Deanna • Duff McKagan

Chapter Thirty-Five: They Want You Back

October 23rd, 1986

I don't know how I ended up here, at a Guns N' Roses show in Santa Barbara. The Arlington Theatre is packed full, probably breaking some sort of fire code. I tried my best to push the ungrateful band straight out of my thoughts, but it just wasn't going to happen. I have to finish my task, I have to see them succeed. That, and seeing Alice Cooper seems like a pretty good deal.

I watch from across the Theatre, seeing four bodies on stage. Drummer Steven Adler, bassist Duff McKagan, guitarist Slash, and rhythm guitarist Steven Adler. But wait, where's Axl? Whether I like his attitude problem or not, Axl Rose is quite literally the voice of Guns N' Roses.

I throw back the shot of Jameson, slamming the shot glass onto the counter before me. Where the fuck is Axl Rose. I push outside the venue, seeing security standing with their arms crossed, clipboard in hand. And there he is, Axl Rose, fighting with them. A screaming match if I ever heard one.

"I'm the lead singer of Guns N' Roses!" He screams at the security guard, tossing his hands in the air. "How the hell am I not on the list?"

"You're not on the list, so you aren't getting in," the balding security guard holds his ground, blocking the entrance.

"What's going on here?" I intervene quickly, trying to not only save Axl from getting an assault charge, but also trying to get him on that stage. "I've been waiting for you, Axl."

He looks at me in shock, but I keep going nonetheless. "My name is Deanna Caine, I'm on the list, and I also get a plus one. So if the lead singer of Guns N' Roses can't get into the venue, I guess he's just my plus one."

The security guard raises his eyebrow, flipping through the pages of his clipboard. "Deanna Caine, VIP," he announces, slowly turning his gaze to me. "My apologies ma'am, Axl, you can go in."

Axl follows me through the front entrance, and I almost freeze as I hear Duff McKagan's voice taking over vocals. I brush it off, grabbing Axl's hand and leading him through the large crowd.

"Now, I'm not exactly sure how you aren't on the list, considering you're in the band," I sigh, yelling over the loud music as we get to the front of the stage. "But you need to get the fuck on stage."

"Thank you, Deanna," he gulps, nodding before hopping on stage with his band. They look at him in shock, before he gestures toward me. Fuck. That's not what I wanted. I avoid the gaze of the one and only Duff McKagan, heading back over to my spot at the packed bar. Luckily, my seat was still empty, courtesy of the rather large Hell's Angel sitting next to me. Striking up a conversation with him before the show proved to be a good thing.

The band jumps into their next song on the set list taped to the floor, but I couldn't help shake the feeling that I was being watched. I know exactly who it is watching me, of course, but I couldn't bring myself to meet his gaze. I avoid looking at the stage at all costs, instead opting to stare across the room.

"Hi," a man in a business suit walks up to me while the band is on their first break, holding out his hand for me to shake. I stare at his outstretched hand, taking another shot of Jameson all while looking him in the eyes. He finally takes the hint, dropping his hand back to his side. "I'm Roger Henway, with Geffen Records."

"Is that supposed to mean something to me?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at him. To say I don't have some sort of a grudge against this man and Geffen Records as a whole would be a lie. Sure, I'm grateful they gave the band the record deal opportunity, but I can't exactly say I'm grateful that my hard work was ripped from me solely because men think music is a man's world.

"Guns N' Roses are your creation, correct?" He continues, ignoring my attitude and snippy reply. He must really need something.

I shrug, gesturing for the bartender to pour me another shot. "Not exactly my creation, the talent was already there," I toss back the shot, again keeping eye contact with him. "I just put in the hard work to get them on the map."

"You're their former manager, correct?"

"That is correct."

"Their relationship with their current manager isn't working out. They aren't getting anything done, and their first album is due to come out in July. We haven't even gotten anything fully recorded yet. They don't listen to their manager, and they don't have their priorities straight." It doesn't sound like the relationship with Geffen records is a good one.

"Okay? Why are you telling me all of this? I'm not their manager anymore. In fact, I don't even have anything to do with them anymore."

"So then why are you at their show?"

"I don't remember what you told me your name was," I shrug, staring the man down. The biker next to me keeps a close eye on what's going on, but he doesn't intervene. Yet, that is. "But Alice Cooper puts on one hell of a show, you're crazy if you'd think I'd miss that."

"Right. So what I'm asking you, Miss Caine, is if you want your job back." My jaw almost drops, but I keep my composure. "You had a reign on the boys. They worked hard, they put music first, they showed up on time and got things done. You did that. They have no respect for their current manager and little to no regard about the record deal."

"So why haven't you just dropped them yet?"

"We can't waste the talent, Miss Caine. We drop them, someone else will scoop them up, and that would be money we're not making. We can't take the risk." Just as he says that, the band steps back onto the stage. "Look what you did, something even I couldn't do, get Axl into the venue. I know you still care, Miss Caine, and I know you want to see them succeed. We don't want to drop them from the record deal, but if we can't get the situation under control than we may have to."

The lights shining on stage make the sweaty bodies glisten, and I have a hard time tearing my eyes away from Duff's shirtless self. Fuck.

"We're Guns N' Roses," Axl reannounces them as they step back onto the stage. "And we refuse to continue the show, and refuse our record deal." The crowd gasps, some erupting in a chorus of boos and chatter about what could've happened backstage spreading like wildfire. "We quit. Unless.." he trails off, looking back at the band for confirmation before continuing. "We refuse it all, unless we can get Deanna Caine back, as our manager. Oh, and one more thing.."

He takes a step back, and Duff steps up to the microphone. This time, I fail. My eyes connect with his, and i feel my heart begin to pump out of my chest. I wonder if he feels the same way. "I'm in love with you, Deanna Caine."

A/N: hiiiiii guys. So I apologize for the long wait, but I've been batting zero lol. I'm homeless and got hurt at work so now I have figure out how to pay my bills lol. Also, this is my birthday present for y'all. I turn 24 on the 25th of February, so like 3 hours lol. I hope you liked it 💜