Chapter Forty-Two

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Swallowing hard as I sat with my back against the wall, I listened in to Mötley Crüe playing on stage. I just couldn't shake off the thought of what happened to Vince, I was disgusted, I was angry and quite frankly I wanted to slaughter the fucking bitch. How could someone be so selfless? So rude, so horrid, and plain psycho? Not any normal person would go around attempting to rape people. Grinding my teeth, I brought my knees to my chest and stared at the ground blankly. If only I knew who the chick was or what she looked like, I would personally hunt her down and strangle her myself.

I knew what I wanted to do to her, first of all I would shove her onto the ground, I'd then shove my foot into her sides until she starts sobbing, then I would rip her up by the hair, give her a knuckle sandwich, break her nose and honestly? That's not all, I was out to brutally torture her. I didn't care who she was, I didn't care how much trouble I'd get in for it. She would deserve it, it would be her karma and the revenge for poor Vince.

I was more then pissed off and even Guns N' Roses knew that. But they also knew it wasn't aimed at any of them nor anyone in Mötley Crüe, which had them surprised, but of course they left me alone to think. Even Axl did, at first he didn't want to, but in the end he left with the rest of them. I didn't mind though, I probably would have taken my anger out on one of them.

Hearing footsteps and loud chatter, Mötley left the stage for a quick ten minute break. They were all sweating horrendously and the makeup they had on themselves was smudged and all over the place. They looked like an abstract painting, especially with the mixture of black, white and red all over their faces. Tommy and Nikki had came in filled of energy, also half drunk. Mick trailed along behind having a bit of a laugh at the terror twins, Vince was the last to leave the stage and follow behind. He hadn't been himself since we talked about the rape, he kept quiet and didn't really socialise with anyone at all. I knew he was hurting inside, I knew he was angry and I also knew he was filled of embarrassment, shame, rage and depression. The longer he knew, the more upset he seemed to have gotten. He felt like he had lost his manhood, he felt hopeless and too vulnerable. Even if he never said it to me in words, I could sense it. See it. He was almost transparent at the moment, his emotions were clear and scattered and he didn't seem to be filled of energy like he previously had been for the entire tour.

"Hey baby girl." Vince grabs a red plastic cup and fills it with water, the complete opposite to the rest of them. He then comes over to me and sits down beside me.

"Hey Vince." I breathe, taking my thoughts away from committing murder.

"What you doing sitting here alone? Why aren't you near the stage watching us or even with Guns? I would prefer if you weren't on your own." He rests his sweaty back against the wall and turns his head to face me.

"I'm not alone, you guys are here with me. Besides I'm just taking some time I think." I reply, as calmly as possible.

"You look kinda pissed off about something?" He hints.

"No I'll be fine, anyway, how are you feeling?" I tilt my head, keeping my position as I stare at him.

"Could feel better, tryin' to stay off the booze for one night. I'm a bit anxious, that's why I'm not drinking." He murmurs.

"What the fuck you do that for?" Tommy and Nikki's yelling could be heard from miles away as they laughs and almost dropped their drinks. Mick was drinking and contently watching the pair, laughing like a child.

"That's okay Vince, I can understand why. But try not to think about it, relax. Have a bit of fun and let your mind play with the music."

"Yeah I s'pose." He mumbles, turning his head and looking away.

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