Deanna • Duff McKagan

Chapter Thirty-Two: 2 Years In Prison

January 4th, 1986

"So, in the assault case between Mr. William Bruce Rose and Ms. Deanna Nicole Caine, I hereby drop all charges," the judge pounds his gavel on the wood before him and people begin filing out of the courtroom.

I breathe a sigh of relief, standing up and following Axl out of the courtroom. "I cannot believe you dropped all of the charges," I say as we walk outside to Haley's car that we borrowed for court today.

He stops, turning to look at me. "Yeah, do you want me to go in there and ask the judge to reinstate them?"

I roll my eyes, grabbing his arm and pulling him with me the car. "No, Axl, that is not what I want. I just want to get to our gig at the Troubadour tonight. Get yourself together..."

"Drink til you drop, forget about tomorrow, have another shot," he finishes my sentence, the words we've spoken being the phrase we printed on the gig flyers we handed out for tonight.

Tonight is quite possibly the biggest show of Guns N' Roses lives. Finally, after almost a year of putting my blood, sweat, and tears into this band, I landed them a record deal. Well, almost. A scout for Geffen Records is coming to watch the show tonight, and if all goes well, things might just turn up for the better.

The drive home is silent, the car stereo broken so listening to music isn't an option. "What do you say, we play a little prank on them?" I smirk, turning to face Axl as I park in front of Andrea's apartment.

Axl raises his eyebrows, confused. "What do you mean?" He asks, opening the car door.

"I gotta turn myself in for assault charges next week, two years in prison?" Axl looks confused before his eyes widen, finally understanding my point.

Within seconds, the rest of the band and Haley run down the steps, meeting Axl and I by the car. "So?" Haley asks, eyes wide with stress.

"I have to turn myself in next week," I scoff, shaking my head. "Two years in the slammer."

"You're kidding," Duff sneers, glaring over at Axl. "How the fuck are we going to do this without her, Rose?"

Axl and I glance over at each other, maintaining our silence for a few seconds before beginning to laugh. "You should have seen your faces," the redhead laughs.

A smile forms on Duff's face, causing the blonde to run over to me. He lifts me up, tossing me over his shoulder. "That was not cool, Caine. Not fucking cool," his lanky form sprints back up Andrea's stairs, tossing me onto the couch and beginning to tickle me.

"Duff stop!" I scream out as he tickles me, showing no mercy. I try to push him off, but the tickling just becomes more. Damn, am I glad I met this band.

4 Hours Later

I watch as the band tears up the stage at The Troubadour, a gang of girls screaming for them at the base of the stage. Even if on the off chance they don't get signed tonight, this is what success feels like.

Guns N' Roses has torn up the Sunset Strip. Their flyers plaster the walls, their faces seen on every available telephone pole or blank wall. They've built up such a following in the past few months I've known them, and that is so incredible to me.

A man steps up to where I stand at the bar, holding out his hand for me to shake. "Michael Landers, Geffen Records," he says as I shake his hand. "I hear you're the one to talk to about Guns N' Roses."

"Deanna Caine," I introduce, taking a sip of my whiskey sour as the band plays 'Welcome to the Jungle'. "I manage them."

"Well, Ms. Caine," he glances over at the band, before turning back to me. "I've never seen an amount of raw talent quite like this band portrays. With a little bit of training, and help from Geffen Records, I feel as if we can turn Guns N' Roses into the next world renowned band, platinum record after platinum record."

I stare into his eyes, trying to find the slightest sign of deception. But, I couldn't find any. Usually, I'm a good judge of character and a I can usually tell if someone is lying. With this man, I sensed nothing but the truth.

"We would like to find out more about this opportunity," I clear my throat, running a hand through my hair. "We can meet you at your record label tomorrow."

"Perfect, how about nine o'clock in the morning?" I grit my teeth at the time of the appointment, knowing that it's going to be a bitch to wake up the band tomorrow, but I'll drag them to the record label if I have to.

"Perfect. We'll be there," Guns N' Fucking Roses is getting signed. Oh my fucking God.

A/N: HELLOOOOO EVERYONE. Guns N Roses is getting signed FINALLY, and we're in 1986. My life has been in shambles lately but I really like writing this so I'm excited to get back into it 💓