Ch. 7: The End.

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The crowd was rioting at this point, and still, Axl Rose was nowhere to be found. To Matt's credit, he was on time. Hell, even the newbie had made it out on time as well. Then again, I suppose he had to stay on our good side if he wanted to remain in Izzy's place for the remainder of the tour. That was easy for him anyway. So far, he was an alright fella' and a great musician. We got along decent enough.

"Hey, Gilby! You seen Axl?" I demanded as the new guitarist passed me. I'd been pacing the backstage area for a few moments now, practically losing my mind as the hum of the crowd grew louder and louder.

He shook his head, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes from the movement. "No, man. I ain't seen him since last night. Last I heard, he was still back at the hotel."

I threw my head back, combing my fingers through my bush of hair in frustration. "Fuck...I need a fuckin' cigarette."

"Hey man, no worries!" Duff slurred as he hobbled over to me, a mostly empty bottle of vodka in hand. "Axl will make it. He always pulls through. He just likes makin' us sweat a lil'."

I shook my head furiously, my rage coming to a boiling my point as the chanting outside grew louder. Was I the only one feeling this betrayal, this resentment, this fury? Or had I gone completely insane?

My mind wandered back to Steven and how horribly we had treated him, and I felt even worse knowing that he was gone for his drug problems but that Axl had been allowed to stay even with his array of problems.

I thought of how much I wished that Steven were here now to brighten this situation like the ray of sunshine that he was. Duff was great and all, but I think he had become desensitized to the way that Axl treated us. Not just because he had a habit of gulping vodka and wine until he couldn't see straight, but also because it was usually a lot easier to just let Axl do whatever it was that he wanted, if only to keep him from going off on another violent outburst. Duff and I were easy. We were passive, along for the ride, and there for the partying. But Axl and Steven had never gotten along, and I was staring to think that maybe Axl had manipulated us into believing that Steven had been the root of our problems.

Maybe it was because Steven wasn't as submissive as the rest of us. Even with all of the drugs he was on, he always righted Axl's wrongs and always stood up to Axl when he knew that the singer was completely out of line, which of course, usually caused fights. From our point of view, it was easy to see Steven as the problem child.

Izzy was different. He was blasé as it was, and the drugs only seemed to exacerbate that. Like the rest of us, he was easy for Axl to control. However, unlike the rest of us, Izzy got clean. He pulled himself from the pit of apathy the rest of us were still wallowing in and opened his eyes to what was really going on. He had put up with Axl for years now, and he had needed drugs to do it. Now that he was sober, I think he realized how crazy and awful Axl was. How crazy and awful we'd all become.

I wasn't exactly sober, but the way everything kept falling apart around me, I was starting to see things for how they really were. At this point, it was impossible to look away. Impossible to forget what we'd done.

"No, Duff. This is not okay. None of this is okay anymore," I insisted, pushing his arm away from where he had draped it over my shoulders.

He stumbled back slightly, a look of bewilderment on his face. Bewilderment that soon transformed into anger.

"What the fuck, man? Chill!"

He pushed me and I fought against the evils of gravity to remain standing. Somehow, I managed to plant my feet properly rather than drop onto my ass. I couldn't believe Duff had actually shoved me. I glanced up at him, my mouth open just the slightest bit in a mixture of shock and confusion. In that moment, I saw Duff clearly for the first time in a long time.

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