YOU KNOW YOU'RE RIGHT // Kurt Cobain

Chapter 11

"I just don't get why you didn't let me lift that one specifically. You could have really damaged your back," Greg persisted. He was not going to let this go no matter what I told him. "I don't see what the big deal is," I replied. "Sure, I picked the heaviest amp out of all of them, but I can lift things by myself."

"No, you can't," Greg deadpanned, and my eyes widened. He did not just say what I thought he said, did he? I was going to put him in his place.

"Do you hear yourself right now? If Kurt were here, he wouldn't even argue the point that I'm completely capable!"

"It's always about Kurt, goddamnit! First you were in love with him, then we toured with him, then he was the one who dropped us. And now we're touring again, for— you guessed it— him. When is it going to be about us, Erin?"

"It never will," I snapped back quickly. "Not in my book. 'Us' is never going to happen."

"That's not what I meant," Greg sounded defeated. As he should have.

"Well, Greg, that's what I meant. Take it or leave it."

As we drove down the freeways of Boston, Massachusetts, the sky was a light grey with thin rays of sun poking through the staggered clouds that littered the air. Fog gathered on our windows, as it was incredibly cold outside and we had the heat blasting. In spite of the gloomy weather, I was feeling strangely optimistic. Maybe this tour would be a good thing. We were on the road, and maybe I would have some inspiration to write some new music. And it's not like we would have to interact with Nirvana much either, just technical talk would suffice in order for the acts to run smoothly. No Kurt, no problem.

The UHaul, as well as my little fantasy came to a screeching halt as we arrived in the parking lot where a trailer was parked. Not "the trailers were parked," a trailer. Singular. I almost threw up in my mouth. They hadn't followed through on our deal. And now I was going through all the possible worst case scenarios that could occur within the next few minutes.

"Greeeeaaaat," Greg droned, and I felt him on a spiritual level right then and there.

We got out of the UHaul, and I looked up after gaining my footing to see Krist and Dave standing at the trailer door, waving like two kindergarteners on their way to their first day of school. I'm not going to lie here, I missed them a lot. They were nothing but kind to me, but we lost contact with everyone in Nirvana, not just the Blue Eyed Monstrocity.

"Yo!" Dave yelled out, motioning to us to join him at the trailer door. I gingerly walked across the lot, trying to play it off as exhaustion from travel, because in reality, my heart was completely boomeranging within my ribcage. I let out a fake yawn, just to be safe, and when I got within a closer proximity to the guys, they met me halfway and picked me up in the biggest hug I'd had in years. Krist picked me up off the ground, causing me to let out a little yelp, and Dave scrambled behind me, trying to jump on top of the both of us as I clung to Krist for dear life.

"We're so glad you're here, E," Dave gushed, pulling me by the wrist into the trailer. "Okay, so I'm gonna give you a quick tour. This is the kitchen, there's a real whole couch over there, we have a mini bar, a microwave, and these," Dave ran across the trailer at lightning speed, opening a door to reveal... Kurt sitting on one of the beds, holding a bent spoon and a lighter, with an overly focused look on his face. He looked horrible; he was paler than usual, his cheeks looked hollowed out, and I hadn't thought he could have gotten any skinner-- he exceeded my expectations.

"The bunks," Dave exasperatedly announced, shutting the door really loudly, running a hand through his hair. He recollected himself, and turned to face me. "We got a huge ass cash advance for our new record, so whatever Kurt didn't blow on drugs, we invested into this new trailer."

I grimaced at the mention of drugs, but if I were to judge I would have been a fucking hypocrite. Yeah, I had been clean for a while, but if I could marry weed, I would without a second thought.

Later in the day, I experienced a segment of time which I have termed "Tension in the Trailer™." Within this segment, I was hungry, so I headed to the trailer kitchen to prepare some chips and salsa. I bent down to the cabinet to get the chips, and nearly bumped my head into Kurt's chest on my way back up, as he was reaching across the counter for the vodka.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry," Kurt said, a sarcastic undertone peeking through his otherwise sympathetic voice, turning away to grab a glass from one of the upper cabinets. I headed to the mini fridge, taking out the jar of salsa. I stepped back to try and find a bowl, but Kurt tripped over my foot. He was literally tripping. "Sorry," I tried not to laugh at that thought through my apology; he was taking none of it. We both spent the next few minutes in silence as I dipped a chip into the salsa and Kurt took a sip of his 2pm knockoff Cosmopolitan. Out of nowhere, he opened his mouth to speak.

"I like your hair, it's different," he told me, and those six words flung me into the stratosphere. Who knew that a simple compliment from the Loch Ness Monster would do so much?

"Thanks," I played off my surprise, hastily grabbing the bag of chips and my bowl, heading off to the seating area, while he retreated to his heroin cave. Thomas came out of the bunks, storming past Kurt, nearly knocking his drink out of his hands.

"You're coming with me," Thomas whisper-yelled, pulling me away from Kurt, who honestly looked stunned at Thomas's sudden reaction, and brought me into the seating area.

"Greg is in love with you," he exhaled, and I tried to hold in a laugh. He could not have been more inaccurate.

"No way. Absolutely not. How did you even come to this conclusion? Like, for God's sakes, he and I have been best friends since the beginning of high school! Yeah, he had a crush on me for a brief moment in time about six years ago. With all due respect, are you joking?!" I responded incredulously, and Thomas just let out a sigh.

"Yeah, I know, it sounds absolutely insane, out of line, whatever. But Erin, I really feel like you're being oblivious in this situation. I mean, have you seen the signs? The physical attraction, the sentimental birthday card, his jealousy around Kurt--"

"There's nothing going on with Kurt either!" I cut Thomas off in a similar whisper-yell-esque fashion. "He hates me! He said I'm a fucking bitch! He said I'm hard to work with! He dropped our band for two years after I told him I needed fucking time to find out what I truly wanted! I can't be with somebody like that!"

Thomas was quiet, yet he had a contemplative expression that made my insides turn. "So you have thought about being with him?"

I rolled my eyes on the outside, but on the inside I could not deny the sad, sad truth that I had, indeed thought about being with Kurt Cobain. I gathered my thoughts, took a deep breath, and looked Thomas dead in the eyes as I lied right to his face: "No way."

A/N Shalom! I am so so so endlessly sorry for not updating. I had extreme writers block w this chapter, so thank you for sticking it out. The tea is about to be scalding in these upcoming chapters, and they should be easier to write. Anyway, I released some new music recently, so I'm gonna put a few of my songs below :) I'd love if y'all could listen! Lots of Love, Nyquil

-this one is personally my favorite :))