Madly,” he looked Kiki up and down and gave her another disarming grin. “Fortunately he’s at work, little baker boy at Grand Central.”

“Let me guess…”

She folded her arms and put on a thoughtful frown. She hoped that Jeff’s comment was supposed to compliment her.

“About yay high,” she raised her hand as far as she could, “…bad dye job, ridiculous scrunchie…” she counted on her fingers and Jeff’s jaw dropped, laughing as she continued.

“...bug-eyed, punchable face…”

Stone smirked as the bearded man patted his shoulder a few times after greeting him and before he could ask about his female company, another man joined them, a mane of curls flowing around his face like a sea of black seaweeds. He had a linen shirt on, opened all the way to his navel. The singer.

“‘Sup, Stoney? The guys went for a blunt but they’ll be right back. Who’s your little friend?” he mused and then stopped in his tracks for a second before slapping the bushy guitarist's stomach with the back of his hand.

“Kim, that’s Keeva. As in Kiki. No way,” he whistled and the guitarist, Kim, raised his eyebrows with a surprised nod.

“Oh! Oh, right! Jesus, hi, we were wondering when you’ll show up! I’m Kim, pleasure,” he extended his hand and Kiki bashfully shook it, her cheeks full of a crooked smile.

The singer chimed in with an introduction, almost cutting off his well-spoken friend.

“I’m Chris, so nice to meet you! We’ve heard about you shredding your way through this shithole, but you never showed up! We were starting to think you’re just an urban legend!” Chris ruffled her hair and giggled as if he was a genuinely happy child receiving a new toy for Christmas.

Stone chuckled, flicking her nose for the sixth time that evening.

“See, I told you you were a fucking cryptid.”

“Sylphs are known to migrate to America during this time of year, Stone. No wonder you dropped out,” Kim added, theatrically widening his eyes as Kiki rolled her eyes and scratched the back of her neck, grinning.

“Cool, so I don’t have to introduce you,” Jeff giggled and adjusted his hat. “When did that happen?”

“Last night. We met on the way to the Off Ramp. We were running late but he took me through a shortcut,” Kiki shrugged, walked behind the counter and hopped up on it.

She grabbed a small blackboard propped up next to the cashier and started writing down the Monday special - Hazelnut espresso.

Chris was a very attractive man, no doubt about it. He was even taller than Stone, but he filled the space around him, whereas Stone seemed to poke out. Even though Chris’s mane of curls had twice the volume hers had, Stone’s hair was somehow messier. Chris’s eyes were a cold shade of blue, but they felt warm and comforting. Stone’s saucer eyes made her want to look away, despite having an inviting golden hue.

He was everywhere, sticking out no matter who he stood next to.

“He, uh…he left an impression, that’s for sure,” she mumbled and cleared her throat, trying to get rid of the choking grip that was his face behind her eyelids.

“Like you wanted to slap him?” Jeff squinted, grinning again when she vehemently nodded.

“He’s good. A smart-ass for sure, plus there’s his whole chess club thing. But he’s kinda a brother by now. Oddly hot, chicks dig him. But don’t tell him I said that,” he wiggled with his finger when she gasped. “Doesn’t play ball, though, so that’s a little dent in his coolness.”

Chicks dig him, huh?

Oh, and of course he plays chess. Perfectly annoying.

“Depends. I mean, I personally never really got the appeal of sports. I’m more of a cheerleader,” Kiki smirked as Jeff’s smile grew even wider.

“Oh man, talk about two peas in a pod,” he muttered under his breath and disappeared into the back room for a moment before emerging with two big mugs.

“Fuck, I almost forgot. I kinda knew you were coming, so I made this when I opened up. Just a little welcome surprise,” he shrugged and handed her a warm cup of tea with milk. “A small piece of home, right? Hope you’re not allergic to milk or something.”

Christ, is everyone here a sweetheart? Talk about culture shock.

“Fucking hell, thanks so much, Jeff,” she pouted, humming when she took a sip. “Oof, it tastes better than my gran’s.”

“Maple syrup, that’s the secret ingredient,” Jeff winked and sipped on his coffee as well. “So, how did ya like Soundgarden?”

“Phew. It was breathtaking, seriously. I’ve never heard anything like that. And everyone was so nice, too. Stone introduced me to the band and stuff. We had a couple of beers, it was great…” she rambled and waved her arms around excitedly.

“How old are you? Can I even buy you a drink?” Chris chirped, squeezing her nose. Kiki grinned at his friendly gesture.

“Relatively fresh nineteen,” she retorted, her voice coming out as quacks as he still held onto her nose. He gasped.

“My god, you’re a baby!”

“Right?! Found her in a corner, too,” Stone chimed in, scoffing when Chris reached up and pulled his nose as well.

“Shut up, Stoney. You’re just jealous that you’re not daddy’s favourite child anymore,” he quipped, let go of them both and put his arm around Kiki’s shoulders. “Don’t listen to him, sweetheart. He may be barely legal but he still doesn’t know proper etiquette.”

She chuckled.

“Well, I don’t have citizenship yet and I’m fully legal in England. Therefore, there's technically nothing to feel bad about as I don’t exist in the federal records,” she shrugged and Chris laughed, the curls bouncing around his face like little black springs.

“Oh, Stoney, she’s a little minx, too. Now you’re in trouble, friend,” he slapped Stone’s scrawny shoulder and ruffled his hair. Stone shooed his hand away and shook his head, hoping his red hair would make the furious blush blend in.

Jeff clapped his hands like an excited kid.

“Wicked! Wait, are you even old enough to drink?” he teased and Kiki rolled her eyes.

“…and then everyone was like ‘Man, thank god Jeff isn’t here, he’s a fucking asshole.’” she added, making him laugh again. “I’m nineteen.”

“Jesus almighty, you’re a baby!” he exclaimed with a gasp and she closed her eyes, shaking her head.

Baby, we’re in the same boat here…

The words echoed through her head as a vicious cue to make her throat tighten once more.

“Here it goes again. Come on, you can’t be that much older!” Kiki crossed her arms and he straightened up proudly.

“I’m twenty-four,” Jeff retorted, but it definitely sounded like a kid trying to sell their age as grown and wise. That made her grin.

“Okay, big guy, I’ll believe that when I see your ID.”

Jeff was about to protest and reach for his wallet, but a firm knock on the front door made them both jump.

Kiki didn’t turn around, instead, she instinctively looked at her wristwatch while Jeff set off to check.

Hm. We open in an hour. Who’s -

“Dammit, Ames, I knocked like four times. If you want a new guitarist, just tell me. Making me freeze to death a bit overkill.”

The nasal voice from her dream created a wave of heat inside her, running through her body like someone dumped a bucket of scorching coffee on her head. She looked over her shoulder and there he was, in the flesh, right in front of her.

He had his big brown jacket on, a puffy checkered scarf bundled around his neck and a neatly tied burgundy bandana. His comically large hands were poking out of woollen fingerless gloves and he rubbed them together, slightly shivering.

When he saw her, he cracked into a wide crooked smile that made tiny little dimples appear on his frostbitten cheeks.

Irresistibly smug.

“Oi, cheerio, Baby! Beautiful morning, innit?” Stone chirped, putting on an atrocious accent again. Kiki narrowed her eyes.

“Well, look who it is. Are you stalking me, beanpole?” she hissed, the corner of her mouth twitching when he chuckled.

“You wish,” he raised an eyebrow and took off his backpack. “I came to welcome my rhythm section buddy Jeff back to the world of dead-end jobs.”

He mindlessly dropped the backpack on the counter and Jeff cursed, pushing it down to the floor.

“Dude, I just wiped it!” he frowned. “Did I miss something? What’s up with the baby?”

“She’s tiny, annoying and says ‘fuck’ like she’d just learned how to swear. Do the math,” Stone shrugged and flicked Kiki’s nose. She slapped his hand away.

“Give him a break, Jeff. It just makes him feel like a big boy,” she retorted and Jeff leaned against the counter, darting between them for a few seconds. Then he let out a huge sigh.

“Oh dear god, there’s two of them now.”

Kiki felt another wave of blood creep up her cheeks as Stone stared her down. He wasn’t wearing eyeliner this time, but his eyes were nonetheless overpowering.

Maybe even more so, strangely glowing in the dim morning light, seemingly lightened by the snow outside.

I don’t have time for this.

She stuck her tongue out at him, hopped off the counter and put the blackboard next to the cashier before turning her back to him. She began rearranging the to-go cups by size to occupy her brain with anything else but him.

He just smirked and loosened the top layers of his scarf.

“Andy’s not here yet?”

“Nope. Haven’t seen him since he brought me lunch three days ago. How was the gig?” Jeff questioned while he wiped off the snowdrops that fell on the counter from Stone’s backpack.

Stone leaned his elbows on it and rested his head in his hands, palms squishing his patchy red cheeks.

“Badass. The EP sounds even more incredible live, now that you have a comparison. There were, like, a ton of new people. Chicks everywhere, like mosquitoes. Hiro got hit in the face with a fucking bra. The whole of Sub Pop was there, too, all four of ‘em.”

“Were the guys there?” Jeff asked after a few moments of silence and the room suddenly filled with strange gravity. Kiki frowned a little and took a sip of her tea, trying not to eavesdrop. Stone sighed.

“Steve was. We kinda waved at each other, but we didn’t speak,” he shrugged and scratched his temple. He coughed to get rid of the strain in his voice.

“I met Baby, though, so that was significantly more stimulating. Intellectually, of course,” he mused and Jeff snorted, looking between the pair.

“Bet.”

Kiki turned around and hummed, still clutching her cup.

“Glad to serve, beanpole. When do I get to see the two of you play, anyway? I’ve heard that you’re hot shit and I’d love to confirm slash deny that,” she nonchalantly crossed her arms but tensed when she saw the sombre look exchanged between them.

Bad move.

“Actually, we just broke up. About a month ago,” Jeff mumbled and tucked the rag into his back pocket again. Stone’s expression turned serious again, hardening like a statue.

“It was for the best of all of us, we weren’t going anywhere.”

He didn’t sound as sure as he probably wanted to. He bit his lip and looked at Kiki as if he was waiting for her reaction. She let out a heavy sigh.

“Christ, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be nosy or anything,” she mumbled and Jeff shook his head, softly patting her back.

“No, no, it’s okay, we sort of initiated it, anyway. Musical differences and all that.”

“They told us to go fuck ourselves because we were careerists,” Stone chimed in and emphasized the word with bitter air quotes, clearly hurt by the sentiment.

Jeff smacked his lips and frowned at Stone, obviously trying to draw a thick line under that conversation. Kiki bit her cheek, thinking of something to say.

“To be honest, you do seem like little gold diggers,” she sighed and they both chuckled, which was a relief. “No, but seriously. Nobody’s punk enough to enjoy cleaning tables and swiping floors and scrapping for food. And if they say they are, they’re lying.”

Jeff and Stone exchanged a small content smile, obviously glad that someone was on the same page with them.

“Yeah. Sounds good if you have three warm meals and a comfy bed secured at home. Like Stoney here. He has a little trust fund, don’t you?” Jeff poked Stone’s chest.

He began to turn red in the face and once again, Kiki caught a rare awkward crack in his facade. She opened her mouth wide and gasped.

“Aw, you have a loving family, Stoney? That’s not very punk rock of you,” she tutted and shook her head, grinning widely when he reached over the counter and squeezed her nose.

“Shut it, Baby. I’m a working struggling artist just like you…fuck!” His eyes widened. “What time is it?”

She promptly checked her watch.

“Quarter to six.”

“Uh, yeah, gotta run. The baguettes won’t bake themselves,” Stone explained, tightened his scarf and grabbed his backpack off the floor. He turned his attention to Jeff. “Be back for lunch, the usual time. My treat today, I’ll bring some grub. Got any grass?”

“Dude, come on. You’ll ruin me. This is the last time, I'm telling you, you’re buying next. I only have enough left for three spliffs, anyway,” Jeff firmly shook his head and shooed Stone away.

Kiki chuckled, trying to shut down her embarrassing thoughts.

She was afraid that Stone could hear them, observing himself puffing a thick cloud of illicit smoke in her face from an obscenely small distance.

He certainly looked at her like he was seeing it as well, a pompous grin plastered on his face as he raised his eyebrows, innocently questioning why she was so flustered.

“Well, you're free to keep my share, weed stinks like a sweaty ballsack. Always, no exceptions,” she added the last part to convince herself. She would’ve succeeded if it wasn’t for Stone’s loud wolf whistle.

“Would you look at that, Ames? We got a good catholic schoolgirl on our hands,” he chirped. Kiki mocked a laugh and gave him a middle finger, using her offensive gesture to obscure the patchy blush on her face.

Jeff giggled, reaching for the coffee mill next to him.

“Leave her alone, dude. I wanna catch a jam with her before she gets a restraining order against you,” he affectionately patted Kiki’s head.

“Don’t care, I’ll corrupt her sooner or later, that’s a cross I have to bear. Are you two free today? Parents are out of town, so we can get that jam off our chests. I get off at five.”

“That’s weirdly specific,” Kiki squinted at him, still red in the face. Jeff’s cheeks puffed with a throaty laugh as Stone tried his best to keep the corners of his mouth down.

“Depends. If you’re good enough, I may cut it down to four, just for you. Now, fetch me a keg of cappuccino to go, fair maiden!”

She gasped and flung her arm to slap his head, but he managed to jump out of her way. Jeff’s chirpy laughter echoed through the room as he raised his arms to keep them apart.

“Okay, Tom and Jerry, knock it off.”

“I’ll fetch you a cappuccino when you fetch me a breakfast croissant, baker boy,” Kiki hissed and Stone broke into a smug grin, skipping away to the door.

“Deal. Be right back,” he waved and walked right into a coathanger. He caught balance pretty quickly, though, and slung the backpack over his shoulder.

“Don’t threaten us,” she called back at him and cackled at his stumble. He blew each of them a theatrical air kiss and backed out of the door, disappearing into the light snow around the corner. Kiki chuckled, staring out of the window for a few more seconds.

The faint cloud of his strawberry shampoo lingered in her head, along with the sweet freezing air that emanated from his clothes.

Kiki had heard some girls swooning over Chris when she and Stone made their way through the crowd after the show. She wondered if girls talked like that about Stone at his band’s gigs.

Considering the amount of chicks that greeted him with the affectionate nickname, the ghastly purring giggles already rang in her ears.

She fixed her dissociated gaze at no particular place in front of her. Chris led her through the small venue to the bar, answering greetings from all sides.

“Hey, you ok?” he questioned and he squeezed her shoulder. She jerked, realizing he was probably speaking to her the whole time. Stone chuckled.

“She does that a lot, just zones out to make contact with the Mothership.”

“Har har, beanpole. Sorry, I’m just…getting a bit tired, I guess. Long day,” she shrugged and gave Chris an apologetic smile.

“It’s past Baby’s bedtime, you see?” Stone patted her head and she frowned, elbowing him in the stomach.

“I’ve spent basically my whole evening talking to you, Stoney. No wonder I’m falling asleep,” she put on a sarcastic smile and emphasized what was apparently the only correct way to address him.

Stone was just about to return the jab when Chris interrupted them with a hearty giggle.

“Shit, didn’t you say you’ve just met? Like, today? Can’t wait to see you twenty years of marriage deep,” he grinned and ignored their heated cheeks as he ordered a round of tequila shots.

After a few seconds of staring through the glass door, Kiki noticed Jeff in the corner of her eye, studiously watching her.

She did a double-take between the street and his smug smirk and frowned.

“'Sup?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he raised his arms in surrender with a small wink and then started grinding coffee again, humming. When she disappeared into the back room with a suspiciously bright grin, he added the lyrics.

“So this is love, mmhm hmhm…”

[the-90s-music-colosseum]

Quarterfinals, Match 3

expand to see all propaganda received!

PJ Harvey:

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

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

Stone Gossard:

"Have you seen that jawline?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[looseygoosey66]

Stone Gossard And Regan Hagar On Bookending Brad Via Pair Of New Releases

Since forming in 1992, Seattle rock outfit Brad has released six albums, experimenting with voices and sounds which allowed them to operate outside the grunge groundswell developing around them.

Driven by the soulful, one of a kind vocal of singer and pianist Shawn Smith, Brad’s music has always maintained a sense of honesty, the singer’s earnest delivery and thoughtful storytelling defining their best work.

Sessions for the group’s 1993 studio debut Shame, newly reissued to celebrate the album at 30, moved notoriously fast, with Brad emerging with a self-produced album in just 17 days, the result of a highly collaborative songwriting process.

“I think Regan has been using this word more often. But he talks about inception and how he’s so attracted to art that is sort of the first moment or the first time that something reveals itself,” explained Brad guitarist Stone Gossard, referencing Brad drummer Regan Hagar. “I think we had that on the first record in spades,” he said, looking back at Shame. “Because we were just jumping off a cliff saying, ‘Well, let’s make a record. We don’t have any songs but I know we can do it in 10 days. And we’ve never heard this bass player before but I bet he’s gonna be good! And we’re gonna go in a studio and it’s probably all gonna work out.’ And it actually did!” recalled the guitarist. “And the reason why is because we had that spirit of sort of dreaming and collaborating.”

Smith passed away tragically in April of 2019 at just 53 years old, the result of high blood pressure and a torn aorta shortly after the start of sessions for what would become Brad’s sixth studio album.

Processing the loss of their friend and bandmate, Brad reconvened to finish the music that makes up the new In The Moment That You’re Born, now available on vinyl and for online streaming, a collection of ten songs which includes a Brad take on “Stars n You,” Hagar revisiting his work alongside late singer Andy Wood in the group Malfunkshun.

“To me, this record is the most similar to the first. So, it’s interesting that they’re bookending each other from our career as it were as a group collectively,” Hagar observed. “The early tracks, it was 17 days of just kind of throwing ideas down and that kind of collaboration - working through songs in real time onto tape,” he said of the Shame sessions. “This latest record is actually a collection of those moments through the past decade really, where we had gotten together for a weekend at a time to throw ideas down - always with the intention of getting together later to finish,” Hagar explained. “When we did get together to finish, Shawn wasn’t with us any longer unfortunately. So, it remained rawer and more like the inception of the songs than some of the other albums. Which, I think, looking back at it now, lends itself so much to our first outing, the Shame album, that it’s poetic in a sense.”

Both the Shame reissue and the new In The Moment That You’re Born album are now available via Gossard and Hagar’s own Loosegroove Records, a label they ran together between 1994 and 2000, relaunching the label in 2020 in partnership with music distributor The Orchard, a forward thinking entity focused on great music which drills down on the lost art of artist development.

I spoke with Stone Gossard and Regan Hagar about the legacy of Shawn Smith, the cathartic process of wrapping up In The Moment That You’re Born and bookending the Brad story in surreal fashion via a pair of new releases. A transcript of our phone conversation, edited for length and clarity, follows below.

Jim Ryan: Stone, when you and I spoke in 2020, you mentioned that you were hoping to get this last Brad record out. Here we are almost three years later. I imagine it’s a difficult process but is it cathartic at all seeing it out there now starting to find an audience? Does that bring closure at all?

Stone Gossard: I think it’s cathartic. And it does bring some closure for sure. The process was three years and I think it was appropriately long in terms of sort of all of the things that needed to happen to sort of move through the process of listening, finalizing and bringing back the sort of key players that are going to be part of the decisionmaking in terms of Brad and Shawn’s estate and Lucy his partner. And just kind of getting everybody to see the idea and to approve. So that was a good process for us.

We got deep listens on a lot of tracks that we had recorded over the last five years. And I think we went in with the mental attitude of, “How do we move through this like Brad would move through stuff naturally?” And I think we were able to do that. Leaving it raw and loving elements that are sort of unpolished - but also sort of messing around and tweaking stuff and flipping it over and trying new stuff.

It gave Regan and I a chance to spend some time with Keith Lowe. Keith was a major contributor on the songwriting end of this record, which is a great, great thing. We really got to sit in the studio together and just listen to these old tracks. And spend some time together and think about Shawn and how much we miss him and how much his musical energy and his kindness and his humor and his view of life - just how much we appreciated that. And it was a good process. And I think in the end that the record turned out great.

“In the Moment That You’re Born” is the first single and it’s kind of one of the best Brad songs that I think we’ve ever written. It has an element of Satchel in there, which is Shawn and Regan’s other band. It’s heavy and it’s soaring and it has one of those lyrics from Shawn that sort of transcends and that can really bring a lot of meaning to a song. So, it was a good process.

Regan Hagar: I appreciate Stone’s answer there. It was quite an experience losing Shawn. And then going through and listening again gave all of us different ears for a moment. And just hearing Shawn’s message was coming across so much clearer in his absence. It was an interesting experience - very fulfilling.

Ryan: I was listening to the album again this morning. I think there’s a real honesty in Shawn’s lyrics. And I think that’s something that very much comes across in his vocals too - they’re so earnest. What sort of struck you about hearing him deliver these new songs as you started to reapproach them again after a few years?

Stone: Earnest is one word. I do think there’s very little between Shawn’s singing and sort of the very present sort of emotion of what he’s going through. I don’t know what the right word for that is. In terms of my experience with other singers, and just in music in general, his ability to sort of summon that kind of energy out of the universe in terms of being able to crystalize his emotions into a vocal melody, and even a vibration in his voice and how his voice comes across - it’s very pure. And it has an element to it that’s just undeniable when you’re in the room with it and when you’re listening to it. In the moment of creation, Shawn is really at his best. He really has a superpower there.

Ryan: I know that writing Shame was pretty collaborative. But by the time you get to this one, everyone’s just busier. There’s so many more things in play 30 years later. But, at least initially, how did these songs start to come together as you guys started kicking around the idea of a new Brad album?

Regan: To me, this record is the most similar to the first. So it’s interesting that they’re bookending each other from our career as it were as a group collectively.

The early tracks, it was 17 days of just kind of throwing ideas down and that kind of collaboration - working through songs in real time onto tape. This latest record is actually a collection of those moments through the past decade really, where we had gotten together for a weekend at a time to throw ideas down - always with the intention of getting together later to finish. So, when we did get together to finish, Shawn wasn’t with us any longer unfortunately. So, it remained rawer and more like the inception of the songs than some of the other albums. Which, I think, looking back at it now, lends itself so much to our first outing, the Shame album, that it’s poetic in a sense. This record reminds me of the first experience in its raw nature.

And the fact that we’re looking at a collection of song inceptions. And not that they’re not finished, but a lot of times in the studio you’ll redo things several times or add parts. And that wasn’t necessarily the case. The bulk of these songs are really just one or two passes with the band in the studio. So, it’s fun.

Ryan: Regan, what was it like revisiting Malfunkshun? How did you guys go about putting a new spin on “Stars n You” and kind of reapproach that track?

Regan: That was actually Stone’s idea. It was one of those weekends where we just got together and only did that song. And we had been apart for quite a long time at that point. It wasn’t initially going to be on the record I don’t think. In our first setup it wasn’t there. I had a really good time kind of revisiting that. Shawn was such a fan of Andy’s that when he approached it, he sounds to me very, very much like Andy. I can barely tell the two apart on that particular track - which is pretty phenomenal. As opposed to thinking he didn’t have an angle on it, Shawn shows amazing respect to Andy on that track. It’s been a good experience.

Stone: I knew how much that song meant to Regan and Shawn and I. And I think at the time it was like, “What’s something that can sort of remind us of where we came from? Something that’s fun that really could sort of reenergize our collaboration in a way?” Andy Wood was one of the most powerful, amazing sources of love and joy for all of us - everyone that met him, including Shawn. Invoking one of his songs just felt like the right thing to do at the time, you know?

Ryan: One of my favorite tracks on the album is “Without Guns.” A bit of a message there, some pretty powerful storytelling. But musically it’s great too. Am I hearing saxophone on there?

Regan: Yes! So, again, that’s a sketch. Sometimes Shawn would just vocalize what he thinks a melody should fit into a verse section and then would come back and do that later. This was one of those situations where we had a missing verse and we asked Hans Teuber, who had done some various horns and assorted instruments and keyboards and stuff with us on that album, to go in there and jam with Shawn’s scatting as it were - just kind of vocalize his idea. And it ended up just being really cool having the two of them run consecutively together. That’s what I’m thinking in my mind’s eye right now when you bring that up is that I really love that second verse where it’s Hans on sax and Shawn kind of scatting. It’s really amazing.

Stone: It’s great that you brought up that song. Because that’s definitely like a wonderful sort of - it’s not a Frankenstein but we started out with... I think Shawn did that as sort of a late night drum machine, one guitar and threw a vocal down where it was like, “OK. Here’s just kind of a crazy sketch…” But the more we listened to it, the more we fell in love with that character. The song has this... I don’t know what the right sort of word is. But this sort of homemade quality of it and… I don’t know. It has sort of has this quality to it that’s so nasty and broken and unpolished and unvarnished…

Regan: Like a drawl.

Stone: Yeah. It’s like he’s channeling some character from some place that is not Capitol Hill, you know? It’s great.

Ryan: Regan, you directed the video for “Hey Now What’s the Problem?” There’s this cool combination of vintage horror film imagery, cool pop culture moments, footage of the band - what were you going for with that video?

Regan: Right. I had initially been so excited about that track when it was first cut that I just threw together a bunch of my - I have a collection of pop clips. I am a bit of a videophile. This must’ve been six or seven years ago but I cut together all of that stuff without any of the band in it. Just running on excitement from cutting the track and listening to it and what Shawn was singing about, I just started getting the imagery of kind of how ridiculous some of those quote unquote “spooky” things are to people. And I found it somewhat ludicrous. So, I had just started comping that stuff together. And it sat for a bunch of years. And then when we finished the record, and it was time to generate some videos for it, I thought, “You know, I want to change that - but keep the same vibe.” But I ended up going and refreshing it with a bunch of clips of us playing that we had just to kind of bring it up to date. But it was just kind of goofing off with pop video stuff, which I really very much enjoy doing.

Ryan: Well, Regan, I think it was you that used the word “bookended” earlier. And that’s exactly the word that was in my head this morning. What a surreal way it is to sort of bookend this Brad story with the Shame reissue plus the new album. What did each of you learn in the process of working on both of these albums and taking a rare look like back like that in the depth you have throughout?

Stone: I think Regan has been using this word more often. But he talks about inception and how he’s so attracted to art that is sort of the first moment or the first time that something reveals itself. And I think over and over again through our careers, particularly with Regan and I, and with all of the bands that we’ve played in, when you first get together and you don’t know what anything is and you’re having this moment of like, “I’m free to be myself and I trust these people and I know that I’m safe...” I think that has been shown to us to be true again and again. The nature of the best stuff is when people let their guard down and come together collectively.

And I think we had that on the first record in spades. Because we were just jumping off a cliff saying, “Well, let’s make a record. We don’t have any songs but I know we can do it in 10 days. And we’ve never heard this bass player before but I bet he’s gonna be good! And we’re gonna go in a studio and it’s probably all gonna work out.” And it actually did! And the reason why is because we had that spirit of sort of dreaming and collaborating.

And I think the last record was the same in the sense that I think we came into the studio in those last sessions when Shawn was still with us and I think at the time we thought, “Well, what haven’t we done? How should we collaborate?” And I think the thing that we did was say, “Well, Keith Lowe, you’re a great player. You play some riffs.” And some of these Keith Lowe riffs that he brought out allowed us to kind of play in a different way than we normally played. And we layered those. And then Shawn Smith would come in and layer it in another way that we didn’t expect. And there was a generosity to the process that I think really comes across in the music.

So, long story short, I think it’s that inception and collaboration are those two things that really generate the most in the least amount of time.

Regan: I feel fortunate. And to see the absoluteness of it now with Shawn’s passing, I just feel thankful. And I’m glad that, though difficult at times, the band really stuck to doing what we wanted to do. And sometimes that was trying to please each other, sometimes it was trying to please ourselves. But I like that we did it together. We’re such old friends in a sense. It’s rare - being old now and realizing that it’s a little bit more special than we realized. It feels good.

[dissident-vedder]

- the christmas miracle ( 𝐒.𝐆. )

ADD YOURSELF TO MY TAGLIST!

character a vows to do something nice for a stranger during christmas time. character b is that stranger.

A/N - layout by @adoresobs​!  prompt by @fanficy-prompts​

𝐌 𝐀 𝐒 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 𝐋 𝐈 𝐒 𝐓

tears pricked at the back of your eyes. here you were, two weeks away from christmas, and still no presents, no decorations, and very little food to even last this week. nina, your six-year-old daughter, kept asking about why christmas hasn’t come yet to your house, but how were you gonna tell her that you were struggling to buy food alone? it seemed like everyone in your apartment building knew of your financial status. they eyed you sadly as you walked down the hallways, making your way to work your one of two jobs, dark undereye bags staining the once skin-toned flesh, nina constantly wondering why you were working and no longer spending time with her as much as you used to. 

“i’m here to pick up nina,” you told him. “i’m her mom, mrs. gossard takes care of her in the afternoons.” 

“oh!” he smiles at you, “you’re ms. [y/l/n], right?”

“yes, i am!” you smile back. 

“come in, she got tired and is taking a nap in the living room,” he opens the door, stepping aside to let you walk in, taking in the pastel pink walls and white wicker furniture. “i’m stone, by the way. i’m mary’s son.”

“you’re the one she always talks about!” you brightly smile at him, causing him to blush lightly, sheepishly bowing his head. “she’s really proud of you, you know.” 

“she’s always like that with her children,” stone laughs lightly, scratching the back of his neck. the pale color of his skin complimented his eyes, making them appear brighter in the white light of his mother’s living room. 

“mama?” nina’s soft voice called from the couch. her small fist rubbed roughly against her eyelids, rubbing the sleep out of them as she pushed her upper body up to a sitting position. “hi,” you replied tenderly, making your way to her, her arms stretching out to allow you to pick her up easily. she wraps her arms around your neck and her legs around your waist, burying her head into the side of your neck, sighing gingerly, taking in the scent of the perfume you always wore. you turned back to stone, “is your mom home?” you pulled a small wad of money from your pocket, wanting to pay her for taking care of nina for however long she has been taking care of her for. “i’d like to give her this.” you pushed it towards stone, who gently put his hand over yours, pushing it back towards you.

“my mom won’t take your money,” he smiled delicately. “she understands, don’t worry about it.” 

“but -”

“no buts,” he shook his head, making his way into the kitchen, picking up the platter from the counter. “she also wanted me to give you this, if you came over while she was at her doctor’s appointment.” 

“thank you,” you freed one of your hands from nina, planning to take the glassware from him. 

“no,” he puts it back down on the counter again, hands outstretched to take nina. “i’ll help you take it home.” he smiles softly again. swapping nina for the pie plate, moving towards the door, eyeing nina as she rested her head on stone’s shoulder. her faint snores restarted, causing the man’s heart to slowly turn to mush as he rested his cheek on her head. your heart swelled, opening the door to his mom’s apartment. nina’s estranged father was never in the picture, and seeing a strange man cuddle her softly to his chest as he helped you really brought both sadness and want into your heart. 

you wanted nina to experience what having a father was like, but you barely had time for her, let alone another person. you walk to your apartment in silence, fearful that nina would wake up from her nap if you were too loud for her liking; she was always a light sleeper, something she gained from her dad, who was always sleeping with one eye open. you always wondered why, seeing that the neighborhood the two of you lived in was relatively safe.

most of seattle was. 

taking your key and unlocking your door, you lead stone to nina’s room, the princess themed bedspread thrown haphazardly across her bed, a few barbies and kens laying about the floor in front of her dresser. he gingerly placed her down, unbuckling her jeans and pulling them down her legs before moving the bedspread to cover her up to her chin. you smiled at the sight before going to the kitchen, placing down the pie plate on the counter next to your stove. the sound of heavy steps alerted you of his presence, “i have to go, it’s almost the end of my mom’s appointment and i had to drive her down there.” 

“alright,” you told him. “thank you for helping me with nina, i appreciate it.” 

“no problem, it was a nice break from the music business,” he beams, chuckling a little. “well, hopefully i’ll see you later!” he waves at you before walking away, opening the door to your apartment. 

“hopefully,” you hugged your arms around yourself. 

you had noticed a piece of paper on nina’s nighttable, and upon closer inspection, you noticed that it was stone’s phone number with a messily scrawled, “call me :).” 

you did, the next day, and since then the two of you spoke and laughed at his jokes, him telling you stories of his childhood, his adventures across the world, the stress of being in a famous band. you feared telling him of your financial struggles and the struggle of trying to make enough money to get nina some presents. however, what you did not know, was that mary had told him of your problems and his plan to help you out with it. 

it was the night of christmas eve, and nina had fallen asleep after throwing a small crying fit, wondering how 1. santa was going to be able to come to your home since it was in an apartment building (this was an ongoing thing for the past three years) and 2. why the christmas tree still wasn’t up. “he’s not going to come here if he can’t see the tree!” she cried, letting you hold her close, rubbing the back of her head as you calmed her down.

sitting in your living room with a book on your lap, your heart continued to beat wildly against your chest. you bought her very few things, most of which were small and it would make her a little disappointed, and at the same time break you heart as she would go back to school and talk about how the other kids got bigger and better things. 

a small knock on your door caused you to freeze, eyes wide as you thought of what could happen. a burglar waiting for you to be dumb and open the door? mary coming over to bring some food? all bad thoughts crossed your mind until you heard, “it’s stone!” coming from the outside.

what was stone doing here at. . . you glanced at the clock in the kitchen, 4 in the morning? you put down the book, upside down as to keep your spot, and made your way to the door, still confused at why he was here. you unlocked the door and when you saw the christmas tree box - amongst other things - sitting at his feet, you gasped. “what is this, stone?” 

“it’s for you and nina,” he smiled. “now, come on, it’s cold.” the two of you laughed, taking the time to pick up the boxes and transferring them into the warmth of your apartment, and as each box came in, you noticed that a few were already wrapped and ready to be placed under the christmas tree, one of which was wrapped in a different paper than the others. stone noticed you looking at it. “it’s for you.” 

it took the two of you half an hour to put up the tree and place the presents underneath, and once it was done, you were able to fall asleep peacefully, you and stone passing out on the cushions of your sofa. “mama!” nina’s cries pierced through the thick veils of sleep and woke you and stone up. “santa came!” you peered at her through your eyelashes, seeing her angelic face brighten up as she saw the many presents placed at the bottom of the lit tree. 

“open them,” you insisted, trying to sit up with some difficulty, soon noticing stone’s head resting against your stomach, arms wrapped lazily around your middle. you haven’t seen her this happy, you noted, hand making its way into stone’s hair, gently rubbing his scalp. he hums softly, watching the girl tear through the first box, a high-pitched squeal leaving her lips as she realizes it’s the victorian purple barbie house she’s been pestering you for months and something you complained to stone about. 

“nina,” you caught her attention, “can you give me that box, please? it has my name on it.” you caught the neatly scrawled [y/n] on the top. she snatches up from the floor, running over to you, placing it in your outstretched hand before going back to her own. “what is this, stone?”

“open it,” he nods to it. 

you tear the paper, letting the pieces drop to the floor, seeing a flat velvet box come into view. written on top of it was ‘gucci’. opening it, an aged gold butterfly necklace stares back at you from the confines of the white cardboard interior, and peaking from behind it, a gold-colored debit card sat. “it currently has a few thousand dollars in it,” stone informs you. “and it’s attached to my bank acount, as well, so now you and nina are dependents.”

“stone, i can’t take this,” you begin to protest.

“why not?” he picked himself up from your stomach, glacing at you from above. “it’s my money and i get to choose what i want to do with it. and i want to help you and nina. there’s only one condition.”

“and what’s that?”

taking a short glance towards your daughter, who was too busy tearing open the last few of her presents, he lowers himself against you, face turning towards yours before he presses his lips softly on yours. “just be my girlfriend. that’s all i ask.”

you nod. “always.”

TAGLIST:

@stateofloveandvedder @state-of-love-and-lust @honeysympathy

[stateofloveandnegan]

Sweet - Stone Gossard

Can you write a Stone Gossard one shot? Something really fluffy about how you met and he had a crush on you for a while before asking you out or something but he is super sweet and says the kindest words? I don't know something cute and sweet!! Thanks! 😁

It’s finally up! I totally forgot about this one so I’m sorry about that. Also, I couldn’t really come up with a good end for the story so I hope this is good enough..

Requested by: anon

“Stone, mate, you’re staring again.” Mike mumbles in his ear as his eyes are on me, unbeknownst to me. Stone quickly blinks and moves his gaze away from me. “When are you gonna tell her?”

Stone laughs and shakes his head, “Yeah, that’s never gonna happen, Mike. Forget it.” Mike rolls his eyes and sighs, “Whatever, Stone. Just know that you’re gonna regret it if you don’t act upon your feelings sometime soon.”

I laugh as Eddie tickles my sides, before wrapping his arms around me, “Ed! Ugh, let me go, you stinker!” I giggle and Eddie shakes his head, “Never gonna let you go, little one.”

Eddie and I have been very close, ever since the first day of him being in the band he’s been like a brother to me, nothing else. People always talked about us and how we’d be a cute couple, but for Ed and I it’s just weird to think about it like that. We have talked about it, if we should try dating, but after one date we were both very sure that it was just awkward. And besides that, I’ve had my eyes on someone else for as long as I can remember…

“Go to your man, lovebird.” Eddie mumbles in my ear and I blush, pushing him away from me and mouthing ‘fuck you’ at him, to which he smirks and points at Stone, mouthing ‘fuck him’ back to me.

I roll my eyes, but walk over to Stone and Mike anyway, letting Eddie get back to what he was taking about with Cameron and Jeff. “Hey, Steno,” I smile at him, biting my lip. He turns around and smiles at me, “Hey, beautiful.”

Stone always says the sweetest things to me, probably another reason why I’ve fallen so deeply in love with him. “Always the smooth-talker, hmm?” I smile a little teasingly to hide my blush, and the fact that his words absolutely make my heart skip a beat.

“It just goes naturally when I’m with you.” He winks before walking off to the other guys. I sigh softly, “Why doesn’t he actually like me?”

Mike chuckles and shakes his head, “You have no idea about what’s going on I that head of his, (Y/N), but I can tell you, he’s as stubborn as a donkey.” And Mike walks off as well.

That’s how it always goes… Stone and I flirting here and there, but it never turns into something serious, every time I want to make a comment about it, Stone’s already off to somewhere else and it’s driving me wild.

So, one night, while we’re all in the bar and Stone and I have been flirting for longer than usual, something inside me snaps when he walks off again, this time to greet some sort of girl who gets way too touchy with him. I grab my bag and run off outside, tears already streaming down my face.

The guys call after me and in the corner of my eye, I notice Stone turning into my direction, but I don’t budge and keep walking, trying to hide my face as much as possible. I go to the spot I always go to when I want to be alone, when I want to cry about stuff, the roof of my apartment building.

I sit on the roof, in the corner, where I built a little place for myself, crying and hugging a blanket around myself as I try to come up with excuses as to why I left and trying to think of how I’m ever going to live with the fact that I’ll never get to be with Stone like I’ve always dreamt of being.

After a little while, I’ve calmed down, occasionally letting out soft sniffles, but most of the crying has died down. With a can of coke in my hand, a blanket wrapped around me, I sit on the edge of the building, my legs dangling down. The view before me always seems to calm me down, that’s why I always go here when I’m feeling sad or stressed.

“(Y/N)?” a very soft, familiar voice speaks up. I immediately tense up, biting my lip as I keep gazing at the view. “Stone…”

I can hear him sigh as he walks up to me, sitting down on the edge beside me and I can feel his eyes on me, but I don’t spare him a look.

It takes him a while before he speaks up. “I’m an idiot, (Y/N). I’m an idiot for never realising that your flirting with me was because you had genuine feelings for me.” He speaks in a guilty voice.

I bite my lip even harder to keep the tears at bay, not wanting to cry anymore. “I always cut you off, because I thought it was just joking around. I cut it off, because I wasn’t able to continue, thinking it wasn’t serious.”

My brows furrow in confusion at his words, and for the first time, I turn my head to look at him, unshed tears in my eyes. Stone meets my eyes and I can see the guilt on his face for making me cry. “W-What do you mean?” I speak in a quiet, hoarse voice.

“I’m madly in love with you, (Y/N). And I have been for so long… Mike always told me to make a move, but I was so scared. And I know you and Ed are like family, but I couldn’t help myself that, when every time I saw you two so close, I thought there was more that you guys weren’t telling us.”

I look at him in disbelief, not believing his words, and open my mouth multiple times, but nothing comes out. Stone looks away, sighing and mumbling, “I shouldn’t have believed Mike when he said you felt the same.” He moves to get up and speaks louder, “Forget I said anything.” and starts walking away.

For a second, I’m frozen on the spot, not knowing what to do or what to say, but soon enough I regain sense and jump up, accidentally pushing the can of coke off the edge, down the building. I hurriedly walk after Stone, catching his wrist in my hand and pulling him to me before planting my lips onto his when our faces are close enough.

I can feel Stone freezing under the sudden feeling of my lips on his, but very soon he gathers himself and kisses me back, his hands coming to rest on my hips as our lips move in sync. Everything around us seems to fade and nothing else matters in this moment, just Stone and I, holding each other, kissing each other.

After what feels like hours, but seconds at the same time, I pull back, needing air to breathe. Stone and I stand there, foreheads resting against each other’s as we catch our breath. My eyes are still closed, but after a minute I finally dare to open them and I’m immediately met with Stone’s.

As soon as I notice Stone opening his mouth to say something, I speak up and beat him to it. “I do love you, Stone. So fucking much, it killed me to see you so close to that girl earlier.”

“She means nothing to me… I met her once and I just wanted distraction from you, because until then, I thought you could never be into me, let alone love me…” He admits with a sheepish smile on his face.

I smile at him and bring my hand up to his face, my thumb brushing over his cheek. “Well, you were wrong, Steno… I do love you, very much so.”

Stone chuckles and leans in for another kiss, this one much softer, but still just as meaningful. When we break apart, Stone takes my hand in his and walks me back to the edge of the roof, sitting down with me and grabbing the blanket before draping it over both our shoulders.

I look at him with love in my eyes and he returns the look easily, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me a little closer into his side, pressing a soft kiss to my temple. “I’m never gonna back down with the flirting now, do know that…”

[groupieimagines]

Blonde- Stone Gossard Imagine

Me and my boyfriend had dumb ideas... But this one... Was by far...the stupidest one, yet here we where buying bleach.

*Earlier that day*

- babeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. My boyfriend Stone whined "I'm bored pay attention to me"

"I swear you're more needy than me" I told him

"And proudly" he smirked.

"I'm bored let's do something" he said.

"Like what?" I asked him curiously raising my eyebrow eager to know what idiotic idea he came up with next, one of his many ideas was to dye my hair blue, I must admit that was not the dumbest idea, it's been three years and here I am with blue hair and loving it.

"Bleach my hair" he said casually, making me choke on my own saliva. I looked at him dumbfounded.

"You want me to WHAT?" I asked a little too loud making our cat who was sleeping next to us on the couch jump and run away, to which stone laughed loudly now scaring me.

"You heard me" he said inbetween laughs "bleach my hair, I've always wanted blonde hair" I thought about it for a second and it made me weak in the knees.

"Alriiiiiiiiiight let's go buy the bleach"

And that,,, brings us here, two grunge looking adults giggling like maniacs infront of the nearest Walmart we could find.

We walked in and immediately walked to the hair section. "Oh fuck" he said "there are too many here" he cried out

"Well babe you wanted this" I told him shrugging, grabbing everything we needed and grabbing some blue dye for me because my hair was a hot mess, just like the stupid weather.

We paid for everything and started heading home, "why did you pick the hottest day of the year to dye your hair and make us walk all the way over here"

"Well it's hot but I can't complain, you look damn hot in shorts" he said laughing slapping my butt as I slap his shoulder.

"Dude some decency please, we're in public"

"Excuse me for saying the truth" he sticked his tongue out at me and I did the same.

After a really really hot twenty minute walk we finally made it to our shitty small apartment we happily called home.

"Let's do this, go change into a dirty shirt I'll go set this up in the bathroom" he listened to me and went to our bedroom to change, meanwhile I set all the shit up in the bathroom knowing it was gonna end up being a mess I took extra precautions. I suddenly felt a pair of skinny arms wrapped around my waist and a kiss on my cheek making me blush.

"sitttttttttt let me start" I said

He took a sit in a chair I had placed infront of the mirror as I started mixing the bleach and started putting it on his short brown hair, he suddenly jumped scaring me

"Sorry it's very cold" he told me looking at me through the mirror

"It's okay I blushed"

Fifteen minutes later I was done adding the bleach and I started preparing the dye for my hair while Stone waited for the bleach to set.

I finished doing my hair and we waited together untill we could wash the gooey stuff out of our hair. While we waited we talked about everything, he was so excited because his album had just reached number one in the States and I was so proud of him. We chatted for another ten minutes when he told me his head was itching a lot so we decided to hop in the shower together washing the stuff out of our heads. We stepped out of the shower and I looked at him swooning

"You look so good babe" I said with heart eyes

"You look amazing too" he said blushing and kissing my shoulder softly. After our reveal we dried up and got dressed

"What do you say we go show this to the boys"

"OH YESSS" I exclaimed happily

Let's just say the boys where shocked to say the least.

[jaggersgroupie]

i dreamed that eddie vedder was making waffles in my kitchen.

[callme2heaven]

Unannounced

A/N: This is my first one shot with Stone and I just started typing. I hope it turned out okay!

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Word Count: 1,479

Warnings: Andrew Wood's death is mentioned

Two raindrops raced each other down the window. The rain reminds me that I’m almost home, somewhere I haven’t been in years, Seattle. 

The chatter in the Greyhound broke my concentration. I looked around curiously. Loads of people, either returning to the rainy city, or venturing into the unknown. 

I happen to be doing both. 

The bus pulled into the station and my tummy twisted in knots. I began having second thoughts. I was showing up unannounced after years of little to no contact. 

I grabbed my luggage from the storage under the bus and meandered off to find a taxi. 

I rattled off the address to my best friend's house and hoped for the best. 

The scenery around was exactly as I remembered and yet so different. Maybe it was just me, I’d grown used to the desert in Eastern Washington. 

The cabbie pulled over and I realized there was no turning back. I mean I still could, but I’d feel real shitty about it. I paid the man and got out with my stuff. 

I made the daunting walk up to the door, my heart raced and I knocked three times. I wanted to turn away and run. 

It wasn’t fair of me. My grandma was sick and so I moved across the state to take care of her. A coincidence that everything at the time was falling apart so I was looking for an escape was just happenstance. 

The door cracked open and it was like all the air was sucked out of my lungs. 

Stone Gossard, his hair was longer now. His hazel eyes widened. We stared at one another. I was shocked when he reached out and brought me into a tight hug. I hugged him back and breathed him in. 

Stone held me at arms length and studied me. 

“What are you doing in Seattle? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” He asked. I shrugged. 

“It just felt like time to come home.” I answered. Stone smiled softly at me. “I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me unless I just showed up. Flawed I know.” I rambled and Stone’s smile faltered. 

“Look, I know things weren’t great and we didn’t really communicate well while you were in Pasco, but I’ll always want you around. You’re my best friend, even when we’re mad at each other. Okay?” Stone said sternly. I studied his face and nodded. “Have you got a place to stay?” 

“No, I just got to town. I really didn’t have a game plan.” I responded. Stone chuckled. 

“Glad to know you’re still the impulsive girl I always knew.” He grinned. 

“Impulsive?” I asked, eyes widening. Stone gave me a look and I looked away. “Okay, yeah, I’m impulsive.” I admitted. 

“You can stay with me.” Stone said. 

“Are you sure?” I asked, looking back to him. 

“You’re always welcome in my home.” He said, and stepped back, opening the door wider for me to enter. It smelled woodsy, as I remembered, comforting. 

“I’ll take that.” He said and took my luggage disappearing further into the house. I took off my shoes and hung up my jacket. 

I moseyed into the living room. I studied the photos, there were some with the Mother Love Bone line up. I smiled seeing Andy. There were some with other groups, and what I assumed is the Pearl Jam lineup. I didn’t meet the shy front man before I left, but he’s got an incredible voice. Then I saw some sprinkled with me in there, in almost all of them Stone and I are next to each other. My favorite is just the two of us, I can’t remember what he said anymore but the photo caught me mid cackle as he smirked triumphantly at me. 

“Are you hungry?” Stone asked entering the room. I turned to him and my tummy gurgled at that exact moment. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He replied and turned to go to the kitchen, I followed him. 

I pulled out two plates while he pulled stuff to make sandwiches out of the fridge. We made our sandwiches in a comfortable silence before sitting at the table. 

“Thanks for taking me in and feeding me.” I said, truly thankful he didn’t send me away. 

“I think you think that I’m upset with you, but I’m not.” Stone said and bit into his sandwich. My eyebrows furrowed. 

“What?” 

“Eat.” Stone said not elaborating. 

I took a bite of my sandwich, and munched on some chips. 

“How was Pasco?” He asked, changing the subject. 

“Way different. It was good to be with Nan and help her out.” I responded. 

“How is she?” Stone asked, then took a sip of his drink. 

“She passed away 5 months ago.” I answered, and took a sip of my own drink. 

“I’m sorry, I know she was important to you. She lasted a lot longer than the doctors said she would.” He replied. 

“Yeah, you knew Nan, she was a fighter up until the end.” I said, “I’ve heard your new band on the radio by the way. I really like it, your new singer has an incredible set of pipes.” 

“Yeah, he’s a cool guy.” Stone said. 

We chatted comfortably as we ate, the more we talked the easier it was. Like no time had passed. 

Stone and I washed up the plates and utensils. 

“Do you mind if I take a shower?” I asked. 

“No, make yourself at home. I have band practice but I’ll be back later tonight.” Stone replied. 

“Okay, have fun.” I waved him off. 

The water cascaded down my body and my mind kept replaying what Stone said earlier. That I think he’s upset with me but he’s not. I mean he isn’t wrong, I was fully expecting him to take one look at me and tell me to leave. That’s not his true character though. Ever since I’ve known Stone, he has always been so kind and dependable. 

After letting my brain spiral I got out and dried off putting on a comfortable oversized shirt and a pair of shorts. The exhaustion of the traveling and emotional turmoil caught up with me and I found myself crawling into Stone’s bed not even thinking about it. 

I felt the bed sink down and the covers move around. My eyes fluttered open and I watched as Stone settled in facing me. Our eyes met. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” He whispered. We were close enough I could feel his breath when he spoke. 

“It’s okay, sorry I fell asleep on your bed, I can go to the couch.” I said and started to get up. Stone reached out and stopped me. 

“We’ve shared a bed before, no need to leave.” Stone said. I settled back down and we stared at one another. 

“What did you mean earlier?” I asked softly. 

“I’m not upset with you is all.” He stated. 

“Why? I would be.” I replied. Stone rolled his eyes. 

“I was hurt at first. You left, and you didn’t say anything. The two times we talked on the phone it was short and dry. At the end of the day, I just wanted my best friend around, ya know? Andy died, and the person I wanted to find comfort in was you. We started a new band and the first person I wanted to tell about it was you. You’ve always been the most important person to me and more than anything, I just fucking missed you.” Stone said. Tears filled my eyes. 

“I missed you too.” I said as my voice cracked. 

“Don’t ever leave like that again, okay?” Stone whispered as he brushed my hair from my face. 

“Promise.” I said holding out my pinky. Stone smiled softly and wrapped his pinky around mine. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me.” I said. 

“You’re here now.” He replied. “Jeff and the others are excited to see you by the way. Are you up to seeing them tomorrow?” Stone asked. 

“Yeah, I am. I’m excited to see them too.” I smiled. 

“Good, I had to stop Jeff from coming over tonight. But he can only be stalled for so long.” He said and I laughed. 

“So is anybody mad?” I asked, knowing it wasn’t just Stone I left behind in Seattle. 

“No, I mean not really. Jeff might squeeze you to death and then sternly tell you that leaving like that was really shitty.” He replied. 

“Totally fair.” I laughed. 

The conversation lulled and I felt myself drifting off again, when Stone spoke up. 

“I’m glad you came back.” 

“Me too.” I responded sleepily. 

I felt Stone’s lips brush up against my forehead before I fell asleep. 

Stone was right, I’m here now. And I’m never leaving his side again. 

Thanks for reading! Feel free to chat :)

[tryskomys]

Wet Sand

Stone Gossard x OC

Chapter 4 - Watermelon In Easter Hay

Summary: you get me. that’s why.

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

notes: chapter foooour! disclaimer: this one is quite tough, so be careful about the tw’s and look out for each other, guys <3 tough times always end and we come out the other way stronger than ever before.

tw: a lot of hurt. mentions of the thing that rhymes with kegs, brief mentions of drug abuse, addiction, brief hint at s*1c1de, description of panic attacks/trauma dissociation. comfort.

i promise that the next one will be so agressively fluffy you’ll drown in it.

songs:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

Somehow, time suddenly started to pass quicker than usual, especially in the context of prolonged winter nights.

The number of oat milk lattes pressed was slowly rising into the low hundreds over the next three weeks, the lunch feasts weren’t as flashy as the first time - it was more of a lunch snack split between three people.

But Kiki didn’t mind.

I could get used to this.

The mantra played on a loop in her head when she got up each morning, the entire bike ride to the parking lot, the whole walk from there to the café.

She was so excited about getting used to this that despite her crippling insomnia, she began to arrive to work about half an hour before Jeff, who was a self-proclaimed morning bird.

She just couldn’t wait.

To get there and wipe the tables. To scribble the dailies on the menu blackboard. To hear Jeff’s adorable righteous fury when he started yapping about yesterday’s ball game - in fact, she was looking forward to learning all the details.

Most of all, though, to catch a flash of wild ruddy hair through the window and hear a knock on the door. See Stone shaking a paper bag in the air with a wide smile as she let him in, receiving a delightfully warm croissant and an even warmer hug.

“That, sir, is illegal. Do the higher-ups know that you’re nicking under their noses every day?”

“You said I’m a punk, I gotta protect my reputation.”

Still, the Christmas holidays couldn’t come fast enough. So, right after her last shift of the year, Kiki beelined to the laundromat to pick up her clothes as quickly as she could.

She stuffed the few pieces she had into her backpack and headed straight home. She was already running late to a meet-up with Stone back at Pioneer Square. It was the day of a long awaited holiday night-out.

When she got back to her apartment, she grinned as she rummaged a t-shirt out of the bag. It had a big Nets logo on the front. Jeff brought it to her yesterday, it still had a pleasant soapy scent.

“Don’t worry, it’s fresh from the laundry basket. It’s a bit big but it’ll do. Now that you’re starting to warm up to it, I have to sway you to the right team.”

“Jesus, Ames, you’re tasteless. Always with the propaganda. Let her form her own opinion.”

“You’re just mad that you didn’t get one.”

Kiki was giddy when she caught herself calling the unlikely duo ‘friends’ in her head.

I could get used to this.

She was whistling an Aerosmith song - another consequence of daily hanging out with Jeff - while she cuffed the baggy sleeves of her newly acquired NBA apparel.

Tightening the shoelaces of her combat boots, she softly cursed when she bent down - she felt a stab in her stomach. No lunch today.

It was the beginning of a holiday break, meaning all money goes to cheap beer and 3 a.m. Doghouse fries to-go.

And the rent was due.

No, asking him for another help-out isn’t an option. Not again. You won’t die if you only eat once a day for a week.

And besides, she was planning to return everyone’s hospitality by buying at least one round tonight.

The two of them had a rendezvous at the Off Ramp with Chris, Jeff and a couple of guys. A cherub-looking jester called Andy, who occasionally washed the dishes at the café, and Stone and Jeff’s sweet gangly bandmate, Bruce.

One thing she’d learned over her multiple visits to the Off Ramp - it was probably the worst excuse for a bar she’d ever seen.

The upside was that the music was impeccable and the alcohol was ID-free.

That was about it.

First of all, it was Stone’s money laundering headquarters. He lured in unassuming patrons to make bizarre bets with him while knowing the payoff like the back of his hand.

His favourite was guessing how many dead cockroaches there were next to the vodka shelf - it was usually between five and eight.

One of the most successful schemes so far was when he got a group of French girls to each bet a shot that Matt from Soundgarden would break a stick within the first song.

He broke two in the first thirty seconds.

Stone won four shots and Kiki mocked him for missing out on an ‘authentic French kiss’ when he turned his cheek as one of the girls went in for a passionate bonus prize.

Plus, only she knew that he’d sneaked backstage before the show to file a weak spot in four of Matt’s flimsy drumsticks - she was the one guarding the back room so no one would walk in on him.

Jeff, meanwhile, was an angel. Carefully watching everyone’s drinks so they wouldn’t get spiked, something that was sadly a common occurrence in the sweaty dim hell hole. Always ready to light anyone’s stick of choice. Rocking out to every song with identical enthusiasm, even if he’d heard it thirty times over.

But even the most joyous of companies couldn’t deny the fact that a certain degree of thick skin was needed to snake through the narrow corridors.

All the vomit stains and broken bottles on the carpeted floors sometimes called for nearly athletic skills.

There seemed to be a different kind of bodily fluid for every inch of the dancefloor. On top of that, it was all lousily enlightened by a disco ball that was threatening to fall apart at any moment.

If you wandered too close to the supposed kitchen, the stench was so pungent it must’ve caused at least one nosebleed over the years in service.

The women’s restrooms were desolate. There was more piss on the floor than in the actual toilet bowls, powder sprinkles of questionable origin were scattered around the sinks and the mirrors were broken, barely functional and always covered in lipstick stains and sweaty handprints.

And the guys that had - for obvious reasons - visited both, swore that the men’s room was far, far worse.

In other bars around Seattle, it wouldn’t be shocking to accidentally stumble upon some couple enjoying their date in a bathroom stall. Here, it was less common.

You were more likely to bump into them right in front of the restrooms, blocking the way in.

To spend a night out at the Ramp was a truly authentic pagan experience.

I could get used to this.

Kiki opted for leaving her bike at home and took in a deep breath of the frosty air as she strolled through the busy streets of Chinatown.

The sun was long gone and a fog settled over the roads, so she clutched her crochet bag closer and tried to warm up by folding her arms.

Andy, who was fronting another domestic band, had an enchanting voice and Bruce was already a solid third cog in a well-synergized string faction of Green River.

So the five of them were planning to jam as soon as possible.

But something always came up. Christmas was around the corner and everybody took more shifts at work to afford the luxuries of holidays.

That was twice as true for musicians - none of them simply had time to focus on music, hence her lack of session gigs. Her excitement was immeasurable, though.

To play with like-minded people, finally able to express herself however she wanted.

Unable to sustain a minute of peace, though, her brain always came up with pointless arguments.

Can I express myself, though? ‘Myself’ is not nearly good enough to keep up with them.

With him.

I wonder how he feels music. Does he hunch? Bop his head? Jump around or just sway?

Are his eyes closed? He seems like someone who would mouth along with his riffs. Nerd.

Can't really imagine how he touches the strings, though. Maybe he does a lot of slides.

Heavy and slow. Teasing.

That sounds like him.

“Look what the cat dragged in. Baby, do you own a watch? I’ve been waiting here for like fifteen minutes,” Stone muttered through chattering teeth when she finally arrived at their meeting spot, startling her out of her thoughts. “I’m pretty sure this is frozen solid, along with my balls.”

Kiki already recognized the paper bag he was clutching.

Her eyebrows knitted in confusion when he waved his wrist in front of her face to show her the time and then gave her a bone-crushing hug.

“God dammit, I forgot to wind it. Sorry,” she mumbled into his chest, a flaming blush prickling her icy ears.

The scent of fresh pastries and cinnamon still lingered on his sweatshirt.

“What’s the ruckus?” she let him go and immediately checked her watch to twist the little winding wheel.

“Huh? Oh, I was running late in the morning so I couldn’t stop by. I grabbed it on my way home at least, don’t wanna lose my stealing streak,” he shrugged as she took the bag from him and they both set off.

“Ah, you’re a saint, Stoney. I’m so hungry I could eat a fucking horse,” she breathed out puffs of fog.

“Ames and I were wondering where you got lost. Thought you had slipped on ice and fallen into a ditch,” she huffed. She struggled to keep up with his brisk tempo and munch on her cold cinnamon roll at the same time. “I had a cake in mind, you know, to bring to the hospital.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmpf. All pink with big chocolate letters on top,” she mumbled through a mouthful of food, waving her hand in the air to mime handwriting. “'Good riddance.'”

He scoffed, reluctantly chomping down when she offered him a bite.

“Slow down or you’ll choke. I don’t wanna spend the night with my hand down your throat,” he chuckled, slightly concerned by the sheer speed of her eating.

“You said you had a first-aid course, no? Time to put your money where your mouth is,” she muttered again and gulped down the last bite.

The Ramp was packed to the brim, but it wasn’t hard to find the colourful cast of friends, even in the dim orange light.

Chris and Bruce towered over the sea of people like long-haired maypoles, passing a joint to Jeff. He was wearing a bright purple hat with an orange bow - an extravagant wizard. And as they got closer, Andy, who was a lot shorter than the three of them, surprisingly stood out even more. Unmistakable with his furry white coat and bright red lipstick.

Stone, in his kaleidoscope vest, was holding her hand so he wouldn’t lose her in the crowd. Her fingers were still cold as ice, but somehow they warmed him down to the marrow of his bones.

Unbeknownst to her, his mind worked in similar patterns to hers.

I could get used to this.

● ● ● ● ● ●

“…they’ve been away for a month, so, obviously, I was salivating for all the details, shivering like a fucking Chihuahua. And then he just stepped out of his ugly station wagon, stinking like rotten eggs and with a bloody scratch on his cheek, like, this big,” Andy colourfully explained, raised his little finger to illustrate and continued.

“Gave me that fucking blank stare of his and asked me if I knew that Crüe dumped Nikki Sixx in a dumpster last week.”

Kiki rolled her eyes and puffed out a laugh. Somehow, her conversation with Andy derailed to the story of Green River’s disasterous DIY tour.

“Jeez…what a sweet talker,” she scoffed, her grin growing wider when Andy’s baby blue eyes popped open as he vehemently nodded.

“And I was like…no?” he raised his knitted eyebrows and shook his head. “And he shrugged and went: ‘Well, Crüe dumped Nikki Sixx in a dumpster last week.’ And didn’t say a word for the rest of the day.”

“Pfft, he just wanted to be mysterious,” Kiki snorted, taking a swig of her beer.

There seemed to be a pattern, though.

Observing him for the past month, she’d noticed that Stone sometimes switched into a completely different person. Especially when getting into specific topics.

Usually hard drugs, relationships and politics.

The sarcasm suddenly became borderline cruel, not playful. And his cool punky attitude felt stoic and alien.

“Had to question Ames afterwards, because Stoney just. wouldn’t. talk. about it. He just does that sometimes. Nomen est omen, I guess,” Andy chuckled, confirming her suspicion.

“Unresolved childhood trauma, maybe?” she shrugged and took a swig of her beer.

I recognize that one from a mile away.

“Nah, the Gossards are the sweetest sweethearts of all the sweethearts ever,” Andy shook his head. His chubby cheeks were flushed from the shots of tequila Stone had been supplying all night.

A bunch of tourists were in the house, which meant a fruitful playground.

“I think he was just born that way.”

“Heartless?” Kiki scoffed, her smile widening when she caught Stone giving her subtle thumbs up from the bar.

The bartender was already pouring another round. Stone grinned when she returned the gesture and then started wiping off a lipstick stain on his cheek with a slightly disgusted expression. Andy smirked.

“Composed,” he shrugged.

“Weeeell, a little detached.”

“…practical,” he added, biting his cheek to contain laughter. Kiki squinted at him and shook her head.

“Yeah, bullshit. I still smell trauma,” she mumbled, gulping down another sip.

A question was playing around her head for some time. And now seemed to be the perfect moment to ask.

Because if Stone was the resourceful little shit of the group, Andy was the all-knowing chatterbox.

“Did that guy ever manage to keep a girlfriend?”

“Yeah, once,” Andy replied, playing around with the squeezed slice of lime in his empty shot glass.

“There we fucking go! The enigma of Stone Gossard solved! Good job, my dear Watson,” Kiki slapped her thighs, raising her bottle to clink Andy’s empty glass. He giggled like a child. Different people had different reactions to her dry English attitude.

Jeff seemed to have an open mind despite clearly not getting it.

Chris usually gave her disarming smiles, probably taking it for a cute younger-sister quirk.

Stone was…well, Stone about it. Never missing a beat to shoot back at her like he had been deprived of an arguing partner for his whole life.

And Andy always rewarded her with the most angelic giggles she’d ever heard.

“…well? Spill the beans!” Kiki nudged him, leaning a bit closer on the bar table. Andy dismissively waved her off.

“Oh, I don’t like to gossip…” he nonchalantly shook his head.

They stared at each other with wide eyes before bursting into wild cackles, getting a few confused looks from people around them.

When Andy was done with his adorable snorts, he cleared his throat.

“Okay, so, way back in…’84 methinks. Her name was Tara, she was from Utah or Alabama or…whatever, who gives a shit. Anyway, very religious family, Mormons I think, you know how they do it down there,” he theatrically shivered with disgust and continued.

“However. Stoney’s brash mouth could seduce a fucking saint. I’ve heard it rumoured that she screamed for Jesus the first time he -“

“Woah, okay, okay, no, thanks. I get it, please spare me,” she scowled and plugged her ears.

She hoped that Andy wouldn’t notice the raging blush that rapidly filled her entire face, but he was very hard to fool.

“I know you wanna hear all of it -” he smirked, “- but very well. Anyway, he was completely smitten. Treated her so right, didn’t give her any of that shithead attitude.”

That sounds terrifying.

“All of a sudden like a lamb. It was terrifying.”

“Bet,” Kiki snorted and bit into the rim of her bottle to tame the growing smirk on her face. “And how was she?”

“Apparently, not bad,” he mused, giggling again when her eyes widened and she threateningly lunged forward.

“Sorry, sorry,” he raised his arm in defence and took a few seconds to compose himself. “Well, once he helped her out of her redneck shell, she was, uh, how do I put it…”

“A cool girl?” Kiki shrugged and took a swig.

“An insufferable bitch,” he deadpanned and the beer flew out of her nose. He gave her some time to wipe her mouth and continued in a slightly sombre tone.

“She cheated a whole lot, probably wanted to try out as much as she could, now that she’d realized that God can’t make her cum,” he explained, making her snort again.

Fucking hell. This clown. I love him.

The way the story was going, though, her enjoyment slowly faded.

“You know that he’s a tease. And sometimes girls mistake his sarcasm for flirting.”

Yeah, tell me about it.

"So she used to make out with people right in front of him just to make him jealous,” Andy scowled and she mirrored his expression.

“Oof. How long did that go on?” Kiki asked, not even sure if she wanted to hear the rest of the story.

Her gaze trailed off to Stone’s grin as he was handing a shot to Bruce a few feet away from them. Now, there was something behind his smile that she hadn’t noticed before.

“About a year and a half or something, on and off,” Andy’s voice snapped her back to the conversation. “Then she broke up with him and went back home. I bet she married her cousin or something.”

Kiki scoffed and shook her head. She wasn’t sure how to comment on it, so she let Andy finish his story, even though she regretted even asking for it.

“He was devastated after all that, barely talked for weeks. I think he secretly used to be a romantic, but she kinda sobered him up from that whole ‘soulmate’ thing. I don’t think he’s dated anyone else since,” he ended with a shrug, mindlessly biting into the lime he fished out of the shot glass.

It seemed like he was trying to lighten the mood, his face twisting into a scrunched grimace.

“A Greek tragedy, really,” she followed his suit, letting out a bleak chuckle.

Andy waved his hand and swallowed a few times to push the sourness down before continuing in a slightly slurry voice.

“No, seriously. It kinda makes me sad. Actually, I think I haven’t seen him kiss a girl since then, you know?”

And you dare to laugh at me, beanpole?

“Yeah, he flirts and sleeps around, but he never kisses anyone on the lips,” Andy added, shrugging. “Maybe it’s some kind of a self-defence mechanism, I don’t know. I have no idea what’s going on behind that huge forehead of his.”

Oh.

“Like, he enjoys the one-night-stand-thrill or whatever but also doesn’t like it when girls touch him. And I mean touch as in this -” he reached out, patted Kiki’s shoulder and then rubbed her back. “-right?”

…yeah. But…

“Cringes at hugs and stuff, but once he’s enough inches away and certain that they're into it, he doesn’t have a problem with straight up telling them he wants to fuck their brains out,” Andy shook his head. “And somehow, it works. Sometimes I wonder if he’s even from the same planet.”

“I mean, that makes two of us, the hugging thing. But he does it whenever we meet anyway, so there’s a scoop for you,” Kiki tried to sound as careless as possible, kicking back the rest of her beer in one swell swoop.

“It’s different with you, you’re like his little Pooky bear,” Andy smirked, lacing his fingers under his chin. She snorted and raised her eyebrows.

“A what?”

“Pooky. You know Garfield, right? The comics?”

When Kiki shook her head with a curious smile, Andy gasped.

“What?! Sarcastic little shit of a cat who hates everyone but his teddy bear Pooky? And Pooky always pretends that he’s just a toy and then suddenly moves and rearranges stuff just to fuck with Garfield’s head?” he babbled, wildly gesturing.

“That sounds deranged. I love it,” she giggled, still unconvinced about the metaphor.

“Oh man, I grew up on that. I still have a stack of ‘em at home, I’ll borrow you some!” he enthusiastically grabbed her hand. “Then you’ll see why you’re Pooky.”

“I’d love that. And I truly admire that you make everything sound like a compliment,” Kiki grinned.

“It is,” Andy shot back, raising his eyebrows with a smirk. She scoffed.

“Pretty sure that just means he doesn’t view me as a potential fuck.”

He squinted and tipped his head to the side like a puppy.

“Yeeeeah, I wouldn’t exactly say that.”

“Just between us,” she interrupted him, “I’d admit that it hurts my ego, but I’m too vain. Guess I’m not his type.”

“Does he have a type? I haven’t noticed, maybe I’ve been around him for too long,” he chuckled, taking another pointless bite of the lime as if he was trying to suck out the last drops of tequila.

“Well, from what I’ve seen, they’re usually tall, sporty and sweet,” she counted on her fingers and then shrugged. “Then again, who’s type isn’t tall, sporty and sweet?”

Andy's toothy grin widened.

“Seems like your type is lanky, malnourished and sardonic.”

No.

“Yeah, no. I don’t - nope. Let’s cut this conversation before it starts, please,” she wiggled her finger at him, eyebrows knitted. His smile got even brighter.

“Why not, Pooky?” he pressed, grabbing her hand again. “You’re the only person I know who clicked with him without wanting to knock his teeth out first. And he’s into it.”

It sounds so easy when you say it.

“Because I don’t want to. And neither does he. I’m certain that we both like it just the way it is, trust me.”

Shit, he doesn’t trust me.

“You think I don’t know that you’re fucking on the side?” he exclaimed so loud Kiki had to bang her forehead against the bar table to hide her face from the people turning their heads.

“Jesus Christ, Andy! You’re disgusting,” she hissed when looked up, scowling.

His smile was omnipresent, though.

If Stone was the Roman statue, Andy was the Harlequin.

“Well, are you?”

“NO!”

“Not yet, you mean,” he raised his eyebrows, trying to contain another brewing giggle.

“Not yet, not tomorrow, not ever. Okay? I’m done with this topic, you clown, let’s move on,” Kiki reached out and softly pushed him.

Andy didn’t seem too keen on moving on, though, as his shoulders shook with a cackle.

“Have you ever stopped to think why he stares at your lips when you’re babbling? ‘Cause I have, Pooky,” he raised his index finger and tapped on her forehead to make the wrinkles between her eyebrows disappear.

All the other guys were on their way back to them, their laughs nearing Kiki’s ears as Andy whispered with a sly grin.

“It’s because you’re not his type.”

● ● ● ● ● ●

“I think I need a shot of bleach,” Kiki’s raspy voice appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

She left the group to get a beer, but before she could push her way back through the crowd, everyone except Stone had already scattered around the bar again.

He was startled when she walked straight up to him and slammed her forehead against his chest.

Unprovoked touching? This is new. I could get used to this.

“What’s up?” Stone chuckled, hoping that the sound of his heartbeat would get drowned in the loud buzz around them.

Kiki just slammed her head into his ribcage again and took a moment to shiver off some sort of disgust.

She raised her hand without a word and stuck a jumbo shot of vodka in his face. Snickering, he reluctantly took it and she finally looked up.

Her fae-like features were twisted in a comical grimace, mixing both amusement and repulsion.

“I just walked past Mike from Alice. Nailing a chick, that blonde exchange student -“

“Shocking! Your first time seeing a cock?” he interrupted with a brash grin, but his expression froze when she finished her sentence.

“- against the kitchen door.”

“Wh-what?! The kitchen?” he stuttered out, slowly breaking into a scowl identical to hers. Kiki vehemently nodded.

“Fuck. That’s rancid,” Stone choked out and fiercely kicked back the vodka. His nose wrinkled in a signature scrunch.

“I was trying to run past it as fast as I could, but I was so perplexed by them that I stopped by and kinda gave him a -“

She took a step back from Stone and demonstrated her best judgemental glare, raising her eyebrows as far as they could go.

“And I shit you not, he stared me dead in the eye for like ten seconds and then just turned around -” she mimed holding someone’s ass in her arms and spun around, “- and continued like I wasn’t there.”

Stone’s cheeks puffed with a laugh and he nonchalantly shook his head, but his ears started to burn red because of her vivid description. And he couldn’t stop his intoxicated mind from wandering.

Get it together, asshole. Not her. She made that very clear.

“I mean, maybe he wanted to give her a proper Ramp experience...” he shrugged, trying to focus on anything else than the glistening sweat on her flushed cheeks.

Kiki scoffed and took a swig of her beer before folding her arms.

“Yeah, but the kitchen?! I mean, you wouldn’t do that. You’re an A-grade slut, but at least you’re a gentleman, too.”

Just let her have the last word. It’s so easy. For once in your life, just shut the fu-

“Depends on the company. You, I’d even take inside the kitchen if I had to.”

But instead of scolding himself, Stone’s mind filled up with confidence as the vodka spilt through his brain cells and his lips curled into a triumphant smirk.

Stop lying to yourself, Gossard. Don’t act like you don’t get off on this shit.

Kiki raised an eyebrow and seemed to genuinely ponder if he was being serious, but she quickly brushed off her momentary lapse of judgement with a sharp scoff.

“Fine, from now on I officially don’t believe anything that comes out of this filthy cakehole,” she shook her head and reached up to poke his mouth.

Surprised by her own audacity, she tapped her finger on the small dimple in the middle of his bottom lip. “Don’t slip on the cum-stained floor when you go wash it out with soap.”

She held it there, basking in the crackling sensation that pulsed from his soft skin through her calloused fingertip.

When Stone took a tiny step back, darting across her face with an unreadable expression, she froze. Her hand hung in the air as his eyebrows twitched into a minuscule frown.

After a moment far too long for her comfort, she jumped when he lunged forward and bit her finger, cursing under her breath.

He was cackling as he ruffled her hair, Kiki slapped his hand away and rubbed on the bite mark on her knuckle.

Even though Stone’s shoulders were shaking with giggles, there was a clear shift in his demeanour. He firmly folded his arms and took another step back, clearing his throat.

He knew she’d noticed.

Yeah, right, big guy. So much for ‘put my money where my mouth is’. Idiot.

“Fuck, great, now I have rabies,” Kiki muttered, studying her finger in the dim light as she gave him a side-eye, trying to hide a smirk.

Stone chuckled and scratched his forehead.

What the fuck is wrong with you, dude? A girl has touched you before. A lot of them did. She’s just another one. Just a girl. Just…

“What’s wrong? Am I foaming at the mouth already?” Kiki gasped, staring him down with a quizzical brow.

Why does she...strange. So, so strange.

All he managed to do was shake his head and try to put on an unbothered grin.

Snap out of it, you dumb fuck.

“Cat got your tongue?” she quipped, scoffing when he didn’t answer.

“Silent treatment, that’s new. And weird. I already miss your yapping,” Kiki shook her head and watched Stone’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He took a breath to speak, swiftly easing back into his smart-ass mode.

“Woah, woah, okay. Spoke too soon. Tell you what, I’ll go powder my nose and in the meantime, you can try to think of something funny to say,” she handed him her beer and patted his warm cheek. “You can do it, pretty boy, I believe in you.”

And with that, she disappeared, the crowd swallowing her small stature like an ocean wave. Stone luckily found an empty spot in the hoard of people next to the wall.

He leaned on it and banged his head against the uneven bricks.

You’re in deep shit, friend.

● ● ● ● ● ●

Five minutes passed. Then ten. After twenty, Stone’s impatient foot tapping caused a cramp to shoot through his calf, so he cursed and kicked the air a few times to shake it off.

Jesus, did she get flushed down the drain?

He wasn’t paying any attention to the shaggy-haired surfer dude in front of him. Stone somehow found himself in a conversation with him - he just appeared out of nowhere and started yapping on and on about how the bars are worse around Sunset Boulevard.

Ever the businessman, Stone took the opportunity to bet a shot that they would see at least a trio of cockroaches throughout the night.

Of course, he knew that even three was an outstandingly small number.

I’ll go check on her.

He excused himself and assured the guy that he would be back to collect his prize. He snaked through the entire bar, looking for her in every dark corner of the place.

He even tried knocking on the women’s room and calling after her, peeking in when a chirping group of girls allowed him to do so ‘if he really is Stoney’.

But she was nowhere to be found. The last place he didn’t check was a small patio behind the back door, usually a spot one went to when they wanted to fuck a stranger.

Nah, she just needed a breather alone. Or with the discount Steven Tyler that’s been eyeing her from the barstool all night.

Fuck, what do I care?

He liked to think that he had the talent to stomach anything with a straight face, but an unfamiliar burn settled in his lungs as he made his way through a narrow corridor leading to the door.

This is a bad idea. Turn around and leave. Go count cockroaches or something.

He passed a couple that was shamelessly slamming against the wall with dull thuds, but it didn’t phase him at all.

He was too busy fighting his hazy brain, trying to coax his limbs to beeline back inside.

But he couldn’t stop himself as he took the shabby door handle and pushed the metal door open with a loud creak.

Maybe he’d take the scene of her pinned against the dirty bricks by someone else than him over whatever he just walked into.

Kiki was lying on the filthy concrete, curled up in a fetal position and shaking. She was holding a fading cigarette between her cramped fingers, hot ash falling on her red knuckles with every sob she let out.

Stone didn’t think twice about dropping down to his knees and hovering above her, little rocks and rubble stabbed his skin through the holes in his jeans.

“Jesus fucking Christ. What - what’s wrong, Baby?” he stuttered as he pulled to sit her up and shuffle to the wall to rest her back against it. She immediately hugged her knees, avoiding his eyes like a plague.

She was hyperventilating, tears streamed out of her puffy eyes and fell on the snot-stained Nets t-shirt.

He crouched in front of her and tried to take the cigarette away so it wouldn’t burn her. But her hand twitched and the cramp intensified, so he put his hands on her knees instead, cautiously caressing her.

“It’s f-fine, let m-me be. I’ll c-come inside i-in a sec,” she hiccuped, shuffling away when he moved to sit down next to her.

He carefully hugged her around the shoulders and pressed her to his chest. She was still shaking with rapid breaths, but her body slowly collapsed closer to him.

Stone felt his limbs tingle with an alien sensation, almost as if he’d never touched a woman before. Like an eerie fever dream.

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

“No, I’m…I’m okay, t-this h-happens sometimes…s-sorry,” she mumbled again, resting her forehead on her knees. His heart dropped.

“Did someone hurt you?” he questioned, trying to lift her chin to see if her face was in one piece.

“No, no, it’s nothing, I just…just l-leave me here, okay? I’ll be right back,” she choked out and let him take a look. After sparing him a brief glance, Kiki shook his hand off and hid behind her hair again.

She didn’t have any bruises, only cracked lips from all the salty tears.

“What happened? Who hurt you? Tell me, please,” he pressed, reaching up to stroke her hair.

“No one, I’m n-not hurt…it’s fine. Just go,” she repeated like a broken record, but he noticed that she began to melt into his arms and finally dropped the cigarette butt on the ground.

“I’m not leaving you.”

That brought a new wave of shivers and he desperately clutched her closer to make her warm.

Neither of them was wearing a jacket or a sweater, so he didn’t have much to work with. It still seemed to help, though, as her breathing slowly calmed down.

“What’s up, Baby?” Stone whispered after a long moment of silence, disturbed only by her fading sobs.

“I-it’s just…it’s me, I’m sorry. I’m just a sissy.”

She took a long pause to breathe in and cleared her hoarse throat.

“I, uh…I just saw some girls shooting up in the bathroom, that’s all. They offered me some, too, just as a cherry on top.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Oh. Did…did you -” he carefully started, still whispering. The implication brought a bit of fuel into her exhausted body, so she immediately cut him off.

“Fuck no. Christ, of course not."

Kiki sounded almost offended, so he quickly regretted even thinking about that option.

“I’m sorry. Sorry, I just…it’s not uncommon here…” Stone muttered with a bitter undertone in his voice. She took a big breath again.

“I know, it’s f-fucking everywhere. I don’t know what I was thinking…as if you could run away from drugs,” she lamented under her breath like she was scolding herself. “I guess I p-probably chose the wrong career. It j-just hit me more than it should’ve. Like I said, sissy.”

He wasn’t sure of what to say, so he just stared at the dirty ground in front of them. He realized there were multiple fresh-looking cigarette butts, she must’ve smoked a lot more before he arrived.

Kiki sniffed and wiped her wet nose with the back of her hand.

“It’s, uh…my dad, he…”

She took a moment to inhale a shaky breath.

“He was a smack addict, OD’d this spring. I didn’t know him that well, but, uh…I’ve seen that shit when he crashed at our place, you know…mom and I had this tiny little flat.”

She suddenly sounded clear and lucid, almost detached.

“I ran off as often as I could, slept at whatever place I worked at or in the school gym…I was probably the only kid that enjoyed going to school, ‘cause it meant I wouldn’t have to be at home. They both had a lot of friends over,” she scoffed. “Well, friends - dodgy old men and strung-out buddies with a pocketful of crack.”

She started picking on her cuticles and tore a hangnail, so Stone mindlessly reached out to stop her and started playing with the battered old ring on her middle finger.

“And mom was…she was ill. Real ill. You know, here,” she tapped her temple. “Got some of it from her, I think. Family heirloom.”

A few moments of tense silence and she continued.

“I guess they did love each other, in some ugly twisted way. In the end, she couldn’t bear to live without him,” Kiki mumbled the last part like she was talking to herself.

“So, uh…I kinda found myself alone in a dirty hole in the middle of East End with about fifty quid to my name…mom left me that,” she scoffed again, this time even sharper. “No note or anything, just that one fucking piece of worthless green paper.”

She sighed and watched his bony fingers slowly wiggle the ring left and right, slightly concerned that he didn’t speak yet.

Or move, for that matter.

“Dad’s cousin, Toby, moved here a long time ago. The only family I knew, so when it all happened, he tracked me down and said he’d take care of me. Got me a one-way plane ticket. A guitar case and these stupid dungarees,” she swabbed her nose again and wiped it on her pants to make a point. “That’s all I had on me.”

“What about him?” Stone suddenly asked, his voice eerily monotone.

“He recently moved to Aberdeen, but he still helps me with rent, even when I don’t ask. I try not to, obviously…I gotta look for something cheaper, ‘cause he’s already done enough, you know?“ Kiki waved her hand to try and loosen her shaking fingers. “Too much.”

She took a deep breath and fiercely shook her head.

“Fuck, sorry. I didn’t mean to just…shit, that was like an infodump from a bad movie,” she added and cleared her throat.

“Take it as a roundabout way of saying ‘run while you still can’,” she chuckled and tried to shuffle away, but Stone squeezed her closer.

A warm tear tickled her pale wrist, but it wasn’t one of her own. His breathing didn’t change, neither did his heartbeat or his stance.

Only the dull sound of teardrops falling on her skin as they dropped from the tip of his nose.

A Roman statue, weeping.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

His voice didn’t indicate any sort of emotion, but it soothed her in a way she’d never felt before. She raised her eyebrows.

“Like, ever?” she huffed, trying to loosen the mood, but he stayed still.

“If that’s what you want,” he said and patiently waited for her reaction. When she didn’t give him one, he cleared his throat and finally moved to rest his head on top of hers.

“Didn’t know you smoked.”

She scoffed.

“Only when I’m really riled up. News flash, it’s a nasty habit with zero benefits. Makes me even more poor, stinky and unhealthy.”

“A woman after my own heart," Stone nudged her shoulder, savouring the sound of her silent chuckle. "Just realized…I never asked you where you live.”

“At the corner of South Main and 17th Ave, next to Chinatown. A hovel, but there’s a bed and a bathroom and only I have the key. So I can’t complain,” she shrugged and continued. There wasn’t a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

“Still costs an arm and a leg, though, so it’s only temporary. Too small to get a roommate. I mean, I prefer solitude anyway, but you can’t always get what you want.”

“You could live with me, you know. I mean, if you want. At my place,” Stone said after a long minute of silence, still fiddling with her ring. "Be alone together."

A breath hitched in Kiki’s throat and she furiously shook her head.

“No. No, no, thanks…thanks so much, Stoney, but no. That’s - that’s too much to ask for,” she began stuttering again.

Stone moved to look at her, but she was firmly fixated on the trashcan on the other side of the patio.

“You didn’t even ask for that,” he shot back, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah, but you’re already more hospitable than I deserve,” she replied and shook her head again. “And I doubt your parents would be chuffed about a sudden stray raccoon occupying their house.”

He briskly sat up straight and pushed away from the wall to face her.

"No, I’m serious. There’s a little brick shed behind the house, that’s where I live. I re-made it into a proper living space, isolated the walls and put electricity there. A bathroom with a tiny shower, a kitchen corner and a small electric cooker. Got my own door, my own key, it’s detached from the house,” he spewed out, suddenly more animated than she’d ever seen him.

“I pay my parents some rent, but once we split it, we'll have more money for music. Or you can pay a smaller half and cook dinner from time to time to make up for the rest.”

Stone didn’t even let her take a breath.

“There’s an attic above the room, like a little loft. I already put a permanent ladder there, but it just collects dust ‘cause I don’t have enough stuff to fill it up,” he continued and finally let go of her fingers, waving his hands around as if he were using an invisible broom. “We can clean it up and put up a bed for you, or I can move up there and you can sleep downstairs, whatever you like better.”

Kiki stopped him, more firmly than before.

“Stoney, I can’t accept that.”

“Why not? Like I said, if you want, there’s an unused space and I was looking for someone to take in anyway, to split the rent. It’s a little neighbourhood in Capitol Hill, ten-minute bike ride from Pioneer. Volunteer Park right under your nose,” he continued, like a dedicated salesman.

“I know all the nooks and crannies, there’s tons of cool bars and cheap food spots. When the mountain’s out, you can see the Needle.”

He paused and when she didn’t immediately shoot him down, he started pushing again.

“If you insist on paying rent,” he shrugged and she finally looked up at him, slightly frowning. Red eyes and a patchy blush, smudged eyeliner and parched lips.

And yet, she was the most breathtaking human he’d ever seen.

“…and I wouldn’t dare to try and stop you, we’ll split, fair share. More dough for guitar strings and beer for both.”

“It’s just…I’m not…” she stuttered but Stone didn’t let her finish.

“If you’re concerned about the size, it’s about 175 square feet, I can shrink my stuff as much as you need -“

“No, it’s not that, that’s bigger than my flat. I just…”

“I rarely bring girls there. And if I happened to do that, by any chance, I’d tell you before -"

“You’re too good to me.”

Silence fell between them once again. This time, though, it was different. His big, strange gaze swallowed Kiki whole as if she was seeing him for the first time again.

Stone darted across her face and stopped at a fresh tear forming in the corner of her eye. He reached up and wiped it away with his thumb, touch as light as a feather.

“It’s about time someone is.”

“Stoney, I want to be alone,” she barely whispered, studying his firm expression.

“So do I.”

She finally ran out of pointless arguments and, after a moment, slowly nodded in agreement. He mirrored her nod, peridot twinkling under the milky moonlit sky.

How could I say no to them?

“I’ll pick you up at your place tomorrow morning, show you around and you can decide if you like the look of it, okay?”

“Why?” she let the all-encompassing question hang in the air.

He sighed and rested his head on top of hers again.

“You get me. That’s why.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

[pendulumthrows]

[shewantedtobeasecretgirl]

12. Granny Out of Control a.k.a. headless chickens, Gene Simmons’ girlfriend and Rapunzel

In the previous chapters: Judy and Stone act after their embarrassing encounter in the shower as if it hadn’t even happened; they implicitly agree on not telling Mike that his one-night stand was just the consequence of Judy’s revenge-fueled rumors about Stone’s sexual preferences. Ed loses his voice so the show has to be canceled, Jeff offers to give guitar lessons to Judy instead in his spare time. Granny buys a metal magazine to learn more about Seattle-based rock bands; the picture of Pearl Jam makes her think the perfect match for Judy isn’t Jeff but Stone. Krisha picks Effie up in the city to tell her that Kelly Curtis and Susan Silver have plans with her as a photographer; she also gives her the list of codenames the band and crew members use at hotels. Effie also joins her when she feeds Stone’s unsociable cat, Red who is incompatible with all girls who try to approach him.

 „I don’t know, man… Are you sure you saw them?”

“Don’t piss me off, Schmitty, of course I’m sure. I know whom and what I saw.” I mumble as I put the flashlight back between my teeth. I can’t believe I’m doing this. Not only makes he me do this stupid act, he even drives me crazy with this weak-minded questioning in the meantime. The guy obviously watches too much TV. Especially detective shows about drug cartels.

“But let’s go over it again. Maybe you were wrong or misunderstood the situation or…”

I sigh, and take the flashlight out of my mouth only to direct the blinding ray of light in his face.

“Okay, but this is the last time. And I’m only willing to tell it again because I have nothing better to do and because technically, I can’t do anything else until we finish this. Open the bag and hold it.”

“Yes sir... so you went having a shower…”

“Not that it matters if I went showering or shitting but yes, I went to the restroom.”

“And you opened the door…” he goes on with the storytelling like a small child who already knows his favorite bedtime story by heart.

“And there were they, standing at the sinks…”

“Stop. Are you sure it was them?”

“Of course I am, I could recognize Judy and Stone from miles!”

“Are you 100 % sure?”

“No, I’m only 99 % sure because there’s a very small chance that they both have doppelgangers right in this town but let’s say I’m very likely to have seen them.” I confirm while I start portioning the green leaves into the plastic bag Schmitty is holding.

“And they were…”

“…basically naked.”

“Basically?” he asks like he’d never heard the word before.

“Yes, basically.”

“How do you mean “basically”?”

“What? I’m fucking around here with sharing my weed with you and you’re already high? Unbelievable…”

“No-no-no, seriously, man, you didn’t say “naked”, you said “basically naked”. Define the difference. It’s important.” he flails fussily.

“Stop shaking the bag, it’s difficult enough to do this only with one hand. So, uh, they weren’t completely naked, they both were wearing a towel…”

“The same towel or…?”

“Hah, interesting idea, but no, they both had their own towel on. But I assume none of them was wearing any underwear…”

“That’d be normal, I mean, after showering… but that’s the weakest point in your theory, them having a shower at the same time… it sounds so unreal.”

“Yeah, I thought the same until I found the only logical reason.”

“What? That you only dreamed the whole thing? Or that it was just an intense trip due to the shrooms Mike gave you?”

“I know it sounds unbelievable but at this point, I’m pretty much convinced they did it on purpose.” I close the bag and throw it at Schmitty who hides it immediately in the inner pocket of his jacket and pats himself on the chest satisfied.

“Thanks. But I can’t follow your thinking, Scully. Why’d they secretly meet in the shower?”

“I don’t want to shock you but… I think they had sex right before. I almost entered but then I glanced them and they were almost naked, both giggling and Judy was groping Stone and… I backed out, I was so surprised, I didn’t even know what to do…”

“But they hate each other.” Schmitty protests shaking his head.

“And? Since when can’t people who hate each other have sex with each other?”

“Man, this is too much to me, Stone has Amber at home, Judy is like a nun, they can’t stand each other so obviously, they have sex??? Bullshit, that’s all I can say. I don’t know what you saw but it definitely couldn’t be a post-coital scene.”

“Look, I don’t understand the exact reasons either but…”

“I’ve always been told that as soon as we start touring, girls will try to drag me in the tour bus all the time but I imagined it somehow different…”

We both freeze at the hearing of Stone’s smug giggling and our surprise only grows when we recognize the voice that belongs to his companion.

“Sorry for ruining your wet rock star dreams but it’s impossible here to talk to someone face-to-face, even the walls have ears in this crew.”

Schmitty and I exchange a meaningful look and to his nod, I turn the flashlight on the lowest level. Walls might not have ears here but this bunk bed curtain we’re hiding behind definitely does. Even four, to be exact.

“So what’s the purpose of this conspired, hyper-secret meeting, Camden? I’m hungry so let’s get over with this as fast as possible!”

Hungry, yeah, I can imagine. So you prefer quickies, Stoney?

“I just wanted to talk about yesterday.”

Schmitty stares at me with popped eyes, even his jaws drop of shock.

“Ha. So you were thinking about it?”

“Yes but not the way you think. I’m not gonna tell you tirades about how much I regretted it or stuff because I didn’t. I only want to ask if you talked to Scully about it?”

Schmitty grabs my forearm, digging his nails into it, his other hand is shaking uncontrollably.

“No and I don’t know why I should force it, I mean it happened, it’s embarrassing enough for both of us so let’s draw a veil over it.”

“It’s embarrassing for both of us? Do you really think I give a damn about that? I mean, okay, I lost control, which doesn’t happens really often to me but who cares, I can handle the consequences. You feeling embarrassed, now that’s the last thing I care about. But have you already thought about the feelings of your friend at least for one single second?”

We both furrow our eyebrows and her words probably found their marks since Stone doesn’t answer, which makes Judy go on with the pep talk.

“Okay, neither of us is going to say a word since we both have selfish interest in keeping it in secret but if Scully shoots his mouth off and he finds out about what happened… just think into it, it’d ruin his self-esteem. I mean, it’s inevitable that it turns out later but the best strategy is discretion. Now, it’d be too fresh for him, let’s wait until he forgets about this little… intermezzo.”

Schmitty covers his still opened mouth in complete horror and even I start feeling uncomfortable now that my intuition is basically confirmed.

“So, would you finally promise to talk to Scully?”

“Dunno… I’ll consider it.”

“Jesus Christ, Gossard, would it hurt not to piss me off once in a lifetime?”

“To answer your question, yes, it would but this time it’s not about you, Miss Fussy. I was just thinking that we should let it slide since after all, it’s not as a big deal as you think.”

You fuck her and then try to ditch her? Come on Stone, I thought you were better than this.

“I mean, you make such a fuss but I don’t think Scully would let it slip, he’s probably already forgotten about the whole scene. And if I came up with it, he’d just start overthinking it; when he knows he has to shut his mouth, he becomes gossipy all the more.”

Ha, thanks Stoney but just for the record, I don’t gossip, I just process things by discussing them with other people, see also at “coping mechanisms”…

“It’s you who’s overthinking it. Just stop protesting and do what I ask you. I even use the word “please”.”

“Fuck, okay, I’ll see what I can do, just leave me finally alone with this. Can I ask you something too?”

“It depends…”

“Could we stay here for ten… fifteen minutes? You know, it’s about my reputation…”

“Fuck off, Gossard!!!”

We both exhale with a deep sigh when we hear them leaving the bus.

“Holy. Shit.”

“Holy. Fucking. Shit. Dude, you were right!”

“Of course I was right, I always am, you just never believe me.“

“But… damn… I didn’t see that coming… Gahhh.” Schmitty facepalms, rubbing his forehead worried.

“I’m surprised, though, I thought they didn’t notice me.”

“Apparently, they did. Jesus, I doubt there’s something serious between them but now that I heard it with my own ears, it all makes sense! They hook up, they are both embarrassed since they are enemies, plus the Amber-factor… and poor Jeff, he has a massive crush on Judy and she knows it, maybe she tries to have two irons in the fire… So she convinced him to keep the fling in secret not to ruin her chances at Jeff… She looks so innocent and now she turns out to be an actual snake… Do you think Karrie knows about it?” he jabbers staring desperately in front of himself.

“Whoa, stop, dude, are you insane? She’s not a bitch, they just made a mistake and she freaked out. Her worrying about Jeff sounded genuine, after all, Stone is no perspective for her, he’s got that… he’s got Amber, whatever she is for him. And I don’t think Karrie knows anything, even if she does, she’ll pretend she doesn’t.”

“But this changes everything! Jeff is our friend too and I don’t want to lie to him.”

“Trust me, he’ll never ask “And tell me Schmitty, have Judy and Stone had sex?”, so you don’t have to.”

“You’re making fun of me but you know too how dangerous information these are so you’d better have a good idea what are we going to do know.”

“I’ll tell you, Schmitty: we’re gonna act casual. Just watch me.”

***

„There’s no chance I could reach that string. Just… no. I don’t have that muscle, I’m done.” I moan as I desperately try to stretch my pinky finger to play the next chord following Jeff’s instructions.

“Hey, relax, just reach a bit further, you’ve almost got it.” he chuckles and makes an insecure move to help me out but he changes his mind in the last moment and pretends he only wanted to scratch his arm. And I pretend not to have noticed it.

“No, it’s impossible, I can’t twist my wrist that much. I don’t have freakishly long fingers like Stone, it’s enough.” I give up and put the guitar aside. We’ve been practicing for like one hour, I played him my still rudimentary sounding song idea, of course without telling him what exactly it was. He improvised a bass line to it on his acoustic bass guitar, his fingers are still running back and forth over the strings despite the fact I stopped playing. When I was a kid, Grandpa would tell me that if you cut the head of a chicken, it can still run around for a few seconds before collapsing, maybe it’s a similar phenomenon. Or maybe it’s like when a freight train hits a car and it pushes the vehicle in front of itself for miles before stopping. Headless chickens and train wrecks, why am I thinking about stuff like these while hanging out with a nice guy?

“I’m sure you can do it if you practice it. Look, my fingers aren’t long either.” he raises his palm. Is he expecting me to measure mine to his by placing them together? Could we rather just draw them around and compare the drawings like small children? Okay, he’s got strong, manly hands, that’s not bad at all. But how can he stuff those thick fingers between the strings? And those jewelries, God, they are terrible. Would he mind if I asked him to put them off?

“No, I can’t. I’m not good at these moves, I’ve already tried to play the violin, it didn’t go well. It went awful.” I protest, rather to overtalk my racing thoughts than to argue with him. I hope he’s not going to ask me about the details, I don’t feel like telling him that story at all.

“Okay, it was you who asked me for help, so…” he shrugs with a half smile, his fingers are still nerve-wrackingly torturing the instrument.

“Actually it was you who offered to help so…”

“Fair enough. I don’t want to force it so… if you want to finish all your future performances by saying “sorry, now comes the chord which is incompatible with my wrist so go the fuck home” – then okay, I don’t care.” he puts down the guitar. I try to decode the expression on his face, is he disappointed or just casual or…?

“How do you do that?” I ask quickly, I can’t bear that look.

“What?”

“This… everything…” I flail helplessly.

“I don’t know… I think I got bored with doing nothing and wanted to try something new and I realized I could do everything instead of nothing.” he leans back with a challenging smirk.

“Geez, you spend too much time with Stone.” I roll my eyes. “I mean… I played you something and you immediately knew what to do with it. Your head is full of ideas and variations, can you hear the harmonies instinctively or…?”

“I don’t know… when I hear a melody, I start hearing the other parts in my head… but sometimes I just mess around and try different things to check if they can work as a song or as an idea that I can use later. I try to keep my ears fresh, I fight against crafting only bass lines in my head, that’s why I pick up the guitar from time to time. You know, if a bass player never leaves his comfort zone, after a while, he’ll tend to operate only with the same five or five notes, it’s like a tunnel vision… or tunnel hearing…” he ends his explanation with a shrug and a lopsided smile, as far as I’ve observed, he does that pretty often.

“That’s amazing… I envy you so much. I’ve been studying and playing music for as long as I can remember but I’ve never felt that… sense of liberty? I practiced my ass off, I learned everything I could, at Juilliard, we basically dissected classical musical pieces into single notes and… I developed some weird perfectionism in the meantime, I know how good music is supposed to be composed but… I myself just can’t do it. I was so busy with studying other people’s works that I couldn’t develop the ability to create something, it’s like… my knowledge paralyzed my creativity… Or that’s just what I keep telling myself because I1m not willing to accept the fact that writing music is a gift you can’t just earn by practicing and learning…”

“Maybe you’re right.” he shrugs again and his reaction somehow hits me hard; I don’t know why, though. “I think I’ve already mentioned you that I took piano lessons but I hated it. I found literally nothing intriguing in it, it was boring, I’ve never been into Beethoven or some shit like that.”

“What?” I frown. I didn’t expect him to like the same things I do but… could he just show at least a little interest in what I like? I even talked about art and skateboarding with him. Okay, he doesn’t owe me anything, we’re not dating and all but if he ever wants something from me… okay, he probably doesn’t, it was obviously just a stupid gossip.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to trash your music, it’s just not for me, I appreciate it but I don’t like it. I’m just a Montanan jerk, did you forget?”

“You’re not a jerk, don’t say that… I’m just… nothing, forget it.”

“No, if you want to say something, don’t swallow it. Did I hurt you?”

“You didn’t… I’ve just spent my entire life playing classical music so I can’t imagine how someone is able not to like it at all.”

“Same here with sports.”

“God, I hate sports!” I exclaim and I immediately begin to laugh realizing I’m not better than him either.

“You see? But speaking of your music studies, there’s one thing I’ve always wanted to ask.”

“No.”

“No what? Am I not allowed to ask the question?”

“No is the answer to the question.”

“But I haven’t even…”

“Trust me, it’s no.”

“If you say so…”

“I’m just kidding. Most people attack me when they learn I’m a musician asking if I’d sing or play something for them, it’s so annoying, it’s like the “grunge question’ of classical musicians…”

“Okay, I get it.” he smiles. “But that’s not what I was about to ask.”

“Thank God. So, I guess you don’t want me to teach you reading sheet music either, because that’s usually the second question, which is usually asked by people with no musical hearing at all...”

“No, it’s more of a… personal one.” he hesitates squinting at me for the final permission.

“Hit me.”

“Why are you here?”

“Here? Like, here and now, with you or…?”

“No, I mean, why are you here, with the band? You graduated from one of the most prestigious music schools on Earth, you could conduct top choirs or whatever… and you’re here, loading our shitty van every single night, smelling sweat and cigarette smoke, spending days in a tour bus with beer drinking ugly dudes… Why? I guess Juilliard graduates can pick whatever job offer they want so...”

“I’m here for the money.” I answer without thinking and it immediately sounds false. Am I? Really? “I came here for the money, I don’t deny it, I had no job and however terrified I was, something told me I had to take this opportunity.”

“But… as a classical musician trained at Juilliard… why this job? I just can’t get it.”

“Well… I’ve known for a very long time that the music of baroque era is in which I’m the most interested. It’s, you know, a passion to me, it’s like punk was to you. And if you want to be really good at it, you have to go to the place where it comes from. Here in the States, you can basically hear nothing that was written before Mozart.”

“Europe?”

“Exactly. So in my senior year, I applied for a scholarship of the music academy in Leipzig.”

“And…?”

“And I won it.”

“So you studied in Europe too?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Why?”

“Because my father died a few months before I graduated and the small firm he ran died with him… it was a very complicated period so I asked the academy if I could postpone it by one year.”

He’s chewing his lower lip and speaks up only after digesting for a few seconds what he’s just heard.

“And they refused your application?”

“No, they sent me a kind acceptation letter in which they cited their scholarship regulation that said postponement is allowed once. So I moved back to Seattle and started teaching.”

“Oh. I guess something came up one year later too.”

“Well yeah, my sister’s almost dying, that came up.”

He exhales with a deep sigh, I have the feeling he already knew all the details, he just couldn’t do the math. Maybe Karrie told him our family saga. I don’t mind, though, I don’t feel like telling him those stories either…

“Well, that’s a lot… but it also sounds like… you gave up your dreams.”

Now it’s me who can’t do anything else but shrug.

“Maybe… or maybe, it was just a warning from the universe. I’m not religious but I do believe that everything happens with a reason, maybe you can’t find it out ever because it’s something bigger than you or your shitty little life. My family needed me and they still do, or at least they need my two hands I can make money with so… plus, I’ve always been terrified of performing. I have worst stage fright, I doubt I would be able to conduct in the spotlight of the world’s biggest concert halls… anyways… have you ever heard about famous, female conductors?”

“Normally, I’d say you’re a coward and you should follow your dreams but I understand the family factor, of course. And I don’t want to act like a hypocrite either, I could have looked for another graphic design program too when mine was canceled in Missula.”

“But changed your dream instead.”

“Exactly. And maybe that’s what you should do too if universe or God or Buddha or the spirit of Johann Sebastian Bach is trying to message you that you picked the wrong dream.”

“Are you trying to say I should switch my brain to believe loading shitty vans and smelling Scully’s and Schmitty’s stinky feet is my real dream?” I giggle.

“If that’s your way, than go for it, girl!” he plays the overly enthusiastic motivational trainer. We crack up but none of us is laughing heartfelt. His face finds finally rest in a genuine, encouraging smile. “Let’s raise our glasses to the new dreams!”

We both reach our hands to clink our imaginary glasses.

“To the new dreams!”

***

I’ve been on the road with them for days and nothing. Not a single move or a sound that’d confirm we’re following the right traces. And I’m thirsty. So thirsty. But they are so envious, I know they are hiding spare water in their stupid spacesuits or what but they claim they have nothing to share. Sure. I would never drink recycled pee, anyway. But those two moons look pretty cool, the night sky compensates me for every inconvenience I’ve experienced since we started chasing that gross sandworm… everything for the melange…

However important my mission is, it gets interrupted by three quick, impatient knocks on the door.

“You’ve been shitting in there for forty-two minutes! I know you’ve finished and you’re just reading! I have to pee! Get the fuck out of there! Why do you have to do this all the time?”

Maybe because this is the only place where I can have some progress with my current reading undisturbed? I reluctantly close the hardcover volume of Frank Herbert’s Dune and glance lazily at my wristwatch.

“First of all, it’s been only forty minutes. Second, it’s shorter than a blink of an eye, if you measure it in cosmic time. Not even applicable.”

“Okay, I can use astronomical metaphors too. My bladder is a red giant that is about to explode so…”

“I’m coming, I’m coming, geez, urinary incontinence? You should see a urologist.” I remark opening the door. He basically tosses me out of is his way and almost slams it on my nose.

“It’s rather you who should see a doctor, fuck, Stone, what did you eat? Uuugh, I’m dying.” I hear his muffled indignation.

I lie down on my bed and stuff the pillow under my nape. I turn the pages back and forth for a few times until find the place where I was before Mike kicked me out. So, back to those goddamn pervert Fremen fuckers…

I barely manage to read a few lines, when Mike comes back and throws himself on his bed, unmuting the TV that is showing underdressed ladies caressing their own body and telling their erotic fantasies in seductive voice. I clear my throat. No reaction. I do it again, this time longer and louder. Nothing.

“Sorry, am I bothering?” I ask sharply but our guitarist seems to be completely immersed in the curves. “Okay, busted. I know you only went to the toilet to jerk off. You only watch Playboy TV and noname porn channels, you really need to get laid.”

“Done, last night. Remember?” he answers slowly and mindlessly, his eyes are still glued to the screen.

“No, because I wasn’t there, thank God.”

“You’re just envious because you have to practice celibacy, otherwise Amber would cut your balls off.”

I squint at the girls over my book.

“Not that I feel tempted. Jesus, I’m sick of these… udders…”

“Hey, watch your mouth! Those ladies deserve more respect! Especially her!” he points at the blonde, blue-eyed, busty woman on the screen who is dropping her lingerie standing at a bath tub.

“Why, who is she?” I look back at the text in front of me, not that I understand a word of it. Since I receive no answer I turn my head towards Mike only to see he sat up in the meantime and stares at me offended. “What? I have no idea.”

“That’s Shannon Tweed!!!” he flails outraged.

“… who is…?”

“Who is a goddess, Playmate of the Year in 1982 and last but not least, the girlfriend of Gene Simmons!”

“Oh. So she’s old as dirt.” I summarize laconically.

“Stone, what’s wrong with you? What’s wrong with her? What’s wrong with big boobs? I thought you liked them… I mean, you are the guy who’s entitled to do anything with Seattle’s most spectacular pair of bosoms so…”

“Hey, you’re talking about my girlfriend!” I grunt.

“I’m talking about your girlfriend’s tits!”

“Exactly, that’s it! Don’t talk about my girlfriend’s tits! Anyway, how do you know what they look like?”

“Hey, first, I’m only talking about them. It’s called freedom of speech, First Amendment…”

“What the fuck, parts of the Constitution are printed now on beer tags or did I miss something?”

“…second, it is very difficult not to know what they look like, they basically poke your eyes out!”

“Only talking, ‘course.”

“Certain female anatomical features attract men’s eyes, it’s in our genetic code. Don’t even try to make me believe those features had nothing to do with you ending up with her. Wait!” he exclaims with a finger snapping. “Oh, I get it already. You miss her! That’s why you can’t stand the playmates on TV! But you could have said, it’s not a shame…”

“Dr. ‘Cready, expert of constitutional law and anatomy, psychotherapist. I’ve just said I don’t feel tempted…”

“Because those boobs” he points at the screen “are forbidden fruit and remind you of those boobs in Seattle.”

“You’re pointing in the wrong direction, Michael. You’re pointing at boobs in Indiana.”

“Whatever. You miss her, admit it. My boobies are over the ocean, my boobies are over the sea…”

“Stop!”

“My boobies are over the ocean so bring back my boobies to me…”

“Shut the fuck up!”

“BRING BAAACK, BRING BAAACK, BRING BACK MY BOOBIES TO ME, TO MEEEE!”

“I’m only saying that even huge breasts can be boring after a while.” I overshout his off-key singing.

Mike suddenly stops singing and just blinks at me completely frozen.

“You mean… you want to leave Amber?”

“Jesus, what did I do to deserve this?” I bury my face in my hands. “I mean… imagine your favorite food!”

“But that’s… risotto…?”

“Perfect!”

“But risotto doesn’t look like boobs!”

“Jesus, of course not, just imagine it!”

“Okay. Mmmh, it looks delicious. I can even feel its smell.” he moans with closed eyes.

“So you want to eat risotto now, right?”

“Oh yeah, I want it more than anything.”

“And if you could… or had to eat risotto every single day, would you feel the same?”

“Uhm, probably… not.” he opens his eyes.

“And here we are. If you’re in the position where you can play with huge breasts every day, it’s not such a big deal anymore.”

“Hm, makes sense…” he lies back. “But wait!” he sits up quickly again.

“What?”

“In that case, risotto wouldn’t be my favorite food anymore.”

“Yeah, probably…”

Congrats Sherlock. I drop my book on the nightstand, by now, I basically gave up all hope for finishing the chapter I was reading.

“But that means that you prefer small boobs now!”

“I didn’t say that but obviously, smaller tits have their appeal too. And there are girls who would look ridiculous with big breasts.”

My mind begins to wander involuntarily… Yeah, Amber is a bombshell and she drives me crazy whenever she’s around but I’ve always had a thing for more fragile looking girls…

“Who are you thinking about?” Mike asks greedily like a curious puppy.

“Jesus, no one.” I scoff frowning. “I mean, very slim girls look better with… proportionate breasts, you know, like small apples…”

I catch myself cupping my hands, what the hell, am I honking imaginable tits in the air? Okay, I have to talk to Eric to fly Amber here, I’m going to put an end to this, I’m pathetic.

“Say an example!”

What? I don’t know whom I was thinking about, I don’t even know if I was thinking about an existing person, maybe I was just fantasizing about freaky phantom breasts, I couldn’t even see them, it was just a desirable cleavage… and round hips… and shapely thighs…

“I can’t!”

“Just say an example, I don’t know, someone famous who looks like that, or someone who we both know…”

“Kylie Minogue?” I groan in agony. Hopefully I satisfied Mike’s need for a new protagonist for his erotic dreams because he only nods with an appreciative pout.

The ringing of the phone on the bedside between us interrupts our intellectual conversation and we both stare at the device surprised and confused for a few seconds, it’s usually us who call family members and friends, not the other way around. Finally, I decide to pick up.

“It’s Stone.”

“…” No one answers but I can hear some indistinct noises coming from the other end of the line.

“Hello… who’s that? Wo am I talking to?” I ask, and Mike pulls closer to the speaker of the receiver too.

“Ah… excuse me… I must have dialed the wrong number… you’re obviously not the Notre Dame Hunchbach…” an old female voice answers.

What the hell? Is this a prank call? Old people make phone pranks too?

“Who?” I mouth to Mike who mouths “Judy” as a response. Ah, yes. She also chose a codename, not that anyone is interested in her. “You’re talking to Dr. Hugh Jeego, but who am I talking to?”

“Ah, you must be Mr. Gossard. I’m Mrs. Albertson, Judy’s grandma.”

I almost drop the receiver.

“Ugh… uhm… hi, Mrs. Albertson, it’s nice to meet you… I mean, even if not in person but… I guess you wanted to call Judy so…” I make an attempt to finish this awkward intermezzo but she cuts me off.

“Actually, I am glad that I can talk with my Judy’s new colleague, this job is so different in comparison to what she worked earlier, you know, she taught in a school…”

“Yeah, I know…”

“…and now she’s with a rock band, and there are so many rumors about musicians, they drink and do drugs and…”

“We… we don’t drink… that much… not before shows…” I answer and Mike nods approvingly opening a beer can with a loud fizz. “… and we prefer herbs…”

“And mushrooms…” Mike adds.

“Shut up, you ruin everything!” I hiss between my teeth while I cover the microphone with my palm.

“Who was that?”

“It was… it was Mike, our lead guitarist.”

“Ah, Mr. McCready!”

Mike pats his chest proudly.

“Exactly, Mr. McCready…” I flip him the bird.

“I hope my Judy takes care of herself, she tends to become obsessed with work, she even forgets to eat… does she eat properly?”

“I’ve… I’ve seen her eating… so I guess she does…” I try to reassure her but I’m afraid I don’t sound very convincing; after all, the eating habits of Miss Smarty Pants don’t belong to my main interests.

“I wish she ate more, she’s so skinny, isn’t she?”

“She is… I mean, she’s slim. But like… not too slim. Her body is proportionate… I mean, physically, anatomically… her shape is feminine…  and when I say “feminine” I mean she’s not malnourished…” I babble and the small apple tits appear in front of my eyes again, Jesus, I’ve started losing my sanity… For some reason, Mike feels necessary to grab the receiver and yell a gratuitous, cheesy tirade into it.

“My learned colleague is trying to say that she’s a very pretty young lady, with all the respect, of course. She’s the most virtuous girl I know, she behaves well, you can be proud of her, Mrs. Albertson.”

Yes, Mrs. Albertson, exactly, your grandchild behaves well, she brought condoms only enough for a whole fuckin’ football team, safety first… I snatch the receiver out of Mike’s hand and lift it back to my ear but before I could finally get rid of the old lady, the TV catches my attention. While we were listening to the phone call, the harmless playmate fantasies ended and the channel started airing hardcore porn. And either was the petting part very short or it didn’t even exist since the “characters” are pretty much in the middle of things and before we could react anything to avoid the disaster, the actress starts screaming rhythmically.

“What was that noise? Are women with you too?” the old woman inquires suspiciously.

“Turn down the volume, for fuck’s sake!!!” I scream-whisper to Mike.

“No, we’re alone, Mrs. Albertson… we’re just watching TV… Murder She Wrote, someone is being killed!” Mike improvises aggressively poking the remote. “It’s not working…” he groans with a miserable expression.

“Oh, I like that show… which episode? Maybe I turn on the TV to watch it too...”

If you knew… In the meantime the man starts moaning too so the obvious noises grow even louder.

“Oh, the murderer is being killed too!” I try to win some time for Mike, I admit, it wasn’t the most creative lie I’ve ever said…

“I’m saying it’s not working, it must be contact failure or low battery…” he explains beating the remote against his palm at full strength, creating a counterpart to the sound of the bodies snapping against each other on the screen.

“It’s the episode about the slasher.” I maintain the conversation and then address Mike again. “Then use the power button on the TV device or throw it the fuck out of the window, I don’t care, just do something!!!”

“Ah, great idea!” his face lights up and finally, he walks to the TV and turns it off. I swear, I thought for a second he was going to choose the window version, like Keith Moon. I’m sure he was considering it but found the box too heavy.

“It’s over…“ I transmit to Mrs. Albertson.

“It ended with a cliffhanger, what a shame…” Mike remarks and I can barely suppress my snorts.

“I hope for a happy ending…” I grin, Mike presses his pillow against his face, while the poor lady obviously doesn’t even know what to say. After a few seconds of silent, body-shaking laughter, he rearranges his face muscles and takes the receiver away from me.

“It was a pleasure to meet to you, Mrs. Albertson. Judy is a great girl and as far as we know, Effie too, please, hug her for us. I hope we can meet you in person too, when we get back.”

“I admit, I’m relieved, I want you to know I think you are just darling guys. And now, I call the Notre Dame Hunchbach, as I intended to. Goodnight, Mr. Gossard, Mr. McCready.”

“Goodnight, Mrs. Albertson.” we sing in unison.

After I hang up the phone, we stare at each other silently for long moments, before we burst out laughing hysterically.

***

Great. She’s late. She promised she’d be waiting for me at the bar counter at 9 p.m. I’m doing the third circle in this goddamn place and she’s nowhere to be found. Okay, RCKNDY is actually my favorite place and I was happy when Krisha offered to meet me here to unveil Kelly’s and Susan’s “great idea” about which I only know at this moment that it concerns my photos. The cigarette smoke irritates my throat and some unknown band is in the middle of sound check on the stage, the indistinct guitar noises and the female lead singer’s instructions blast at random moments from the speakers causing me mild heart attack every single time and making the crowd members overyell them. Despite the early hour, the place is packed; I can barely struggle through the mass of flannel-wearing guys and girls. Early hour… what am I talking… now that my lifestyle converges on clinical death, both metaphorically and literally, I usually spend my evenings in front of the TV wearing my pajamas. It’s good Krisha picked this day, Mom is working at that new side job again so I didn’t have to make anything up to prevent her from asking suspicious questions.

I visited the restroom to kill some time but it just made me frustrated all the more since I involuntarily became the audience of a bunch of girls, one of them was gushing about the kissing skills of her current crush… gah, I can’t believe I turned into this sour bitch, just because I’ll end up as a spinster, she’s entitled to have some fun…

Almost fifteen minutes have passed by and she still hasn’t shown up yet. I can’t hang out with Victor either, he’s helping with putting the finishing touches at the sound check. I guess I have to wait then. I pick a bar stool and try to decipher the list of beverages on the wall.

“What can I get for you?” a red-haired bartender girl asks. Her question catches me off-guard, since my good old answer “beer” hasn’t been an option for a while and I didn’t have enough time to consider the alternatives. She’s chewing gum with a bored face, reminding me of a ruminant… a hot ruminant.

“Uhm… I… ugh, I haven’t…” I jabber and she reacts with an impatient eyeroll, the countless bracelets are clinking around her wrist as she runs her fingers through her red mane.

“I’d like to have a virgin mojito.” I utter the first thing that comes to mind. She acknowledges my choice with a scornful scoff… Yeah, in case I haven’t felt embarrassed enough yet, she makes obvious that she’s the sexy and cool femme fatale and I’m a straight-edge cripple in a boring, worn, brown jacket.

“Hey, here you are!” someone grabs my shoulders.

“Me? I’ve been waiting for you for like… hours?” I frown while Krisha settles down on the bar stool next to me and places her beer on the counter.

“Gosh, sorry!” her eyes pop as she checks her wristwatch. “I arrived too early and went to the executive office to meet a few friends.” she points at some people talking in front of a door that probably belongs to the office rooms. “That’s Alex, he runs this place, he’s a good friend of Stone, by the way. And that girl next to him works here too, she’s the girlfriend of Regan.”

I observe the girl she’s talking about, she has a nice, bright smile. Fantastic. Krisha knows everyone here… and I have no idea who these people are, and by the way, I’m nobody.

“Regan?” I furrow my eyebrows. “It’s a unique name, I swear I’ve heard it but I can’t place it…”

“He’s also an old friend of mine. And of Stone of course. You might know his name because he played in Malfunkshun with Andy. I mean Andy Wood.”

“Wood.” we say the name at once. “Of course I know his name, I didn’t grow up in a cave…” I explain, maybe in a sharper tone than intended.

“Oookay… “ she raises both hands defensively. “Actually, Regan almost became the drummer of Mother Love Bone, until they replaced him with Greg Gilmore. They made Stone fire him, I was thinking “okay, that’s it, he’s gonna hate us forever” but somehow, he managed to convince him by using logical reasons. If you ever want to fire a drummer, just call him because he’s your guy.” she nods meaningfully and takes a sip of her beer.

“Based on my sister’s opinion, drummers probably leave the band willingly, after having spent some time with him.” I remark dryly. “Thank you.” I reach for my drink and slide the money towards the phlegmatic redhead. I suppress a smile when I see her realizing with disappointed face that I spared the tip. What was she thinking, seriously?

“Oh yes, I forgot your sister and you sew Stone-shaped voodoo dolls in your spare time. By the way, Regan has played with a guy called Shawn for a few years, he’s a huge talent. The dude is a Prince-freak, which is somehow odd in a city where you can’t make a single step without stomping on a distortion pedal but he’s an awesome singer. AND they are planning to jam with Stone as soon as he gets back. I can give you the address of their rehearsal room in case you want to assassinate him…”

“No, thanks, I already know where he lives so…”

“Right!” she slaps herself in the forehead.

“Anyway, can I finally learn why we’re here?”

“Soon. We’re waiting for someone… I’m going to introduce you to someone… who has a job offer for you!”

“Wow… let me guess… healthcare branch has discovered me and they want me to be the face of some firm’s dialyzer portfolio?” I squint at her as I loudly slurp my cocktail.

“Damn, you nailed it!” she bangs her fist against the counter. “Anyway, I’m not going to tell you anything until she arrives, you need to be punished for the self-deprecating joke.”

“Spank me…” I mumble but my retort stays unnoticed since Krisha stares in an indefinite direction next to me sending an enthusiastic wave towards someone.

“Look, Jer is here too.” she points at the target of her smile and I follow her gaze only to recognize Jerry Cantrell… he’s wearing black jeans and a black leather jacket with a white tee.

“Wait… didn’t… didn’t you mention… I mean, you dated, didn’t you?” I ask confused, trying to form coherent sentences. It’s not going well.

“Yeah, we did.” she wiggles her eyebrows.

“But exes are supposed to hate each other…” I try not to turn around too obviously, so I remove a non-existing hair from the shoulder part of my jacket. While he’s slowly walking through the crowd, I notice he’s holding hands with a long, brown-haired girl. She has a perfect body and she’s probably completely aware of it since the tight leather pants highlight every curves of her. Sure, a 10/10 chick for a 10/10 guy, that’s how world has always worked… His hair is let down… I catch myself smiling, Dad insisted on calling him Rapunzel…

“It was just a summer fling and we realized after a few dates that we weren’t made for each other. So no one got hurt.” she shrugs. “Anyway, we share the building with the management of Alice in Chains so we knew we would run into each other all the time. The music scene of this city it’s like a big, incestuous family so…”

We both crack up.

“Oh no…” she sighs annoyed, staring over me again. I don’t know what’s going on in her head but it must have to do something with another twenty-eight people I’ve never met. “DON’T TURN AROUND!” she yells at me when I try to check the cause of her reaction.

“Why, what’s…?”

“It’s too late, I guess she’s already noticed us… or hasn’t she? Bow your head…” she leans on the counter, letting her hair cover her face.

“What the fuck?”

“I said bow your head… avoid eye contact… shit, I don’t have the nerves for this right now…”

“Krisha? Oh my god, it’s you, I haven’t seen you for ages!” I hear a powerful female voice from behind my back.

“Oh, hi Amber, it’s nice to see you!” Krisha groans with a painful smile, lifting her head and letting herself be pulled in a half-embrace resigned. I have to bite my lips to prevent myself from giggling since she sends a cross-eyed grimace to me over the girl’s shoulder. So she must be Stone’s Amber.

“Hey, are you here with your little friend?”

And that must be me. I involuntarily straighten up as much as I can but despite the high bar stool, I’m still shorter than her in her heels. I wonder if Red peed into these ones too… Now that I’m checking her out properly, I realize somehow she doesn’t belong here. Mini dress, heels, perfect makeup… That’d be Stone’s type?

“Uhm, this is Effie, she’s the sister of the band’s new monitor engineer…”

“Ah, Julie, you see, I know everything…” she knocks on his temple with her index finger a few times. “I’m Stoney’s girlfriend.” she grabs my hand and shakes it aggressively. I don’t correct her, I just exchange a quick look with Krisha, her eyes confirm that it wouldn’t make sense anyway.

“And… are you going to stay for the gig too?” Krisha nods towards the stage after a few moments of awkward silence.

“Oh, no, I’m going partying with my girls, I just checked in, I wanted to say hi to Alex and ask him for a favor. We’re organizing a grunge-themed fashion show and this place would be a perfect place for it.”

“A what?”

Krisha’s face radiates shock and disgust at the same time.

“You know, this grunge thing is blowing up, the firm is about to launch a collection, you know, flannel shirts, jackets, shorts with leggings, so we’re looking for a grungy place to present it…” she explains with huge hand moves. As she begins to explain the details of her brilliant idea, I get immediately distracted. Not only because my mind is desperately trying to ignore this nonsense but because I spot Leather Pants Chick at the same sport were Alex and his colleague were standing a few minutes ago. Only a few seconds pass by until her partner arrives too, he immediately pulls her closer by her hips as he leans against the wall… they engage into a make-out session without hesitation. Jerry digs his fingers into her hair and as things are getting more intense, his hands slowly wander along her back until they reach and firmly grab their destination…

I swear it wasn’t so hot in here when I arrived, I can feel my face is burning, I’m sweating like I was in hell… Yeah, being forced to watch a hot guy smooching with a girl who isn’t you but in exchange, is much prettier than you, that’s how I imagine the first circle of hell. I can barely peel myself out of my jacket, my elbow gets stuck when Amber grabs its sleeve. I’m still a little dazed-off and stare at her expressionlessly while I’m trying to pick up the threads of conversation.

“...exactly like this one, thrift clothes are so trendy now, where did you get this one?”

She shakes the sleeve of my jacket impatiently, making me realize that’s what she’s talking about. Should I tell her the truth? That it’s not from a thrift shop, that it’s original, that Judy and I pooled the money we earned at our summer jobs together and made an agreement about taking turns on wearing it six years ago?

“I can’t… can’t remember…” I manage an effortless answer.

“You have a great taste, we three should do a thrift store tour together.” she rants on.

“Totally.” Krisha tries to seem enthusiastic but she rather reminds me of a snarling serial killer.

“Okay, I have to go, oh my god, I’m late and I haven’t even talked to Alex. We could hang out in the city next week, call me, Krish! And bring your new friend too!” she winks at me. “See you, later girls!” she finally leaves us alone, the quick tapping of heels echoes in my head even after she has disappeared behind the office door. Krisha grabs her glass and drinks its content for one sip.

“Ah, I feel much better now.” she sighs. “I’m afraid my phone is about to die. I may not be able to make phone calls for a while.”

I snort into my drink.

“I must say, she’s not the girl I’d imagine as Stone’s girlfriend.”

“Trust me, she’s not the girl whom anyone would imagine as his girlfriend. But seeing them together is always like a free circus ticket, it’s pretty funny, especially when you have coke and popcorn too.”

“Sooo… where’s the mysterious person who we’re waiting for?” I look around, although I have no clue what physical characteristics I should look for, I don’t even know if we’re talking about a man or a woman. As my gaze slowly wanders around the room, I admit to myself unwillingly, that I exactly know what I’m looking for. Long, blonde hair, black leather jacket and a white shirt. The realization makes me blush, I feel like in those good old high school days, trying to casually encounter my current crush who doesn’t even know I exist. Why am I like this all the time? Why? I’m such an idiot…

“Okay, I check Alex’s office, maybe we misunderstood each other and she went in without me noticing her. And I’m sure Alex needs some spiritual support too, the recovery will be tough for him. Do you wanna come?”

“No, I… I’d rather wait here.” I answer quickly, flushing, I’m stupid, stupid, stupid… “So it’s a she?” I shout after Krisha but she just waves me off laughing.

So… what was I thinking? I could have join her and meet her cool friends but I chose to drink here alone, not that I don’t feel lonely enough. And I ran out of drink in the meantime too… I want to procrastinate the next round until the other, friendlier bartender shows up again but unfortunately, the red-haired demon spots my empty glass and elbows on the counter opposite me with a challenging, patronizing smile.

“May I bring you a next lemonade?”

I’m about to snap back but a pleasant male voice over my head makes me change my mind.

“One more of this, whatever it is. And the lady is my guest.”

[dissident-vedder]

- dissident-vedder masterlist!

 disclaimer: all of these are purely fiction and of my own creation. this blog is a mostly pearl jam fan blog, so there will be very little other characters in this outside of the group.

 please do not repost my work, i spend a lot of time on them.

if any of them seem ooc, i am sorry, i don’t know them personally.

i am not going to do any of the drummers of the band, i am very sorry!

if you want to be tagged in any future imagines, please message me!

( eddie vedder! )

( series! )

pessimist! | optimist! | sanguine! 

once upon a december! | once upon a december ii! 

fame!

( oneshots / blurbs / etc! )

moral of the story!

wine & rooftops!

( headcanons! )

n/a!

( jeff ament! )

( series! )

almost!  | hiraeth! 

( oneshots / blurbs / etc! )

n/a!

( headcanons! )

n/a!

( mike mccready! )

( series! )

n/a!

( oneshots / blurbs / etc! )

american daydream!

( headcanons! )

n/a!

( stone gossard! )

( series! )

n/a!

( oneshots / blurbs / etc! )

towards the sun! 

the christmas miracle!

( headcanons! )

n/a!

( anthony kiedis! )

( series! )

n/a!

( oneshots / blurbs / etc! )

in a week!

like real people do!

breaking the girl!

( headcanons! )

n/a!

( tags! )

i | ii | iii | iv | v | vi | vii | viii

[groupieimagines]

The Release Party- Stone Gossard imagine

I was extremely proud of my amazing guitarist boyfriend Stone Gossard.

I was currently in the release party for their debut album "Ten" and I couldn't be happier, I was one of the first people to listen to the album and it drove me to tears.

The party was being held in this beautiful house their management had rented, it was candle lit and it had the "Pearl Jam" letters of the cover of the album pasted in a wall near the door, many bands were here and everyone looked dashing.

I was looking around for Stone when I saw him taking to Eddie so I walked towards him. Eddie saw me walking towards them and tapped stone in the shoulder so he'd turn around, after that Eddie walked away leaving us alone but not without winking at Stone first making him laugh and making me blush.

"Hello handsome" I said kissing his cheek

"Hey gorgeous" he spun me around making my flowy red dress move

"This party is awesome, I'm so proud of you guys" I said looking up at him

"Thank you, we wouldn't be here without your endless support babe" he said, his words making me blush hiding my face on the crook of his neck kissing it slightly.

Suddenly "18 and life" by skid row started playing. I squealed, they were one of my favorite bands and Stone knew it, I grabbed his hand pulling him to the dance floor. "Come on Steno, let's dance!!" I exclaimed happily to which he gladly obliged and started to slow dance singing to me making me smile widely and making me think how much I loved this man and how lucky I was to be with him

"What are you thinking about" Stone said making me look up meeting his beautiful amber eyes.

"Just on how lucky I am to be with you" I told him which caused him to kiss me.

*Half an hour later*

About half an hour later I saw Eddie grabbing the mic and getting up the small stage they had set I assumed he was gonna say a few thanking words about the people who had attended the party but instead he called Stone to the stage, when Stone got up he actually started a thanking speech, he ended his small speech and suddenly he called me up on stage and people started clapping, I was blushing so hard having no idea what would happen next, I got on stage immediately after, Stone hugged me tightly, the other members of Pearl Jam smiling at us.

"Stand here" stone told me. I was beyond confused.

He suddenly got on one knee and the whole party erupted in cheers and claps, the band included, "I remember you" by skid row started playing, by this point i was starting to tear up when I saw him taking out a small box from his pocket and opening it

"I love you so much" he started, "this last five years with you have been the best years of this crazy ass life I have, you have kept me sane and happy, that being said I hope you love me as much as I love you" by that point I was full on bawling.

"Would you do me the honor of making me the luckiest man on this planet and marry me?"

"YES!" I screamed

As soon as he put the ring on my finger he got up and we kissed and hugged like we've never done it before. By now the whole band was wrapping us in a group hug. This is the happiest I've been in all my life and I wouldn't change it for the world. I love my crazy little family and my handsome fiance.

*Time laps to our house*

We finally arrived home, we didn't stop hugging all night. When we opened the door everything was candle lit and there were rose petals all the way to the couch where we hugged and cuddled all night happy in eachother's arms.

[stonegossardfacts]

stone gossard is actually just a figment of your imagination