False Starts || Dave Grohl

Chapter 35

"Krist."

"Shut up Rosemary," He barked back, catching me off guard. The tall bassist has never been one to express his annoyance in such a way. "Sorry." I don't respond though, allowing the man to continue dragging me wherever he wanted.

With my eyes trained on the beige carpet below my feet, I wasn't aware of the abrupt stop Krist was making, causing my body to slam into his. "Jesus..." My hand flies up to my nose, wincing at the pain.

"Rose," Shelli's soft voice made it subside though, "My turn." I look between the couple, feeling the color drain from my face at the realization of what this is. Before I could dart away, she grabs my hand in hers, tugging me away from my tall shield. "This isn't an intervention Rosemary... it's an apology train. I shouldn't have thrown the infertility in your face yesterday, especially when Dave was within earshot. I'm just glad he didn't overhear..."

A cat officially had my tongue. My mouth would open to respond, but no words would come out as Shelli firmly grips my shoulders. "You're my best friend Rose... I get it if you need some space because that was so fucking wrong of me to do. I am so beyond fucking sorr-"

"It's okay," I cut her off. Throwing my body into hers for a comforting hug. One thing I never want is to lose someone as important to me as Shelli; she's the only person in the world that I know I can trust with absolutely anything.

Her grip around me tightens, breathing in deeply as she tucks her face into my neck. "I love you Rosemary..."

"I love you too Shelli," I sigh, "I don't know what I'd ever do without you." Tears began brimming my eyes as she squeezes me again.

A chuckle came from the woman as she pulled away to wipe her own tears, "Probably fall off a cliff or something." Her eyes dart down the hallway, locking on who I guessed was the next person in the 'apology train' tonight. I follow her gaze, locking my own eyes on a pair of familiar blue ones that were only a few feet away, watching our encounter like a hawk. "Ready to move on?"

"Yeah..." She grabs my hand, leading me over to an anxiety ridden Kurt Cobain. His hands were stuffed in the front pockets of his ripped jeans as his body leans against the hallways paint chipped wall. Greasy red locks hang low over his face, tempting me to push them away once I'm within reach. "He thinks you hate him."

"So I've heard..."

Shelli gives my hand one more light squeeze, looking between Kurt and I skeptically, before retreating back in the direction we came from.

My body felt cold as I gave in, pushing the strands of hair away and ultimately causing our eyes to lock. Chills ran up my spine due to the habitual look that I've grown accustom to in the last two years. "I really fucked up."

"You think?" I hiss, "You fucking died Kurt. You were no longer breathing or conscious; what the fuck were you thinking?" My voice rose an octave as I yell at the red-haired man in front of me. "And that grin? What the fuck was that you cynical bastard?"

His eyebrows raise at my words, but the expression on his face continues to be passive; telling me that he truly wasn't hearing the words coming out of my mouth, only pretending to. "I don't know what I was thinking. I don't know what happened Rose..."

"Bullshit Cobain! Fucking bullshit!" I poke his chest with my pointer finger, feeling my anger beginning to boil over. "You knew exactly what you were doing when you shot up after that interview. Just like you do any other time you decide to put that shit inside your body!" With every word, my voice became harsher. "There are so many people who care about you Kurt Cobain. So fucking many people... None of them would want this for you. I don't want this for you."