A Compelling Life

10. Backstage-part 2

I can hear the faint sound of running water when I approach the bathroom. "AXL?" I shriek, my voice echoing in the empty hallway. No response. I frantically knock on the door and I'm about to singlehandedly batter it down when, to my relief, I realize that it's not locked. I step into the dark bathroom, my heart pounding in my chest in fear of what I'll encounter there.

Once my eyes adjust to the darkness, I see three shower stalls, each divided by a small partition wall. The shower in the third stall is running, but I don't see anybody standing underneath it. Shit. This can't be a good sign.

My breath halts when I see Axl sitting in the corner, hugging his knees while he's resting his head against the cold tiles. His eyes are closed. I stop in my tracks for a moment, unsure what to do, but then adrenalin takes over and I hurry towards him, grabbing his arm to check his pulse.

As soon as I put my fingers down on his radial artery, a startled Axl opens his eyes, capturing my wrist into a tight grip. Thank God, he's still alive. "What the fuck-...," he starts growling, but I cut him off by locking him into an intense embrace as I begin to sob uncontrollably, my hot tears blending with the cold water that washes over us.

"Jesus Axl, I thought you were dead," I sniff, desperately trying to choke back the tears.

Axl's body begins to let go of its initial tenseness and he slowly brings his arms to my back, carefully committing to our caress. We just sit there in silence for a while, unspoken words lingering between us, holding on to each other for dear life. I don't understand why he seems so upset, shattered almost, his eyes bearing all the grief in the world when he appeared to be walking on air just hours ago.

His voice cracks when he finally speaks. "Thank you."

I give him a puzzled look. "For what?"

"For caring", he simply states, gently cupping my face and wiping away my tears.

I do care, he's right about that. I care about him to an extent that scares the hell out of me, to be honest. I know it's foolish, I mean, I've only seen him 3 times in my entire life, but it's impossible to deny the fact that I'm falling for this guy.

"I feel like I should be the one comforting you, not the other way around," I protest when he softly starts stroking my hair.

"It's enough you're here," he answers, shrugging his shoulders.

It's sweet of him to say that, but still, I can't fight the feeling that there's something he's not telling me. I can barely bring myself to ask him what caused his sudden distress, afraid that I might not want to hear his answer. "Axl....what happened?"

He heaves a weary sigh. "It's hard to explain. There's so much happening in my life right now. It's fucking hard to wrap my head around it. You should've seen our first few shows in the Troubadour, there were two stray alcoholics and some strippers on their lunch break for an audience back in those days. And now.... It's like, you have to live up to people's expectations when your reputation precedes you. And that can be the hardest fucking thing in the world. Sometimes I need some time on my own, just to remain sane. "

Who would've thought that Axl, the self-confident king of the urban jungle, was even capable of feeling insecure? I stare at him in disbelief. "Are you afraid you can't live up to those expectations? Because you killed it on that stage tonight. I'm not lying, that show was perfect."

He waves my compliments aside. "Thanks, but that was far from fucking perfect. Duff screwed up the main riff on 'It's so easy', I messed up the lyrics on 'Rocket Queen'....I wrote that fucking song you know. And don't even get me started on Steven, that guy's bringing himself to the brink of the fucking abyss with the amount of brown he shoves into his veins."

Steven uses heroin? I honestly didn't notice that, neither did I notice Axl or Duff slipping up, and I'm sure the rest of the audience wasn't aware of it too. "Well, I loved it. And so did everybody else."

He's quite the perfectionist, that's for sure. That can't be easy with 4 loose cannons being your bandmates.

"Yeah, I guess it was ok from a lay perspective, " he allows himself to give in a little.

Getting worked up over small things has snapped him out of his earlier melancholy state. Clearly, anger is an emotion that's easier to process for him, and with the two emotions evening each other out, he seems to have collected himself again.

Like a spell that's been broken, I become aware of the absurdity of this whole situation. Here we are, a butt naked Axl and a fully clothed, soaking wet me, my mascara probably running so far under my eyes I resemble a fucking panda bear, freezing our balls off on the cold bathroom floor.

"Now that we got that figured out, can we get outta here? This is not exactly where I'd expected myself to be when you invited me backstage tonight", I chuckle, a smile creeping onto my face.

Axl follows my example, and seeing him turning his frown upside down sure is a sight for sore eyes. "Yeah, me neither. This wasn't what I had in mind when I thought about how I'd get you wet".

"You better take me home to show me what you did have in mind then," I coo as he stands up and throws me over his shoulder in one swift motion.

"Will do! Let's get you outta those wet clothes and into your bed," he cheekily replies, smacking my ass as we finally leave the shower stall in prospect of yet another passionate performance.