under you || taylor hawkins - foo fighters

chapter 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 - walk

It took a while for Dave to get his hungover friends out of the hotel and back home, but once he'd gotten Taylor back home, the air felt slightly lighter in the way.

Emmalyn had said goodbye to the blonde as he left, squeezing his hand lightly as he left Dave's car. When they left Taylor's street at around mid-day, she felt upset to be without him again.

"You really like him, huh?" Dave asked, watching the road before him as he sat in the drivers seat without a shirt because "that's what Cali is all about."

"I suppose so."

"He better do you nice."

"He will."

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Dave slammed the door closed and locked the car behind them as Emmalyn started to walk down the path to her front door. The air was still and smelled like Spring.

There were butterflies laced throughout the fragrant air as the bees moved from each vibrant flower to the next, preying on the pretty plants on Emmalyn's front lawn. An arch connected the garden to the patio; she'd made it an important job on the first day to decorate said arch. Emmalyn was all about little details rather than the bigger picture.

The door creaked open as Emmalyn retracted her key from the hole and threw the chain into a dish on a coffee table.

"Can I fix you a drink?" Dave asked, walking into the kitchen as he spotted Emmalyn already collapsed on the bench by her dining table.

She only produced a quiet groan trying to signal a 'yes' as her mind was busied with the self-inflicted torture. You'd think after over a decade of constantly being on the road, indefinitely either stoned or hammered Emmalyn would be able to cope with something as little as a hangover but her little frame didn't help with the distribution of alcohol.

"Coffee it is then," Dave announced before flicking on the percolator and then finding himself a cookie.

"Dave," Emmalyn muttered as she sat up, her eyes still half-closed but she still stared directly at the man she had addressed.

"What's up, Lins?" He muffled through the cookie crumbs, as he came forth to sit opposite her, pulling out a chair.

"Can you check the calendar on the fridge?" Emmalyn asked, her brows furrowed in confusion as Dave floated toward the fridge.

"What am I looking for?" He traced his finger over the week they were in, looking for a date of some sort.

"When does the next tour start?"

Dave's eyes danced around the page as they stumbled upon a specific day of the month.

"Nine days, Linny. First show is the Roxy," Dave sighed before returning back to the coffee machine which had just beeped. He filled their two mugs, one labelled D and one labelled E. Dave had bought them for the first Christmas they'd spent without Kurt and the first of two they had been in the same house.

"Fuck."

"Looking forward to it then?" Dave snickered, his eyes following Emmalyn's grumpy expression which brough amusement to his own.

"Hell yeah."

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"So the first night is The Roxy and then we have a night or two before the flight to Chicago," Emmalyn announced to the rest of her band who stood in her new studio.

It was the first band practice they'd managed to have together since Emmalyn had moved to a place which wasn't over 3 hours away from all of them. They were glad to have their front woman actually in front of them instead of on Skype.

"Who's opening that night?" Scar had asked, in between tuning her high E with Emmalyn's grand piano.

"Sharon said that the Pixies are around that night, or  I can call up Courtney and see if her gang are around..." Emmalyn listed, her pen running down the notebook, from which she was acquiring the information.

"...Or, you can ask Dave to get his guys?" Amanda suggested while tightening the snare head to her preferred tension.

Emmalyn thought about it for a moment, recalling the day where Dave had said they were free for a while. They were looking to tour at some point but there was no deadline.

Cherry Gloss were in a very different boat: Having just dropped their sixth studio album, Blood On Vinyl, and were getting ready to tour the US and UK for what felt like the thousandth time to the group
of women.

"I'll call him later, but who's a second choice?" Emmalyn posed the question discarding her notepad and inched towards her bass, with eyes of love.

"I'm going Pixies," Amanda declared.

"Dude, Hole is an option here!" Jade turned to Amanda and shot an offended glare.

"I don't care," Scarlett muttered, getting angry at the strings she was trying so hard to fix.

"Alright, so whoever's available!"

Emmalyn picked up the bass and opened the first song on the record by giving her drummer Amanda a sneaky wink. The song was entitled Echoes of Youth, which Emmalyn had written about her childhood.

The fire of lust flooded through the veins,
Chasing empty dreams in the pouring rain,
But the Echoes of Youth, they never die,
Burning every bridge just to feel just alive.

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ . ♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ﾟ.

"Dude are you free on Saturday night?" Dave hollered down the phone at the sixth and final of his band mates, realising at this point it probably would've been easier to just email them.

"Probably, depends what your asking for," Taylor's voice was groggy and sleepy, which Dave heard most often. He was the guy to nap at every waking moment.

"Linny wants us to open up for her."

It took Taylor a while to process the words that had just come through his phone. Without being too stalker-ish or overly obsessed about it, Taylor was a massive fan of female punk bands, especially Cherry Gloss. As a child, he'd loved The Runaways, and as he grew older, the breakup of Bikini Kill had broken him too.

He was a sucker for women with guitars and screaming voices.

"Yo, Taylor," His brother Jason wandered in through the front door of Taylor's first home, "The new album came out."

He was 20 years old at the time, saving up the pay checks from being on tour with Alanis, Taylor had finally purchased a studio home in Laguna. Like he'd always dreamed of.

"Seriously? It's out?!" Taylor and his brother were talking, very excitedly, about the well-awaited Cherry Gloss album: Glossy Eyes.

"Hell yeah, come on."

They went down to the record store and bought it brand new. They then proceeded to spend the afternoon listening to the vinyl for the rest of the afternoon. You could call him a fan.