Time Is Nothing (John Frusciante)

Chapter 18

July 1990

John couldn't stop staring at the little black notebook lying on the hotel room's tiny desk, its covers closed, but the idea of opening them looking oh so tempting. He had been carrying it around with himself for over a month now, ever since he found it in the band's tour bus right before they were set to fly out to Europe and were asked to check the bus for their belongings before it was returned. It was then that he noticed a familiar looking journal lying between the bunks, probably fallen there by accident. Recognizing it as Cecilia's without a doubt, he pulled it out from the crack, shoving it between his own items so that nobody could see what he was holding between his hands.

He had seen it lying around in Cecilia's apartment hundreds of times before, but never had he felt tempted to peek inside. Never had he even thought about it, he always felt like his and Cecilia's connection was so strong and intimate that everything he needed to know, Cecilia had already told him, and if there was anything else, she definitely would. But after everything that happened between the two of them in New York and John having heard absolutely nothing about Cecilia for over a month now, the thought of opening those covers was hopelessly stuck in his head.

The anger he had been carrying within himself for weeks after leaving the States was finally starting to cool off. Sure, he was still hurt and confused, but a feeling of regret had also creeped its way into John's soul. He knew that he had taken things way too far, that he should have at least allowed Cecilia to explain herself. Every time he closed his eyes he could see the look on Cecilia's face when she saw him with that girl, the tears that were brimming in her eyes. He knew that he had handled the situation in all the wrong ways possible, but the idea of having someone he loved betray him once again was just something he couldn't comprehend at the time.

After learning that Cecilia had left the tour, he felt unimaginably empty, realizing what type of damage he had caused. On the contrary to Anthony's expectation of John turning into a nightmarish menace, he started spending more and more time by himself, either playing guitar or reading. At times, he would join in with the others and go to a bar or a club and laugh and drink and do some other stupid stuff, but that was more of an exception. He played his role of the freaky guitarist of the Red Hot Chili Peppers incredibly well around press, but once the cameras were gone, he couldn't bare to be around people more than he absolutely had to. John's misery was evident to everybody, so much that even Jessica and Anthony felt sorry for him. His head was always full of thoughts about Cecilia, the fact that he hadn't heard a thing about her for over a month was driving him crazy. He was well aware that Jessica called her quite frequently, but she and Anthony never talked about her around him.

So, perhaps carrying Cecilia's notebook around with him was John's way of maintaining the tiniest bit of contact with her. And perhaps reading the words and thoughts Cecilia had written down with her delicate hand was his way of communicating with her, even if it was one sided. He knew very well how much of a private matter it was, but he just couldn't stop himself. He grabbed the notebook from the desk and opened it, slowly sliding his fingers over the pages and skimming through it. He read through her daily notes, the notes she had written about the time they first met and how she called him beautiful. John couldn't help but to smile after reading those words, the image of her from the night they met appearing before his eyes. He remembered it like it was yesterday, he couldn't stop staring at her from the moment he had noticed her amongst the crowd, long before Anthony introduced them. He continued skimming through the pages, a lengthy piece of writing soon catching his attention.

Dear Alex,

Today is what would have been your 21st birthday. I can't believe it's already been more than two years since you left this planet and joined the angels up in heaven. I think you would be happy to know that I've met someone. His name is John and he is a musician. He is an amazing guitar player and plays in a band. He also sings, but he doesn't do that very often, because he doesn't think he's too good. But that's not true, because he has the most beautiful and soothing voice. Whenever he sings and plays the guitar for me, I feel so safe and calm, like nothing could hurt me. I like to think that you were the one who sent him to me. I know that you would have wanted for me to be happy.