Straddlin' Stradlin

Chapter 17

May 1986

"Hi, Val, how ya been? Sit down." Steven invites me to sit down on a booth next to him at Canter's Deli.

"Out with it, Steven. What's going on?" I looked at him with a frown on my face.

"Can't a friend just ask her friend out to lunch?" he asks with a big smile on his face that hides one hundred lies.

"Yes, but that's not us."

He looks at me for a few seconds in complete silence, knowing he can't hide whatever it is anymore and gives in.

"Okay, yes, you're right..." His smile slowly fades off as the words slip out of his lips. "I have news."

I glance at him curiously and he announces that Guns N' Roses finally got signed to a record label, Geffen Records, last month. They finally have a manager, Alan Niven, after months of looking and turning many of them down. They finally have a house, therefore they don't reside in the Hell House, a tiny, disgusting studio place where all five of them crashed and where they had crazy parties. The place was so repugnant, it didn't have a plumbing system or a thermostat. They were effectively homeless.

I was euphoric after hearing all the news but I knew Steven all too well, there is more to the story. "Why did you just not tell me over the phone? Why did it have to be in person?"

I saw by the way he retreated his body from the table, his shoulders became tense and the newly formed subtle frown of his brown eyebrows that he was about to lie. I slowly shook my head left and right while I stared at him directly in the eyes. I needed to hear the truth and Steven understood right away that it's in his best interest to not feed me bullshit.

"Alan wants to talk to you. He wants to offer you a job... and I know you've been looking for one."

A job? I was expecting him to deliver me some horrible news. The guys' lives were so goddamn insane that I was half-expecting one of them to have gotten hurt; perhaps an overdose. Instead, he simply told me that there is a job opening for me. Nevertheless, I could not manage to speak up. I didn't even know what to think. When Steven noticed my prolonged silence he kept talking:

"I'm not sure exactly what it is but he told me to reach out to you. He wants you specifically for some reason."

"No, thanks." I reject the offer from the start without even thinking about it.

"C'mon Vale, listen to him at least," he tries to convince me.

"I can't... I just can't." He notices the pain in my eyes and I sense he feels uncomfortable. "Is it because of... what happened with Izzy?" He asks reluctantly.

"Don't-" I interrupted him harshly and loudly, and people on the tables around stared at me weirdly but I ignored them. All strength leaves my body the moment he pronounces his name. "Don't say his name, please."

I rarely cry but I felt tears invading my eyes, threatening to run down my cheeks.

"Please, Vale, don't cry. It's not your fault." He put his arm on my shoulder and I could not hold back the tears anymore, they delicately started streaming down my face.

"He feels so bad. He can't forgive himself. He's being even more... reckless. You need to forgive him for yourself... but if not, then do it for him because he is seriously gonna kill himself, Vale." Steven kept going.

A moan escaped my mouth when I remembered the fear he put in me. I thought he was dead. I couldn't even bring him to the hospital because the police would find him and he'd never forgive me. All I could do was drag his weightless body to my bathroom, pour cold water from the shower on his head and pray he wakes up. The memory of me holding and hugging his limp body from behind to keep him from hitting his head against the shower wall, biting my lip aggressively so I wouldn't scream or cry hysterically, my salty tears mixing with the freezing water droplets, losing hope while I caressed his wet black hair while he was unconscious and my life flashing before my eyes when I thought of life without him made me cry even harder. Even after what felt like an eternity, he woke up and still he did not want to go to the hospital. He simply stood up violently, disoriented, apologized and somehow managed to leave.