YOU KNOW YOU'RE RIGHT // Kurt Cobain

Chapter 21

Anaheim, CA

March 8, 1994

I picked at my nails in the driver's seat of my Volvo Evergreen after parking it in a space in front of the Blind Rabbit bar in Anaheim. The owners had miraculously allowed us to perform in spite of our low key celebrity status. They even promised that they wouldn't allow any press into the joint, which was a huge relief to the both of us, because we had dealt with our fair share of time in the limelight, and that time only led to drama. And even though we had every accommodation we might need, I was still absolutely terrified.

It was as if Thomas read my mind, because he turned towards me from the passenger seat, reaching his hand out to squeeze my shoulder in reassurance. "Are you sure about this? We can still back out, this isn't a paid gig."

I exhaled, leaning into his touch. "No, I think I'll be okay, I'm just a bit nervous is all," I lied. What I really wanted to say was Thomas, I don't think I'll be able to perform because all I can think about right now is my ex rotting away in a Rome hospital after almost dying of a purposeful overdose, possible suicide attempt, and I can do nothing to stop it because I've convinced you that I've moved on from Kurt but all I want to do right now is be with him and help him through whatever the hell this is that he's dealing with. Which would not go over well. So I kept it to myself.

"Okay, well, the show starts in twenty minutes, and we've still got to do a sound check, so maybe start with unbuckling your seatbelt?" Thomas suggested, a sympathetic look painted across his face. He really knew how to get me through anything. He was my person. He kissed my lips quickly before getting out of the car to grab our guitars.

We walked into the bar, receiving a few trailing stares as we stepped onto the stage to get ourselves situated. Sound check went smoothly, and I was fairly certain that I looked alright, but my insides could be described as the atmosphere in Dante's Inferno. I felt like I was dying.

"Good evening," I spoke into the microphone and immediately froze up, realizing that was what Kurt-- enough about Kurt. This was not MTV Live and Unplugged. Thomas and I were there for the music, not to dwell on the past. "This song's called Prism Portrait."

I looked over at Thomas, who smiled at me, bringing me back to life again. He nodded, and I began to strum my acoustic.

A few songs went by, each one killing me a bit more. Everything was going so well. A part of me was glad it was, but on the other hand, things were going too good. My life was great while Kurt--

"This next song is written by and dedicated to my great friend, Kurt Cobain," I muttered into the mic, clearing my throat before continuing, my eyes flashing to Thomas for a split second. His eyes were the size of the moon. "He's in a hospital in Rome right now, recovering from a severe lapse in judgment involving pills. And he needs all of our support right now. And I'm offering him mine. This is All Apologies."

(A/N I'm imagining this as the cover)

As I began to play my guitar, by myself, with no backup, I felt more at peace than at any other point in the performance. I closed my eyes, imagining Kurt being here. I felt his presence in that bar, it was kind of spiritual.

Thomas joined in on vocal harmonies, and I felt myself smiling. We finished the song, earning a great amount of applause from the crowd. Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes, and I flicked them away quickly before regaining my grip on my guitar, continuing through the rest of the set.

Thomas and I walked off the stage, his hand grabbing mine. "Put down your guitar case," he commanded, and I did so as he grabbed a hold of my waist, pulling me through the backstage door. Our lips met immediately and passionately.

"You did an amazing job, E," Thomas praised, running his right hand through my hair, and I blushed, leaning my head against his shoulder. "Thank you, babe. You did, too."

"You okay?" Thomas asked me. His hands rubbing my back. I picked my head up to look him in the eye. "Never been better."

"Good," Thomas whispered, leading me towards him again.

***

I woke up to see coffee on my nightstand. Only opening one eye, I reached for the mug, grasping it with both hands once it was secure. I took a sip, sitting up and looking over to where Thomas was sitting, his glasses on. He was reading a Melody Maker tabloid- something he never did-- and his eyebrows were raised. And he was drinking his coffee out of a straw. Something weird was going on.

"What's up, T?" I asked, my voice scratchy. He glanced over at me, giving me a weak smile as he grabbed my hand. "Someone filmed yesterday's gig. And now it's all over the news. Specifically that little segment about Kurt and your cover of All Apologies."

Of course someone filmed the gig. Of course. I had been convinced that nothing would go wrong. But who was I kidding? We toured with Nirvana. And my love triangle with Kurt and Greg was no secret.

"Thomas, I am so, so sorry--" I began, but Thomas cut me off. "Don't apologize, this isn't affecting me. It's mostly affecting you and Kurt. And possibly his relationship with Courtney. Honestly, that performance might as well have been a bomb dropped between the two of them"

I turned my gaze forward, staring into space. Did I really just ruin their marriage? I really should have thought this through. I was always letting my emotions guide my decision making. The phone rang in the kitchen, making me jump. I walked out of our room to answer it, pulling the receiver to my ear. "Hello?"

"Erin," I heard Kurt breathe out on the other end, and chills went down my spine. "I heard your cover. You have no idea how thankful I am to you for that. Thank you so much. It made my day."

I felt myself beaming, and I was internally reminding myself over and over that this was Kurt I was talking to. And he was still in Rome. "You really liked it that much?"

I heard muffled voices in the background, and I tensed up. I got even more tense as Kurt spoke again. "I loved it. I love you. Why did we ever stop?"

"Kurt, I can't talk about this right now."

"But when will we be able to? No better time than now, really."

"Did I just hear you say 'Kurt'?" I watched as Thomas walked out of our bedroom to join me at the phone. "Yeah," I nodded.

"Can I talk to him?" he asked me, and I nearly fainted. Without waiting for a response from me, Thomas took the phone and pulled it to his ear.

"Hey, man! How are you?" Thomas smiled, and I just stared. How was he this chill?

"Good, good. Listen dude, I'm sorry about the performance, the decision to do All Apologies was on impulse--" Thomas went quiet to listen to Kurt. The suspense was killing me.

"Yeah, I'll tell her." Shit. Shitshitshit.

"Okay, we're sending our love to Frances. Take care, man." Thomas hung up, and turned towards me. Here we go, I thought.

"Kurt told me to tell you that he couldn't talk for long but he wanted you to know that he's coming home next week and wants to see you. I think this would be really good for you to have closure about this whole thing. I see how much it hurts you to see him like this."

Kurt didn't tell Thomas what he told me. Ignorance is bliss, if I don't say so myself.

A/N- WOW 10K READS! Thank y'all so much for the crazy amount of support!!! Ya girl just finished finals. I'm originally from NY and go to college in TN so while all my friends (locals) went home, I'm stuck on campus until the 28th and I'll be spending my birthday alone on the 27th hahahahaha :') So I'm hoping that writing this will make my time here seem shorter until I go home. Until the next chapter, ily, stay safe!

xoNyquil