A Compelling Life

14. Where do we go now?

L.A., 20th of July 1987

There are days when you just wish you could have stayed in bed, hiding under the blankets, isolating yourself from the big, bad world outside. I just know this day is going to suck balls right after I wake up and look at myself in the bathroom mirror. Shit. A zit big enough to have its own seat on the bus has formed on my chin overnight. A sudden skin breakout usually isn't the worst thing in the world, but when you have a photo shoot for a facewash ad planned for that very same afternoon, and an important album release party to attend to that evening, well.... it kinda is.

To make matters even worse, Corey and I get stuck in a traffic jam on the way to Elite's, another proof that luck is not on my side today. Needless to say, Helena isn't very pleased with me when I rush into her office 15 minutes late. She looks me up and down as I make my apologies, lingering her evil gaze upon the monstrosity on my chin.

"What the hell is that?" she spits out.

"Oh, this? I decided to bring a friend to the shoot. Meet Henry," I answer in a feeble attempt to lighten the mood a little.

Too bad Helena isn't exactly known for her sense of humor, which she shows by giving me one of her signature death stares. "I'm pretty sure our client didn't invite Henry to come along with you. I'll call him and Brandy in to deliberate on it."

Brandy gives me a reassuring wink when she steps into the office and while I love her for that, I'm afraid that even her exceptional makeup skills aren't going to be able to erase this problem. Still, it's nice to see a friendly face in awkward times like these.

She's followed by Phil, the facewash representative, who quickly introduces himself before he starts circling around me, preoccupiedly rubbing his chin and tilting his head to look at me from time to time like I'm some kind of extraterrestrial life force. After what feels like hours of uncomfortable silence and deep thinking on his side, he finally comes up with the luminous idea to make the ad a before-and-after-one. "It's brilliant, if I do say so myself! We can shoot the before part now and we'll have you back once that...thing has disappeared!" Just fucking great, I'll be known as pimple girl from now on. I bet you Cindy Crawford NEVER finds herself in situations like this.

I'm relieved to leave Helena and Phil behind as Brandy and I proceed to the dressing room, where she zealously starts applying make-up on the lost cause that is my face. "So, how have you been doing? Still seeing that cute ginger dude?"

"Yeah, his band actually has an album coming out tomorrow, so there's a big party tonight at David Geffen's villa in Malibu." I try to sound enthusiastic, but the truth is: I'm not.

As much as I love the music and lyrics on 'Appetite for Destruction', I can't shake the feeling that the title is some kind of prophecy for how my relationship with Axl will be affected by it. In less than a month, Guns 'n Roses will start the first leg of their tour with The Cult. The album and the tour have left us at a crossroad, and I'm afraid that what hasn't even fully begun yet will end when we're forced to take different directions in the parting of ways.

Axl and I have been seeing each other a lot in the last few weeks, and I've gotten to know him a lot better during that short period of time. He spends almost every night at my apartment, leaving before dawn when he's feeling restless and anxious like he does so many times, and staying until the morning comes to cuddle up to me on the sacred moments when his mind is at peace. He lives an unapologetic life of great highs and terrible lows, in which the inner child that's hidden underneath his tough exterior is craving for the recognition he never got when he was younger. I just wish the timing would have been different, so I could've been there for him. But he'll be off to greater adventures soon, and the thought of losing him seems unbearable, yet inevitable.

When Brandy absentmindedly starts singing along to Michael Jackson's 'I just can't stop loving you' on the radio while she's working on my hair, the lyrics combined with her soulful voice are so much in line with what I'm feeling right now that tears start to form in the corner of my eyes. "Hey, don't ruin your make-up honey, is my singing really that bad?" she asks comfortingly as she hands me a tissue.

"Your voice is actually really good," I sniff, carefully patting my eyes. "I guess your choice of lyrics just hit a little too close to home, with Axl leaving and all."

An expression of empathy creeps onto her face. "I know how you feel. When my husband went on his first Navy mission, I thought I'd never make it alone for such a long time. I'm not gonna lie, it was hard when he was away, but in the end the times we spent apart only strengthened our love. Goodbye doesn't have to mean farewell."

Jesus, here I am, crying over Axl who'll be going on tour to do what he loves most, when her husband was sent to a fucking war zone. That sure puts things into perspective. "Damn, Brandy, that must've been hard on you. I feel like a selfish, whiny bitch now for letting this get to me the way it does."

"Don't," she objects, squeezing my shoulder in encouragement. "Missing someone is the worst thing either way."

"I'm just afraid he'll forget me eventually," I admit in a soft voice.

"You just have to make sure this is gonna be a night he never forgets then," she smiles. "Tell you what, you come see me after the shoot and I'll try to pop Henry over there for you and set you up with a sexy hairdo for tonight. How does that sound?"

Her kindness adds a silver lining to an otherwise gloomy day. "That sounds great. Thanks so much. You're the best!"

"Don't mention it," she shrugs. "We're all done for now! Time to give Henry his last moments in the spotlight."

I giggle at her remark as I make my way towards the set.

"Oh, and Karen?" she adds just before I leave the room. "Talk to him about it. Express your feelings to him."

"Thanks, babe, I'll do that." And I probably will. I just don't really know how.