It's So Izzy (Duzzy)

chapter 8

"looking at you, pretending nothing ever happened"

A light drizzle covered Seattle.  A young punk walked through the night, his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.  A charged expression appeared on his face. Felt completely humiliated, discarded.  One of the only people he knew in town had left him aside, Of course he knew he wasn't the center of the world, but what did it cost Saul to share some of his attention? That made Duff remember one night, the same night he left Izzy alone at that party... It was... even surreal... That... Was it karma punishing his soul? Probably. Now he felt like Izzy had felt that night, alone, tossed aside, discarded.

Izzy... That name still echoed in various forms through his mind. Need, passion, carnal desires? It was almost impossible to know... maybe... Longing? His heart, in that moment of mixed feelings, was like a tree, as if everyone who passed through his life had marked a sharp knife on the tree trunk. And of course, the deeper the brand, the more impact it makes, the greater the importance in Duff's life. And the mark that izzy had left… It was deep. It broke that blonde in two.

House? Home? No, it was just the front of his aunt's house. A small pine tree, flowers, and a few props like garden gnomes stood out against the white fence around the house, which itself wasn't that big. he rang the doorbell, once, twice, three damn times, suddenly remembering that today was Saturday, his aunt worked overtime at the company that day of the week. He remembered that that lady always let a copy of the key under the rug. Quickly, he checked under that cloth, rushing to open that damn door, so he did. I couldn't take another second out of the house, I didn't want to collapse there. Stunned, he ripped off his leather jacket and left it on some furniture in the living room. He headed for his room, hurriedly taking off his black boots. He needed to calm down, he couldn't have a crisis right there, so he just started looking a certain vinyl record on the shelf with the rest of his collection. Finally, managed to find the vinyl that soothed him so much, on the cover, David Bowie and his typical exotic look, "Aladdin Sane" was stamped as the title. Hastily he put that album to play on his record player. He threw himself on his soft bed with light sheets, tried to calm down, that music, that album always calmed him down. Bowie's familiar voice echoed through the room. His heartbeat was accelerated, Duff was shedding thousands of icy tears that hit his face continuously, his bones felt bruised, he felt a terrible internal pain, his body was hot. He just asked for all this pain to end, he couldn't keep still, he curled up in a corner of his bed and rested there, scratching his wrists with his own hands, thinking that it might help.

"How could I let things get to this point?"

Not thinking about izzy was almost impossible. When his hands shake, his sweat runs cold, his heartbeat accelerates and his breathing is out of control, Duff realizes that madness is present, and the only sentence that goes through his head is a mess of desperate requests for him to open his eyes and with the vision still blurred see the thin boy sitting in front of him. He begs him to tell him that everything will be okay, that he is safe and that he will never allow anyone to hurt him. He longs for the sensation of the tingling and relief of fingers moving through his blond hair, the touch of their warm shirtless bodies, their breaths together and their hearts beating almost in sync, his eyes closed tightly and the sensation of Izzy's caring gaze on top of him even though he's not in his field of vision. The way Izzy stroked his chest with his knuckle when the desperation was so great he was trying to rip his skin off and run out, resting a great nagging pain resting in his chest. How he knew exactly how to make everything okay for the simple fact that he knew and loved Michael so much it hurt. Jeff was the only one who was able to calm him down during an anxiety attack. Holding him in his arms the way a mother does with her little boy, and staying there until after McKagan fell asleep. Isbell had been the first to witness McKagan have a crisis, when they were still too young to understand how complex it was.  In the base of desperation, stradlin kept calm and passed security over an almost filthy place which they considered their true home, the tree house.
W