sixty-eight.

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NOVEMBER 18th, 1993, NEW YORK CITY, NY

        NEW YORK WAS bigger and more sprawling than Lindy could have ever imagined. The movies and television shows that she had seen portraying the city had not done it justice. She understood why it was place so greatly loved, but that didn't stop her from feeling overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people and tall buildings that casted shadows so dark and wide that they swallowed you up as you walked along the streets.

She also saw the city as a reflection of Kurt's distaste for his fame; ritzy places like this were wild, untamed and unnatural, far from representing anything close to home. There was an air of glamour in the city, an air that Kurt himself did not, and would probably never, possess.

He had gone the extra mile to ensure that Lindy's trip was well worth her efforts to be there. He had booked her a room in an overly-expensive hotel on Fifth Avenue called The Peninsula. Lindy had found this funny when he himself despised staying in any hotel with a rating three stars or higher. In a gesture that had made Lindy blush pink, Kurt had arranged for a bottle of wine and bundle of roses to be left on the hotel room desk when she arrived. A note attached to the gifts simply had the letters "k.c. + l.c." etched onto it in familiar writing.

After tracing the note over and over with her fingertip, she'd uncorked the wine and drank it straight from the bottle as she'd sat on the edge of the huge king-sized bed. It was strange getting to see this glimpse of Kurt's life, the side of his world that was limitless and fancy and offering every opportunity under the sun on a silver platter.

More than anything, she wished that she was there with her. As she had kicked off her dirtied sneakers and curled up against the fluffy golden pillows, she had known that they could have been misfits together in this strange, elegant place. They would have been the kids from Aberdeen, raised on the throne of poverty and hardship. Being there alone only made Lindy feel more out of place. 

The hotel was conveniently close to Sony Music Studios where she'd be watching Nirvana perform. For the occasion, Krist was to be escorting her to the venue.

On the day of the show, Krist arrived early to pick her up. He looked handsomely disheveled in his grey long sleeve shirt that was unbuttoned down to his chest. He was growing his hair out again; it was a fluffy mess on his head.

"Krist," Lindy said happily as soon as she opened her hotel door. She enveloped her old friend into a hug, pleased to see a familiar face in the midst of all the unfamiliarity that being in New York had brought her. 

"You look great Lindy," Krist remarked, pulling back to admire her choice of clothes.

While she had not know how to dress for an event thrown by MTV, she'd finally gone with something nicer than her usual jeans and a t-shirt. That night, Lindy wore an off the shoulder dress with long sleeves, its hem brushing above her knees. The soft cotton material of the dress was black with tiny patterns of intertwining white roses. She had purchased it in Seattle just for the performance, shortly before she had left. Over her arm was a coat, a necessary addition to her outfit to combat the city's chilly weather.

"Thanks, I had no idea what I was doing," Lindy joked, grabbing her cross-body purse and shutting her hotel door behind her. Krist playfully touched the barrette in her hair that secured half of it up behind her head.

"Your hair looks pretty like this," he mused. Lindy raised a single eyebrow.

"Are you trying to make me feel better about what's about to happen?"

Krist laughed, wrapping an arm around Lindy in a comforting way. "Sort of. I know you're nervous, especially since Courtney will be there. It's going to be okay though."

IN THE SUN ↝ kurt cobainWhere stories live. Discover now