missy's lips- krist novoselic x oc

chapter three- (not) a member of the 27 club

Arriving at my home that afternoon, I deftly unlocked the front door turning the key as gently as I possibly could. After a shitty first day, I wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone.

"Hey Missy, how was your first day?" Nevermind then.

I shut the door behind me, and sighed, "Do we have a camera around the house?"

"Why's that?" Tiffany called out, her voice competing with the noise of her sewing machine.

"I accidentally became a photographer for the yearbook."

She takes her foot off the sewing peddle and turns to look at me., "Well fuck, we have one around here somewhere. I'll look for it later tonight. Also can you take Marla to the park? I need to work on this dress and she's been wanting to play with someone all day."

"Why can't Adam take her?"

"Well do you know where Adam is at the moment?" I shook my head. "That's what I thought. Come back before it gets dark."

I took Marla to a little park down the hill from where we lived. I'd passed it on my way walking home from school and figured it was the park Tiffany was referring to. Like everything else in Aberdeen it looked sad; the bright paint on the equipment had faded years before I was born and cigarette butts scattered the ground. Even Marla could sense how depressing the sight was, she turned to me and buried her head into my legs. "Missy can we watch Bluey?"

"Soon enough," I replied, not having the heart to tell her that Bluey wouldn't exist for another 30 years. "How about I push you on the swings, Marla? Wanna see if you can go all the way round?"

She nodded and raised her arms so I could lift her onto the swing. While I was pushing, something or rather someone had caught my eye. He looked younger than me, maybe by a year or two, and was leaning against a tree a few metres or so away from me. His blonde hair and blue eyes immediately stole my attention, and in that moment a sense of eeriness washed over me. I noticed how skinny he was, and wondered if it was the cigarette in his mouth that had helped. We locked eyes for a split second and I quickly looked back down at my sister, who didn't seem as creeped out as I was and seemed to be having the time of her life. Until...

Plunk.

It was a second or two before Marla started wailing, drawing the boy's attention even more. She'd only fallen into the grass and gotten a scrape on her knee, but the tears still fell down her face. "Hey hey, you'll be okay Marla I promise, wanna go down the slide?" She only shook her head and started wailing louder.

"Is she okay?"

"Jesus Christ," I jumped, turning around to see the boy, who was putting out his ciggy with his shoe. I grabbed Marla's hand instinctively.

"Sorry for scaring you," he mumbled. "Your sister's really loud, it sounds like she's dying."

"She's not," I assured him, squatting down to meet Marla at eye level, "She's just a little sensitive, that's all. You wanna piggyback?"

Marla, intimidated by his presence, had quietened down into sniffles by now and just nodded. Hoisting her up onto my back, we continued the conversation.

"Do you live around here?" He asked, clearly taken about by my accent.

"Sadly yeah. Tiffany- my mum- moved us here like a week ago, do you?"

The boy had trouble making eye contact with me, rather choosing to look at his shoes. "Well now I do. I moved back in with my mom because my piece of shit dad didn't want me living with him anymore."

"Fuck I'm sorry that must suck. If it's any consolation my dad's dead so I kinda get it," I said, with Marla's head on my shoulder. Poor thing had fallen asleep. My parents were actually just children living in a completely different continent, but I thought it'd be best not to bring that up.