Chapter I

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1987

"Yo, why the long face, Iz?" Steven asked me, interrupting my thoughts.

"Nothing, don't worry, man." I tried to brush him off and change the subject but Axl, who overheard us, had to get involved.

"Bro, are you still thinking about that chick? You gotta let her go. It was years ago."

"I'm not thinking about her," I hissed through my teeth, trying to keep my cool.

"Yes, you are and let me remind you the truth: you proposed to her, she got scared and ran away. She left you. You gotta move on 'cause she for sure did," Axl replied back with a lot of attitude, clearly trying to provoke me.

"You wouldn't get it, dude. You can't love anyone other than yourself." I shot back, still keeping a cool tone but I could feel myself starting to heat up in anger.

"What did you fucking say?" Axl jumped at me and tried to push me, but the other band members came to my rescue by grabbing Axl to prevent him from physically hurting me.
I didn't really flinch. I'm so fucking used to his anger bursts by now that they come with no surprise.

"Alright guys, let's take a deep breath. We got a show starting in like five minutes." Duff jumped in to alleviate the situation.

Right at that moment, our manager, Alan, came in and told us that the show was about to start.

As we were walking toward the stage Slash came up to me and, wrapping his arm around my shoulder, whispered, "Soon we'll be the most famous band and you'll get any chick you want, she ain't the first and she will not be the last... Just you wait."

I know he said that to make me feel better but I couldn't help but have a bad feeling about what happened to her. It doesn't make sense, she wouldn't disappear like that for no reason. There is more to it, I can feel it in my bones.

As we got on stage, the relatively small crowd cheered us loudly and we began the show. Even though we were just opening for Aerosmith, the energy was still amazing and we had a small group of loyal fans.

After I finished smoking the cigarette I had in my mouth in the middle of a song, I turned my head to the right, toward the back stage area, to spit the cigarette out since my hands were busy strumming on the guitar.
My eyes accidentally landed on a girl on the side of the stage, next to the curtain. She was looking at me attentively, analyzing my every move. I couldn't see her very well but as I was studying her, waiting for my eyes to adapt to the partial darkness, all while still playing on my white hollow body, I finally recognized her.
It was her. The woman who once loved me, before shattering my heart in one million fragments and leaving me to drown in sorrow.

___

1980

Jordan's POV

After an exhausting and excruciating week of work, I went to the Troubadour, a club nearby which is known for always inviting these new bands to play, because there is nothing like rock to lift someone's spirits. I sat on a chair right in front of the small stage and rested my head on the table as I took a deep breath to relax. A few moments go by and as I was about to grab the flask of whiskey inside of my jacket, the lights of the stage were loudly turned on, revealing the band who was about to present.
They were definitely not the expected kind of band.
A bunch of dudes with blond wigs, dramatic makeup and feminine clothes were there. They were none other than punk cross-dressers, who introduced themselves as "The Naughty Women."

My straight face quickly turned into a giggle as I was looking at their strange appearance. The crowd at the club started booing and calling them names like "faggots" or worse, but they started playing nonetheless. The music wasn't even bad but before I was able to enjoy it much, the angry men turned to violence, starting to walk closer to the stage and throwing food and objects at them.

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