#edved

“34 years ago on July 12, Pearl Jam played their first show in Philadelphia at J.C. Dobbs.

She felt ashamed. She couldn't even look at herself in the mirror anymore. Phil had come back from his trip and was in a good mood, which was rare for him. Layla had been pampering him ever since he came back. The guilt that was weighing on her conscience was overwhelming. Every time she closed her eyes, all she thought about was Eddie. She tried to be angry at him, since he shouldn't have kissed her, knowing full well she was in a committed relationship. But every time she did, she reminded herself that she kissed him too, and that she didn't seem to care about her boyfriend when they kissed. She could still feel his lips on hers, the pressure of them as they molded against each other. Every time she felt herself daydreaming about it, she would mentally slap herself. She shouldn't be feeling this way. What she had done was bad enough, let alone wanting to do it again. She treated Phil like a King, listening to his every beck and call, and serving him in every way possible. While he was lapping up the attention, she felt dirty in more ways than one. Dirty that she was submitting to someone she had little respect for, and dirty for becoming what she hated, a cheater. The logical part of her brain told her that he was cheating plenty, that he had been having sex with multiple women for ages. The logical part also told her that Eddie treated her right, that he respected her and that she shouldn't feel guilty about wanting to love and be loved in return. But Phil had managed to drive out any logic she had in the past year and a half, and all she could think about was how much of a pathetic waste of space she was. She even managed to convince herself that Eddie didn't actually like her, nor want her in that way at all. She had managed to convince herself that he pitied her the other night, since she was ill and clearly had no self esteem. He was simply being sympathetic and thought that kissing her would help. He didn't feel anything most likely. She was torturing herself, constantly fighting between what was true and what she made herself believe was true. It wasn't fair.

*****

Layla finished cleaning up the tables at the diner when she heard the bell chime. She turned to find Jeff walking towards her.

"Hello, Miss 'I think it's fun to ignore my friends when they call'. How you doing today?" She stared at him in confusion, not knowing what he was referring to.

"What?" He looked at her and rolled his eyes.

"Me and Stone have been calling you non-stop the past couple of days, since you were sick and all. And apparently you think ignoring those calls is a good idea." Now she was completely confused. She hadn't gotten any calls from either Stone or Jeff, in fact she hadn't gotten any calls from anyone lately. Suddenly the look of confusion left her face as realisation sank in. It was Phil. He had done it a couple times during their relationship, for certain reasons, but she didn't understand what his reason was this time. Phil would often block certain numbers on the phone, ever since they got a new receiver. He would write down people's phone numbers that he would meet and then block the number so the calls couldn't get through. He had done this to the likes of Stone and Jeff before. Even blocking Andy after one too many drunk phone calls he made. He always did it for a reason though, no matter how small, and she had no idea what could have possibly set him off this time, especially since she hadn't talked to Stone and Jeff since the party.

"Oh, well, I've been really busy and our machine is playing up. It's not recording any voice mail, no matter how many tapes we put in the damn thing. Sorry about that." She said, Lying through her teeth. She felt guilty for having to lie about it again.

"Well, I wanted to invite you out to dinner tomorrow night. We're having a little celebration since we've got a singer and a drummer and everything's running smoothly. Plus, I've just got my wages and I wanted to go somewhere fancy to delude myself into thinking I'm rich." Jeff ended with a smile, pleading her to come with them. She hesitated.

"Phil can come with you if you want, you know." This made the offer more enticing, as she knew there was no way Phil would let her go without him.

"I'll think about it and give you a call" she said, praying that she would be able to unblock his number temporarily to do so. If not she'd have to use the phone in the diner.

"That's good enough for me. Hopefully I'll see you then. By the time you call I'll have a reservation somewhere nice anyway." After talking for a few more minutes, Jeff left to go to work. Suddenly, Layla realised that Eddie would most likely be at the dinner, and if she went, so would Phil. She felt nauseous even thinking about going, but convinced herself that going with Phil would prove that she was committed and wouldn't be swayed by anybody ever again. Even if it was a Longhaired Californian.

*****

Really short chapter. I'm hoping to get the next one up by next week or so. I've got so many requests as well to do, which I'm going to try to do this week. Love you all, and tell me what you think's gonna happen. Is Layla gonna go to the meal and what's gonna go down?❤❤

Layla turned on her side as Phil fell back onto his side of the bed. He let out a sigh of satisfaction as he breathed heavily, with his arm resting across her thigh. She prayed he would fall asleep soon so that she could wriggle out of his grip and sleep on the edge of the bed, wanting desperately for him to stop touching her. It wasn’t long before she could hear his heavy snores, telling her that she was safe for now. She silently got up from the double bed and made her way into the small kitchenette of the apartment they shared. She made herself a coffee, drinking it on the couch while staring out the window, vaguely seeing the space needle to her left. It was at that moment when everything she had tried to forget came sinking back into her pores. She regretted the day she ever stepped foot in Seattle. Because no matter how amazing the city was, no matter how amazing the culture and the people she had managed to meet, she was still trapped with a man she wished she had never settled for.

*****

The next morning Layla left the apartment before Phil woke up, leaving a note on the bed beside him just so he knew that she had left to go to work and not anywhere else. She walked the 30 minute trek to the diner she was a waitress at, ‘Jimi’s’. The place itself was in a confused time warp of music history, respectively being named after Jimi Hendrix, yet having portraits of Elvis and James Dean hung up behind the counter Layla signed in and greeted Cindy, the owner, who could have won a Dolly Parton lookalike contest if Washington ever hosted one. Cindy had taken Layla under her wing since she moved to Seattle, providing her with a job and a maternal caring which Layla appreciated with all her heart. While the place wasn’t the fanciest of eateries, it was good enough for Layla. It was the only place where she could escape from all her worries. It wasn’t until she heard two telltale voices did she look up from her task of cleaning glasses.

“You know, Pebble, what’s the point in us coming here when we get ignored. We should complain to the department of health about the customer service in this establishment.”

She looked up, only to see a multicoloured hat with stripes resembling a Rastafarian’s head wear.

“Sure Ames, cause if we wanted to complain about customer service we’d definitely go to the health department”

Came the sarcastic reply from his Longhaired friend. Ah yes, Stoney and Jeffrey coming to get their daily cup of shitty coffee. Layla had made friends with the duo as soon as she moved to Seattle. She’d heard of the local band Mother Love Bone playing in the local bar and decided to go to scope the scene. What she’d got instead was shit ass drunk and partied backstage with the band members, which included the two doofuses standing in front of the counter right now.

“What can I get you?”

“We’ll take two black coffees and two cinnamon thingys.” Stone replied, frantically gesturing to the apple and cinnamon swirl situated behind the counter, like waving his abnormally long arms around the area would make them levitate through the glass and into his stomach. After getting the orders, Layla walked back over to the two and was immediately addressed by Jeff.

“Guess what?” Oh God she hated having to play these games with him.

“What?”

“No, guess.”

“For fucks sake Ames just tell her” came Stone’s reply.

“Well… We got a singer.” It took me a minute to formulate any kind of response. It had been months since Andy died, and while the pain would never fully go away, the boys knew that starting something again musically would help. After Stone reconnected with some guitar player he used to go to school with, and Jeff got on board with the idea, they were ready to start a band. The only problem was finding a drummer. And a singer. The boys had gone through everyone they knew. Matt from Soundgarden had luckily stepped in to play on their demo, but from what Stone and Jeff had told Layla, they had had no success in finding someone with a decent pair of vocal cords. So the news that they had found someone shocked her out of her skin, however, she was also doubtful whether they went with a guy who was genuinely good, or someone who was mediocre just because they couldn’t find anyone else.

“You’re being serious?”

“Serious as hell Layla. You remember Jack Irons? Used to be the drummer for The Chilis. He was in town the other week and we asked if he would be interested in drumming, but he’d already started in a band called Eleven I think it was…” Jeff trailed off trying to remember exactly what had happened, wondering off into a world of his own. Stone huffed and picked up for him.

“Anyway, he said he had some friend in San Diego that used to be in a band, and was a decent singer, and that he would be seeing him when he went back to California. So we gave him the tape to give to this guy and we got it back and called him to tell him to get on the next flight to Seattle” Stone finished nearly out of breath as he tried to squeeze in as much information as possible into one breath. She looked between the two, not convinced that something was actually going right for a change. They both took in her doubtful expression.

“You have a cassette or something here” Jeff asked. Layla once again looked at him confused.

“Uh, yeah, it’s under the counter.” She pulled it out from under the till and set in next to them on the vinyl table. Stone reached into his pocket and produced a tape, with tipex lining the front of the tape. He put it into the cassette player and pressed play. Layla wasn’t too concerned about this as there was no one else in the diner this early in the morning. She heard the opening notes of a song Stone had showed her one night after work, and had told her he was planning on putting on the demo. After the initial instrumental in which she had heard a handful of times before, a voice came over the tape.

“Son, she said, have I got a little story for you…” Layla watched the tape with curiosity. Was that an actual voice from a real person who was going to be in her friends’ band. Stone and Jeff watched Layla’s face for a reaction, desperately hoping that she would become as excited as them. Once the first chorus was over, Stone paused the cassette and turned to her.

“So, what do you think?” Layla’s eyes met his.

“Is this guy real? I mean, don’t be fucking with me or anything.” Stone rolled his eyes.

“That’s exactly what Mike said. But don’t worry, he’s on his way to Seattle and we’ve had too many phone conversations for him to be a figment of our imagination.” Jeff replied back to her, almost jumping out of his seat. After talking more about this mysterious new singer, the boys left to go to rehearsal. Layla picked up her job again of cleaning glasses after she had attended to some of the other customers who had started to arrive. But no matter how much she tried to stay focus on her task, all she could concentrate on was that voice. How it was too good to be true. Layla realised that only a certain type of person could have such a deep baritone and write such lyrics. Someone who was a bit older. It was then that she realised why it was too good to be true. This mystery guy from California was probably a lot older than the others, and probably looked like a redneck trucker with a beer belly. The guys didn’t even know what he looked like or the type of person he was, they had only based an opinion on what he sang like. After realising this, Layla laughed to herself quietly, hoping that her friends had luck on their side when the mystery Californian arrived.

*****