DIRT: the grunge diaries - Bessie's diary

Entry 33 - Burden in my Hand

WARNING! 18+ READERS ONLY - MENTIONS OF DRUG USE AND SEXUAL CONTENT.

Bessie

What the hell is wrong with you Bess?

You snorted cocaine with Cantrell last night and called out another guys name during sex....real cool. I've never called out another guys name before when I'm doing the deed with someone else, I'm usually real careful with that stuff, but my desire to have Stone Gossard ram me from behind was strong last night.

I'm currently waking up to sunshine beaming through the curtains, the sound of the shower, and a major fucking headache. I sit up in bed and look at the time. 10:14.

I know the guys are headed to Denver today, and I will be going with them. Or at least that was the plan before Cantrell stormed out last night. I went to sleep, worrying that he's made me pregnant and also worrying that I'd hurt him. Sure, I'm a groupie, but I'm not a heartless one, and I do care about the people I'm with. I hold my head in my hands and try to shift this awful feeling, which is inevitably done by my own hand. The cocaine does this to me every time I take it, and although you think I would have learnt my lesson, apparently that's fools thinking. I take it for a good time and in that moment it makes all my troubles disappear, I feel great while riding the high of it, but when I crash...I crash real fucking hard.

I hear the shower stop running and moments later the door to the bathroom opens, and out walks Cantrell, a towel around his waist and his long, wet hair draping over his back and shoulders. He looks at me and grabs his packet of cigarettes from the side, retrieving one, and looking around to find his lighter. I look at the bedside and notice it's there, so I take it and throw it to him, which he expertly catches with his right hand. He lights the end of the cigarette and throws the lighter on the side once he's done with it, before taking a deep draw and blowing the smoke out momentarily.

"Are you okay?" I ask, checking to see how he's feeling.

He shrugs and then pulls on his Gruntruck shirt, and grabs his hair from his back, through the neck of the shirt, so it falls over the top of his clothing.

"You're not gonna call me Vedder or Staley? Or Gossard?" Jerry says totally seriously, but with a sarcastic tone.

I take a deep breath, "I'm sorry Jer, you know I didn't mean it. I get all fucked up on coke, it was just a slip of the tongue."

"Stone sounds very fucking different to Jerry...slip of the tongue is highly unlikely." he replies before taking off his towel, revealing his huge manhood, before pulling on his boxers.

"Fuck Jerry! I am a groupie...how many times do I have to say it? I don't have anything to prove to you." I say back to him.

I rub my forehead with my hand, in so much pain that it's hard to actually think straight.

"Yeah...I know...I just....I fucking love you. I poured my heart out to you Bess, about how I really feel and you call out some guys name, that isn't mine. It fucking hurt." Jerry says, realising I have a point.

I never said I love him, I never claimed to love him and I don't plan on it. We have great chemistry together, that's for sure, but I don't see him as anything else but a friend and a fuck buddy.

He walks over to me and sits next to me on the bed, where he notices I'm struggling with the come down.

"Bess, you okay?" he asks, putting his index finger under my chin and lifting my head up. He looks into my eyes and knows instantly it's because of the coke. 

"I'll be okay, just need some painkillers..." I faintly reply.

"This happened last time you took this shit...think maybe you're allergic to something in it?" Jerry asks, showing concern.