OUT OF THE RED ↝ dave grohl

seventy-nine.

SEPTEMBER 9th, 1992, LOS ANGELES, CA

REAGAN KNEW THAT if Kate did not stop wriggling like an overexcited puppy that she would have to pinch her. She could practically feel the nervous buzz radiating off of her sister as she stood next to her, bouncing on the toes of her high-heeled shoes.

"Did you see that?" Kate breathed. "That was Madonna. Madonna actually just walked past me."

"Kate, c'mon," Reagan said. She switched Gracie to her other arm, balancing her on her jutted out hip.

"Can you blame me? You brought me here! A real awards show, with real celebrities!"

Reagan supposed that in some sense, Kate was right. She did have the right to gush over all the celebrities she wanted, though Reagan felt as if her and Kate were one in the same. Common folk, destined to always be on the outside looking in. She just didn't see the appeal in swooning over Marky Mark and his low-riding jeans.

With that being said, Reagan was relieved that she'd brought Kate to the VMA's that night. Although she was officially there as Dave's date to the awards show, Kate was by extension her date, as well as additional help in taking care of Gracie.

She hadn't been opposed to bringing Gracie to the show. When Dave had originally suggested it, Reagan had figured why not, thinking it would be better to bring Gracie with them instead of dumping her in the care of Sarah or another willing babysitter.

But then, Reagan had questioned why on earth she herself was even going. It was the first time that she was dipping her toes into the newfound world that Dave was in, the one that was candy-coated with lights and cameras and people begging for autographs. She felt light years away from her true self — the person who'd held a minimum wage job in a car repair shop and wore jeans that costed her five bucks. She doubted that any of the people present that night knew what it was like to be someone like her, someone who was perfectly average.

Reagan didn't feel like the wife of a celebrity that night. She felt like an old fraud playing dress up. The worst of her fears had already come true when an MTV employee had assumed her to be the on-duty nanny for one of the A-lister parents in attendance. That had been pretty mortifying, but Reagan recovered quickly, assuming it was better to be invisible than be attacked by a camera crew.

Dave would always be the firmest foundation of undeniable rightness in her life, but having Kate at the VMA's with her allowed Reagan to retain some sense of normalcy. Kate acted as a cord that bound Reagan to the real world, reminding her that she wasn't in some sort of flashy fever dream.

Besides, she couldn't have very well said no to Dave when he'd asked her to come. Her only stipulation had been that Kate come too and he'd satisfied the request immediately, ensuring that Kate got her very own special badge to wear around her neck backstage.

"When does the interview start?" Kate asked, her gaze sweeping over to where Kurt and Krist were standing, playfully shoving each-other underneath a crisply hot L.A. day.

"Should be any second now," Reagan replied. Dave kept flashing her the occasional grin, to which she'd reply with her own bashful half-smile.

"Frances looked so adorable earlier," Kate remarked. "She's so tiny. It reminds me of when Gracie was born."

Reagan thought of Kurt, remembering the picturesque image of him bottle feeding Frances with attentive precision. He hadn't looked as good as he did that day in almost a year. There was a healthy pallor restored to his skin and his eyes were brighter somehow, which could have only been attributed to the baby that he'd held in his arms.