July 21st, 1985
"Wake up, you two!" A pillow hits my face and I groan, not wanting to be woken up. "Come on, Duff has a gig and you're the band manager, but I'm doing the managing!"
"Haley, go away!" Duff says, pulling his pillow over his head. "I'm tryna' sleep."
"Well," I remove the pillow from my face just as Haley rolls her eyes. "If you don't wake up right now, Dylan's gonna send Deanna back to jail."
Duff groans once more, but sits up in bed anyway. "The UCLA gig," he remembers, clutching his head. "Damn, I drank too much last night."
After we got home from the eventful gig last night, Duff, Slash, and I hammered down shots like they were water. As Duff and I have proven, maybe that wasn't the best idea.
"Deanna, Axl literally threw a beer bottle at me when I tried to wake him up, so as band manager, manage your band." (AN: Axl is literally me lmfao)
I roll my eyes, sitting up from my bed. The gig today is the gig the guys are playing purely out of help for me, and I can't help but feel guilty.
I push past Haley, ready to get this small family reunion over with and get to the real gigs the band needs to get signed. My living room hosts four rockstars, Axl snoring on the couch, Izzy in the chair, Slash and Steven both on the floor.
I turn to Duff, who's standing close behind me. "When did Slash and Steven move in?" Duff shrugs, grabbing a half finished bottle of vodka from the island in my kitchen.
I walk over to the couch, lightly shaking Axl to start. "Axl. Ax, wake up," I say, shaking him harder. He continues snoring, I sign that my efforts aren't working. "Alright, you asked for it," I quite literally jumped on Axl, causing the redhead's eyes to shoot open as he pushes me onto the carpet.
"What the hell!" He yells, sitting up abruptly. "Why the fuck are you jumping on me?"
I shrug, throwing my hair into a ponytail. "You threw a beer bottle at Haley in your sleep, I'd be lying if I said that this wasn't your payback."
"Why am I being woken up this early?" He questions, sitting up. "The sun is still out."
"It's two pm, Axl," I say, walking over to Steven, the one least likely to punch me for waking him up. "Popcorn, get up," he wakes up easily, dragging his feet all the way to the bathroom groggily.
"I don't care what time it is," Axl retorts, making an attempt to lay back down before Duff stops him.
"Dude, we got a gig in two hours, we need to get ready," and by ready, Duff meant drink a lot of alcohol in order to be somewhat sober by the time the gig rolls around, just to get drunk again at the venue.
I decide to let Duff handle Axl as I move over to the next one in line, Izzy. "Isbell, wake up," I call out, pushing him lightly.
He wakes up quicker than the rest of the other two I've woken up, with a lot less questions than Axl had, yet surprisingly saying more than Steven had. "Oh right, early gig today."
At one point in my life, I would've laughed at the fact that Izzy had referred to two pm as early. But now, I completely understand. "Alcohol's in the fridge," I respond, making my way over to Slash.
Slash is quite literally cuddled up with his guitar, causing me to believe he fell asleep playing. "Slash, wake up," I gently nudge his leg with my foot, but he doesn't wake up. I strum his guitar, loudly and badly, making no decent musical sound whatsoever.
He sits up, his head bashing into mine. "Ow!" I groan, holding my forehead with my hand. "Fuck, you'd think those curls would give you more cushion."
I glare at Duff as he bursts into laughter, stepping in front of him. He's about a foot taller than me, causing me to look up at him. I smirk, "shut up, McKagan," I grab the bottle from his hand, chugging down most of the foul liquid.
"Make me, Caine," I decide to make his words true, putting my palm on the back of his neck and pulling his head down. I press my lips to his, despite him having to lean down quite far to be able to kiss me.
Suddenly, something hits my back and I turn around to see Axl, a scowl on his face. "Get a fucking room," he orders as I glance down at the throw pillow from my couch he threw at us.
"In case you're unaware, Rose, this is my house," I inform him as Steven and Haley head back into the living room.
"Our house," Haley heads into the living room, plopping down onto the couch next to Axl. "In case you're unaware," she smirks at me and I roll my eyes at her stealing of my words.
•••
"Tracii Guns is here," Haley says as she gestures to the denim covered man standing in the front of the crowd. "Isn't he formerly a Guns N' Roses member?"
I nod, having had the rundown of all the band's history before becoming their manager. It's important to know everything I possibly could about them.
"Ah, if it isn't my lovely sisters," I recognize the voice of Dylan immediately, both Haley and I turning around to see him standing there, shirtless, with just a pair of khaki shorts on.
"I'm not your sister," I growl, my hatred for him growing stronger by the minute. "After this gig, we're square, got it?"
He grips my arm, getting right in my face. "We're square when I say we're square, Delores. Don't act like you're in charge," he says through clenched teeth.
"Get off of her, Dylan," Haley, Dylan's blood sister, the one girl he'll never hurt. My father married Dylan's mother years ago, and since then I've seen Dylan through a half dozen abusive relationships where he treated them like shit.
"Haley, Haley, Haley, how many times have I had to tell you to stop getting involved in my business?" He releases my arm, and I look down to see the unmistakable mark of a hand print wrapped around my arm. "They're a good band, Dee. It'll be a shame when your father takes them from you."