drain you | Kurt Cobain fanfic

29: Nevermind, Part Three

As Nirvana embarked on our concerts, the excitement was palpable. Kurt's energy was infectious, his enthusiasm lighting up the stage every night as he poured his heart and soul into every performance.

Backstage, the camaraderie among the band members was unmistakable, their bond forged through years of shared experiences and a mutual love for music. We laughed, we cried, and we celebrated together, savoring each moment as if it were our last.

But amidst the chaos of life on the road, there were moments of quiet intimacy between Kurt and me, stolen moments of solace amidst the whirlwind of fame and adulation.

Late one night, after a particularly exhilarating show, Kurt and I found ourselves alone in our tour bus, the rest of the band asleep in their bunks. We sat together in silence, the only sound the gentle hum of the engine and the occasional distant rumble of passing cars.

"Hey," Kurt said softly, breaking the silence. "Are you happy, Merci?"

I turned to him, surprised by the question. "Of course I am," I replied, my voice filled with sincerity. "Why do you ask?"

Kurt shrugged, his eyes searching mine for answers. "I don't know," he admitted. "I guess I just worry sometimes, you know? About us, about everything."

I reached out to touch his hand, offering him a reassuring smile. "We'll be okay, Kurt," I said, my voice filled with conviction. "As long as we have each other, we can get through anything."

Kurt nodded, his expression softening as he leaned into my touch. "I love you, Merci," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I love you too, Kurt," I replied, feeling a surge of warmth and affection wash over me. In that moment, surrounded by the faint glow of the moonlight and the steady rhythm of the road beneath us, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, our love would always be our guiding light.

As Nirvana's tour continued, the band's popularity soared to new heights. At each stop, throngs of adoring fans packed the venues, eagerly awaiting the chance to catch a glimpse of their musical idols.

But with fame came a new set of challenges, including the presence of groupies - eager young women who clamored for the attention of the band members. Kurt, in particular, found himself the object of their affections, his brooding charisma and enigmatic allure drawing them like moths to a flame.

One night, after a particularly raucous concert, a group of groupies descended upon the backstage area, their giggles and whispers filling the air with anticipation. Kurt's eyes lit up with a mixture of excitement and apprehension as he caught sight of them, his natural charisma shining through despite his inner turmoil.

"Hey there, handsome," one of the groupies purred, sidling up to Kurt with a flirtatious smile. "You were amazing out there tonight."

Kurt flashed her a charming grin, his usual reticence melting away in the face of her attention. "Thanks," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement. "I'm glad you enjoyed the show."

As the groupies vied for Kurt's attention, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy gnawing at my insides. Despite my best efforts to remain composed, the sight of other women throwing themselves at Kurt filled me with a sense of unease and insecurity.

But Kurt seemed oblivious to my inner turmoil, his focus solely on the group of adoring fans before him. And as the night wore on, I found myself grappling with a newfound sense of uncertainty, unsure of where I stood in Kurt's eyes amidst the swirling chaos of fame and adulation.

As the night unfolded backstage, a swarm of groupies surrounded Kurt, their adoration palpable as they vied for his attention. Kurt, reveling in the attention, remained oblivious to their intentions as he charmed them with his signature wit and charm.