Can't Stop (Frusciante fan fic)

Part 4-Talk, Talk, Talk My Life Away

Ellie's POV

After hanging up with John, I take a deep breath to compose myself. I can't believe I'm going to see (at least one of the places) where he creates music. Since he is reportedly making electronic music with his girlfriend, who is a seasoned DJ, I may end up meeting her too. Would I prefer it to be me and this man who I've had a crush on for years all alone? Of course. But it's just unreal to be meeting him a second time. The only thing better would be if he invited Flea or Chad or Anthony or Josh or all of the Peppers along, and I got to hear them jam. Yeah, as if that would happen.

I rush to pack all our stuff into the car to go to the new hotel, which has a pool and a bar and cafe and is no doubt less of a dump than the current place. If John recommended it, it must be pretty nice. I check out of the current place and drive over, and sure enough, it is pretty nice. I text Kerri about our new location for the evening drop off.

I don't want to keep John waiting, so I change from my floppy polo into a slightly fitted shirt, but leave my cutoff shorts on. I always joke with people that I have a "uniform" consisting of my Boston Red Sox hat (I lived in Boston for some time), Red Hot Chili Peppers shirt, cutoff jean shorts, and floppy sandals, all from Target. It's pretty much true though. I forgo the uniform today because I don't want to seem like I'm a bimbo fan girl.

I let my hair down and brush it, wash my face again, and put on some Chapstick because I get dry lips, then add on some "Fiery Fuschia" lipstick a patient bought me years ago. I add on some fragrance mist, but not too much to cool myself down in the L.A. heat. It's a short walk to his studio.  

My heart rate increases as I arrive and prepare to ring the doorbell. He opens the door and with a big smile, "Ellie! I'm glad you could make it. Come on in!." He puts his hand on my shoulder as he ushers me inside. His full lips and white teeth are absolutely perfect. His brown hair is somewhat into his eyes, not unlike Josh's, and I can tell he's growing it out. He's rocking a David Bowie T-shirt, baggy shorts, and glasses. Does he ever age? Why does he have to be so attractive? 

We walk down a flight of stairs into a huge room with multiple side rooms filled with every instrument imaginable, multiple synthesizers, and a control room, that actually doesn't look  too different from the control room in the Jimi Hendrix exhibit at MoPop in Seattle. I hear John laugh and realize I said that last part aloud. 

I realize I have and say, "I'm sorry, no offense meant.. I.." "Don't worry about it," John grins. "I consider it to be a great compliment. You had me at Hendrix. And I've never been to MoPop in Seattle. I would love to go someday."

"They have a Nirvana exhibit there too, which I also liked. But I've heard what you had to say about their music," I laugh.

John blinks several times, but then says "I do actually their work. And as you know, I wasn't in the greatest mental state then." I scold myself for bringing him back to the time when he was horribly addicted to heroin. "Kurt Cobain's guitar playing, it was just so random and raw early on and then in on 'In Utero.. It's just so sad.."

"Yeah, I think of that often. And I'm just glad you made it out of that, John," looking up at him with both sadness and admiration. Mental health and addiction are touchy subjects with me, as you will find out. For example, I personally still can't watch videos of Chris Cornell singing "I Am the Highway" or"Fell on Black Days," without choking up. I know I'll never fully understand human suffering.

"Thank you Ellie, I am too" he says softly. "I have my scars to remind me never to go back there. I'm just glad to be alive and to be making music, and back with the guys for some of the time."

"So, what do you play, Ellie? You can look around and take your pick." 

I feel suddenly shy. "I used to play the piano and keyboards eons ago, but not any more." John raises an eyebrow. "Why did you stop, Ellie?" "I played the piano in my house until I left for college, and there was a grand piano in the Honors dorm, which I didn't live in but could get into. I wanted to play, but was sure that no one wanted a slacker and science major there, so I chickened out. If I had to do it again, I would have learned how to play Tori Amos and made the pompous kids who lived there listen all the time!" I pause and John laughs. "Guys aren't into Tori Amos except my ex and I totally get it. But you're right, I should have kept with it. I hope Sophie keeps at the guitar like you told her to. She's got potential."