Nervous

2016

“Holy shit, this is so exciting!” said Duff, jumping up and down like a pogo stick. The hall backstage was so tight I was worried he was gonna whack himself off the bricks. The nervous energy was everywhere; my defibrillator was gonna be working overtime for damn sure. I brushed my hair out of my eyes.

“Damn, Duff, did you have your sugar this morning or something?” Richard laughed, finishing off his water.

“Maybe?” Duff grinned, wiping sweat off his face. I couldn’t help but smile; it was all so surreal and fucking amazing. I felt like I was--home again. Things had changed for sure; I was older, and my hand hurt in the morning sometimes, and my old buddy Jack Daniels and I were no longer friends. And I had some small flecks of silver in my mop, and sometimes I got stiff if I sat for too long. But I was still me. I knew it in my healing heart.

And speaking of my heart---

Axl was at the back of the group, a bit removed from the rest of us. He looked set, ready, but...tense. And he was staring into space. Definitely not like the Axl I remembered...But then he picked his head up and caught my eyes. And then the universe passed between us…

        “Junkie!”

        “Dictator!”

        “Alcoholic!”

        “I fucking quit.”

        “He’s a fucking cancer…”

        “I have no regrets about leaving…”

I reached where he was standing and put a hand on his shoulder. He started a little, but he met my eyes again. That mildly surprised and open look he only showed around me… I remember it so well…

    “Hey...you ok?” I asked him. He nodded, but his jaw was still clenched. When no one was paying much attention, I dragged him gently into a storage closet and shut the door. It was so tight that we were half a foot away from each other. It was pitch dark; some curly-haired idiot forgot to turn on a light. Duh. All the noise from the crowd and everything else fell away; all I could hear was him breathing softly. I always liked that...Neither one of us said anything for a little.

    “Nervous?” I asked him, genuinely concerned. Then I remembered he couldn’t see my face in the dark.

    “No.” I heard him say right in front of me. I smiled, even though he couldn’t see it. And just like that no time had passed whatsoever. I reached out blindly in the dark, but somehow I knew exactly where the edges of his body were; I found his round shoulder and ran a hand slowly, lightly down his arm, all the way to the chain and leather bracelets around his wrist...I tugged on each one gently. There were so many...I felt him shiver slightly.

        “The fact that he has anything to say about it is...it’s whatever.”

        “One of us will die before it happens...and as sad as it is, it’s the truth.”

    I let my hand wander back up his arm and over his shoulder, brushing the cold chains around his neck, clashing with the intense warmth of his body. Just like we used to, before--

        “Just shut up and sing!”

        “It’s like going through a divorce--”

        “He’s like a version of the Ayatollah.”

        “I’ll kick your fucking ass!”

    I could feel him trembling slightly, feel the electricity crackle around us, in the air. It was intoxicating....My hand kept wandering, and somehow I knew just where to touch...his heart was pounding against my palm…

    “Liar.” I smiled in a whisper. I heard him laugh in the dark. And a soft touch against my hand.

    “I’m not.” I heard him say in his deep voice, slightly scratchy from the last few days of rehearsal. Warm fingertips closed on my hand, pressing it tight to his chest. The electricity was sparking---

    “Show me.”

    Lips, warm, inviting and sweet, on mine, asking for permission...God, I missed this so much. Every fiber of my being screamed for it when I laid awake in strange hotel rooms in strange places while trying not to listen to Duff and Scott laughing at Comedy Central next door. I missed it in the shower every morning before a show, and immediately after getting offstage into another black car. God, I NEED him, I always did..I felt my hand wind itself in his hair. There was so much less of it now; it was shorter not quite as red, but it was still just as soft as I remember it. His skin was still warm and soft. His voice still warm and deep, though slightly rough in spots. He no longer tasted like gin and nicotine, but like spearmint; his pack a day Mentos habit he picked up since he quit smoking. I just couldn’t stop touching him, like I was afraid I’d forget how he felt if I took my hands away from his body. His touch was so gentle…He was in my blood, in my breath, my every thought...It was like nothing had changed after all...

        “He’s so intelligent, super intelligent. And he’s such a talented guy…”

        “We’re like brothers, really.”

“I think a majority of the tension has dissipated…”

“I think it was long overdue….”

    I only pulled away to breathe, because he took it all away. I could him hear breathing in between the breaths I was gasping for. I pushed the bandana up and off his head so I could actually run my fingers all the way through his short, wavy hair. I didn’t need to see him to know what he looked like; even though we’d changed physically, all the things that I’d loved about him were still there.

    “I’m sorry…” I heard him breathe. “God, I’m so sorry...sorry for everything…”

    I stared at where I knew he was in the dark. But I knew..he’d been waiting 23 years…

    “I know.” I whispered, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and threading through his hair. He pressed his head against my neck and hugged my waist. “There’s nothing you need to say. I promise.” I could sense him looking at my feet, so I tilted his chin up. “Everything is ok. I’ve...missed this. All of it. And...you. I’ve missed you.”

    A brief pause…

    “I’ve missed you too…” I squeezed him.

    “And the fans have missed us too. Let’s not disappoint, shall we?” I smiled. He laughed, and fumbled for the doorknob. We walked out, trying to look inconspicuous. Duff caught sight of us, but if he knew, he said nothing about it.

    “You guys ready, or are we bailing?” Duff grinned. And Axl and I shared a knowing look.

    “Yeah. Let’s go.” Axl said, putting on his jacket. He smiled sideways at me and I shared it, picking up my guitar.