The Second Coming || Guns N Roses, Bon Jovi, David Bowie

The Second Coming: Seven

I went back home long after everyone had fallen asleep, and left my apartment again before they woke. I figured I'd go back to Duff's place and go back to sleep on his couch or something, they were all most likely nursing the previous night's alcohol overload.

I grabbed a piece of fruit on my way out, glad to see that the paparazzi weren't outside yet. I'd come to find that they had cycles, almost like clockwork. They were seldom there after five o'clock, which was a blessing.

I was getting tired of walking everywhere, but I knew better than to ask Cap for a car. That would only bring unnecessary scrutiny into my life. Why did I need the car? Where was I taking it? Who was I seeing? It would only frustrate me.

When I got to Duff's place, no one was asleep. They were actually bright-eyed and bushy tailed, throwing each other apples and water bottles, tugging on their boots and combing their hair.

"Oh... hey guys," I laughed, watching as Slash pelted Stevie's ass with an apple.

"Ow!" Stevie cried out, spinning around to stare at his bushy-haired friend accusingly. "Fuck you, bitch!"

Slash laughed heartily, "Why does it hurt, Steven? You have no ass in the first place."

I snorted. Steven bent in an impossible shape, trying to get a look at his own backside. "But... there's something there! I mean, look!"

Axl groaned with irritation. "Slash, stop pelting Steven's non-existent ass with apples. Steven, stop being such a bitch about it, you have no ass. Duff, quit writing stupid ass shit in that notebook no one will ever read, and Izzy- please, stop looking like you wanna fucking kill someone."

I hardly noticed Izzy, he was never around in the first place. Something was up, I could tell.

"Been there, done that." Izzy rolled his eyes, not bothering to even look in Axl's direction.

"Okay, I can't deal with your bullshit right now."

Axl turned to me. "Where's your new plaything?"

"You mean Jonny?"

He scowled for a minute, and then he just squinted at me hatefully. "Yeah, 'Jonny.'"

He was mocking me. His voice was dripping with contempt, his eyes were angry. I wanted to ask what the heck his problem was, but I couldn't. I was afraid of the explosion that would inevitably occur if I challenged him.

"I don't know." I said quietly, and refused to meet his eyes.

He seemed to like this. He softened noticeably and beckoned me toward the door. "You can come with us to the studio if you want. I mean, if you weren't planning on following 'Jonny' around like a puppy."

"I wasn't," I said defensively, crossing my arms.

"Good," he smirked. I glanced over my shoulder to Duff, who had been watching the interaction with an unreadable facial expression. He met my eyes for a second or two, long enough to let me know that he'd seen.

"This can't take all fucking day, I've got plans with Adriana later," Stevie was complaining as I followed him to the open doorway.

"I thought she wasn't your girlfriend," I teased, wiggling my eyebrows comically.

"She ain't!" Stevie asserted. Slash only rolled his eyes, grabbing a bottle of jack from the counter.

"Dude, you fuck her several times every week. You take her out to movies and shit, she's the only one you're nailing. She's your fucking girlfriend, admit it."