Perfumed Secrets | Kurt Cobain

It's so hard sometimes with the star when you have to share him with everybody

The shrill ring of the phone cut through the fog of sleep, jolting Faye awake. Blinking against the harsh light streaming through the window, she felt her head spinning as she struggled to grasp the situation. Next to her, Kurt was still sprawled across the bed, deep in slumber, a peaceful look on his face that felt worlds away from her current situation.

"Hello?" she croaked, her voice rough and unsteady, still wrapped in the remnants of last night's high.

"Faye?" Her mother's voice was bright and cheery on the other end, a stark contrast. "I'll be on my way to pick you up. Twenty minutes or so."

"Uh, okay, I'll be outside." She quickly glanced at the clock. Time was slipping away.

As she hung up, panic surged through her. "Fuck it!" She shot out of bed, a flurry of movement that startled Kurt awake. He blinked at her, clearly still lost in his dreams, then squinted against the light.

"What's going on?" he asked lazily, propping himself up on one elbow, the sheets slipping down to reveal his bare chest.

"My mom's picking me up soon," she said breathlessly, darting from the bedroom to the bathroom. "The shooting. I am so late!"

Kurt watched her pace back and forth as he reached for the pack of cigarettes on the nightstand. "Hey, calm down," he said, his voice still thick with sleep. "You still have time."

"Jesus, I look awful." She caught a glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror. The reflection staring back at her was a stark reminder of her condition. Her skin had a sallow hue, pale, and her eyes were heavy-lidded, dark circles framing them like bruises. There was an almost ethereal quality to her features, but it felt more ghostly than glamorous.

She scrambled for her makeup bag, fumbling through it in a desperate attempt to cover the evidence of her indulgence. As she swiped concealer under her eyes, she could still feel the lingering effects of the heroin swirling in her system. Her hands trembled slightly, making the process feel more frantic.

Kurt's voice drifted, breaking her concentration. "You look fine, Faye. Throw on some clothes and you'll be good to go."

"Easy for you to say," she muttered, focusing on blending the makeup. "You're not the one who needs to impress anyone right now."

He chuckled, a soft sound that pulled at her heartstrings. "You know you're beautiful, right? Sleepy and all."

Faye glanced at him through the mirror, catching his playful smirk. Despite the tumult of emotions swirling within her, there was a warmth in his gaze that made her feel a little better. "Yeah, well, that doesn't mean I want my mom to see me looking like I just came back from war."

She quickly finished her makeup, adding a touch of mascara to accentuate her eyes, hoping to lift some of the weariness from her expression. With a final touch to her hair, she turned to face Kurt, who was still lounging on the bed, the cigarette smoke curling around him.

"Meet you at the venue," she said, her heart still racing. "I'll try not to take too long."

"Don't worry about it. Just have fun," he replied, stretching out and returning to a relaxed position, the remnants of sleep still lingering in his eyes.

The brightness of the day was almost too sharp, too clear. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to center herself, but her nerves remained on edge. Needing something to calm the swirling thoughts, she pulled a cigarette from her bag and lit it. The nicotine steadied her, if only a little. She leaned against the building, taking in the morning with a sense of detachment. There was something about the quiet just before facing the day that felt both calming and overwhelming. Before she could drift too far into her thoughts, her mother's car pulled up, gliding to a stop in front of her. Faye took one last drag before flicking the cigarette away and sliding into the passenger seat.