Courtney Love... what a confusing person she is...
A lot of people think she killed Kurt. Other people say she had nothing to do with it (including the AIC:Untold Story documentarial book...) I personally don't know what to believe anymore... she did some questionable things after Kurt's death for sure, stuff that really makes me cringe 😬
Anyways, for the sake of the story, I'm leaving it vague, though am leaning more towards her having nothing to do with it... I'd rather believe that there isn't always evil in the world... :(
It is factual apparently that she did reach out to Layne... this is how I believe she would've acted around him, and vice-versa.
On to the story...
***
May 3, 1994: Seattle, WA, USA
Maybe I shouldn't have given her my address...
Layne tries to ignore the rapid knocking at the door.
He doesn't know why he's ignoring the people close to him, and opting to talk to a complete stranger instead... maybe it's just because he's bored, or he knows that a stranger wouldn't judge him for his current state, eye him with pity...
She didn't know him. She would have no right to judge him.
And, y'know, he wouldn't feel badly if she did.
She was nothing to him.
Sighing, he stands up from his bed, closing the door to the bathroom - which is littered with heroin paraphernalia - and undoes the lock on his hotel door.
In the hallways stands a woman Layne has only ever seen on TV and album covers.
Her short blonde hair falls in messy curls, her blue-green eyes like dark shadows against her pale skin.
Courtney Love.
"So..." she trails off, looking him up and down. "You're Layne? Huh... shaggier than I thought you'd be."
Layne runs a hand through his hair, instinctively thinning the gap between the door and its frame. "I... uh..."
Impatiently, Courtney shoves past him and into the hotel room.
Layne's heart nearly leaps out of his chest.
Who the hell-
What the-
"You do know me, don't you?" she says expectantly, tilting her head as she plops herself down on the edge of Layne's bed, one leg crossed over the other.
"Yeah," Layne mumbles, awkwardly standing across from her after having closed the door to the room. "You're Kurt's wife."
"Fuck you," Courtney spits, glaring defiantly at him. "I'm not 'Kurt's wife'. I'm my own fucking person. God, that's all anyone ever calls me these days..."
"Great," Layne rolls his eyes, crossing his arms. "So, why're you here? What did you want to talk to me about so badly that you had to harass my relatives?"
Courtney narrows her eyes at him. "I didn't 'harass' your relatives. Maybe if you weren't such a fucking recluse, I wouldn't have had to wait this long to talk to you."
Layne heaves an exasperated sigh. "Get the fuck on with it."
Courtney stands to face him, nearly shocking Layne by how tall she is- it doesn't help that she's in heels.
"You knew Kurt, right? You two were... 'friends'?" she asks, staring daggers into him.
Despite being four inches taller than her, in his withered state, Layne forces himself not to cower. "No... well, I-"
YOU ARE READING
Even Now
Fanfiction**Discontinued :( The year is 1993. Heroin addict Layne Staley of Seattle rock band Alice In Chains has just had the fear of God put into him following a bandmate's overdose. When faced with a simple decision, the butterfly effect comes into play...
