Guns N Roses One-Shots (vv gay)

Fat Axl/Hurt (Slash/Axl)SAD

A/N

WARNING: fucking sad because I'm fucking sad and I vent in my writing so enjoy it, kids.

I couldn't decide if I should name this Fat Axl or Hurt, so I did both.

Inspired from Hurt by Johnny Cash so you obvi know its gonna be sad. Warning you ahead of time. It gets better in the end though.

~munk

~

I hurt myself today.

Axl couldn't take this. He couldn't take this at all.

To see if I still feel.

He wasn't who he used to be and it was starting to show.

I focus on the pain.

He was trying his best, he really was.

The only thing that's real.

But no matter what, he came back to haunt himself.

Fat Axl sat on his google search bar, the parallel blinking bar on the computer screen taunted him to hit enter. He didn't want to see it, but he kinda did. All over, he's heard people making jokes and talking about a meme called Fat Axl, obviously talking about him. Axl himself only saw a few, but he didn't really care. But he really did.

Enter.

The needle tears a hole.

There he was, on the screen. But it wasn't him. This wasn't him.

The old familiar sting.

He was used to people not liking him, he was used to being hated. He had gotten shit thrown at him his whole life, but this hurt like no other.

Try to kill it away.

It really shouldn't bother him.

But I remember everything.

"Fuck this!" He shouted, grabbing his laptop and tossing it across the room, the machine hitting the ground with a thump. "Fuck everyone! No one knows me! No one ever will! Fuck!"

He was sobbing, fucking crying like a baby. His face buried in his worn out hands, crying his tears out in tremors. 

What have I become?

No one knew how much he hated this. He hated himself and how he looked, every time he looked in the goddamn mirror, he was reminded his beautiful past was behind him. He fucking hated this.

My sweetest friend.

He was just starting to tour, just starting to get back into his grove. He had Slash and Duff and was still on good terms with Izzy and Steven. He was getting better. He was getting better.

Everyone I know, goes away.

No one, not even Slash, knew how much he hated himself now. He would look back at pictures of him and his four best friends. His four family members. How they would laugh and drink booze, fuck girls, sing and play their hearts out as they earned the most money they every had. He fucking missed everything.

In the end.

But it was gone. All his youth. His looks. His friends.

And you can have it all.

He would give up everything.

My empire of dirt.

Just to go back.