She glanced up from her sketchbook, smiling as she watched Layne & Jerry jam out.  Jerry was on his acoustic like always (he rarely hooked up his electric.  He explained that he likes to practice on acoustic considering they make his fingers stronger).  Layne was sitting next to him, singing verse after verse, Jerry harmonizing with him during the chorus.  They were singing "Got Me Wrong", a song that Nicky hadn't heard since their unplugged performance on MTV in 1996.

"So unsure we reach for something strooo--" Layne stopped himself, shaking his head.  "Fuck, man, why does my voice keep going fucking flat!" He complained. He reached over to grab his bottle of beer from the coffee table & chugged it vigorously.  He cleared his throat afterwards & burped, laughing when he noticed Nicky giving him a look.

"It made my breath miiiiinty fresh, you wanna kiss?!" Layne exclaimed.

She laughed & shook her head.  "No way in fuck," she muttered, lighting up a cig & turning to Jerry, who was toking off of his little green glass bong.  She shrieked when she felt her sketchbook being tugged away from her, looking back over to see Layne studying it.

"I didn't know you could draw," Layne commented, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his face.  His brow creased with worry as he continued to analyze the drawing.

It was a skeleton, hanging out of a toilet bowl, the bottom of the toilet curling and twisting into this red pond.  The skeleton's face was glaring into a television set that sat on a pile of raggedy books. Above the television & skeleton, a mirror with a large human eye in the center of it stared threateningly at the skeleton.  Within the red flood beneath everything, an empty glass bottle floated along towards the skeleton.

Layne glared back up at Nicky.  "What is this about...?" He asked hesitantly, though he already knew the answer to his question.

Jerry stood up and walked over to behind Layne, glaring at the drawing.  "Well, that's kinda disturbing," he commented.  "Good though...very good."  Jerry looked back over at Nicky, who was blushing.  "Why haven't you told us you were an artistic genius?"

She laughed, yanking the sketchbook away from Layne, who was still staring at the drawing with concern.  "I don't like it when people know that I'm talented..."

Layne tilted his head at her, studying her.  She was looking better since he's been getting her stoned off weed to eat & cuddling with her / barricading bathrooms from her so she wouldn't purge.  She was up to a hundred pounds now, considering it's been a few weeks.  She was still underweight, but she finally had tiny curves on that skinny frame.  She even had to go up a size on her jeans, which seemed to internally murder her but it made Layne happy.  Layne was back up to 130 pounds, finally starting to look like his old self.  He still craved dope like crazy, seeming to drink almost every night & smoke herb with Jerry every day.  Jerry wasn't too happy about Layne's sudden drinking habit, but he honestly preferred Layne to be an alcoholic than a drug addict.

"What else have you been hiding from us, huh?" Layne urged her, raising his brow in question.

She smiled at him & bit her lip.  She took another drag from her smoke.  "I can sing, too," she said as she exhaled the smoke.  "I used to jam out at bars with my band until they kicked me out due to my speed addiction...  The band sucks now, though," she snorted back a laugh, signing her name on her drawing with a black bic pen.  "I wrote the majority of their songs so yeeeep...they kinda just fell off the map here.  Now they're addicts themselves so they can fuck off."

Layne just glared at her, stunned.  "You're a musician, too?!  What the heck, why didn't you tell me?!"

She shrugged, closing her sketchbook and setting it down beside her on the couch.  "It isn't that important.  It's not like I'm this amazing rockstar like you are," she giggled, looking over at Jerry who shared that same expression of shock.  "What?!"

Jerry shook his head, staring at Layne who was glaring back at him.  "You found yourself, dude."

"Yeah...me with a freaking vagina," Layne blurted, smiling when he turned to see Nicky giggling.  "Seriously, why didn't you tell us?!  I want to hear your voice now--"

"No no nooooo," she blurted. She got up from the couch and stubbed out her cigarette.  "I'm not singing for no one."

"Awww, come on, you tell us this and now you tease us?!" Layne begged. He shot up from the stool and wrapped his arms around her.  A grin creased his pale face when he heard her giggle as he squeezed her breast.  "You should jam with us.  Do you know how to play any instruments?"

She laughed, slumping into the kitchen & grabbing herself a beer.  "Of course I know how to play certain instruments, I'm a fucking SONG WRITER?" She popped open the beer with her pocket knife, turning to see Layne just standing there in shock.  She wondered if he jizzed in his pants, which made her giggle. "Don't act so surprised, geeze."

"I wanna hear your voice!" Layne demanded, pouting his lip at her.

She rolled her eyes, studying his pink cheeks and glassy eyes.  He was getting pretty tipsy, considering he was on his fifth beer.  She gulped down some beer herself & collapsed back down on the couch.

"I'm not that great," she muttered.

"Neither am I," Layne argued. A blush ran across his cheeks when he heard her laugh loosely.

"You're the famous one here!" She shrieked, giving Jerry a look.  Jerry just laughed & took another hit from his bong.  "I was just apart of one of those underground bands..."

Layne crossed his arms stubbornly as he fell back into the recliner.  "Sing."

"No."

"SING." Layne demanded.

"No!  What the fuck?!" She blubbered, laughing.  "You SING, mister I'm Famous and Have a Contract with a Freaking Record Company."

Layne paused for a moment, drinking more of his beer.  He grinned at her deviously.  "Siiiiiiiing."

She sighed.  "Hand me the guitar, Jerry," she growled, knowing that this childish argument would never end.

Layne clapped his hands excitably, jumping up and doing a silly dance.

Nicky laughed, holding the guitar on her lap.  "I can't play when you're doing that shit!"

Layne threw up his hands & collapsed back into the recliner.  "Sorry sorry...  Just excited that my woman shares the same love for art & music."

She rolled her eyes, tuning the guitar back to standard E.  "Has anyone ever told you you're a fucking DORK?"

"I'm a whale penis?!" Layne shrieked, smiling as he heard Jerry laughing at him.  "No WONDER you always walk funny after we--"

"Oh my god, L, PLEASE!" Jerry begged.

He rolled his eyes at him.  "Oh, so sorry, Jer, I forgot about your VIRGIN ears..."

Nicky sighed shakily. She forced herself to take another drink from her beer, eyeing Layne.

"SING," Layne repeated obnoxiously, bumping his knee up and down in anticipation.

She sighed.  "It's nerve-racking enough playing infront of amateur musicians," she muttered, her eyes on the fret board of Jerry's guitar.  "Now I have to play infront of SUCCESSFUL, famous ones?!  Cut me some slack."

Layne rolled his eyes, grinning excitably at her.  "I was being called Goat Boy non stop in rehab, come on..."

Jerry snorted, "Goat Boy?  What?!"

Nicky smiled at Jerry & sat up on the couch.  "This dumb ass who used to follow us around in there always made fun of Layne's singing voice."

"GOAT BOY?!" Jerry shrieked, laughing again, turning to Layne.

Layne shrugged.  "The dude was kind of crazy.  He knew all of our songs.  He used to quote them and make fun of my voice."

Jerry scratched his head. He picked up his pack of red's from the coffee table.  "That's funny as fuck, where is the guy?!"

Layne threw up his arms.  "I dunno, the dude was supposedly a sociopath so I kinda tried my best to stay the fuck AWAY from him...you know..."

Nicky smiled, eyeing her boyfriend.  "He actually was a fan of you," she told him.

Layne's eyes widened.  "WHAT?!"

She laughed as she nodded her head.  "Yeah.  He just likes to fuck with people because...well...you know..."

Layne groaned & eyed her hands that rested on the acoustic.  "Siiiiiiing."

She groaned, rolling her eyes.  "Fine.  But I'm a shitty guitar player.  I just write songs & do vocals..."

"Just fucking sing, come on!" Layne cried out.  He thumped his knee again, eyeing her as he watched her strum a few open chords.

Nicky closed her eyes & took a deep breath as she strummed the simple couple of chords. She had to calm her nerves. She was worried she would disappoint the 2 famous musicians that were watching her. Finally, when she felt her heart begin to settle down, she started to sing.

"Lost in my own thoughts
Trying to figure out the cause
Come to find out it's my fault
Knit-picking all of my flaws..."

She strummed the chords to the chorus, fixating her eyes on the fret board. Her nerves vanished as she felt the surge, the soul from her that pushed her to write this song.

"Bone dry, muscles ache
Knee deep in my fate
Created by a dumb mistake
Is it now too late?"

She went back to the verse.  Her head was now buzzing from the natural wave of endorphins.

"Memories haunting like a ghost
Try to take your body, the host
Brain fried, dry like toast
Trapped inside, fighting the jonze..."

She sighed & stopped herself. Her face burnt red as she shakily handed Jerry his guitar back. The room was silent, so she looked at the both of them. They were exchanging looks at one another.

"I tried to warn you--"

"She writes about addiction like you, L," Jerry interrupted her, his eyes as big as melons.

Layne was holding his chest. There were tears built up in his eyes as he glared over at Nicky. "That was..."

"Horrible, I know," she muttered as she lowered her head. She felt an arm wrap around her, turning over to see Layne smiling at her with watery, woozy drunk eyes.

"No no no," he said to her, kissing her on her cheek. "That was beautiful..."

She rolled her eyes & took a slug of her beer. "You're just saying that--"

"Trust me, if it was bad, we would've laughed and told you to stop," Jerry interrupted, smiling over at her as he tuned his guitar back to drop C. "We could help you get somewhere with that voice, you know? And your lyrics are pretty powerful, too... Kinda creepy how much you're like Layne..."

Nicky blushed. She turned back to Layne who was smiling extremely wide, holding her tight. "Am I good...? My band told me that my voice sounded weird..."

Layne threw his head back and laughed. "They were JEALOUS. And probably annoyed that you were strung out..." He caught a look from Jerry. "My band is pissed at me for doing the same shit," he muttered, scratching his head.

"YEAH, we are," Jerry snapped. He smiled though, making Layne sigh with relief. "You're not strung out anymore though. Even though you've been drinking A LOT..."

Layne shrugged & laughed nervously. He took the cigarette from Nicky's hand and took a long drag. "Your voice is very strong...full of emotion," he went on, kissing Nicky along her neck. "It's hot," he mumbled into her ear, giving her chills.

She pushed him onto his back on the couch. That tiny body fell on top of him, straddling him as she rested her head against his chest. "I think your voice is sexy, too," she whispered into his ear. She giggled when she felt his dick throb into her inner thigh.

"Okaaaaay guys," Jerry slurred out, interrupting the moment. "I don't want to watch a real life porno, so if you're going to have FUN...go upstairs..."

Layne smiled at him, pulling his hand under Nicky's Nine Inch Nails t-shirt and grabbing her breast.

"L! What the fuck?!" Jerry shouted.

Layne giggled. "I'm going UPSTAIRS."

Jerry laughed. "I meant LITERALLY, not figuratively."

Layne smirked. He sat up and grabbed Nicky's hand, running up the stairs hastily.