Anastasia
This is my first time seeing Guns N' Roses play at a real show with a real crowd that's not the Whisky or Troubadour and it's so surreal.
The crowd is murmuring quietly with excitement, waiting for the boys to step on stage. Despite not many people knowing about the band, the crowd seemed pretty excited.
It was a good opportunity for the guys to open for The Cult. The more people they could reach with their music, the larger the fan base.
I squeeze in closer to the left side of the stage, where I'm sure Duff will be standing, as usual. I hear a few girls behind me talking amongst themselves.
"I saw this band a few months ago in L.A." she says. "The guitar player is fucking hot."
The girl has to be a lot older then me and definitely older then Axl and Izzy. She's dressed in a tight black skirt and a red tube top. Her black hair is teased out perfectly and she wears a pair of black high heels.
Yeah, Slash would like her, I think to myself.
Everyone in the crowd seemed to know each other, and I was the odd woman out. They all chattered amongst themselves, leaving me to stand there and wait for the boys to come on. I was kind of bummed none of the guys brought their girlfriends on this leg of the tour.
As if on queue, I felt someone touch my arm.
"Hey sweetheart, you here all alone?" the person says, and I turn around to see who it could be.
A tall guy dressed in a plaid sweater with dark wash jeans looked down at me. I silently wondered what a rich boy was doing at a Cult concert. He looked like he belonged up in the box seats at the Opera.
"Nope, I'm here with someone." I tell him plainly. He was far from my type--much too prim and proper.
He smirks as if he thinks I'm bullshitting him.
"Are you here with your girlfriends or with a guy?" He asks.
"My boyfriend." I answer, ignoring him and turning back to the stage. At this point, I could only hope the guys would get the hell on stage so this guy would stop asking me questions.
"You know I watched you walk in and he wasn't with you then. He's been gone an awfully long time." the man says, a snide look on his face.
I try to ignore him, but he just keeps talking.
"You don't have to lie, baby. Just give me a chance." he says.
I roll my eyes. "I told you, I'm not interested. I'm here with my boyfriend." I repeat.
He looks at me incredulously and shoots me a creepy smile. "Alright. Hopefully he'll come back soon." he says, and I shudder at the way he looks me up and down.
Finally.
Where were the guys, anyway? When I left backstage, they said they'd be on in five minutes. It's been 10 minutes at least.
Just as I start to walk towards the entrance of the backstage door, I hear the signature scream.
"DO YOU KNOW WHERE THE FUCK YOU ARE?!" the voice reverberates through the speakers, under the floor boards, and into my very bones.
"YOU'RE IN THE JUNGLE BABY! YOU'RE GONNA DIE!" he screams again.
Better late then never.
I watch as Slash teases the crowd with the opening riff, his unruly curls bouncing as he eventually speeds up, his fingers flying over the strings of his guitar. I watch as Steven bobs up and down at his drum kit with a huge smile on his face, enjoying every minute. I watch Izzy rip out the guitar line gracefully, letting his guitar speak for him since he doesn't talk to the crowd much. I watch Axl as he gyrates his hips, moving his hand down to his crotch and back up again. He has a way of making even the most prude girls flush bright red. I watch Duff as he plucks the strings on his bass, his hair messily spread over his face so you can barely see his dark green eyes. He moves with the beat, his body feeling every single vibration and note.
I look around awestruck as the crowd roars to life, as if they've been fans all along. When I look back up to the stage to see if the guys are seeing what I'm seeing, they all have smiles plastered on their faces, looking between each other as if to acknowledge the pure energy that's flowing through them and the crowd.
Their good, and they know it.
I catch Duff staring at me and I flip him off, to which he laughs in response.
The night continued like that well into the set list, the fans getting more rowdy with each passing second.
The guys ended up ripping through most of the songs off the album in their one hour window of playing time. They had time for one more song, and Axl decided Rocket Queen would be a good one to end with.
I was actually enjoying myself, despite the story behind the song that I remembered so vividly. The song itself was not the issue: It was actually a really kick ass song. It was the simple fact that Axl had cheated on me and fucked Adriana, although now I'm kind of happy it happened. If it didn't I might still be stuck with Axl.
The song is coming to a close, and Axl's voice sings in my ear. I'm about to start heading backstage so I can meet the guys when they get off, but I feel a tap on the shoulder instead.
Fuck.
Not him.
I turn around to see rich boy, who is now drunk off his ass, clutching a bottle of tequila in his right hand. His hair is disheveled and he has a stain on his precious sweater.
"Boyfriend never came back for you, huh babe?" he tries to sound loquacious, but it comes out slurred instead.
Not this. Not now.
Axl's voice sings in my ear "....I might be a little young, but honey I ain't naive"
"I'm going backstage to meet him in a second. He's in the band-- the bass player." I tell him truthfully, gesturing towards Duff in hopes the creeper will leave me the hell alone.
Instead of taking the hint, rich boy decides he needs to get a little closer. He turns to his friend, who is just as much of a pussy as he is, and says something I can't quite make out. He hands his beer to another friend and steps through the crowd, so I decide I should probably take the opportunity to get backstage. Before I can move, he makes eye contact with me and quickly squeezes in next to me. He leans down to whisper in my ear. I don't know what he's playing at, but he won't last long.
"I know your lying to me sweetheart, there's no need to play hard to get." he stammers drunkenly. I've gotta get the fuck out of here. Just as I'm walking away, he grabs me by the hand and pulls me back. Then he does something I'm not expecting. He puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me in tight to him.
What the fuck?
And that's when all hell breaks lose.
I hear the bass line cut out quickly, and before I even realize what's going on, Duff's fist is connecting with Rich boy's face.
Axl tries to keep the song together, but the rest of the guys are distracted.
"I see you standing, standing on your own, it's such a lonely place for you, for you to be."
I know that if rich boy and his posse decide they want a fight, the band will be off that stage in the blink of an eye to back Duff up.
"Touch her one more fucking time and I'll bash your fucking skull in." Duff seethes.
I feel Duff's hand on the small of my back, leading me towards the backstage door.
I look down one last time at rich boy on the floor, with blood gushing profusely from his lip. He looks up at me, and I give him a wink. "Told you I had a boyfriend."
He was gonna feel that one tomorrow.
As soon as we push through the backstage doors, Duff stops in his tracks.
"That prick didn't hurt you, did he?" Duff asks me, looking me up and down while trying his best to be calm. I can hear the agitation in his voice.
"No, I'm okay. I could have handled it myself though, Duff. I had it under control." I tell him, because I did. This wasn't the first or the last time I've been hit on, and there's been many a men to get a knee to the crotch.
"Yeah, Ana. It looked like you had that one taken care of real good-- all the way up until he has his way with you in the back parking lot." Duff fumes.
I roll my eyes and start to walk away. I didn't need a fight.
Sure, I was happy Duff had come to my rescue like a knight in shining armor, but I could have handled it on my own. I've done it many times before.
"I'm not a fucking damsel in distress." I snap back at him, pushing the door open to the dressing room.
"You'd think you'd just say thank you and shut the fuck up about it." he barks back, and I've had enough.
I slam the door shut as hard as I can and lock it behind me.
________________________________________________________________________
Duff
I watch her as she pushes her way into the dressing room, locking the door behind her and leaving me standing there alone with nothing but a bottle of vodka in my hand.
I was boiling with anger.
I walk over to the side of the stage and sit down, with my back against the amps.
She was a stubborn bitch sometimes.
Always thinking she can take care of herself when clearly, she didn't have the situation under control.
I wouldn't call some fucking guy wrapping his arms around her in control-- not by a long shot.
Fuck, I needed a cigarette.
What did she want me to do anyway? Sit back and watch while some fucking pervert feels her up right in front of me?
Yeah right. Over my dead fucking body.
I lift my head up and look at my hands, which are shaking with anger.
Imagine if I hadn't been there to take care of her.
He would have taken her right out the front door and into the back parking lot and no one would have ever noticed-- some fucking prick screwing my girlfriend!
And she's going to sit there and say she had the situation under control.
Bullshit.
I'm pulled from my thoughts by Axl and Izzy, who come from backstage dripping sweat.
"What the fuck happened out there, man?" Izzy asks with a laugh.
"Didn't you see that fuckin' pussy with his hands all over Ana? A second later and he would have taken her out the front door and had his way with her." I seethe. The anger has yet to subside, apparently.
"Damn, did he really? I didn't even catch that." Axl says. "All I knew was that if those other fuckers tried to jump in, we were ready to kick some fuckin' ass."
I force a little chuckle. We always had each others backs, no matter what.
"So what are you doing sitting out here then?" Izzy wants to know, and my momentarily stowed away anger comes back.
"Funny fucking story about that." I tell them.
"She told me she had it under control. That she's not a damsel in distress and she could have handled it herself. Locked me out of the fucking room. Some fucking bullshit." I mutter under my breath.
Axl and Izzy turn to each other and burst out in a fit of laughter.
When they finally calm down, Axl speaks up.
"That's the way she fucking is, man. Completely independent. She's been that way since the day I met her. She doesn't take help from anyone, no matter who you are." he says with a nostalgic smile.
"And if you want to keep her around like I know you do, you better get used to it."