Time After Time || Chris Cornell

30. It's A Broken Kind Of Feeling

Dusseldorf Germany, April 16 1990

(Chris is 25, Andi is 20)

CHRIS:  "Andi?" I call after her but she slams the divider door. Standing there in the middle of the bus I can feel Kim and Matt looking at me as Jason peaks his head out of his bunk to asses the situation. This is the first fight they've actually seen between Andi and me and I have to say it was just a little awkward. Just as I was about to follow her, I see Kim shaking his head at me and lighting up a cigarette.

"What?" I ask.

"I think maybe you should just give her some space," Kim says.

"I need to make sure she's ok, I was only trying to stand up for her,"

"Chris... just stop and sit down... it's been a long night," Kim says to me but I make my way to the back of the bus, not even listening. I need to explain myself. I need her to know I was only trying to help.

"Andi?" I say quietly but I hear nothing on the other side. "Baby? Ok, I know you're angry with me but... I just..." I start but I still don't hear anything. "Babe? Can I come in?" I ask but still nothing. I felt my heart begin to pick up pace and I reach down to the divider handle pulling it open and see her clothes left in a pile on the floor.

*****

Seattle Washington, January 23 1990

(Andi is 20 and 20)

ANDI: "Fuck me," I say as I find myself in a familiar room, completely naked on the floor. I flip my curls out of my face and sit myself up leaning against the bed. It's our old bedroom, in the old apartment we lived in with Andy. I exhale and look around the room with my guitars on their stands next to Chris's, the posters of our favorite bands plastered all over the walls and a part of me can feel just how much I missed this place.

"I didn't want to slip... why can't I just..." I say quietly to myself as I bring my knees up to my chest, and rest my elbow, threading my fingers through my curls and gripping my roots. I'm frustrated. I'm frustrated at how the show went, I'm frustrated at that idiot promoter who just wouldn't let up on me and I'm frustrated that I can't let go of the grief I feel inside for Andy. I don't want to feel this way. I hate that I'm constantly leaving Chris all the fucking time. I hate that I can't control this... this insipid curse that takes me away from everyone and everything I love.

I sit for a little while trying to gather myself together, but also just letting myself feel the grief and heartbreak I've been feeling since the day Andy left. Just like how I felt when my mother left me, only this time, it's different. Andy's death affected me, and is still affecting me like I never thought it would.

I then decide to move over to my dresser and pull out some panties and a plain black bra, a plain racer back tank top and a frayed denim skirt. It was probably the easiest clothing find since I used to slip into Chris' room in the basement. Once I slip on some socks and my Doc Martens, I check myself in the mirror making sure I look presentable, and cautiously walk out into the hallway and see the apartment completely dark and slightly messy from what looked like a party that had taken place. I walk passed Andy's room and stop myself to just take a look since his door was left open. His room is the same as I remember with his bed still all a mess since he never made it. I can just hear his voice now... 

'What's the point, if I'm gonna sleep in it anyways?'

I step over to his dresser where he would hang his scarves off the corner of the mirror and see tons of photos of him and Xana and a few of Me and Chris and one photo of me and Andy that I can't remember who took for the life of me. I glance down at the top of the dresser where a little calendar was turned to January and see the date circled in red marker and my name in bold 'Andrea's 20th'