I could've lied (John Frusciante FanFic)

9

~2 days later in Los Angeles~

"Do you guys need anything? I asked, sliding out Of my bunk.
"No don't worry 'bout it. We're almost to the hotel anyway." Anthony shrugged.

"You grew up here, right?" Flea asked.
"Santa Monica." I corrected him.
"Close enough. You gonna visit Santa Monica while we're close?" He asked.
"I might." I wasn't completely sure if I was ready to go back. Besides that, I had to watch the guys. Maybe they could join me? Or I could just go on the weekend.

John had gotten worse. He'd hide in the back of the bus all day playing his guitar. He never spoke to me, made eye contact or even smiled. It was right back to the way we started, except when we first met he was willing to give me a chance.
Anthony and I had grown closer over the last few days. He understood why I was being the way I was and offered to be my friend through it. Nothing more of course, that would be unfair to John.

Since I was closer with Anthony now though, John was staying away from both of us and I often let it get in my head that if anything was to happen with the guys it was my fault.

We pulled into the hotel parking lot and we all piled out. I led them down the halls and to their room, then went to my separate room.

"Wanna join us? We ordered Pizza!" Anthony grinned, peeking his head in the doorway.
"Yeah sure." I nodded, getting up and following him.
"Queen Frances has arrived!" Anthony announced.
I eyed John, wondering if he even cared anymore. I felt bad, I led him on and then dropped him.

"You guys ready for your show tonight?" I asked, trying to cut the tension.
"Maybe after some food." Chad said with a slight nod.

"Are you going to use your new guitar?" Anthony asked.
"I don't think so." John stays bluntly.

"Hey! We're on MTV!" Flea suddenly shouted, jumping up from the couch.
The tension left and and we all started hugging each other.
"This is great!" I cheered.

When the phone began ringing, Anthony ran to retrieve it.
"Hello? Yeah man!...thanks! Oh yeah totally! For sure. Okay see you then, bye!" Anthony hung the phone up.

"Who was it?" Chad asked.
"Remember the guitarist from Jane's Addiction? It was him. He saw the video on MTV too, called to congratulate and tell us he'd be at our show tonight."

"I don't remember him. I was with Perry all night." Chad shrugged.
"Dave, remember the guy? Nipple rings?" Anthony tried to help him. John snickered quietly at Chads confused face.
"Whatever, that was nice of him!" John shrugged.

———

"Go get em!" I told Anthony, pushing him at the stage.
He jumped energetically and the crowd cheered upon seeing him.
Since it was an outside venue, I just hung out where most of the roadies and other people involved did.
Once the guys took their shirt 15 minute break, I ran back up behind the stage to see them.

John had decided to use his new guitar, I saw him hand it off to a roadie. Anthony was chatting with people, being the social butterfly he was. Chad wasn't around and I assumed he was off looking for alcohol. I caught Flea on the way out, going to talk to Bob.

"Hey John! How're you liking the guitar?" I asked.
It took him a moment to understand I was speaking to him. He was always staring off into space.
"Oh, Hey Franz. It works great! I love it!" He answered with a big smile, seemingly forgetting his grudge against me.
"Awesome. You're kicking ass tonight." I winked. He nodded and left, probably to find Chad.

"Hey Ant." I said, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"Hey Frankie! Remember the guy I was talking to today? Dave? This is him!" He said, catching the mans attention. He turned with a smirk. He had dark hair and sharp features.
"Hey! What's up! What's your name again?" He asked, it was clear he hadn't heard a word Anthony had said.
"Frankie. Frances really." I nodded.
"Cool name. I'm Dave, at your service." He said, dropping into a not-so-elegant bow.
"Nice to meet you." I laughed.
"Pleasures all mine."
"I'm gonna let you two chat, see ya." Anthony announced, running off.
"Can I see your hands?" Dave asked. At such an odd request, I almost laughed thinking he was kidding, but in his dark brown eyes I knew he wasn't.
"Okay..." I said skeptically, placing both of my hands, Palm up, into his.
"Those are guitar hands yeah? You play don't you." He said. Was this guy high? Ugh. This was the last thing I needed.
"I used to."
"Me too."

I wandered aimlessly. I wasn't here to buy anything. I just liked looking at the rows and rows of beautiful guitars.
"Isn't it awesome?"
I jumped when I heard another voice.
"Huh?"
"That guitar." He clarified, pointing at it.
I turned to look at him, noticing his strong jawline and gorgeous smile, complimented nicely by jet black hair that contained a few dreadlocks.
"I like that one more." I said, pointing at a Les Paul.
"May I?" He said softly.
I stayed silent, confused by what he was asking.
He nodded slightly at my hand, then carefully grabbed it, pulling it closer to him.
"Those are guitar hands. You play don't you." He said, touching my finger tips with his.
"I do."
"Me too"

"Dave." I breathed out.
"That's my name." He said.
"No no, Dave, Navarro. Santa Monica. It's me! Don't you remember?" I asked, I pulled up my shirt sleeve to reveal a small tattoo on the underside of my upper arm where it said in cursive writing 'Guitar Hands'
"Fran?" He asked tentatively, throwing his left arm in the air to reveal the same tattoo. It was my smallest and only tattoo.

His eyes lit up and we both lunged at each other with arms open.