under you || taylor hawkins - foo fighters

chapter 𝐎𝐍𝐄 - the glass

"Oh fuck- don't you fucking dare bring Krist down here," Emmalyn whined down the line, as the recipient just cackled away. The conversation had been playful and upbeat but Emmalyn's tone was forever bipolar.

"Oh Linny, he won't take over too much," His gruff voice sounded self-doubtful, even though he tried his best to stay confident, like always.

"Dave, I swear to fucking God! I love the guy but I cannot spend a whole day with him, if he's stressed and being his usual 'busy bee' self. Bring someone else, like Pat or something!"

It has been six hours since Emmalyn had moved her entire life, across continent to the sunny state of California. After living in Seattle for the entirety of her life, steeping in her past, her best friend had finally managed to convince her to move closer.

Although every single time her band fancied jamming, Emmalyn would have to drive her vintage Citroen DS for around two hours to even be in the proximity of one of her band mates. Maybe this move was for the better, she thought.

Sighing into boxes upon boxes, Emmalyn sunk into a pit of overwhelming regret as she put the phone down. "Where the fffuck do I start?"

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Her brand new front door creaked open a few hours later, even though she hadn't moved more than an inch since she had hung up the phone. "Emmalyn?!"

The storm arrived in waves, blowing in helper after; all of Emmalyn's cross-state friends piled into the house. "Who the fuck are all these people Dave?" She asked as the crowding became a tad too major for Emmalyn's blonde head of hair to handle.

"Relax, Linny," The brunette rocker patted her shoulder pitifully, "They care about you and now that I've managed to convince you to get down to the coast," He gestured to the glass separating her home from the sea view, before continuing, "I'm willing to pull in all the help I can get to keep you from going insane!"

"Let's just say, as much as I love the man, I'm glad Krist isn't here," At Emmalyn's grumpy remark, Dave squeezed his free arm around her shoulders and laughed heartily, still continuing to organise her generous array of silverware.

"Actually..."

"Grohl."

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Following the endless hours of unpacking, Emmalyn had been promised a proper Grohl full-blown party, and Dave was not backing down from his promise that was for sure.

It had taken a lot to detach Emmalyn from her past in Seattle, given that it was her place of birth and the place of her brother's death.

Eight full years had passed since Kurt's death and it had destroyed no one more than his own sister.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Ems," Kurt promised down the telephone, after he had placed his daughter down for bed and kissed his wife goodnight.

"See you tomorrow, Kurtle. I love you." Emmalyn cooed through the phone, bringing a light smile to the blonde man's lips.

"I love you too."

But that was the last time they ever spoke. Ever.

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"Take another fuuucking shot, Emmalyn," Josh Homme slumped down on her new marble countertops, dragging his empty shot glass across to her, "You're not nearly wasted enough."