Deanna • Duff McKagan

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Playboy

March 16th, 1987

"What, Duff?" I groan, rolling my eyes as I feel his gaze like a laser on my skin. "You've been staring at me since you got off stage." Tonight, the band is playing a show at the Whisky, and they're currently on a break. Instead of heading to the bar with the rest of the band, Duff opted to stay behind - with my once again, semi sober ass self. This week, I'm swearing off alcohol, which will only send me to a different drug, then I'll get clean again next week.

"I've known you almost two years, Deanna," Duff states gently. "The conversation I wanted to have with you in 1987 didn't exactly go as planned, you haven't really spoken to me."

I shrug, not exactly knowing what to say. The way Duff McKagan broke me is something nobody else could possibly understand, except maybe Axl. His kid is probably eight months old at this point, and nobody has any idea where Haley even is. "It's not two years until June, Duff," I shrug, not understanding what exactly he needs from me.

"Now you know damn well that isn't my point, Deanna," the way Duff grumbles let's me know that I have gotten on his nerves. "It's been two years, we were together most of that, you can't just pretend we didn't have something."

"You threw away what we had when you decided to throw me away, Duff," I clench my teeth, unsure why I'm having such a struggle figuring out my feelings for him, why I'm struggling so much with my own vision of myself, and who I'm trying to be. "You never even asked me to be your girlfriend."

"You always made a point to say you don't do relationships!" Duff practically screams this, causing me to jump back. "Shit Dee, I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you."

"Duff, you never even tried to figure out if I would say yes to you." It's true, not once did Duff McKagan ever even ask me if I wanted to be his girlfriend, or ever tell me that's what he wanted from me.

"You fucked me on New Years and haven't said a word since, I was supposed to fucking ask you if you want to be my girlfriend?"

"We met on June 6th, 1985, and you have not ever made one attempt to make anything official with me," I was giving him a hard time, I knew that, I knew that very well. Maybe this is my way of seeing if he would actually put in the work for me. Maybe I'm fucked up inside.

"So be my girlfriend," he says it as if it's the obvious answer, with a blank look on his face. He says it as if it's an obvious answer, as if it's easy.

Maybe it is this easy, maybe for normal people, it's incredibly easy. "If you can handle me, then you can keep me."

Duff steps forward, a huge smile on his face as he leans in to kiss me. Before our lips could touch, the door bursts open, an annoyed Axl stepping through. He tosses a magazine onto the table, glaring at it angrily. "Look at it!"

"Axl, we were kind of in the middle of something-," Duff's words don't mean anything to Axl, as the strawberry blonde gestures to the magazine again, telling us to look at it.

I pick up this month's issue of Playboy, flipping through the magazine with Janet Jones on the cover. There it is, the centerfold, Miss March 1987 - Haley Marks. My jaw drops at the realization, the girl who is basically my sister, the one who was carrying Axl Rose's child, nowhere to be found, as a Playboy centerfold.

"I want to know where the fuck my kid is," Axl seethes, understandably. "Even if I have to go to the Playboy mansion my fucking self."

"That's not necessary," I shut my eyes tightly, running a hand through my hair. "High Hefner offered me a centerfold, maybe it's time I take that offer."

"Deanna, you aren't serious," Duff looks shocked, probably thinking about the amount of time I spent during our 1987 conversation telling him that I wasn't interested in the offer whatsoever. "You said you didn't want to do it."

"I'd do anything for Haley," I shrug, thinking about the possibilities that could arise from at least doing a test photo shoot for the Playboy magazine. "And I can't believe I'm about to say this," I sigh, rolling my eyes as I look over at the still seething lead singer in front of me. "And I would also do anything for Axl."

"You're serious?" Axl says, staring at me in disbelief. "I was under the impression that you and I hate each other."

"I do hate you," I shrug, noticing the smirk on his face. "I tend to hate you a lot, actually. More so as a brother though," I scoff. "You're literally like my brother, even though at the beginning of all of this I thought I'd end up with you."

"Whoa, what?" Duff asks, eyes wide with surprise. "You liked Axl first? When did I become an option?" I know Duff isn't offended, the amused smile on his face solidifies that. He's just in shock, because, well, I did almost get an assault charge for legitimately stabbing Axl.

"When I experienced your dick."

Duff smiles, wrapping his arms around me as he pulls me back against him. "Yeah, I think I'm pretty good at that, I've never had any complaints. Although, I'm not sure if I'd measure up to my girlfriend, the playmate."

"Holy shit, girlfriend?" Duff and I don't say anything to Axl, we just laugh. I'm the band manager for Guns N' Roses, I finally have a label for whatever this thing I've had with Duff has been the last two years, Appetite For Destruction is coming out extremely soon, and I'm about to find Haley - the only thing I have to sacrifice is my time for a photo shoot for Playboy magazine. Let's do this.