𝙫𝙚𝙞𝙡 | 𝘞. 𝘈𝘹𝘭 𝘙𝘰𝘴𝘦

ⅩⅤⅡ

𝟎𝟓.𝟎𝟐.𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟔

It was Duff's birthday and the Guns, naturally, had to celebrate it on a bender at the Whisky or Roxy. Linda, however, tried to persuade her brother that maybe the time would be better spent more beneficially in some locale. She had a fair amount of cash to her name after New York, so she figured a little generosity wouldn't hurt anyone. Besides, the guys were poor as a church mouse and their pastimes revolved around clubs and raising hell on the streets of L.A. which branded them as irredeemable bums. Duff, however, remained steadfast in his idea, and it ended with Whisky. He also mentioned it would be cool if she came with some friends from the university. He followed the religion that the more the merrier, but didn't realize the idea was doomed to a disaster. Hence, Linda went with Khatya and Trent.

    Deep in the warehouse district, Trent found a parking spot under a loading dock platform, next to a wholesale nut and dried fruit store. They proceeded down the unlit street. Linda and Khatya tried not to catch their heels in the gaps between the paving slabs laid there at the beginning of the twentieth century. The street reeked of waste from the nearby Thai Night Market. They entered the building without a queue, since it was the middle of a week. The bouncer sitting in the cramped cashier's booth, with a face like an axe and arms like steel cables, sized them up with a foxy gaze—Linda in her black fur coat, with eyelids swollen from fatigue, Khatya with lips coated in burgundy lipstick, confident in a jacket of sanguine vinyl and a shimmering dress and long-haired Trent in a leather jacket. He first demanded ID, then ten dollars. Linda stood close to Khatya, leaned on her, and shifted her cigarette to the corner of her mouth.

-Don't be such a jerk, man. Linda McKagan, you've got me on the list, dumbass.

She smoked her Sobranie like a criminal, hiding almost the entire cigarette in her hand. She blew smoke directly into his face. He barely glanced at the list.

-Tell your girlfriend to give me a kiss, then both of you get in for free!

-Ugh, go to hell.-Linda burned a hole in the Formica countertop with the tip of her cigarette. But Khatya leaned over the table and kissed the man.

    He placed stamps with the image of a woman smoking a cigarette in a beret on the outer side of their hands, and through the black curtain, he let them into the dark, noisy club.

    They weaved through the crowd, the bass from the speakers pulsing like a second heartbeat. Linda spotted Duff who leaned back in one of the booths. His eyes locked onto the trio, and with a characteristic flick of his wrist, he beckoned them over.

The table was a microcosm of various people. The entire Guns N' Roses lineup was there, sans Axl, lounging like lords of the underground. Among them were their chicks and faces Linda didn't recognize.

-I see the party is already in full swing.-Linda said as she slid into the booth, the leather creaking under her. She leaned in to embrace Duff. Her lips brushed his cheek in a kiss and into his hand she slipped a bag.-Happy birthday.

Duff's eyes lit up with a mix of surprise and delight as he unwrapped the gift. Inside was an effect pedal, a tape recorder, a bottle of 12 years old Macallan, and a ticket to The Damned gig in San Francisco. His eyes popped open at the last one.

-Holy shit, dude!-he remarked and squeezed Linda tightly again.-They were already sold out in L.A.!

-They had the last ones in New York.-Linda smiled and saw Khatya scanning Steven with a focused gaze as if she was trying to recall something.

-Oh my God, Steven!-Khatya laughed.-What a reunion. Did Professor Payne eventually pass you to the last class?

    Steven went red and grinned nervously when Slash roared with laughter and patted Steven on the back. The entire trio went to the same high school.