Book 2: She's Out To Please (Duff McKagan FanFic)

Ch. 20: Fucking Hypocrites

By the time Steven had managed to shake me into consciousness, the effects of the alcohol had worn off. The only proof I had that last night had even happened was the splitting headache and slight dizziness that remained in my head. That, and the dried blood on my knuckles from where Mary had torn at my flesh.

Reluctantly, and with much difficulty and varying levels of pain, I climbed off of the roof and into the loft to get ready for work.

Looking for an easy fix to my raging hang over, I poured some vodka into my coffee mug as I prepared my breakfast. I also stopped by Slash's sleeping body on the couch and snorted some of his coke off of the coffee table.

After the night I'd had, I knew I would need a quick pick-me-up to help get me through the day.

Izzy watched me from his spot on a recliner in the corner of the room. His eyes were fixated on me, dark with contempt and only growing darker the more I snorted. The only sound he made was the twanging of his guitar as he tuned it.

After the longest time of pretending I didn't notice his glares, I let out an exasperated sigh and rolled my eyes. Finally, my annoyance got the best of me, and I worked up the courage to shoot him a dirty look.

"What?" I demanded, my voice coming out sounding muffled and stuffed. I sniffed loudly to clear my airways.

Izzy slowly shook his head, forcing a smile onto his face. "Oh, nothing."

"What're you staring at me for?" I grumbled, not losing eye contact with him.

Great. First Mary, and now Izzy. Since when did it become okay for everyone to start judging me and my actions? Mary was fucking her English teacher and smoking weed with his friends, and Izzy was abusing and selling heroin. They had no room to talk.

Steven and Slash were looking better and better than the rest of these hypocrites. Although they'd never admit that they had drug problems, at least they'd also never point fingers at everyone else who did.

Fucking hypocrites.

I was so wound up at this point. The stress of my job and my love life, coupled with Axl's tantrums as well as my own emotional shortcomings, was enough to make me explode. And the blow was only making my agitation worse. I wasn't acting like myself, and I knew it. Unfortunately for me, Izzy knew it as well.

This was exactly what he had warned me about before I'd started with my teaching job. He, like with many past occurrences, had foreseen every mistake I could possibly make. And I was pretty sure that I had made almost all of them.

I didn't even wait for him to respond before I grabbed my leather briefcase (purely decoration, save for a couple of joints and a flask) and stormed towards the door.

"Have a good day at work," he mumbled half heartedly.

I slammed the door in response.