𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚜 // 𝚊𝚡𝚕 𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚎 [𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎]

XVII: Hand In Destiny

Wow, it's been a while... I posted an update on my profile but the upshot is that my exam-year hiatus is over and I'm back, though I probably won't be super active. I'm picking this story back up, though, so I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Estay/Layla POV

Layla gazed out of the window of Axl's apartment, eyes vaguely acknowledging the greenery of the park next to the recording studio in the distance. It had been several minutes; she knew she should move, should make herself presentable, should prepare to meet Will's - Axl's - bandmates, but a strange hesitation was holding her in place.

It felt like she was balancing on a precipice, or, less dramatically, standing at a crossroads. She could still turn away, forget she'd met Will again - in this city, she was sure it would be easy enough, though fate so far hadn't seemed to agree. The thought was... comforting, in a sense. She hadn't done anything she couldn't come back from. Yet.

But - terrifyingly and tantalisingly - she could also stay. Go and record with Guns N' Roses, make some friends, be there when Jeff woke up and have a group to be part of again. A part of her yearned for that - she loved Liana, but their relationship was so much a support network that it was difficult to be completely carefree together. But the proposition was also nerve-wracking in its completeness: it would give her a commitment, a tribe, a... whatever Axl was, with that strange love which had somehow remained between them. And that very completeness, the beautiful tapestry of a potential future it wove in her mind, was what made it difficult to accept with open arms: it would be impossible to run away from once she chose that path.

Layla sighed as this thought settled in her mind. That had always been her problem: commitment. The idea of being able to drop everything if she wanted to, to run away from things, was an escape route that she'd always been reassured by. But maybe, just maybe, it was time to trust. Trust herself to have made the right choice; trust Will to be truthful in his desire to know and help her; trust his bandmates to welcome her and give her that community.

She found herself nodding absentmindedly, taking a deep breath as the decision formed in her mind. It was time to shut the escape hatch and focus on the path in front of her. Perhaps without it, focussing on that path would be easier; that was something she'd have to make herself believe.

Turning from the window, she walked past the bedroom beyond whose door Axl was getting ready (and, she sensed, giving her some space to think) and entered the bathroom with a mind to splash her face with water, getting rid of the night's tears and grime. A baptism for a new life: because, as she passed Axl's door, the decision was made. She would trust him, they would get to know each other again, and she would make the most of this strange chance fate had given her.

I'm coming, LA, she thought. And this time, you're not going to see me broken.

Axl POV

He'd slipped into his room after letting Layla know the arrangements for the rehearsal, deciding she'd probably want some space after their conversation. It gave him time to think, too - it was still crazy to believe they'd run into each other after all this time, but he was glad for whatever cosmic hand had brought them back together. It would be wonderful to get his Layla back, to mix the old life he - somewhat begrudgingly, considering his knowledge of the outcome - missed, and the new life he and the band were constantly working towards in their music, together.

Axl winced as he thought of the dreams he, Layla and Izzy had shared back in the Lafayette days. He was grateful, of course, that - if the recording went to plan - they were coming to fruition, but it hurt that Izzy wasn't going to be here to see some of it - some, he told himself, because he couldn't give up on his best friend. Not until there was no other prognosis to believe in. 

Sitting on the end of his bed, he realised that he'd been lost in thought and stood up, stretching his arms above his head as a wave of nervousness rippled through him. It was a simultaneously awful and wonderful twist of fate that he would meet Layla, a guitarist, again just as Izzy fell ill; he was looking forward to them spending time with each other and her hopefully becoming part of the unit that was Guns N' Roses, but also unsure about how the others would react - and what would happen if, no, when, Izzy could play again. Then they wouldn't need her anymore...

Axl shook his head, banishing the thought for now. That was a bridge they'd cross when they came to it, and right now he needed to prepare for the more immediate river: getting to rehearsals and introducing Layla, Slash, Duff and Steven. He opened a drawer and rifled through it to find a different top, thinking a change of clothes would give an appropriate degree of freshness to this new beginning (and new day, considering he'd been wearing the Queen one most of the night), before pulling it on and exiting his bedroom.

Just as he did so, Layla also emerged, from the bathroom. She shot a nervous but, in comparison to earlier, more confident smile at him. 

"Are you ready?" She asked, sounding surprisingly resolute.

"Yep, if you are," he replied, returning the smile in a hopefully equally certain manner. She nodded, so he held out a hand. 

"Let's go."

"Let's go," Layla echoed, placing her hand in his. 

As they began walking towards the door, Axl couldn't help but acknowledge the momentous feeling of it; a new dawn, he supposed. He just had to hope that the day lasted a long time.

But with the both bittersweetly reminiscent and refreshingly new feeling of their hands clasped together, something told him it was going to.