Lies

Abandoned

Anastasia

When I got home from work, Axl was no where to be seen, but Steven and Slash were on there way out the door.

"Hey Ana." Steven said,  fluffing his big poofy hair.

"Hey boys. Got any idea where I could find Axl?" I questioned.

"We're going to the studio now to meet him." Slash answered, taking a swig of his bottle of Jack.

"Tell him I'm home, would you?" I said, plopping my purse down on the table.

"Sure." Steven answered, looking me up and down.

Slash grabbed him by the arm, pulling him out the door. "Have a good night, Ana." he said, slamming the door behind him.

So here I was, alone, in a house that was usually full of people. I headed for the living room and slumped down onto the couch, letting out a sigh of relief.

It had been a long shift, and I was exhausted. In fact, I could use a drink.

I got up from the couch and headed for the kitchen cabinet. There was a couple beers, which I decided to start out with. I popped the top and slurped the foam from the top of the can.

It was refreshing, and I could feel my stress melting away. "Lord that's good." I spoke, for no one but myself to hear.

I headed back to the living room and popped a CD in the stereo-- Aerosmith's latest record, Done With Mirrors-- my favorite band of all time.

I listened and sang along as Steven Tyler's voice mentally took over my entire being.

"Lolita,

steady as she goes,

toot sweet,

powder in her nose-

Shame, shame, shame on you babe,

Shame, shame, shame, on you babe" he crooned.

After a good hour, I had finished listening to the entire album-- and also the rest of the 6 pack.

I was feeling a buzz, but I wanted to get drunk. I headed back to the kitchen and pulled open the cabinets once more, searching for more booze.

I searched all the shelves and couldn't find anything, so I hit the refrigerator.

Behind the milk was a handle of vodka, with "Duff" written across it in black sharpie. I giggled. "He'll have to deal with it." I said to myself.

I laid back onto the couch and guzzled the vodka like a fish, all the while thinking about what had happened this morning.

Axl and I had done it. We actually had sex, and it wasn't bad.

But I guess it wasn't anything spectacular either.

And then there was Duff-- getting all serious on me. I knew he felt it. He knew I felt it. But I was with Axl, and there was nothing he could do about it.

By 2 AM, I had managed to make my way to the middle of the living room floor, lying next to the stereo so I could change CD. I was belligerently drunk, but I was having a good time.

Whoever said getting drunk alone was no fun is wrong.

Somewhere in the early morning hours, I passed out, only to be woken up at some point later on to the slam of the front door.

"Axl?" I questioned, staying put on the floor for the simple fact that I couldn't even think about walking in the condition I was in.

I locked my eyes on the entryway of the living room, simply waiting for Axl to walk in and come and take me to bed.