A sane angel and a drunken saint

Three years later

" Axl! Get your ass up here," Michael, the manager was roaring into the michrophone.
" William!"

A group of people by the stage looked frightened.  The others were just angry. Or high. Or drunk. This was the audience they should've played for tonight. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep Axl on the stage. At least that's what Michael thought about an hour ago. But with Axl, he never knew.

The manager got used to Axls outbursts,  scandalous lifestyle and unresponsible behaviour. His talent came with a price.

Now, the singer was nowhere to be found. As soon as he got onstage and saw the cheering crowd, he jumped off the stage and rushed into people standing there. He dissapeared in a metter of seconds.

Michael had to quit the show that night, but the boys didn't seem to be to stressed about it. They were all sitting quietly on their seats in the van,  while they were driving to their hotel.
" Axl what was that all about?" the manager pretended to be as calm as he could, but he had to put things clear.

" I didn't feel like it." said Axl, leaning by the window. His mind was drifting and he could not concentrate on a thing.

" You did not feel like it?" repeated the manager. " Well, fuck it, if I don't feel like sticking around with you, I still try. Damn..."

Michael felt like spitting in the boys face. But for that he'd have to get him from staring out the window.
" You think the money you bring me is the only thing I think of? I've been away from LA for three years. Three fucking years!"

All the blood from his body seemed to be flushed into his head. Now all of the guys were listening.
" All I want to say is-"

Steven raised his hand. He was half squeezed between Izzy who observed the scene with his well known silence and Slash who was playing with his hat in his lap.

" Yes, Steven?" Michael shook his head and looked at him with desperate eyes.

" I.. I'm sick..."

" No, you're not, Steven." said the manager stiffly. " You're just a poor motherfucker who can't deal with responsibility."

" That too," admitted the blonde haired boy. " But, I'm ready to vomit too..."

" You see?" Michael made his last attempt to fix the situation. " You boys aren't dumb... You just need a sense in life. In music, Axl."

Slash looked at the manager with his dead eyes. From all the boys, he was the one who scared Michael the most. He did things, the manager had a lot of oportunities to witness, that were made for those who enjoy life without responability. He drank a lot and got himself mixed in strange kind of buisness far to many times.
Slash changed.
He ran into a lot of pleasure on their way, but still looked like a zombie.

" Slash, what do you think?"                                                                                                                                                  The guitarist took another look of his hat.

" Duff's got a question." he said.
Duff indeed lifted his hand like a kid. Michael wondered why didn't he see it earlier.

" Yes, Duff?"

" Could we pick up some girls while we're on our way?" he seemed charmingly drunk.

" What girls?"

" Judy. She said her name was Judy... She lives acroos the street from Shelia."

" And who's Shelia, Duff? Is she the queen of England? Do we have to pick her up to?" Michael said mockingly.

But Duff looked confused. " I don't think she is... She didn't tell me last night..."

" No queens? Well, then I'm afraid our van is full. There'll be just you and me tonight - talking."

" Thank god for the talking part..." Slash grinned.

" You are in deep shit, I tell you." Michael said with a stern look.

" Michael, " Izzy smiled, but just quite. He easily drew attention to himself. If he wanted to. " If we keep on screwing all our shows, why don't we all take a break and just go home?"

There was a moment of silence in which everyone felt different and had by that a different reason for their silence. Izzy missed the Hollywood hill. He wanted to go back, because he left some of his best friends, apart from his band, behind.
Axl on the other hand was tired. He couldn't do much and, ah, what would he give for a staying in bed for a whole week.
Duff instantly decided that there must be some pretty girls left at home. He'll find a Judy there. Steven felt sick and didn't follow the conversation.
And Slash?
He didn't want to return. Too much has changed since he left. He felt it like a burden, if he thought about it. But then again, he wasn't thinking about it too often.

Michaels eyes lit up and he grabbed the suggestion with both hands.
" That's a great idea, Izzy. I'll tell Stanley to-"

A moment later, Stevens lunch was all over his shirt and shoes. The manager didn't even have a chance to get angry when another wave was split onto his clothes.

" I told you I was sick," said Steven and continued vomiting.

Hey! So, yes, the Guns n' roses are  going back to LA. Three years had been enough,  they changed, became famous and didn't grew up. I hope you like it :-)