Perfumed Secrets | Kurt Cobain

It's never too late to leave if you wanna leave

"Oh, you guys are here." Amy was lounging on the couch, a textbook open on her lap, highlighting passages with a neon marker. She looked up as the couple entered the apartment that Sunday evening. Kurt had come along to Seattle with Faye, he would be performing that Wednesday, so they had settled on spending a few extra days together.

"Hey, Amy," Faye mumbled, and without waiting for any more pleasantries, she headed straight to the kitchen, her mind already on the soothing ritual of making tea. "How was your weekend?" she called over her shoulder.

"Boring," she said, setting her textbook aside. "I spent most of it studying."

Faye nodded to herself, and she couldn't help but feel that she should have been doing the same. The thought of her textbooks buried under a pile of clothes in her room made her stomach turn.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Amy rose to her feet. She walked over to the front table and picked up a small piece of paper, holding it out as she crossed the room toward Faye. "Your mother called."

Three words that made Faye freeze for a second.

"I wasn't sure if you had her number, so I wrote it down for you."

She took the paper, stared at the numbers, the neat handwriting blurring slightly as her mind was now thousands of miles away.

"Thanks," Faye whispered. She forced a small smile and turned away, heading down the hall to her bedroom. She leaned against the bed for a moment before looking down at the note again.

The digits stared back at her, simple yet loaded with expectations and concerns she had been avoiding. She let out a shaky breath, folding the paper neatly and placing it in her pocket. The room felt like it was closing in on her, the familiar surroundings suddenly unfamiliar.

Kurt knocked lightly on the door before pushing it open. "Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah, just... wasn't expecting that." She shrugged, trying to play it off.

"Want to talk about it?"

She shook her head, unable to find the words. Instead, she turned and sank down onto the edge of the mattress, her hands clasped in her lap. Kurt was now down beside her, close enough that their shoulders touched. He didn't push, just waited.

Faye looked at the note again, the ink now a reminder of everything she was abstaining. "I should call her back, shouldn't I?" she muttered, more to herself than to Kurt.

"Probably," he replied gently. "But only if you're ready."

She took a deep breath, saying, "I don't know why it feels so hard."

"Because it is hard," Kurt said, his arm slipping around her shoulders. "But you don't have to face it alone."

Faye leaned onto him, letting the warmth of his embrace chase away a little of the coldness that had settled in her body. He could sense the tension in her, the way she seemed to retreat inward, lost in her worries.

"Just do it if you're feeling okay," Kurt said softly. "It's not because you met her once that you need to fully let her back in."

She nodded absently, but his words didn't exactly ease the knot tightening in her stomach. The idea of talking to her mother again, of confronting whatever this call might bring, was too much. She needed to quiet her mind, to make the anxiety go away, even just for a while.

She stood up slowly, almost in a daze, and without a word, quickly made her way over to the living room to grab her bag. Kurt watched her, concern deepening when she got back and pulled out the bottle of pills.