14 years - Axl Rose x OC

37

---April 20th, 1991

Lita Monroe stood anxiously on the side stage, gnawing at the skin around her fingernails and picking the red nail polish off. It was late in the month of April, and she wished to be outdoors, basking in the Los Angeles heat that was starting to intensify as they ventured closer to May and the days got longer. It was testing, being a creative, colorful spirit, wanting only to bathe in the Earth's sun, but stuck indoors on a fine Sunday late afternoon. The time was gnawing toward dusk and Axl was already late, only adding to Lita's stresses.

It was only a warm-up show, she had to remind herself. But these shows would most likely dictate Axl's attitude toward the rest of the tour in the coming months.

Lita bounced her leg while Chris, who had surprised the couple with a longly-extended visit (three weeks including their wedding, but neither Axl nor Lita minded), rambled on about the new Maine Coon he'd rescued and would be staying with the on-and-off girlfriend he refused to let his younger sister meet.

"And Randy's just got the coolest green eyes—Mia thought he was shootin' me daggers with how bright they were. I think the long hair just really bothers her, but Randy's only a few months old, and it's not that bad yet. I like to call him my little piggy, he's eating me out of house and home!"

"Chris, why on God's green earth would you name a cat Randy?" Lita asked her brother, eyeing him with an air of confusion.

"He just...looked like a Randy. Leeds, I can't really explain it. You'd know if you had a pet!"

"My own fiance is already too much to handle," and with an relieved expression Lita added, "I'm thankful I don't have to deal with anything more." She nodded her head at this statement, looking up at the digital clock overhead, showing that it was half-past six and Axl still hadn't shown up for warm-ups. The show wasn't until nine, but Axl had been off even this morning, and Lita hoped that wouldn't affect his performance tonight–if he even made it!

Doug Goldstein, Guns N' Roses' newest manager (since Axl had fired Alan Niven, who'd go on to manage Izzy's solo career) paced toward Lita and Chris frantically, his headset out of place but still mumbling into the small microphone. "This God-forsaken man! Ugh, he's gonna' get me fired."

Fuming Doug approached them, seething, "Where is that son-of-a-bitch, huh? Thought you two'd be together; thought once I found you, Lita, he'd be right behind you–God, he follows after you like a kitten chasing its own tail! But...oh, no! Can't find him anywhere, that son-of-a-bitch! Geffen's gonna' push me to the gutter like your man did Niven."

Lita raised her fair brows at Doug's anger, for he never spoke of Axl in such connotations. "Sorry, Doug, he just told me to meet him here—I have no way to help you."

Hysterical, Doug stormed away again, toward the sound tech room–probably to get a new headset–and in hopes to find someone who knew where Axl resided. Christopher looked at his sister, concerned and hesitant, and he spoke:

"Look, Leeds, I don't know much about your guys' relationship–"

"–No, you really don't, Chris," Lita was quick to cut him off, shooting daggers into her brother, hoping and praying he wouldn't continue speaking.

"I know I don't, I know. But everytime I see you two–whether it was when we were visiting Gram, after mom died, or just in the past few days I've been staying with y'all" (Chris' twang pronounced as he spoke quickly) "all I see is this strain–this apprehension, I'd call it–and it's like you're both blind to it."

"Chris, I don't understand what yer gettin' at." Lita said to her brother, confused.

"That's my point, Leeds. I know you both...love each other and what now,–that part is obvious– but, I think, under the surface–and maybe it's only something I can notice–you're both holding something down. I'm just saying this 'cause you're gettin' married soon to him, and I don't want to see you get hurt because neither of you are tellin' the truth–the whole truth– 'cause I'm always seeing this underlying secrecy between you two; and I've never liked that asshole–I've tried to warm up, I try–and I'm just telling this to you because I love you, Leeds, and I don't want to see you hurt." Chris looked down, eyes downcast and almost glassing over.