Junkhead

Dirt

"I want you to scrape me from the walls
And go crazy like you've made me"

--Alice In Chains: 'Dirt'

Nicky never came back.

It had been three months. 

And Nicky still hasn't come back.

The band reunited, though.  Jerry and Layne had already written and recorded four complete songs.  Alice in Chains finally seemed to have re-discovered the old sound they had originated in the late 80's.  Mike Starr definitely was a help in re-capturing this glory, his bass tracks appearing so simple yet extremely difficult for amateur bassists to play.  Sean, of course, made these songs complete and sound even more heavy rock, yet bluesy, with his unique use of snares and kicks during his percussion solos.

Tonight, they had scheduled a gig at a bar nearby Layne and Jerry's place, which was in the heart of Seattle.  All four of them had decided to just play a selection of their old and popular songs, considering they hadn't toured together in six years.  They wanted to warm back up to the idea of playing live on stage again...and making sure Layne could handle it, unlike back in the 90's.

When they had arrived at the bar, Jerry kept his weary eyes on Layne as though it were his duty to baby-sit him.  The week following Nicky's departure was not taken well at all by Layne.  He had stopped eating and only woke up so he could drown his rejection with copious amounts of liquor.  Jerry didn't allow this to go on for very long though, taking all the alcohol out of Layne's reach and pouring all of the bottles down the drain.  He threatened Layne that if he continued to drink like he had, he would get kicked out of the house AND out of the band.  So Layne quickly caught on that Jerry wasn't bullshitting and quit drinking.  He had some withdrawals from it, considering he had drank every day for a month and a week, but they weren't life threatening.  Layne now just resorted to smoking herb with Jerry...and at times sneaking off with Mike and his girlfriend, Erica, to do pop some valium or xanax.

Everyone seemed so proud of Layne.  Even his mother came by to speak with him, and it went WELL.  The only issue was that, even though he was surrounded by friends and family now, he still felt alone.  He felt like he had gotten abandoned.  Every single night, he couldn't help himself but to wonder where Nicky had gone with their car. 

Did she take off across country?

Did she end up back in that rehab / psychiatric unit in the hospital?

.....
Is she dead...?

Layne shuddered at the idea.  He leaned back on the couch & puffed on the joint he had rolled before heading out with his bandmates.  He was backstage...alone, not even caring if Sean or Mike or Jerry needed help setting up the equipment and doing sound checks.  He could give a shit less at this point.  He honestly didn't even know why the fuck he decided to do this gig considering his singing voice still needed work.

Sighing, he took a long hit from his joint & lightly closed his eyes.  He ran a shaky hand through his curly bleach-blond hair.

He was nervous.  Fuck, more than nervous.  He was petrified.  He didn't want to fuck up on his first gig in over six years...  He knew that the media would be there and they would eat him ALIVE if they caught him messing up.

Exhaling the smoke, he grunted, setting the joint down and flicking his lighter on his cigarette.  His glassy eyes fixated on the smoke that twirled from the cherry of his cig, his mind wandering aimlessly around. Images flashed in his head of turquoise eyes and black and red hair.

"Layne!" Sean shouted, making Layne jolt from the couch, his red eyes bulging out from his face.

"Holy FUCK, you scared the shit out of me!"