Just a few weeks

Chapter One- Meeting the Mister

Stone Gossard × Jerry Cantrell
Point of View: Stone Gossard

A/N: The ages of the two men in this story arent realistic to their age difference in real life.

I walked into the Lobby of the Music Bank. My buddy that I used to jam with; Jeff Ament told me I should come here to learn more stuff about how to play the guitar, cause some guys giving out lessons. I told him I didnt need help- but he insisted I go anyways. He said the guy giving out lessons is damn good. "The best in Seattle." As he put it.

We used to be in a band called "Green River", but our band decided to break up. Jeff thinks that if I go out and get better at guitar, then maybe I'll get thrown into another band- once they "See how good i play." - That's how Jeff put it.

I told him he should come with me and get help from this bad ass Bassist that's giving out lessons here- I think his names Mike Starr or something- so that he can join some band with me again, but he said, "I dont need help. I'm already bad ass. You need help though, so then once you get thrown into a band, you can put in good word for me, and get me into the band too. See Stone? Win-Win."

I swear to God Jeff was the biggest idiot ever.

So here I was- walking up to the counter in the Music Banks Lobby, by myself.

This great big guy turned around, and asked, "What are you here for kid?"

I showed him this flyer that Jeff gave me about the guitar lessons, and said, "The guitar lessons? I was told that-"

The man cut me off, then said, "Down that hall" -he pointed to a dim lit hall- "Like the third door on your right, or something like that."

I grabbed the flyer, fixed my guitar strap on my shoulder, and headed down the hall.

"Nice directions." I mumbled under my breath. "Third door on the right, or something like that." I said, mocking him, with a scoff.

I knocked on the third door, and a man answered.

A taller man- a skinny man. He had long blonde hair, down to his chest. He had bright blue eyes, and some type of expression, that was in between  tough, and soft. He had on what looked like boxer shorts, and a white tank top.

"What you want kid?" The man asked.

What's up with all the attitudes, and everyone calling me 'kid? I thought to myself.

I handed him the flyer, and asked, "Is this your deal?"

The blonde man nodded towards the inside of his tiny apartment, and said, "Come inside."

Slowly I walked in. The place was a mess. It seemed like one giant room. There was a Kitchen, and Livingroom all in one big area, and a small hallway that had a bathroom on the left side, and one room on the right.

There were dishes all over the counters, guitars and amps all over the living room, and clothes all over his bedroom floor.

It wasnt any better than my room though. I guess it was neater than I thought it was.

I lived with my parents, so it was nice to get out for a few hours.

"Go set up your guitar. Theres an amp next to my white guitar over there that you can use." He said, pointing over to the amp.

Without a word, i set up my guitar. I started playing some of what I wrote for Green River, and waited.

About two minutes later, the man came back with Jean's on, but now his shirt was off? - which seemed kinda weird to me, considering he added a piece of clothing, just to end up losing another.

"What's your name kid?" He asked.

"Uhm-" I sat my guitar down, and looked at him. "-Stone, Stone Gossard?"

He nodded then said, "I'm Jerry. And Stone? Is that really your name- or some nickname?"

I chuckled then said, "Its real. I know- its weird. Everyone thinks it's fake. But yea, my parents really named me 'Stone'."

"Huh. Well Stone, play me something." He picked up his guitar, as I picked up mine.

I played another thing I wrote. - it never got used for Green River though.

"What's that?" Jerry asked me.

"Uhm well- I wrote it." I told him.

"Damn. Not too bad."

"Thanks."

"You in a band?"

"I was." I informed him. "It was called Green River."

"Oh really? I saw them play once- didn't even recognize you. You're good kid."

"Thanks."

"Well if you're that good, why the hell you here?"

"Well i-" I began before he cut me off.

"I'm joking with you." He said, playfully slapping my arm. "How old are you."

"Oh okay. And I'm 18." I told him. "Could I ask you the same?"

"21." Is all he said.

"Well, you came here late, I guess we can go on tomorrow. Try and teach you more than you already know." He said, as he stood up.

I hurried up and packed up my guitar. The flyer said that whoever came for lessons, could stay at the Music Bank with Jerry. It said he'd get them their own room. First come, first serve. But I wasnt too sure if I wanted to stay.

"Want me to show you your room?" He asked.

"Well i-"

"Come on kid, follow me."

I decided I'd just stay at the Music Bank tonight. I picked up my guitar, and followed him.

"This room right here. You're right next to me." He said, placing a small key in my hand. "Heres the key. I hope you can sleep with loud music, this place is for musicians and musicians only, so expect to hear them. So obviously if you want to practice before tomorrow, rock on as loud as you want. No one here will fuck with you, so if you hear a knock, expect it to be me. I'll stop by tomorrow to invite you back over for practice. You good kid?" He asked, after he explained everything.

"Y-yea. I'm good I guess. But I didnt bring clothes." I said.

"We'll get you some tomorrow. Knock if you need anything, alright?" Jerry told me.

"Yea- okay. Goodnight Jerry."

"Goodnight-- Stone." He said with a chuckle, and a smile.

I walked into my room, sat my things down, and jumped onto my bed. I couldnt believe any of this was happening.

I walk up to this, mysterious man, that I've never met before, and then realize that he knows me and has heard me play? and thinks I'm good? This is crazy.

I decided I'd play for a bit. I played a few songs by Judas Priest- they were one of of my favorite bands.

Sooner than later- i went to bed.