Stomach Pains (KURT COBAIN)

brotherhood

"they're called JFA," he said once i was in his car.
"what's that stand for?" i asked, looking through his cassettes for something we would both like.
"Jodi Foster's Army," he laughed a bit.
"wonderful! she needs it."

we pulled up to the venue in his beat up silver car.
"i got the trash out of it before i picked you up. are you proud of me?" he giggled.
"oh truly."

"5 dollars." a tiny guy with long black hair said, and kurt gave him a 10 dollar bill.
it was a little venue, with a 6 inch stage and graffiti littering the walls. glitter and dirt and outdated green corduroy couches.
kurt spoke to me against the buzz of the others, against the buzz of his presence, and i guess my presence too.
"they're a skate punk band. they're really neat," he said, lightly grabbing my finger with his own.
"see; nobody came to seattle before grunge. nobody thought it was worth it. it was like chapel hill or something. but chapel hill is pretty cool too,"

"kurt!" someone yelled. he grabbed me a ducked behind a big guy. the guy turned a bit and smiled down at us and carried on his conversation with another guy.

"i just want to be able to do things without being bothered. turns you into a recluse." he said. the already low lights dimmed and 4 guys walked through the crowd and stepped onto the tiny stage. roaring guitar and ugly drums. the only way to have music. the crowd surged, jumped, yelled, laughed, shoved into each other's sides like brothers who haven't seen each other in years. our scene wasn't the biggest, or the coolest, or scariest, but we loved each other. we were truly the family some of them had never had.

the show was over and bodies poured out the two exits. drenched in other people's sweat, kurt and i did too.

"i was thinking about going back to my drummer's house. do you want to come?" he asked. i looked at his watch and nodded.
"that'd be cool," i said, looking through his tapes. i popped a minor threat tape into the player and it began playing.

big brown eyes, long dark hair. he was taller than kurt but not by much, and he hugged him while we stepped in the door.

inside, there was matted carpet, a blond woman leaned up against a very tall man's shoulder.

another very tall man, with short dark hair sitting beside them. 

"who's this?" the man with long dark hair asked.
"oh yeah, this is heidi," kurt said, wrapping his arm around my shoulders triumphantly.

"i'm dave." the man with long dark hair said.

"and that's krist, our bassist," he said, pointing at the very tall man on the other side of the all american couple.

"i'm kim and this is thurston." the woman spoke before dave could introduce them.

"nice to meet you guys, sonic youth, right?" i asked, kim nodded.