Walking After You | Dave Grohl

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NESSA STOOD AT the venue's door for thirty minutes before actually going in. She smoked cigarette after cigarette, hoping that the nicotine would smother her anxiety somehow. And when she finally built up the courage to go in, Nirvana was already playing, their music blasting from the speakers so loud that the floor under her feet was pulsating.

Despite the pass Dave had kindly sent her in the mail, Nessa wasn't brave to go in through the backstage door right away, opting to blend into the general audience instead. She didn't know what to expect of him, or what to expect from their first conversation in years, and the last thing she wanted was for Dave to spot her first.

At least that way she could somehow prepare herself for that moment. Something that she wasn't prepared to face, however, was the magnitude of the show. The crowd was erratic, moving from side to side like waves in the ocean, filling the venue to the brim. There were so many people that Nessa barely could see her own feet, and she almost felt like she was drowning in the mass of people surrounding her.

They were playing their fourth or fifth song of the evening, but everyone's energy was still dialed up to the maximum.

Nessa looked around, grasping her surroundings, and was surprised by the people forming the crowd. These weren't the typical kids from DC's punk rock scene. They looked just like typical kids, jocks even, dressed in flannel shirts and Reebok shoes, belting Nirvana's lyrics with pride and joy.

And on the stage, the three guys played with passion, lighting the room in a way that Nessa had never seen before.

Standing there with fishnet tights under a black leather dress, items she hadn't touched in years, Nessa almost felt like an outsider. Dressing like her teenage self had made her feel confident and young at home, but now she felt weird and flamboyant. Maybe her boring teaching clothes would have been more appropriate.

At the center of the stage, she spotted him. Nessa couldn't see Dave's face clearly, because he bounced his head up and down to the rhythm of the beat, and his stringy long hair covered his expression, but it was him. An older version of him, with sharper facial lines, but still him.

The familiarity made her nervous. Even though he looked pretty much like the boy she had met before, four years had passed since the last time they saw each other. Dave had lived the equivalent of a lifetime of adventures by then, and those had most likely changed him to some extent.

She hated showing vulnerability. Nessa had decided from a young age to keep her emotions to herself because that's how she managed to deal with them. Dave, in a matter of a couple of days, had managed to break into her walls, but those had been built up right back after he left. No one had even come close after that.

As the end of the set neared, when the band began trashing the stage and the equipment, Nessa took a deep breath and finally made her way to the back of the stage. She waited nervously for him, her eyes expectantly focused on the black curtain.

A few minutes passed until the boys arrived. Her heart pounded fast in her chest as one after the other they pushed the curtain aside and came into her view. First, the tall brunette. Then, the blonde singer. And lastly, with his head sunken and drenched in sweat, followed Dave.

The wind got knocked out of her once their eyes met. At first, Dave seemed surprised, looking her up and down almost in disbelief. Time had been good to her. Nessa still looked young, partially because of her short height, but her features had matured. Her hair was now a long curly bob, cascading in defined brown and caramel curls that made her brown eyes stand out.