Deanna • Duff McKagan

Chapter Twenty • Ruined Reputation

August 26th, 1985

"Um, I'm not sure if my boss would like to book them a gig, all of the clubs on Sunset heard about The Seance show," the woman on the other end of the phone line explains. "Sorry."

The line goes dead, and I groan out loud, flipping to the next page of the phone book. That's the fourth venue that has denied the band, all because of that drunken show exactly a month ago.

It's around two p.m., and I've been making phone calls since I woke up a few hours ago. Granted, I bet this isn't just the fault of the boys' last performance, I'm sure my father has something to do with this as well.

"Be quiet, there's people sleeping," Duff smirks as he walks over to me from my bedroom. He's right, like every day, the boys are passed out around the living room with their random bitches from last night at various places.

"Well, maybe it's time to wake the fuck up!" I yell, my loud tone of voice causing Axl to sit up from his place on the couch.

"The fuck is your problem?" The redhead brushes his hair out of his face, his light eyes meeting mine. "What, you didn't get dicked down last night?"

"On the contrary, William, I did," I know I hit a chord with him, using his birth name instead of his chosen one. But, out of all the people who have done that since he decided on the name Axl, I'm the only one he lets get away with it. It's like prison tactics, if you don't put a stop to it when it first happens, you can't put a stop to it, ever.

He rolls his eyes at me, laying back down on the couch with the thin blonde from the strip club sprawled across him. I witnessed him snort cocaine off her ass last night, and man was that a first.

"What clubs have you called?" Duff questions, hopping up to sit on the island counter separating the living room from the kitchen.

"Whisky, Troubadour, Raji's, and Gazzari's," I glance at the list of club names I checked off in the phone book. "I'm going to call the Stardust Ballroom next, maybe have some luck."

I type in the number to the club, twirling the wire that connects the receiver to the phone around my finger. I'm so tired of making phone calls, I just want one more club to give the band a chance so maybe, just maybe, we could redeem ourselves.

"Stardust Ballroom," the gruff voice on the other end states, a slight hint of attitude in their tone.

"Hi, my name is Deanna Caine, I'm the manager for the next big band to take over the Sunset Strip. I was wondering it the Ballroom would possibly give Guns N' Roses the chance to play a gig at your establishment?" I give the same speech I've given for the past four venues, silently hoping that we'd finally get a gig at this one.

"Guns N' Roses? Isn't that the band that had the chaotic Seance show last month?" I sigh, knowing this call isn't going to end well, exactly like the others.

"Yes, but-I" the man cuts me off completely as I try to explain that The Seance show does not define this band.

"Say no more. I don't like chaos, and I don't want chaos at my establishment, you hear me?"

"I understand," I go to hang the phone on the hook when the man continues to speak.

"Lucky for you, I'm desperate. One of my bands supposed to play on the thirtieth dropped out, and I've been looking for a new one ever since. I promised the people live music, so the people need to get live music. Let me make it clear, the only reason I'm offering you this gig is to save my own ass, and I heard your band brings in a lot of money." He continues to speak, and my heart pounds at the thought of finally getting a do-over gig. "So what I'm saying here is, your band available for the August thirtieth time slot?"

"Yes, they are available," my eyes flicker up to meet Duff's, who could read the excitement in my face. This gig could make or break Guns N' Roses future career.

"Great. Seven pm to Midnight. Get here at six," the line goes dead and I slam the receiver back on the hook, a big smile on my face.

"August thirtieth is now booked, you guys better practice your asses off!" I scream, causing the bodies laid across the living room to stir.

"Yes!" Duff pulls me in for a kiss, the most passionate kiss I think me and him have ever shared. I would be lying if I said I didn't have feelings for Duff, but right now, it has to stay strictly a manager/client relationship, with the occasional stress fuck. That's just the way it has to be if we want our plans for the band to work out.

"Look at you two, all lovey dovey," Axl says, pushing the stripper off of him and standing up from the couch. "I'm guessing you finally got us a gig?"

"Yep, Stardust Ballroom in four days. If this goes well, y'all are going to redeem yourselves and the gigs will be rolling in, like they used to. He said the band they had scheduled for that day dropped out, he's desperate and needed someone quickly. You guys have to give it your absolute all at this gig, because if you don't, it'll take a lot more than a month to find another one."

My love for this band, my need for this band to be successful, to shame my father for taking this opportunity from me... that's bigger than my love for anything in this entire world. The band comes first, before my feelings and before anything and everyone.

This band will succeed, if it's the last thing I possibly do.