False Starts || Dave Grohl

Prologue

"Rosemary, You're Part Of Me"

October 2010

Los Angeles, CA

In life, there eventually comes a day where every adult realizes how old they truly are. Whether it be from noticing wrinkles on their once flawless skin, their hair turning various shades of gray, or aching joints that seem to worsen with time. You look in the mirror, expecting to see the reflection of your former self, but are taken aback by the middle aged figure.

Forty-one year old David Eric Grohl was no exception.

The frontman sat atop a broken barstool in his vacant home studio, a tattered spiral notebook only feet away as he stared out a nearby window. For ten years, the brunette managed to successfully bury his past, but the discovery of one small ring changed everything.

One month prior to the recording of their seventh studio album, Dave and his longtime partner in crime, Taylor Hawkins, stumbled upon the princess cut diamond while at Studio 606.

The band's private recording studio in Northridge, California is home to countless memorabilia, varying from the pillows Virginia Grohl made from Dave's retired band tees to the Foo Fighters most recent Grammy award. If something were lost, it most likely would be found there.

However, this item hadn't been lost. Rather, forgotten over time.

While rummaging through a crate of tangled cables, Taylor caught sight of an out of place duffle bag tucked away in the band's old tour equipment; dragging it out when his curiosity got the best of him. Not a single member of the band would ever store their gear in something so flimsy, so the drummer thought it could only be one thing.

Weed.

A secret stash kept in the studio for them long, stress filled days of recording. His hand eagerly gripped the zipper, nearly ripping it from the bag's metal teeth, but was disappointed to find that not a single nugget was present. Instead, his brown eyes found a name he hadn't seen or heard since his overdose in 2001.

Rosemary Ann Pierce.

Letters upon letters marked 'return to sender' were stacked in the black duffle bag, and before the thirty-eight year old could hide the evidence, Dave caught him red handed.

Gradually, memories of the musician's first love returned, burning the bridge between he and his current wife, Jordyn.

While strumming a set of familiar power chords, Dave's eyes slid shut, embracing the song that would eventually throw an impossible curveball into his life. 'Wasting Light' as a whole is an album that - if critically analyzed - would cause the male problems, but he selected the songs anyway.

"I couldn't grow just a-livin in the shadow. Where do you go when no one's following you?" The lyrics were whispered, unlike their strong presence in the recording. "You ran away, ran away, it was right on cue..."

The garage door clicked shut as Dave let out a frustrated groan, running his fingers through his dark hair. He didn't have to face the intruder to know it was Taylor, having grown accustomed to his presence over the course of thirteen years.

"Are you sure this is a good idea man?" The blonde squatted in front of his best friend in an effort to look him in the eye, knees popping from the quick movement.

Dave acknowledged that even Taylor had managed to age under his watchful eye, muscles becoming less defined and crows feet extending from the corners of his curious eyes. A lot can change in thirteen years..

"What are you talking about, T?" The frontman knew exactly why his closest friend was concerned. Anyone who collaborated on 'Wasting Light' knew.

As the younger male shook his head, he couldn't help but pity his former friend, knowing this album would destroy her. "Cut the shit Disco. You know what and who I'm talking about. You weren't the only member of this band who cared about her."