Buttered Popcorn

Chapter 22.75: June 15, 1987

Axl and the girl had apparently left, as their spots were empty. "They finally get a room?" Jimmie asked Slash and Izzy, who were boringly sitting in the booth alone, smoking cigarettes and sipping on straight whiskey, no ice. Izzy looked to her and gave a short shrug of acknowledgment while Slash remained silent, tapping a finger against his silver zippo lighter. "Tough crowd." she mumbled. Duff put down his glass and propped his chin on his arm that was resting on the table, "Never would've thought you liked The Smiths."

"Sure. There's not much I'm not into," she picked up an empty glass, swiped a few granules of remaining sugar off with her fingers then licked it, "Do you like them?" He shrugged, "Eh. I'd pick other things over them."

"Like?"

A look of thought crossed his features and he was silent for a moment, "Black Flag. Or the Pistols. The Ramones, too." Jimmie raised her eyes brows briefly, "So punk. Just all punk music." Once again he shrugged, "Seattle."

Jimmie giggled a bit and fell back onto Duff's shoulder, leaning back and staring at the ceiling as the colorful lights above melted and warped before her eyes. Lately, Duff's presence had offered a sincere comfort and stability that the girl was quite desperate for. As funny as it was, being nearly black-out drunk in an unknown bar with a rock and roll band happened to be one of her rare moment of tranquility amidst the chaos that contorted her life. Duff's head rested back into the booth behind them and placed his large hand on Jimmie's leg.

Streaks of neon pink and blue flashed across her eyes and she smiled at just how drunk she truly was.

Her wistful haze was broken by a sudden jolt of the table as Slash got up and shook the various glass bottles across the top. Izzy glanced over with a slightly furrowed brow, face covered by a thin veil of smoke, and watched his guitarist mumble loud obscenities while storming away from the table.

Jimmie looked to where Slash had vanished into the crowd, but was now too long gone to be seen. Duff lazily brought his head up to look at the table and find that his friend was no longer there, "Where'd Curly go?"

Izzy tapped the ash of his cigarette into a cup of ice and shrugged, "Off."

Jimmie frowned at his sudden disappearance and looked at Izzy until he caught her eye, though sparing nothing but a mildly apologetic glance. She quickly scooted out of the booth and followed his trail, pushing and squeezing her way through the thick swarm of swaying bodies on the dance floor of the bar. As she emerged from the crowd, she found herself almost out of breath before finding an exit he could've used.

Slash had cemented a significant and frankly unwanted place in Jimmie's heart, so his erratic behavior recently, especially after Steven's overdose, was of much concern to her.

A chill spiked at her skin as the breeze blew down the street, various headlights speeding by in a flash down the street every few minutes. She tucked her hands under each of her arms as she crossed them closer to her body before turning to find a cloud of smoke trailing from the shadows. Jimmie approached, shuddering, and watched as Slash turned away from her. "What is it?"

He looked down to flick his cigarette and blow out more smoke. The both of them waited in a tense silence for a moment before she spoke again, "What's your problem? What did I do?" The guitarist dropped his tobacco and began ruffling his hair, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Could you stop that already?" She scoffed and rolled her eyes, "Just tell me what I did. Drop the 'cool guy' thing." Shaking his head, they fell into another silence. Jimmie tried to bite her tongue to allow him a word and refrain from any comments.

"There's no 'cool guy' thing." He spoke gruffly and she had yet to meet his eyes under the dark cast of his curls. She could only see his hair in the dim light as he looked to his feet and spoke quietly.

"Why are you mad at me?"

He shook his head again, wind tussling the dark curls, "......He-" His breath stopped short and again he fell silent.

"Who?"

His hand shot to motion toward the inside of the club, "Fuckin'.... Duff.." His voice lowered and he tucked his hand under his arm.

Jimmie frowned, "Duff? What about him?"

"You just- .. You guys are always.." He scoffed. He couldn't seem to gather his words as he stared at her, and Saul hated to be babbling idiot. "You're.. I don't fuckin' know.." The girl stared, waiting for some kind to clarification. What could he be talking about?

The night ambience settled between them and eventually Jimmie figured she'd try to encourage him. After all, he didn't typically 'pour his heart out' to anyone. "Saul," she took a deep breath and looked at his eyes, "What's going on?"

"Ever since Steven... ended up in the hospital.. again... You and Duff have been like- best fuckin' friends.." His words fell into a mumble nearing the end of his sentence and Jimmie furrowed her eyebrows. She scoffed quietly, tucking her arms even closer and turning away toward the street. "Don't tell me you're jealous.. of Duff-"

Suddenly, Saul grasped her arm and pulled her to look at him, his eyes now illuminated by the warm glow of a distant street lamp. "It's not about him! It's- you... you fell into my arms after finding Steven, not his! I was supposed to be there for you, I wanted to, and I thought you- I thought... I don't know what I thought.."

She shook her head, finding his hands in her own and began to hold them. "I know. I know you're here for me. I just- I... Seeing Steven in the hospital was scary. I was just drunk, I-.." Jimmie, suddenly lacking the composition of her thoughts, blinked slowly. "I know you're here for me. I thought you liked to be alone but I'm here for you, just the same. I didn't mean to upset you."

"I didn't!-" A pause from him as he threw up his hands and sighed, "You don't have to apologize. I'm not mad, I just don't-.. I don't know what to do."

Both of them stood silent in the night, the bar's music muffled from the other side of the bricks. Jimmie cautiously chose her next move.

Stepping closer, slowly as not to startle the beast, she embraced Saul.

He wrapped his heavy arms around her shoulders and curled his body to fit her form. Suddenly she was engulfed in his tobacco and vanilla tinted musk as her face fell to the comfort of his chest. They held each other under the dim light, both silently thinking about one another.

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! r. speaks!
extensive authors note: i have no idea what to do with this story, pls give suggestions. also, thank u for all the nice comments about my work, u guys make me blush. check out my other stories (maybe they're just as good as this one), and uh, yeah thanks for reading. suggest things for this story! i'm brain dead!