After another successful show, the boys decide that they should celebrate, making their way to the bar and letting the drinking commence.
I on the other hand, make my way to the backroom through the small crowd of people that have gathered to watch the guys perform.
Plopping down onto my back upon the small, smoke smelling couch in the dark room designated to instruments and equipment, I pull a ratty blanket over my body and close my eyes, faint music coming from the bar's jukebox and people chatting drunkenly as I fall into a deep sleep.
"Is she asleep?"
"Looks like it, leave her man, it's been a long couple days."
"Yeah, yeah. I know Iz."
I keep my breathing steady and my eyes closed as I listen into the conversation beside me.
"She's 19 right?"
"Yes Duff, same age as you but with more brain cells."
I hear a light smack and have to stop myself from smirking.
"Alex?!" I hear Steven yell as he skips giddily into the room, slamming the door behind him and flopping unceremoniously down on top of me, crushing my small frame into the uncomfortable sofa. My eyes snap open to meet Steven's childish grin.
"What. The. Fuck Steven!" I shout, trying not to laugh under his colossal weight.
"I missed my wing woman!" He replies giddily, wrapping his strong and hairy arms around my torso tightly, resting his head on my cushiony chest.
"And now I'm tired, so I'm gunna sleep." He adds groggily.
"Here?" I ask in disbelief.
"Mmmhmmm, you're comfy." He mumbles.
Looking to my right over Steven's cloud of blonde hair for help, Izzy and Duff stand there looking at myself and the blonde bombshell with amused and curious looks. Duff looking annoyed towards Steven.
Rolling my eyes at the unhelpful pair, I curl my arms around the now happily snoozing drummer and wonder how I got so lucky having retarded friends like these guys.
"Bagsee having an Alexis cushion to sleep on tomorrow night!" Slash throws his hands in the air laughing, cigarette between his thick lips, hair masking his beautiful olive coloured face as he clumsily walks into the room, Axl trailing behind him groggily, my brother smacks the guitarist over the head lazily, causing his top hat to tumble to the ground. The temperamental redhead looking as if he wants to comment on Steven's sleeping arrangements on top of me, before plopping down on the pull out mattress in the corner.
"Night boys." I whisper, not worried I'll wake the drummer, as he could sleep through a nuclear apocalypse, but because I have no energy to speak any louder, closing my eyes once again and soaking up the warmth from Steven's heavy body.
"Night Lexy"
"Night Terror"
"Goodnight Bails"
"Sweet dreams Alexis"
"Wake up sleeping beauty!" Is shouted in my ear. Marvellous.
"Fuck off dip-shit." I reply moodily.
"But Terror, wouldn't want to miss out on breakfast would you?" Izzy states cockily.
"Ugh fine!" I open my eyes and there's Steven, sleeping happily on top of me, head buried in my chest. If he wasn't so adorable he'd be on the floor.
"You going to help me out of here?" I ask pleadingly, gesturing to the mass of deadweight on top of my short frame.
Izzy holds a calloused hand to me, to which I accept, only to be yanked ungracefully from under Steven and onto the sticky floor with an 'umph'.
The drummer flops onto the couch nearly completely oblivious with a sleepy groan as he cuddles into the cushions like a child with a teddy bear.
"Where's the food?!" I state, jumping to my feet and stretching my cramp limbs, resulting in pops and cracks from various parts.
"Next door, the guys found a restaurant and thought if someone didn't come get you, we'd loose parts of us the ladies need." Izzy replies sheepishly, pointing towards his crouch.
"You my friend would be correct, shouldn't we take Steven?" I question, looking back at the blonde man.
"If you can wake him up, sure." Izzy smirks as he turns on his heel and makes his way steadily to the exit, stepping out and closing the door with a THUD.
Returning my attention to the sleeping Steven, I run towards a door marked "stage", barging through the empty space and returning triumphant with a pair of used golden cymbals that were attached to the ancient drum-kit.
Crashing them together above his head a few times and causing (the now very awake) drummer to lurch off of the sofa screaming and landing on his face on the floor.
"Come on dude, breakfast!" I drop the cymbals with a crash and drag the shocked Steven out of the door Izzy just left through.
