Buttered Popcorn

Chapter 11: April 17, 1987

"Dude, seriously? No fucking way, you're bullshitting."

"I'm dead serious." I sighed. This was the fourth time I've told Duff that the argument between Les and I was legit. I had three trash bags of my clothes sat against the wall outside of the front door so they wouldn't see. Yesterday was my last day until Les would narc on me to the cops, so I decided to head to the boys' apartment and hope for the best.

"Fuck! Well, while we're on tour you could probably stay here. We're packing most of our shit, anyway. How long do you have until she kicks you out?" "Uh.. 'till yesterday. She said she'd call the cops if I wasn't packed before then." He went silent for a moment, looking like he was thinking.

"Alright, give me one second." He held up a finger and smiled before yelling, "Band meeting!" While walking to the room, Steven wondered aloud "What the hell is a band meeting?"

"Probably a meeting of the band, genius." Slash mumbled, following Steven and Duff. "Hey, did we take out the trash? There's a few bags by the front door-" I nudged Izzy in the ribs as he came in from his smoke break outside before he could say too much, "You guys have a band meeting." I nodded to the room and he nodded.

After about 5 awkward minutes of me fiddling with my fingers, the boys all came out and surrounded my spot on the couch. "Alright, we've come to a decision.." Duff trailed off, looking to the other members. Axl finished his sentence, "You can stay here while we're touring."

"Fuck! Really?!" I sighed in relief even though I partly knew they were going to say I could anyway. Steven smiled at me brightly, "Totally! Les fuckin' sucks for kicking you out and you're our girl! We'll clean out the room so you could stay in there-"

"Don't even worry about that, dude. I got it. You guys are doing enough by even letting me take over your place." I shooed off the offer. "Alright, well, we leave tomorrow bright n' early, so we gotta get finished packing now. You can go get your stuff while we do that." Axl stated, getting up with the rest of the band back to the room.

Once they were all cleared out of the living room, I slipped my trash bags though the front door and tossed them beside the couch. Izzy came out and glanced at the bags, shooting me a questioning look. "I was hoping you guys would say yes so I came prepared." I shrugged with a shy smile. He only nodded, grabbing a lighter off of the table in front of me and going back into the room.

"Where are my boxers?" Steven yelled through the walls.

"Dude, I dunno! Why don't you ask that chick from last night, she's the one that took them off of you." Axl called back from the bathroom.

"Ha ha, very funny. Seriously, I need them, dude. I'm not going commando for this entire tour." Steven's whines weren't very muffled due the fact that the bedroom door was wide open.

"Why not? That's my plan." Slash's voice rung down the hall.

"That's because you're a whore, Slash." Steven stated with a smart attitude.

"Hey, man. Call me what you want, but I get chicks at every corner. Whatever works." I could just imagine Slash shrugging with a smug grin. I chuckled quietly at the interaction. They were literally a bunch of hooligans.

As much as I wanted to go into the room and spend my last day with them, I decided against it. I didn't want to be in the way while they hustled around each other to pack. Especially Stevie. By the looks of it, he was definitely pretty determined to find his boxers.

I pulled my knees to my chest and rested my head on them, silently waiting for anything to do. "Jimmothy!" Duff called after a while. Well, that's a new one. I pulled myself from the couch and made my way to the room where Duff was blankly staring down at his suitcase.

"What'dya need, Blondie?" I pressed myself against the wall as Izzy and Slash slid past me and around the room. "What pants should I bring?" He held up a pair of black leather pants and light wash jeans. "Uh.. the leather." I pointed. "But I like these jeans!"

"Then the jeans." "But I'll wear the leather more!" he whined. "Oh my God, McKagan. You sound like a fag." Axl called from across the hall. "William! What did I say about that?" I yelled, bringing my attention back to Duff soon after, "Duff, you'll most likely get more clothes on tour so you can either bring both or neither. I'm sure you'll be fine one way or the other."

"Hm.. alright." he huffed, throwing both pairs into the suitcase. "Jim!" My head shot to where Izzy was holding up a black tank top and a dark brown one. "Mm, the black one." I chose, nodding to the one he was holding.

"Jimmie! Jimmie, I need you!" I followed the voice to where Steve was gazing into the dryer. "Hm?" I hummed. "I don't have any socks!" "And? What am I supposed to do?" I questioned.

"I dunno, but I need socks!" he droned, whining like a toddler. "Ugh fine." I scurried into the room and picked the first suitcase I saw, stealing two pairs of socks out of it. "Hey!" Slash called after me as I hurried back out to Steven, "There, now you have socks."

"Thanks, Jim!" he beamed, patting my shoulder and going back to the room. "Jimbo!" Axl sang from the bathroom. "Jesus fuck," I muttered as I trudged to the bathroom where he was admiring himself in the mirror, "Yes, Waxl?" I called him 'Waxl' because he introduced himself as 'W. Axl'. I though it was funny. He wasn't fond of this nickname.

"Should I bring hairspray and all that shit?" he pondered, picking up then setting down a few cans of hair product. "Won't you guys have stylists for your shows?"

"Yeah." I shrugged, "Then probably not. It'll just take up room. Plus, the boys will probably bring some. Worst case scenario, you just buy more." "Oh, yeah. Alright, thanks. Beat it."

I huffed and mumbled to myself, "Always a pleasure." Soon enough, the boys were done packing and heading off to bed at the early hours of 2 A.M.

All of them were in the room on the scattered mattresses but Steven was insisting that he stay in the living room with me.

"No, it's fine. Really, Stevie, I'll be alright out here." I assured, gazing down at him where he was getting himself situated with a blanket and pillow beside the couch on the floor.

"I'll keep you company! Plus, it's my last with you until.. God, I don't even know." He stopped fluffing his pillow and looked at me with big eyes and a soft voice, "Aw, I'm gonna miss you."

I have to admit, that hit a bit of a soft spot in my heart. I would miss them, all of them. "I know, Stevie, I know. You'll see me before you know it. I just need you to promise me that you'll take care of yourself and the others while I can't. Alright?"

He nodded slowly, the glimmer in his eye still sparkling. "Get to bed. You guys need to get up early tomorrow." I stated, shifting to lay flat onto the sofa cushions. He hummed an 'okay' and turned over.

I stared at the ceiling for what felt like ages, listening to the steady and gentle rhythm of his breathing. "Jimmie?" His soft voice was almost a whisper, breaking the static-y silence in the air.

"Yeah?" He took a deep breath and turned over to face me. The thin curtains that covered the window beside the door allowed the moon's light to shed onto his face, illuminating his bright blue eyes even more so than normal.

"Can you come down here with me?" I waited a few seconds, eventually both of our breaths nearly alternating perfectly. Without saying anything, I got up slowly and crawled under the blanket. He shifted to the side to allow me more room and offered me the whole pillow that he had. Chivalrous.

He wrapped his arm around my torso and cuddled against me."I'll miss you." he whispered into my ear from behind me. "I'm gonna miss you too. As long as neither of us die, we'll see each other again." I mumbled back. "Please don't die, Jimmie."

"I won't, Stevie. I won't."