girl singing in the wreckage ✰ dave grohl

fifteen

she unlocked the door to her apartment, and as soon as dave stepped foot in it, he knew it was her own. band and movie posters, as well as prints and paintings were plastered wall to wall. she had a solid record collection stationed beside a record player, and he eyed the first couple of nirvana albums.

"you ever listen to them and remember... everything all at once?" he asked as he picked up the heart shaped box single, tracing a finger over the cover

"every once and a while." she began. "marigold always makes me cry. did you write it about..."

"yeah."

april walked over to the small kitchen, opening the fridge and retrieving the few ingredients she needed. as she prepared the food, dave appeared beside her, watching as she carefully folded the tortillas around the filling.

"my mom used to make these every friday for dinner. i learned from her." april mused.

"you never did talk about your family much, huh?" as dave said this, she paused momentarily before resuming making the quesadillas.

"it's a rough subject."

she finished up the quesadillas and put them on a plate, walking dave over to the small wooden table in front of her couch. she then walked over to her records, flicking through a couple before pulling one out. grace, by jeff buckley. she placed it onto the record player with side b facing up-- it was her favorite. his melancholy voice rang out seconds after she placed the needle on it, and she walked over to the couch, sitting next to dave.

they made small conversation while listening to hallelujah, and april smiled as the second track on side b came on-- lover, you should've come over.

"do you remember the night we met?" he asked all of a sudden, breaking through the silence that had formed in the dimly lit living room.

"you kidding? of course i fucking do."

"will you tell it to me? the way you remember?"

"it's been years. and its one in the morning." she sighed, rubbing her forehead as she tried not to look into his eyes.

"i know, but i've missed hearing your voice." he paused before letting out a breathy laugh that made her heart squeeze inside her chest. "and i'm a little stoned."

"and here i thought you were coming out with the sentimental shit. i should've known better, grohl."

"please. it's been years." he spoke softly, and she was afraid his voice would break. or maybe she was afraid hers would first.

"i know." she began, taking a breath before transporting her mind back to 1991. "okay, it was the night i stole my dads car..."

she continued by telling you most of what i have told you up to this point. up till around cherry's funeral, and when she left.

"you mind if i smoke?"

"go ahead."

he pulled a cigarette from a slightly squashed pack in his pocket.

"cigarette?"

he held the box of marlboros out to her. she could feel her hand start shaking.