YOU KNOW YOU'RE RIGHT // Kurt Cobain

Chapter 17

Portland, OR

October 29, 1991

Kurt pulled me into my bunk, wrapping his arms around my waist. I closed the space between us, running my hands through his blonde hair, tasting cigarettes and coffee. I swore I would never get tired of this, I wished it could have lasted forever.

Forever was cut short, because the second Kurt's fingers crept up my shirt, Greg walked in and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw us. "Hey, Greg, what's up?" I asked, and he just shrugged before heading to his bunk.

"Are you seriously still not talking to me? Greg, you have to be bigger than this, we're adults, and I made a mistake! How can it be that difficult just to talk to me?" I pleaded with him, and Greg stopped shuffling stuff around his bunk.

"I just think your decision making hasn't been the best lately. And you shouldn't blame me for not wanting to get involved," Greg replied, his first words to me in days, yet they dug into me like the prongs of a pitchfork.

"Oh please, you just can't accept the fact that she chose me over you," Kurt rolled his eyes, and in response I loosened his grip on me. I couldn't believe I was watching this petty war unfold between them. "I can't take this anymore, this is getting ridiculous," I exhaled, getting up out of the bunk and leaving Kurt and Greg to their own devices. I closed the door behind me and sat on the couch but I could still hear the conversation.

"And you expect me to believe that you just dropped Courtney like that? I saw the way you looked at her, and guess who Erin came to when you broke her heart? Me. She came to me." I was always a little bit nervous in regards to the possibility that he could still be somehow involved with Courtney, but I was shocked when Greg used me going to him as argumentative ammunition.

He went on for another minute or so talking about how we walked back to the trailer together, and how he had to comfort me, because Kurt wasn't there, followed by various implications that we spent the night together. A total lie.

"I dropped Courtney, Erin trusts me about that, and I trust my girlfriend enough that she wouldn't go to you in the way you're making it out to look like!"

Leaving the room still wasn't doing me any favors. I needed to go out.

***

I walked into Assaggio, a small, dim-lit Italian restaurant known for their homemade pasta. Especially for their ravioli. I could do with a good ass bowl of ravioli right about now. I needed any kind of distraction from the drama, and drugs were not my current preferred path of escape.

I ordered my ravioli and picked at my nails as I waited. Of course, I inevitably heard Smells Like Teen Spirit blaring from the small box TV in the far corner of the restaurant. I could never escape Kurt, no matter how hard I tried or where I went. I bet that even if he somehow died that his ghost would haunt me 24/7.

I jumped as I saw Greg walk into the restaurant. Could I not enjoy my ravioli in peace?

Apparently not.

"E, I know you probably don't want to hear from either of us right now, but I thought you should know this bit of information," he told me, his hands going in and out of his pockets as if he couldn't decide what to do with them.

I rolled my eyes. "What is it? You have two minutes."

Kurt claimed he's going to see his dealer but I heard him say 'Okay, I love you too, bye,' over the phone. I don't know what this means but you were so certain that Kurt wouldn't be cheating on you... are you sure about that? I mean, I'm just looking out for you, Erin."

"I," I took a deep breath, "can not believe that you are trying to turn me against Kurt. You really expect me to take your word after you pulled that shit earlier? Face it, Greg, Kurt's right. You're just jealous and insecure that I chose him and not you. Get out."

"But--" Greg began.

"Get out of here, Greg. You've said enough."

Greg retreated, his shoulders slumping, and I let out a sigh of relief. A few seconds later, though, my brief relaxed state came to an abrupt end when I felt myself suddenly getting nauseous, and I ran to the bathroom before vomiting into the toilet. Nothing was wrong with the ravioli, I thought. I stood up in front of the bathroom mirror for a minute before it hit me. I rushed out of the bathroom, paid my check with a giant tip for that good ass ravioli, and speed-walked to the pharmacy down the street.

***

During the show that night I could barely think straight as I jumped around the stage like a madwoman. I began to sing the opening lyrics to Bad Habit and I caught eye contact with Greg, who just smiled at me with an expression of You know that I'm right. Kurt isn't fooling anyone with his bullshit. I tore my gaze away from him and focused on what I was singing.

I'm too attached and it makes me insane, who has the knife to cut you out of my brain? I looked into the wings and saw Kurt standing there, leaning against the metal rods that held the lights in their place, giving me a different kind of smile that read I love you and only you, and I'm so proud of you. See, Greg? This is what I needed to focus on.

It was as if I jinxed myself, because I saw Courtney approach Kurt, hugging him from behind, and not so subtly placing a small white baggie into his thin hands. Oh, fuck this.

I ran up to the drums, jumping onto the platform and singing the bridge to the song, running my hand through Greg's hair to emphasize the stage romance, making our fans scream in adoration. Or horror. I couldn't tell.

We finished the song, and I lost it. I was so stressed. And worried. And angry. And slightly murderous. Long story short, I smashed my guitar. I saw my lovely pale yellow Fender explode into pieces, and I slightly regretted it as I watched myself destroy my most prized possession.

"Have a great rest of your night, Portland!" I yelled into the mic before I walked off the stage, and over to where Kurt was standing, his eyes wide with what looked like fear.

"So, want to explain to me why Courtney was here giving you heroin?" I asked, and Kurt's expression turned defensive.

"I told you I'd end my business relationship with her, but it's complicated, E. But look at yourself. I didn't even reciprocate Courtney's affection; I pushed her away as soon as she did it. But what did you do in response? You were all over Greg. Practice what you preach, babe," Kurt muttered the last sentence as he pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, lighting it and walking away. He stopped in his tracks, turning around and walking back over to me.

"You're sure nothing's happening between you and Greg?"

I nodded. I admit, that stage romance shit was petty as fuck, but besides that point, I didn't know what else I could do to convince him that nothing was happening. All I could do was deny it.

"Nothing is happening, Kurt."

"Okay," he looked satisfied with my answer, pressing his lips to mine for a few seconds before responding to Danny shouting "Nirvana up in five!"

As soon as Kurt left, I retreated to the bathroom to reveal my fate.

Almost a century later (in reality two minutes), I watched my world fall apart as one line turned into two.

Things just got a lot more complicated.