Louder Than Love || Chris Cornell

She's Going To Change The World

Seattle Washington, March 4 1993

"Ugh... do we really have to do this interview...?" Chris sniffs as he stands by the front door waiting for me to grab my planner. Chris has been fighting off a cold for the last week and I swear to god, if you want your husband to be a baby, just let him catch a cold. It will make your life amazing!

"Yes... the interview was set up with RIP magazine weeks ago, so we can't cancel now," I say as I walk over to him and grab my bag to stuff my planner in. As I reach for my leather jacket, Chris let's out the loudest sneeze that made me jump.
"Fuck... I neeb a Kleenex," He says completely stuffed, holding his hands over his nose and hurries into the kitchen for some tissues to clean himself.

"Uh... I can't breathe..." He calls from the kitchen, muffled as he wipes his nose. I let out a frustrated exhale,  though I don't mean to be frustrated. I'm feeling irritated and I don't know why, but if he complains one more time about his nose, I'm going to flip. I quickly throw on my jacket and sling my bag over my shoulder as he comes out of the kitchen blowing his nose some more and letting out another sneeze.

"Do you hab my allergy stuff...?" Chris sniffs as he walks back up to me.
"In my bag," I say sarcastically and reach in my bag to grab him an anti-histamine.
"Ok, you don't need to be so moody... I can't fucking help it that I'm sick," Chris looks annoyed at me and takes the packet.
"Sorry... we're going to be late..." I say trying to not sound annoyed but it's hard when he's been driving me insane for the last week. I grab my keys off the table by the front door and head out to the front porch. He gives me a weird look and then follows me out the door.

The magazine interview was set up at Murphy's pub downtown and so I was excited to grab a basket of those delicious fries and onion dip while the interview took place. During the drive downtown, Chris could not stop sneezing and blowing his nose in which I tried to not let it annoy me but he was really trying my patience.

"Did you not take the anti-histamine I just gave you...?" I ask.
"Yea... I don't know why it's not workig... and why the hell are you snappig at me?' Chris retorts, his nose still stuffed which makes him not able to pronounce his 'N's and 'M's' as we make our way down the road. I look out the windshield and avoid his question because all I want to do is just get away from him or yell at him or both. It's a very complicated emotion I'm feeling right now.

"Great, now we're fucking late..." I say as I glance at the digital clock on the dashboard.
"Well fuck, sorry I had to drag myself outta bed which is where I really want to be instead of answering stupid fucking questions that have been asked so many fuckig tibes before..." He says looking at me with a hardened expression.

"I couldn't cancel it,"

"You shoulda tried harder," Chris retorts as we come up to a stoplight.
"You know you could call Susan too and ask to cancel things, it doesn't always have to be me that talks to her," I say annoyed.
"But you're the P.A... you're supposed to do those thigs, that's your job," Chris remarks.
"So I'm your P.A all the time... even when your not on tour?" I ask sarcastically looking at him.

"No... you're my wife all the tibe -'

"So, because I'm your wife I'm just supposed to do everything for you?" I say angered.

"No, that's not what I'mb saying,"

"Sure fucking sounds like that's what your saying," I say and look out the windshield.
"Andi, what the fuck is your probleb? Why are you so full of fuckig attitude?," Chris says louder and more annoyed.
"I'm just hungry and we're late," I say still looking out the windshield.
"Well fucking loose the snarkiness alright? I'm not in the fuckig mood to deal with your bitchiness and then go into this interview pretendig to be happy to be there, when I'd rather be in bed sleepig this off...!" Chris yells and I just stare out the windshield.