Young and Reckless (A Guns N' Roses Fan-fiction)

10. Welcome to the Family

"We're all sick, Em."

The moment Saul uttered those words, there was no need for further explanation. I knew what was happening to them and it was bound to grow worse.

It was way different back in our 9th grade when they admitted they were smoking pot and actually brought me to one of their sessions in the Hudson's basement. I tried taking a drag from Steven's joint and it was the most horrible taste and smell I ever encountered. And it was only weed! "Herb, organic, the healing of the nation," as Bob Marley would say. But despite all that, despite the fact that my friends were taking these things, I never let it bother me. We continued to trust each other, deepening our friendship. I didn't have to do what they were doing and still doing.

"I won't let drugs ruin our bond," I once told them.

Perhaps it became more complicated when I started to see how they were getting succumbed not just to the infamous greens but to these narcotics as well. Let's just say that Saul and Steven didn't have those pallid faces and blood-shot eyes for no reason; that it wasn't just talc powder on Izzy and it had to be in an alley where he could do his business. I doubted Duff's obsession was only beer and vodka and as for Axl, he was the least hooked, that I could tell. Axl was more concerned about the compositions and recordings, he told me they were to do their very first album but there were no specific dates for its production because it was either most of his band mates were high or shit-faced drunk, and their tours and gigs to promote their group were still ongoing.

It had been months, many months since I last paid them a visit. Steven called me a bitch because I flushed his junk in the toilet. I didn't fancy being called "bitch" when I wanted to help so it was darn good better to stay away and let them be.

So much for, "I won't let drugs ruin our bond."

I was back in my old room full of pink, floral things and pictures of the Beatles, Beach Boys and Rolling Stones. Playing in the vinyl player is the the boy's first record, Live Like a Suicide. It was their Christmas gift for me last year. I laid down, examining the case of the record which contained Saul's intricate design of two roses, their vine-like stems wrapped around the two revolvers. This could make a nice tattoo, he was always great at drawing. I would ask him to draw these strange caricatures of artists or random things. But too bad he's throwing he's life, his talents for drugs.

I lead a reckless

And I don't need your advice

I lead a reckless life

And you know it's my only vice

"What an impeccable timing!" I said laughing. I wanted to tear up for I felt the lyrics getting me. "If you don't want my advice, fine. I'm only doing what a real friend should."

My monologue was stopped by a knock on my door. "Who are you talking to Emilia?" It was my mother.

I quickly put the player to stop. I should have put on the Slippery When Wet instead. "Nothing, Mama. I was just doing some reminiscing, that's all."

"Very well. The croissants are ready and I already made your coffee."

"I'll be right down, Mama."

I did more frequent visits to my family. I would even stay a few days when I wasn't busy in school and work because Papa was often away taking care of the furniture business and Juancho got into UCLA because of a sports scholarship and was staying in a dormitory near the university. I did it a habit to come home every week, I supposed a teenage Miguel could be a handful in Mama's part. Besides it felt lonely living in the apartment by myself.