"What do you want me to play?" I ask curiously as Rachel closes the door and sits beside me on my bed.
"What music do you like?" He replies whilst admiring my tatty Fender guitar that Izzy handed down to me.
"Zeppelin, AC/DC, Van Halen, some new bands, Bowie, T.Rex, there are more but you'll have to stick around for a while to get to know me." I look down at my fingers and start strumming the opening to Stairway to Heaven.
Rachel looks between me and the posters on my walls in awe, leaning back on the bed onto his arms.
"There's a lady who's sure, all the glitter is gold and she's buying a stairway to heaven."
Rachel sings with me and I smile wide throughout the song.
"You have a really pretty voice Lex." He says as I prop the guitar against the wall and lean back on the bed beside him.
"Thanks, you too, so how long you been in sunny LA?"
"A few years, what about yourself?"
"Only a few months, moved here to escape home and live with my brother."
"I know how it goes, the band are my brothers you know?"
"Alexis Bailey Rose! You guys better be decent!" Is shouted before the door swings open and in steps Slash and Izzy.
"Um... what do you guys want?" I question in complete bewilderment and Rachel looks between the two as if they're on drugs.
"Terror, come with me." Izzy steps into my room and pulls me out by my arm.
"What the fuck Iz?" We now stand in his messy bedroom.
"You are innocent. You are untainted. You will not hang around Rachel or the rest of Skid without myself, Axl or Slash there."
"I'm not innocent Izzy and you don't tell me who I can and cannot see or talk to."
I leave the room and open my own bedroom door only to find Steven laid across my floor sleeping peacefully.
"Why?" I whisper before grabbing my packet of cigarettes and leaving the room again towards the main room.
Both bimbos and Erin have left and the company now consists of Rachel, Duff and a Skid boy on one sofa whilst Axl sits on the other with another two Skid Row guys, one missing.
I sit on the arm of the chair beside my brother and look across at Rachel, giving him a sympathetic smile, shaking my Marlboro packet and heading towards the apartment door.
"Going for a smoke!"
"Hey I'll come with." Someone says as I hear someone stand from the sofa and trot down the hallway behind me.
"You cold?" Rachel asks as he takes another puff on a cigarette as we walk down the lamp lit street together.
"A little, you want to go back?" I reply as I look up at him.
"If we go back, that would mean cutting our first date short." He winks as he shrugs of his leather jacket. "Here." He hands it to me and helps slip it onto my shoulders, leaving himself in just a white t-shirt.
"Looks good on you." He laughs.
"Thanks." I return his laugh as I pull the jacket sleeves up to find my hands. His jacket is warm and smells like rock n roll: aftershave with smoke and whiskey.
"So you like living with Izzy and Axl?"
"I guess, I mean, it's hard with them being my brothers and all."
"I get that, but we're still okay for that gig next week?"
"Of course!"
Making our way to the apartment the small abandoned lobby clock stating the time as 3am.
Once in the apartment, there are sleeping bodies in every available space, most snoring with bottles still clasped in hand.
"Well, you want to bunk with me or find some floor space?" I chuckle as I make my way back to my room, opening the door to find Steven still where I left him, but this time there is a body in my bed too.
"Sorry Rachel, maybe another time, it seems I already have a couple room mates for tonight, you could check Axl or Izzy's rooms though?" I put my hands on his solid chest and place a small kiss on his stubbly cheek, dodging his chain.
"Oh, here's your jacket back."
"Don't worry about it, it suits you." He grins as he turns on his cowboy boot heel and steps down the hallway towards Axl's room.
"So you and Rachel huh?" Is slurred quietly from my bed and under a mass of blankets.
"Just shut up and move over McKagan, I'll be pissed if you've had or still have a blonde bimbo in my bed." I grumble as I strip off my tight jeans and replace them with stripes pyjama bottoms, climbing into my warm bed with the annoyingly attractive bassist.
"Why would I want any other girl." He says quietly as an arm pulls me into his lanky body, his messy blonde head resting on my collar before his breathing slows. I soon follow him into a deep sleep wondering what he meant by never wanting another girl. Does he like someone?
