Live Through This [Kurtney fan-fic]

Live Through This [PT. 1]

“Frances, come on! I need to get you dressed!”

I’ve spent the better half of the past hour giving, or more like trying to give, my daughter a bath and now that I’ve finally accomplished that she’s refusing to let me dress her! It’s damn near impossible to deal with her when she’s so fussy. I can’t be too aggravated at her though, the poor baby just misses Kurt. He’s been on tour for, god, 24 days now! This has been the longest I’ve went without seeing him since we’ve been married. It’s rougher on Frances though, she’s used to having her daddy around to help with bathing & dressing her. Most of all I think she misses Kurt singing her to sleep at night. He calls to send his love but it’s just not the same as having him here with us. I’ve got to laugh at myself for that. I practically had to force him to go and now I’m sulking that he’s gone! As much as he dreaded going on another tour, and as much as I hated to see him leave there’s no denying we need the money.

“Focus, Courtney,” I tell myself, “You’ve got a daughter to dress.”

I snap back into reality to find that Frances has climbed her little naked butt up onto the couch. She’s smiling at me, as if she considers this all a game. I walk over and plop myself down on the empty cushion next to her. It’s not even 5 pm yet but I think it’s apparent that we’re both pooped. She lets out a yawn as I slip her into her diaper and an over-sized pajama shirt. I can’t help but grin at her, in these baggy clothes and with her big blue eyes she looks more like Kurt than ever. I probably could’ve lain on that couch with Frances Bean for the rest of the night to be honest, but I only got to for about 5 minutes before the phone started to ring. Glancing over at the clock (4:47 pm) I knew it must be Kurt calling before bed. He’s about 9 hours ahead of us on Nirvana’s European tour so “goodnight” always comes a little early these days. Suddenly overcome with energy, I rush over to the phone.

“Hello?”

Nothing.

“Uhm... Hello?” I ask again, and this time I hear a slight whimper from the other end, “Kurt?”

“Oh, Courtney!” he sobs into the phone, “I don’t want to be here anymore!”

“Err, Kurt?” I walk out of ear shot so Frances can’t hear, “What’s going on? Are you alright?”

“I can’t do this, I just can’t. It was humiliating!”

My expectations of a sweet and well needed conversation with my husband soon disappear as he continues on and tells me the events of the night that have gotten him so upset. Nirvana’s scheduled show in Madrid started out normal enough but ended up going downhill fast. Teenage fans throughout the crowd began smoking heroin on foil and yelling “Kurt! Smack!” during the whole set, even raising their thumbs to him as if they were doing it in his honor, like they were saying “This one’s for you, Kurt!” I can only imagine how he must have felt up there. He’s always wanted an influence on his fans, but nothing like that! He never wanted his own drug use to conflict with the message his music gives and he sure as hell wouldn't want anyone doing heroin just because he did. Having been an addict myself I know first hand how shameful the topic can be. Not only is he feeling embarrassed after tonight’s performance but he’s also been sick for some time now. He’s recently been diagnosed with not only laryngitis but also bronchitis. I try and give him a pep talk but he’s not buying it. The only way I could even convince him not to buy a plane ticket home right then and there was to promise him that Frances and I would fly out as soon as possible and visit him. I get off the phone feeling both upset and angry. Why are people so fucking ignorant? What, if anything, would make those kids think that would be a funny thing to do? Before I get too fired up I remember Frances on the couch. I hung up with Kurt before she got a chance to talk to him! I walk back in to see she's asleep anyway. Oh well, we’ll be seeing him soon enough...