Book 3: You Don't Want My Love (Slash FanFic)

Ch. 8: Home Sweet Home

We had stared one another down like a couple of ravenous dogs ready to pounce. His glowing eyes piercing into me from beneath his signature bandana, and my smoldering eyes fixed on him from across the room. We were both dripping with sweat, our chests heaving as we stood in silence. I couldn't tell if he was breathing so heavily from running around during the show or from the sheer amount of fury that was resonating between us.

If it was the anger, I wasn't quite sure what it was that he had to be upset about. Was it because I was no longer going to just sit around and be another pawn in 'The Axl Rose Show'? Because I was finally standing up to him for once? Really standing up to him. Or did he feel threatened by the fact that I had become just as iconic as he was? I wasn't just another faceless drummer, nor was I as silent as Izzy. Everybody who didn't know the rest of the band at the very least knew the two of us: Axl and Slash. It may have always been Izzy and Axl or Steven and Slash from the start, but Axl and I had become like brothers, and our antics had stolen the show. I couldn't be so easily replaced, and I certainly wouldn't be forgotten.

We were supposed to be some sort of a dream team, the dynamic duo of Guns N'Roses. But what were we now? I was looking at Axl, I could see him just fine. He wore the same bandana, the same pair of shorts, sneakers that blatantly labeled him 'AXL', and yet it was like I no longer recognized him at all. Hell, I hardly even recognized myself these days.

We were a band of doppelgängers. Some 'Invasion of the Body Snatchers' type of shit was going on lately, and it terrified me to no end. This band that I had dedicated so much time to, these men who I had grown so close to...we were no longer ourselves. Everything we had dreamt for this band and everything we had originally stood for had disappeared and, in its place, all that remained was everything we never wanted to become.

My stomach churned.

"I guess it's time for me to go now," I concluded, my glare never leaving his.

"I guess so," he agreed, his features cold as stone.

I paused, waiting for some sort of sign. Maybe I hoped that he would come to his senses, that maybe he would blink, look around a bit in shock, and ask me what was going on, where we were, and what was happening. Maybe if he could get out of whatever trance-like state he was in, this narcissistic power trip he was on, maybe there would be some shred of hope for the rest of us. The old Axl would come back, he'd tell all of the record executives to shove it, he'd fire our agents, he'd start a riot, he'd drag Izzy back and kick Steven's ass until he forgave us. Something, anything.

But no. My brief pause was only met with more silence on his part. More glaring and clenched jaws.

"You're making a huge mistake, Axl," I shook my head as I began to back away from him and towards the nearby exit doors.

"This was your choice," he countered, his lips curled into a sarcastic smile. "If does turn out to be a huge mistake, it's your own damn fault."

I stared out of the tinted window, watching LA fly by me in a rush of color. Tan legs and blonde, flowing hair was all I could focus on. That, and the half empty bottle of Jack cradled against me. My third one today.

"God, its good to be home!" I announced with a wide grin. "What about you, Grant? I'm ready to chase some tail tonight. California girls are hands down the most beautiful in the world, I mean-" I glanced back out the window, taking in more curves and pearly white smiles "Wow!"

"Um, yes. S-speaking of girls, I actually have something important to tell you."

I raised my eye brows, my excitement bubbling as I began to think up a whole mess of naughty surprises that Grant might have in store for me. "Are you about to cheer me up with some hookers? 'Cause I'll gladly accept some hookers."