"For the sake of the band, Axl..."
Alan 's words were lost on Axl's mind. He was sitting on the window ledge of his hotel suite, a bottle of brandy, and a good one it was, nested between his legs. Outside, the sky was so blue it made his eyes hurt, but the air smelled like November frost, mulched leaves, and sadness.
For the sake of the band. Since putting Guns and Roses together, everything he'se ver done was for the sake of the band. To get them gigs. To get them signed. To produce and album. To get radio exposure. To sell records and make money. Everything was for the sake of the band. For the dream he and Izzy had. For they only had music and their dreams, and Axl realized it wasn't worth shit without Izzy. Or Slash, for that matter.
Was it too selfish of him? To love two people so intensely?
He needed Izzy like because Izzy was the only constant thing in his life, the only godamn relationship he had with someone that he actually could look up to, Axl admired Izzy, Izzy inspired him.
And he needed Slash because, fuck, he just needed the air in Slash's lungs into his lungs, the fire of his guitar, the lyrics into chords, the way Slash used to look a him adoringly.
But now they were thrown into each other, and Axl and Duff, in wich he trusted enough to share Izzy with, where left behind, washed ashore, like twisted branches bleached by the sun after a hurricane.
"Fuck off Alan." Axl looked at Alan. " Book the meeting. I'll be there as usual. Or not." He gave one long pull on the bottle, feeling his chest burn in disgust. " You never know how things might tur nout, will you?"
"That'swhat I mean, Axl. Look, I know shit's been strange. I have a feeling even I know what's going on . But don't throw everything out the window. Not now Axl. You guys are so very close."
"Close to what Alan? Close to spontaneous combustion? Close to the brink? Cos God knows I'm close to something, and you wouldn't like to hear what."
Axl heard Alan's soft sigh as he walked to the door. He would leave him alone . For now at least, so he decided to drink as much as he could before passing out.
He woke up a fewhours later, naked on his bathroom floor and crouched on the toilet as the familiar wave of cold sweat seeped over him. Nothing to throw up but bile, but it was a while before he could drag himself to his bed. He looked at the clock and cursed when it only read 3:00 AM, curling on the middle of king size. He didn't want to think about Izzy. He didn't want to ask where he was. Was he asleep,curled around Slash? His pulse raced on his temples at the thought, hate and rage bubbling inside him like a poisonous cauldron. His very fist thought when he woke up in the mornings was to check if Izzy was still alive. If he was with him,he would listen to his breathing, to his heartbeat, would inhale his scent then sit on the window and smoke. He was never much of a sleeper. Too many nightmares and the fear of being vulnerable made him a night owl, a early riser.
Izzy would wake up and bring him some coffee, steal his cigarette and go back to bed, ruffling his head on his way to it.
"Asshole. "Axl would smile.
"Yeah, I'm an asshole, but can be, cos I have a massive cock. Now quit brooding and come back to bed."
And Axl would crawl under the covers, curl around Izzy and have the only good few hours sleep of the day.
He looked at the empty bed, and cried.
****
Another show. Another two hours screaming himself hoarse, giving the crowds just what they wanted. Duff was drunk before, during and after, but Izzy was so hammered he had to play best part of the show sitting on his ass. Slash tried to cajole him into going straight to the hotel but then Slash didn't know Izzy.
Because he was was a nasty drunk. Plain and simple. It brought up the worst in him, turned him into Mr. Hyde. Axl ignored them the best he could on the van, sitting beside the driver and putting the radio on, but some of the spat reached his ears and he grimaced. Not my problem, he tough. Not my problem.
****
He was having a beautiful steak dinner, alone in his room, when someone knocked on the door. When he opened it, Slash was standing before him, trying his best to hide a busted lip with his hair.
"Yes?"Axl asked, trying to make his voice as steady as he could, for the sake of the band.
"Axl", Slash started, looking hesitant, "I , I, Izzy is gone and I can't find him." He blurted.
Axl's heart pounded so loudly in his chest that he was sure the whole hotel could hear.
"And?"
"I mean. I thought you'd. .."
"Thought I tell you what to do? Where to find him?"
Slash blinked under the harsh lights of the hallway.
"I mean,yes, you.."
Axl put his palms up front. " Do you know what that sounds like, Slash? That sounds like it's not my fucking problem. " He shut the door and heard Slash curse outside.
Half a hour later, it was Duff'sturn to knock. Axl had finished his dinner and had candles lit on the lounge, music playing on the cassette on top of the bar.
"Man. Can I come in? Slash organized a Izzy hunt and I just don't wanna be a part of it."
Axl gestured in."Where's your wife?"
"Sent her back to LA after the show. Bitch was getting on my nerves."
They drank and smoked joints for best part of the night, talking about anything but Slash or Izzy or the band problems. Duff was about to leave for his room when they heard Izzy screams on the hallway. He was punching and kicking the walls and Axl rolled his eyes.
"Axl, can I stay here? I don't want to go out with them in there."
Axl understood. He wouldn't have stepped in that hallway for all the gold albums mankind ever made.
They laid, fully clothed on the bed, looking at the ceiling, hearing as the voices faded and eventually disappeared behind a closed door.
"Axl?"
"Yeah?"
Duff turned on the bed to face him. "Do you think they will ever come back to us?" He had a single tear rolling on his cheek.
"I don't know.But do we want it"? He asked. Do you want Izzy to come back? "Do you? Do I want Slash to come back?"
"I don't know Axl. I ..I. .just want to stop hurting.""
"It will man. Give it time."
When Axl woke up, it was nearly day break. He felt his heart jump at other man's warmth, and it took him a while to realize it was Duff's drunken snores beside him, it was Duff's long body that was wrapped around his legs, Duff's arms that were wrapped around his chest. He tentatively smelled Duff's hair. It smelled of shampoo and cigarettes, a pleasant leathery scent and his limbs relaxed. He buried his nose on the soft blonde hair and slept straight for six long hours.
It became a habit. Duff would turn up after dinner, and they would drink and smoke together until the small hours , then climb up to bed, fully clothed and sleep. Eventually Axl stopped waking up at day break,until one day Duff had to wake him so they could make to the bus in time.
They started spending a lot of time together, going to old record and book stores,reading in parks . They played together and jammed on their late night talks and ordered pancakes, Duff scooping all the cream and Axl picking all the berries from each others plates while reading the newspapers in the breakfast room. Duff introduced Axl to Kerouac one day and Axl was immediately taken by it. They spent many hours pouring over it, Duff explaining or simply narrating the most complicated passages.
One day, while they were reading in the shade of a great oak tree, Axl realized he neither miss Izzy or Slash anymore.
*****
("Here's to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They're not fond of the rules. And they have no respect for the status quo. You can praise them, disagree with them, quote them, disbelieve them, glorify or vilify them. About the only thing you cannot do is ignore them. Because they can change things. They invent. They imagine. They explore. They heal. They inspire. They push the human race foward. Maybe they have to be crazy. How else can you look at a blank canvas and see a work of art? Or sit in silence and hear a song that's never been written? Or gaze at a red planet and see a laboratory on wheels? While some may see them as the crazy ones, I see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do."
"This Axl. This. This have you written all over it. "
"Me?"
"Yes. You can transform simple lyrics into great songs. Really."
Axl smiled at Duff, that looked away and blushed.
"Do you really think that?"
In any other person, Duff thought, the question would sound petulant, but in Axl, it was a manifestation of surprise.
"I do. The band would have no voice. And I don't mean just cos you sing, ya know. It's your voice. The voice of thousands of minds and thousands of thoughts. When your voice reach all those thousands of people Axl,you'll be more famous than Kerouac. Really."
Axl asked himself how could a man so intelligent and cultured could hide behind a vodka bottle and a bass.
Granted, he was not articulated. His manners were not impressive. But he had a sharp, intelligent and well read brain and Axl admired him for it.
That night, Axl took his pants off to sleep. By the end of the week, they were sleeping in their underwear. It didn't feel strange. It didn't feel forced. It felt natural and easy, like everything he been doing since he left Izzy.
One night, after the show, one member of the crew had a party on his room. They went in for a while, and Axl found himself dancing for the first time in ages. Izzy, Slash and Steven were there too, but Axl barely acknowledged them. He only had eyes for Duff, and he found, mildly embarrassed by the rush it gave him, that Duff only had eyes for him.
He was still light headed when they entered his room and Duff hugged him on the narrow hallway. They didn't hug much. In fact, the only physical contact they had was when they slept, and it was broken as soon as both waked up.
It took Axl by surprise, but he relaxed, feeling Duff's amusement rumble on his chest.
"What are you laughing about?" Axl asked, his nose tucked under Duff's chin.
"I dunno. Guess I'm sorta happy."
Axl looked up at his face and closed his eyes when their lips met. Soft skin and that rugged, masculine smell.
"We shouldn't." Axl said simply.
"I know. I fucking know. But I want to." He panted on Axl's ear. "I fucking want to."
Axl looked at Duff again.
"Yeah. Just this once."
Duff pressed Axl's body against the wall.
Just this once, Axl thought. They were not fooling.
They were not fooling.
End of Book One
THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR READING!