twenty-seven.

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MARCH, 1988, SEATTLE, WA

              COINCIDENTALLY ENOUGH, LINDY'S birthday soon followed after Kurt's and on March 1st, everyone had once again gathered together to celebrate. Trae had even driven into town along with Allie for the occasion.

"How does it feel to be nineteen, Lindy?" Shelli asked happily, serving slices of cake at the tiny dining room table in the kitchen. Everyone had huddled there, pulling up spare chairs to talk, laugh and eat.

"Irrelevant," Lindy admitted. "Nineteen shouldn't even be an age. It's so pointless."

"Don't be in such a rush to grow up," Trae said, nudging at his sister's arm playfully.

"I'm not, but I wouldn't mind not being a teenager anymore," Lindy responded, grabbing her fork and spearing it into her cake slice. It was yellow cake with chocolate icing — her favorite, courtesy of Shelli.

"Good thing that Kurt doesn't mind teenagers, right?" Krist quipped with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Lindy grinned, looking at Kurt and expecting him to laugh, but he only smiled. Beneath his eyes were dark purple circles and he sat slouched in his chair, absentmindedly picking apart his cake with a fork.

Lindy frowned slightly, but knew in the back of her mind what had caused him to wind up in such a state. He had been pushing himself into overdrive with the band, booking gigs and doing everything that he possibly could to get their name out there to independent labels across the states.

They'd recorded a demo, a tape compromised of a few of Kurt's notable choices in songs, but this in itself had exhausted Kurt. From organizing the recording session to actually going through with it, he was practically swaying on his feet with exhaustion.

On top of this, he'd sworn off cigarettes and alcohol, insisting that they would do harm to his vocal chords. This had been perfectly alright with Lindy, as she too had been looking to quit smoking in preparation for her job as a nurse in the future. Plus, she'd been coughing too much. 

More talk around the table ensued but Lindy kept her eyes trained on Kurt, watching him as he tiredly zoned out from the conversation. More than anything, she wanted to retreat to his bedroom with him in tow and pass out together beneath layers of covers and darkness.

"Kurt, do you have an official name yet for the band, or are you still riding on Pen Cap Chew?" Trae asked, snapping Kurt of his sleepy trance. Kurt sat up a little straighter in his seat. Naturally, talk of the band would perk him up.

"Oh yeah, we have. We're called Nirvana."

"Nirvana? That's pretty," Allie commented. 

Lindy did her best not to giggle. She wasn't entirely sure that 'pretty' was the adjective Kurt wanted used to describe his band, but surprisingly, this compliment seemed to please him.

"Thanks. It's a Buddhist belief meaning 'attainment of perfection.'"

The night went on as everyone told stories and jokes, riling each other up and roaring so loud with laughter that the neighbors must have heard. Once the hands on Krist and Shelli's clock neared midnight, Trae finally stood from the table and announced that he and Allie had to start their drive back to Aberdeen.

Lindy walked them both outside, lumbering slowly off the porch and into the cool night. No matter how many times she did it, saying goodbye to her brother never got easier.

"Happy birthday, Linds," Trae said, hugging her tightly. "I hope it was a good one."

"Of course it was," Lindy reassured him, reaching to hug Allie.

IN THE SUN ↝ kurt cobainWhere stories live. Discover now