**2022 WacksterJackster HERE:::

IF YOU HAVE READ THE FIRST JUNKHEAD BACK IN 2015 / 2016 WHEN IT WAS ORIGINALLY POSTED:

I have changed Layne's girlfriend's name. The name "Trinity" makes me cringe something FIERCE because...well...

It reminds me of The Matrix 🤣

And as much as I LOVE that movie (and Keanu Reeves), Layne Staley is NOT the chosen one lmfao.

So, her name has officially been changed to Briana.

I like that name.

It's a good name.

It's feminine and lady like.

And...it's a name.

Okay, I'm done now. Enjoy the fanfic BYYYYEEE 👋🏻

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The house was stunning. It stood two stories high & was made mostly out of brick, with a black roof top & a large, enclosed back porch. It was gorgeous where they had moved. They lived way out in the rocky, hilly rural area right on the outskirts of town. They had a great view of the valley of trees beneath them from ontop of the hill where their house sat. Within the valley was a slim trail of a river, which seemed to flow & lead all the way out to the mountains.

It had been close to three months since Mike, Layne, & Briana moved here, all the way out to the gorgeous state of Colorado. You would think they would be a little homesick, but that assumption was far from being true. They loved it here.

They've grown accustomed to hiking. Sometimes Layne would head out to the trails with his canon camera & shoot photography. It was a great match for Briana, considering his photos had inspired her to take up painting again.

Everything really seemed to be looking up for the trio.

But there was something off about Mike...

*******

The thin brunette shakily shut & locked the door of his bedroom. Layne & Briana were out on a date, but he still couldn't help but to be paranoid. A wireless home phone was clenched tight in his sweaty, clammy palm. When he finally reached the phone up to his ear, a cringe clenched tight at the sound of her high-pitched twang of a voice.

"Mike...? Are you there?" The voice commenced on the other line.

A light sigh wisped from his cracked lips. "Yeah, sis, I'm here," he moaned dryly. Those long, skinny legs led him to his bed. Almost involuntarily, his body collapsed upon the mattress.

He was exhausted. He hadn't slept all night. His thoughts wouldn't allow him to. They kept stirring & scrambling in his brain, constantly reminding him of all of his previous mistakes. Constantly reminding him that he was, indeed, a complete & utter failure.

He tried his best to drown the thoughts out, to distract himself. But nothing seemed to work. It was as if he couldn't even control his own thoughts, his own brain...he couldn't control himself.

"Ummm... Mike...?" Melinda's voice sounded again through the telephone. A quiet sigh hushed. "Mike, do I still need to worry about you?"

His body immediately sat up, his limbs now stiff as boards. "No!" He exclaimed with wide eyes. He belted out a forced chuckle to try & save himself from suspicion. "What makes you ask a question like that?"

"You're acting strange," she pointed out. Her voice grew hoarse with concern. "You haven't called in a month. I mean, fuck, Mike, you moved a 20 hour drive away from us! The least you could do is call every once in a while."

Mike shrugged his slim shoulders. "I've been busy."

"Oh, don't give me that crap! You can always give us a ring. Back in the 90's you used to call us all the time while on tour."

Agitation twitched across his face, causing him to rub his temple in a weak attempt to prevent an upcoming migraine. Mike's sister didn't seem to care so much about talking to him during his relapse on the big H. But ever since he moved out of state with Layne & Briana, Melinda couldn't seem to keep her nose out of his business.

"What are you getting at, Mel?" He growled.

There was a long pause before she spoke. The silence on the other end of the phone made Mike's stomach flutter with anxiety. "Are you still using?"

Those deep brown eyes shot wide in shock. "No! What the fuck, Mel?! Just because I've been living my own goddamn life without giving you a courtesy call, it doesn't mean I've been getting high."

"You don't have to get all defensive about it," Melinda spat back.  "I'm worried.  I want you to be healthy & happy.  And you don't seem to be happy at all.  At least from what I can tell on the phone..."

His chest fell.  A heavy wave of guilt shuddered through his tired, aching body, causing his brow to curl in defeat.  "Look, I'm sorry, sis..." Mike started.  He gulped down his nerves, trying to convince himself that he was okay.  How was he going to be able to convince his sister if he can't even convince himself?  "I've been stressed out.  I'm still adjusting to Colorado & trying to rebuild a whole new life out here.  I'm trying to get a career going here; I can't continue to mooch off of Layne & his girl.  All the while, fighting to stay clean.  It's a lot to take in."

"I get that, Mike.  But you can always talk to me.  I know I haven't really been there for you this past year.  And I'm really sorry about that, I feel horrible.  It's just..."  She paused for a moment.  Another sigh ensued.  "It's just, I couldn't support you when you were back on that junk.  Mom couldn't, either.  We thought that if we stopped seeing you, you would snap back to your senses & get back on track...  We didn't know what to do anymore, Mike.  We've tried interventions, letting you stay with us, helping you get into a nice 60 day rehabilitation program...everything.  We didn't think you'd be the type to...ummm...  Well, you know..." She trailed off, her voice toned down.

Mike scratched at his brow.  "You didn't think I'd have it in me to attempt suicide," he stated, finishing her sentence.  A grimace stretched along his face at the dreaded 3-syllable word.  He couldn't help but to glance over at his alarm clock on the dark wash oak night stand beside him. 

9 'o clock in the afternoon...  Layne & Briana are probably going to come back from dinner pretty soon...

"I'm sorry to cut this conversation short," he grumbled into the phone.  "But it's getting late.  I gotta get up early tomorrow to go job searching."

"Oh, okay," she blurted.  She sounded disappointed.  "Well, call me back when you can."

Mike nodded.  "Yeah, of course, will do."  He got up from his bed, quickly pacing over to his closet.  "I love you, Mel," he muttered into the mouth piece of the phone.  A grunt grumbled from his throat as he reached up to grab a small wooden box from the top shelf in his closet.

"I love you, too, Mike," she said back warmly.  "I'm really proud of you for staying clean, you know?  I can only fathom how hard it must be.  But you're doing a great job."

His heart sunk to the pit of his stomach at Melinda's words.  He felt terrible as they said their good bye's & hung up the phone.  Still, he unlocked the box & opened it.  He popped four white, oblong shaped pills, easily gulping it down his gullet without having anything to drink.

Norcos.

He needed it.  Heck, he deserved it.  He had been fighting the temptation to take them for two days straight. 

He wanted to stay clean.  He really did.  He still wants to stay clean.  But the cravings are torture.  The memories & all of the overwhelming, intense emotions that accompanied them was mortifying.

Of course he feels guilt for still doing it.  He's lying to Layne & Briana, the only people left in his life that were still willing to help & support him.  He has put up his facade, his wall, once again.  To keep himself 'safe' from persecution.

Still, even he knew...

It's only a matter of time before they find out.