Buttered Popcorn

Chapter 9: April 1, 1987

"Isn't she the cutest?"

Steven made a few strange coo-ing noises and ruffled her head followed by "Aren't you the cutest? Yes you are, honey. Aw, look at you!" While he smothered her with smooches and snuggles, I switched my attention over to Izzy who sat with a content look on his face.

"What's her name?" He looked at me and offered a smile, "Treacher." "Far out," I nodded, "She's a cute dog." "Isn't she? Real beauty." The band was all huddled around her, attacking her with all kinds of compliments and kisses. "The boys seem to like her." I noted, amused at their soft side. Such tough guys, huh?

"Yeah, guess so. I know Steven loves dogs, Duff has a few, and Slash basically is one.. but Axl? Never would've thought." he nodded. We glanced over to the singer who was sitting beside her with his knees bent up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them while he petted her contently.

"Where'd you get her?" "The pound earlier this morning. The dude there said she was a real sweetheart, but no one ever picked her up because of her breed." he shook his head.

"That's stupid. She seems nice enough." I said with a frown, watching as she licked the boys' arms and whatnot. "Yeah, so far so good. Hopefully she doesn't piss everywhere or anything like that."

I snorted quietly, chuckling. Treacher was a large black and brown dog with a chain for a collar, per request of Izzy when he got her. Just as Izzy said, she was a real beauty.

"Can I sleep with her tonight? She seems pretty well-behaved." Steven pleaded, begging Izzy with big eyes. "Oh, yeah. Well trained dog." Duff added, nodding while looking at Treacher.

"Uh..." Izzy glanced to me, clearly not wanting to give up his first night with the dog to Steven. "Let 'em sleep with her. She's your dog after all, you'll have a whole bunch of time with her." I assured, smiling softly.

"Sure, yeah, whatever." he rolled his eyes, giving up and leaning back into the couch with defeat. "Atta boy." I nudged him, getting yet another eye roll. "Look at you go, Johnny Thunders. You're such a sweetheart." I teased.

"Mhm." Izzy and I continued to watch the band suffocate the new dog with affection. After about an hour of that, we decided to go out. By we, I mean the boys wouldn't let me leave the apartment until I said yes.

"Please?" Steven was sitting on the floor hanging onto my arm with his full weight pulling down. "Stevie, I can't. I haven't seen Les in like a week and a half. I need to go home." I huffed, trying to tug my arm away from him. No luck.

"She can come with or something! Please just go! You haven't gone out with us in so long!" I looked to Duff and Slash who were sitting on the couch, watching with amused smirks plastered across their dumb faces. The fuckers thought it would be best if they watched Steven annoy me while they watched. Assholes.

"Steven Adler. I cannot go. I have to leave. Do you understand?" With a firm tone and a hard pull, I managed to release myself from the death grip the drummer had me in. He was now pouting on the floor with his bottom lip sticking out and arms crossed over his chest. "Fine." he mumbled, staring at the ground.

I really did hate to admit it, but he was so cute. He pouted like a little kid when he didn't get his way and smiled like one too when he did. He was basically just a huge baby in the best way.

Glancing over at the two other guys on the couch with a glare, followed by them shrugging, I decided to give in. I kneeled down to his level and lifted his chin up with my two fingers, staring into his eyes. "Stevie," I started, "I need you to understand that if I go out tonight, Les is going to kill me. You got that?"

I paused my small lecture, waiting for him to nod before continuing, "So if I leave with you guys, you need to cover my ass when she interrogates me about where I was for the past two weeks. Okay?" Immediately, his lips were painted with a bright smile. "Yeah! Yeah, alright!"

"Alright, fine," I sighed, "Then I can go out with you guys." Duff cheered while Slash did the same, hollering and whooping from the couch. Steven tackled me into a hug on the ground and ended up laying on top of me. "Steven," I choked, "I can't breathe."

"Oh, sorry." he chuckled, rolling off of me and helping me up. "I need to get ready, though. I'm not exactly dressed to go out." "Sure you are! C'mon!" Slash hooked his heavy arm around my neck and pulled me into his side while we walked down the hall.

"No, dude, I need to go get clothes." I glanced down to my outfit, which consisted of a baggy and torn up t-shirt overtop a pair of black jean shorts. "Nah, you'll be alright. Look- You can use our hair stuff." Slash shoved me into the small bathroom and motioned down to the cans and bottles of products that were scattered on the counter and floor.

The sink was splattered with toothpaste and the mirror was dusty. The boys didn't seem to have a single organized bone in their body. Typical.

I snatched a can of Alberta Hairspray and began styling it to my liking. I looked myself up and down in the mirror, silently critiquing my outfit.

Hair wasn't styled enough.

Outfit looked like I was homeless.

No makeup.

Alright.. I looked like shit.

"Hey! You ready?" Steven leaned in the doorway, snapping me out of my trance. "Uh... I guess so." I mumbled back, reluctantly following him out. Slash began to cheer once he saw Stevie and I walk out.

"Let's hit the Strip, fuckers!"