"Everything Fades In Time, It's True"
Present
Toronto, ON
My lungs fill with smoke as I stare out at the calming Toronto skyline, absentmindedly flicking away ashes as my cigarette burns out on its own.
When I moved here in 2008, the goal was to leave my past life behind. Forget about the 90s like they have me over time, but I don't see that being much of an option anymore.
For a while, it seemed like things were finally going to get better.
I had quit smoking with the help of my brother and Frances, built my own recording studio from the ground up, made a name for myself in the industry, and finally accepted the fact that I needed help from a trauma therapist. Every aspect of my life was moving in a more positive direction until 'Wasting Light' was released to the public.
My curiosity got the best of my one afternoon in Target. It had been a few years since I saw anything from the Foo's, and for a while I thought they had taken a hiatus to raise their children in peace. The black and pink cover design was compelling enough to make me reach for it, and to this day still I regret it.
Every degrading memory and negative emotion returned at the mere sight of 'Dear Rosemary' in bold ink. My inner demons deciding that it was the perfect time to flash me back to Nirvana's messy 1992 dressing room in Dublin where I first laid eyes on the blue notebook with Kurt's messy handwriting inside.
Dear Rosemary,
...
What a shitty way to catch your ex-girlfriend off guard David...
My pack of red Marlboro's sits half empty on the railing next to me, a glaring reality that I'd broken my promise to Frances in just a few short hours. If she wasn't out with Amy right now, there's no doubt in my mind that she'd have my head on a platter for fueling my inner nicotine addict.
The two of us renounced the habit together, and now I don't think I'll ever be able to stop again.
As I light up yet another cancer stick, I can't help but glance at the five paparazzi members stationed on the street below. They seem bored, uninterested even, due to the lack of action.
A part of me wants to waltz down there with my cheap bottle of Titos and give them the story they're looking for. The heartbroken music producer who drinks herself to sleep every night because she misses her big bad Hollywood boyfriend, but that wouldn't be the truth.
It would just place me in an even worse spot with my lawyers than I already am since they're trying their damnedest to ward off unwanted press.
"Hey..." I recognize Casey's calm voice as she crawls through the open window to join me on the fire escape. "I'm here if you want to talk."
I roll my eyes before taking a drag, "I don't need a therapist."
"No, you need a friend." Her statement is one of finality as she picks up the small white and red box next to me, taking notice of its emptiness before sliding the pack into my jacket pocket. "I'm here for you Rose... I've got your back."
When I don't say anything, the red-haired girl latches onto my wrist with her hand. Something is forcibly placed between my thumb and pointer fingers before she pulls away completely, staring me in the eye expectantly.
"If you plan to make it through to the other side of this, you need to get the full story." My heart plummets to my stomach as I catch sight of the familiar black and pink CD case. "You don't have the balls to call Dave and ask him for answers directly, but you studied enough music theory and lyrical writing courses at Syracuse to find these answers on your own."
My friend's hazel eyes reflect as a shade of gold in the sunlight, "Casey..."
"Stop making excuses and help yourself for once Rosemary."
-------
January 5, 1997
Washington D.C.
My hands sift through the crate labeled 'Best of 1996' in hopes of getting a good deal on last year's Billboard top 200 albums.
As I pull out Alanis Morissette's 'Jagged Little Pill', it almost slips through my fingers when a familiar voice whispers into my ear, "Still adding to that record collection I see..."
"Jesus." My fingers tighten around the top half of the paper vinyl sleeve, preventing the disastrous end that could've occurred had my reaction time been any slower.
Dave leaned his hip against the wooden rectangular table as I delicately place the rather expensive record back in its original place. Preventative measures to steer clear from the musician's chaotic nature. "Damn it, still? I cut my hair off so that nickname would go away..."
"I think it's the universes way of telling you something then stalker." The name wasn't a serious jab, he could tell from the kind smile on my face as I wrap my arm around the two 12" vinyl's I'd chosen earlier.
"Maybe so." We share a moment of silence as his eyes trail over the various labels in the multicolored crates. "So, there's a party at Jimmy's tonight if you'd like to come hang with us. Like old time."
The thought of visiting our old friend tugs on my heart strings, but deep down I knew I couldn't accept his offer. He was asking so he could get more time with me, and that's not something either of us need. "I don't think it's a good idea... Thanks for the invite though."
Dave leans forward, resting his right elbow onto the crates for balance. "Are you single?"
"Something like that..." It's not a complete lie. Liam and I are 'together', but I haven't heard from the guy since we left campus.
Which is probably my fault since I never actually read the note he left on my door...
His brown eyes stare into my blue ones for a second before he straightens himself back up. "Can you go for a walk?"
"You're married."
"Separated," He points out matter of factly, "And I just want to talk."
My eyes shift down to the white floors, "Haven't we done enough talking these last couple of days? We aren't friends Dave."
"Who's to say we can't be though?" By now he's pleading for me to take this walk with him, and while the rational side of my brain is telling me to turn and walk in the other direction, the irrational side convinces me to give the guy a chance.
"Just... let me pay for these and we can go." My words were like music to the man's ears as he steps aside to let me walk up to the check-out counter.
I am shocked though when the worker sticks their hand up to stop me. "You're taken care of. If you want that Alanis album, you can take that as well."
"Wait," my eyebrows scrunch together in confusion, "You must have the wrong person. I haven't been up here to pay yet."
The kids hand shoots up, thumb pointing in the direction of the front doors where I can see Dave smoking a cigarette as he waits. "That crazy asshole gave me fifty bucks. You're taken care of."
"Fucking hell..." I grab the two records off the countertop, grumbling under my breath before turning around to grab the Alanis one as well. While most girls would swoon over the idea of Dave Grohl purchasing vinyl for them, I detest the idea.
Now I owe him.
As I walk out of the famous record store, I don't stop as I pass the confused singer. Choosing to save the last amount of dignity I have by walking away with my head held high. "Rose, where are you going?"
"Away from you."
"What?" His tone is exasperated as a calloused hand wraps loosely around my bicep to stop me. "What's wrong?"
I pass the records over, pressing them to the man's chest until he takes hold of them. "This is wrong Dave."
"How is this wrong Rose? I'm just trying to do something nice for you."
I can't help but pinch the bridge of my nose. "Well stop. It's weird."
"It's not weird."
A couple pass by us, falling silent and sharing a worried glance before looking away. "It is weird. We haven't seen one another for almost three years, and you expect me to just accept records from you? It's not happening Dave."
"I'm not trying to be weird about this Rose." He pushes the three items back into my hands before rubbing his eyes with his thumb and pointer fingers. "I figured that we were on good terms again after Christmas. Plus, it's not like I have other things to spend my money on. Just think of it as a late Christmas present from my family."
My grip tightens on the three items before I tuck them under my arm, choosing to save them from any possible damage to come. "You're infuriating at times David."
"Well I'm sorry Rosemary." His features soften and his brown eyes lock on his black high-tops. "I'm sorry for everything."
My hand comes up to silence him, "Don't... We were too fucking young Dave. What happened in the last years of our relationship is over and done with. I was pissed for the longest time, but I've grown up and moved on from it." I shock myself with the words that are leaving my mouth, "I have more important things to worry about than the fact that you gave my engagement ring to another woman less than twenty-four hours after we broke up."
"I fucked up Rose, and now you're here with me and I just..."
"I wasn't innocent in this either." My eyes scan the surrounding area to make sure we are alone before I let the next words come out of my mouth. "You were fucking Jennifer behind my back and I was falling for Kurt right in front of your eyes. It's fucking understandable why you did what you did." The mention of the deceased singer immediately puts a damper on my mood, "God I miss him..."
Dave and I both fall up against the nearby brick and mortar wall, keeping about a foot between us. "You aren't the only one. These last two years haven't been smooth sailing for me either. Yeah, the band is doing well and everything, but the fans always want me to play Nirvana songs and the first question in every interview is about him..."
"He's being called the 'King of Grunge'," I smirk up at the former drummer, "He would've hated it."
Both of us share a laugh before I pull a cigarette out from my back pocket, accepting his offer to light it for me. "You're studying sound engineering, right? I remember talking to Ian not long after you started school about it."
"You talked to Ian about me?"
The brunette shrugs, "Sometimes I get curious, I guess... But you are studying that right? So you can work up to being a producer?"
"Yeah, that's the goal." His questions leave me wondering why he needs to know this information. "I'm working on my applications for post graduate internships now."
He takes his bottom lip between his teeth, internally debating something before leaving me speechless once again. "What's your schedule like at the end of February?"
"I'll uh have classes, why?"
"We're moving our recording to LA." Dave steals my cigarette from my hand, taking a drag himself before handing it back to me. "It would be cool to get your opinion on some things. Maybe even a producer credit for school along the way."
I feel nothing but shock as I stare blankly up at the older man. What am I supposed to say to that? It's the opportunity of a lifetime, but he is still my ex. Things could get ugly really fast if we aren't professional about this agreement, but I could really use the credit to boost my applications....
"No funny business." My voice is taut with seriousness as I stare him down. "Just work."
He nods, "Just work... And maybe a beer or two."
"Work."
His lips purse at my words, but he reluctantly nods. "Just work."
"Can I call you when I get back to school to schedule?"