raw power ~ guns n' roses

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"Nice hat." I tell Willow as she gets out of her car in front of Ace's house. She snorts.

      "It's not mine, it's my dad's. I don't wear it cuz I'm all into guns, I wear it to piss people off. I mean, I know how to shoot, but I don't too much."

      "Cool." I open the door to find Ace standing there, looking pissed off. His usually spiky red hair is flat and ruffled, and his green eyes are smoldering angrily.

      "What the fuck, Hudson? You're always late, and now you've brought a girl? Remember our rule?"

      "She's not my girlfriend, she's just a friend."

      "You're out."

      "What the hell?"

      "You're outta the band."

      "What?!"

      "You're not committed enough, and you're disagreeable."

      "Just because I didn't wanna cover Old Town Road doesn't make me disagreeable!"

      "Yes it does! Everyone else wanted to and you didn't!"

      "Because it sucks ass!"

      "It does not!"

      "It's fucking redneck rap! That shit's from the deepest pits of hell!"

      "It's good!"

      "Fuck you!"

      "Fucking asshole!"

      "Fine, motherfucker! I'm leaving then. Lemme get my bass and I'm out. Will, stay here." I walk inside, grab my bass, and walk back out. I don't say a word to Ace, I just take Willow's hand and lead her back to her car.

      "I can't fucking believe that just went down!" I hiss.

      "It's okay. Let's go get dinner." Willow looks at me with her green eyes.

      "Where?"

      "Tin Roof."

      "Ooh, yeah. They have good bands sometimes."

      "I'll see who's playing tonight." Willow pulls out her phone, which has a Sex Pistols sticker on the case, and furiously types something into the search bar.

      "Not a band, but Sebastian Bach. Y'know, the old Skid Row singer?"

      "Hell yeah! Let's go!" I grin. Fuckin' Skid Row, exactly what Mom hates. Fuck yeah!

      "I always did like them." Willow comments. "Rachel especially, with that damned nose chain."

      "He's cool. Prolly my favorite." I nod. "But Sebastian is great too."

      "And we're gonna get to see him tonight." Willow smirks. "Fuckin' awesome."

      "I can't believe I just met you and we're doing this."

      "Rock n' roll souls, man, we gotta stick together. We're a dyin' breed."

      "Y'know what? We should raise some hell tonight too, just for the sake of it." I smile. "Do you have any eyeliner?" I ask, out of the blue.

      "Yeah?"
      "Can I borrow it?"

      "Uh, I guess?" She pulls a tube outta her pocket and hands it over. I use her side mirror to surround my eyes with black.

      "You like?" I ask.

      "Yeah. Actually, you kinda look like Duff McKagan from Guns N'Roses. I dunno if you're a fan, but he's the bassist. Punk, like you."

      "He's my favorite, kinda my idol." I smile thinking of Duff and Slash at the AMA's. Iconic.
      "He's my favorite too! God, he's amazing.

      "Let's go, so we can get there early. I'll meet you at the door, okay?" I say.

      "Yeah. See ya there!" She gets in her car and I hey in mine, yelling a "fuck you" at Ace's house and slamming the car into gear.

       I take the Alice In Chains tape out and put Appetite for Destruction on. Willow's talk about Duff has me in the mood for some GNR.

      I look in the rearview mirror. Willow's not wrong. I do look like Duff, especially with the eyeliner and my Sex Pistols shirt. My face looks similar and I'm tall and skinny.

      Huh. A lot of girls think he's attractive, so I guess that's not a bad thing. Maybe looking like Duff McKagan will help me get a hot girlfriend.

      I park my Bronco in front of Tin Roof and wait at the door for Willow.

      While I wait for her, I light up a cigarette and lean against the wall, lost in thought. I wish it was the 80s. I wish I lived in LA. I wish Mom would let me grow out my hair. I wish Ace hadn't kicked me out of the band. I wish-

      "Hudson! Earth to Hudson!" Willow says, snapping me out of my internal pity party. "Let's go."

      "Yeah." We go inside, and it's twenty bucks total for both of us to get in. Mom has an emergency twenty in my wallet, so I use that. I insist on paying for Willow too, since, y'know, growing up in the South and all.

      "Wanna drink?" She asks.

      "What do you mean?"

      "Like, a beer or something."

      "Will, I'm 16."

      "So am I." She drops a plastic card on the table. "I have my resources. Plus, I look older."

      I look at the card. It lists her as 21. I make a face. I've never been drunk at all. I had a sip of my uncle's whiskey once, but never anything else. I do have a fake ID, but mine only says I'm 18. Ace made it a while ago in his graphic design class at school.

      "So do you want a drink or no?"

      I make a split second decision, one I know I'll probably regret, but whatever.

      "Yeah."

      "What do you want?"

      I make another bad decision.

      "Vodka." Damnit. Willow has me in a GNR state of mind, and goddamned Duff McKagan has seemingly taken residence in my head. I've always seen him drink vodka, so it must be good. I've never had it, but it could probably pass for water under an unsuspecting eye.

      "M'kay." I watch her walk up to the bar, flash her ID, and moments later, she's coming back to the table with alcohol that's definitely illegal for me to drink.

      What the fuck ever. I need to live a little anyway.

      Willow sets a tray down on the table and hands me a shot. I look at it, unsure whether or not I wanna do this or not.

      Fuck it. Not knowing what I'm getting into, I throw the whole thing back.

      "Holy fuck!" I cough a little. That shit burns! How the fuck do people drink that straight? Good God, it tastes like rubbing alcohol! But I'm no pussy, and I'm gonna get another couple of shots down.

      Willow chuckles and takes a sip of her Jack and coke mixture.

      I'm on my fourth shot of vodka when the lights go down and someone yells something. The stage lights come on, and, there, in all his glory, stands Sebastian Bach. My mouth drops open. Fucking Sebastian Bach, right here in Columbia! I try to stand up but my head spins from the vodka and I slide back down in my chair. Sebastian flies into Youth Gone Wild, and I can hear myself shouting the words along with him. And then the scariest thing happens. He meets my eyes and a strange look crosses his face. I watch as he motions to someone off to the side of the stage. The guy maneuvers his way over to me.

      "Sebastian wants to see you backstage afterwards. Your girlfriend can come too."

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