Categories > Celebrities > Guns n' Roses > Lafayette
It was raining.
Axl stared at the drops hammering against the smeared glass of the motel window with a feeling somewhere between bitter amusement and nostalgia. Anyone who lived in Indiana knew the place was known mostly for its corn and primarily for its bipolar weather. One minute, the sun would be peeking cheerily through puffy white clouds, and then the next, the ash gray sky would be choked with inky black clouds. It was just one of the many things he had to deal with now that he was back, but he was still undecided on whether or not crazy ass weather had been a push factor. At the worst of times, rapidly changing weather could be an inconvenience,, but it did not seem like a reason to avoid the state like a quarantine zone for smallpox.
Even now, years later, he wondered.
The sound of the bathroom door opening and closing made a sound, but his mind barely registered it. He only glanced up when a bright blur of a color suspended between crimson and gold slid into the fringe of his peripheral vision. It had been on a whim that he invited Dave to accompany him to Lafayette, not out of any exhaustion of logical thinking or randomly drawing a slip of paper out of a hat. Mustaine was simply nearby when the call came in, and the two of them had been getting along fairly well as of late. Bringing Izzy would have been too weird, and it would have revived the memories of Bill and Jeff, memories best left in the time they were created. He and Slash were on the outs again, and he did not expect Steven and Duff to understand how or have the sympathy to go to the funeral with him.
But Dave was a happy medium, someone who had no past in Indiana, but someone with whom Axl had a decent friendship. He had been quit on the ride over, except to bum a cigarette and to alert Axl when he needed to take a piss. It was odd, considering the two of them were known to be just as fiery as their hair, but they made a quiet pairing when they were alone. Axl had his own theory that Dave’s unexpected bouts of rage could be attributed to the bass player of Megadeth, the one everyone called Junior because he was a Dave, too. And, of course, there was no chance of running into any of the members of Metallica, who were far form a balm for Dave’s anger. It seemed the dreary atmosphere of the gunmetal Lafayette sky was just what the temperamental redhead needed to lull him into a queer sort of calm.
“This place is different," Dave observed as he leaned against the wall on the other side of the window. Hazel eyes leaning heavily toward green scanned the sky, the blanket of puffy ebony. "Kind of nice to feel like a normal guy again."
Axl nodded and extracted the cigarette from behind his ear, slipping it between his lips. Smoking was a nasty habit to keep up, and it would most likely end up damaging his voice, but he could not bring himself to stop after all these years. He lit the cigarette and inhaled, then slowly blew the smoke out in wisps of blue-gray, the pale color somehow complementing the colors outside. Dave smirked, sauntered back to his bed and flopped down on it with an audible sigh, but the flop was more akin to something like a graceful collapse. A man like Dave was nimble without trying, his body moving in a fluidity of steps and sways, and Axl had only known a few guys like that. Robbin Crosby, for instance, despite his height, and Jake E. Lee, whose body posture commonly indicated he wanted anyone who tried to approach him to fuck off.
And yet again, Dave was the medium between those particular two, not friendly like King and not cold like Jake.
“Indiana’s good for that kind of thing if you remember to avoid the Circle Center," Axl agreed, closing the blinds and moving across the room to his bed, as well.
He had not spoken to Dave about his conversation with his stepfather, but he did not think he needed to. Enough would be said at the funeral, when he showed up with yet another devil’s spawn, one who appeared a hell of a lot scarier. The people who came would know who he was, and the ones who remembered him would more than likely faint at the sight of what he had become. It would not be one of the climatic scenes in emotional dramas where everyone hugged and L. Stephen Bailey admitted he was wrong about everything. But that was fine with Axl, seeing as he had never liked those movies, seeing as they had no real plot and banked on making the audience cry.
“Junior never talks about Minnesota," Dave said, and Axl was lost until the other man continued. "I asked, back then. It’s just weird when you grow up in the worst environment for you to be in, and you come out a huge thing later on. I’ve heard all the stories, but he’s never bothered to tell me his."
Axl cocked a brow at his friend and took another drag. "The way you talk, you sound upset. Did you want to know that damn bad?"
“I don’t know. It was just a wandering through, and I shouldn’t have chased it down. Hey, let’s go somewhere and get something to eat. I’m starved," Dave said, standing.
For the moment, Axl decided to let it go. He was not in a chasing mood.
Axl stared at the drops hammering against the smeared glass of the motel window with a feeling somewhere between bitter amusement and nostalgia. Anyone who lived in Indiana knew the place was known mostly for its corn and primarily for its bipolar weather. One minute, the sun would be peeking cheerily through puffy white clouds, and then the next, the ash gray sky would be choked with inky black clouds. It was just one of the many things he had to deal with now that he was back, but he was still undecided on whether or not crazy ass weather had been a push factor. At the worst of times, rapidly changing weather could be an inconvenience,, but it did not seem like a reason to avoid the state like a quarantine zone for smallpox.
Even now, years later, he wondered.
The sound of the bathroom door opening and closing made a sound, but his mind barely registered it. He only glanced up when a bright blur of a color suspended between crimson and gold slid into the fringe of his peripheral vision. It had been on a whim that he invited Dave to accompany him to Lafayette, not out of any exhaustion of logical thinking or randomly drawing a slip of paper out of a hat. Mustaine was simply nearby when the call came in, and the two of them had been getting along fairly well as of late. Bringing Izzy would have been too weird, and it would have revived the memories of Bill and Jeff, memories best left in the time they were created. He and Slash were on the outs again, and he did not expect Steven and Duff to understand how or have the sympathy to go to the funeral with him.
But Dave was a happy medium, someone who had no past in Indiana, but someone with whom Axl had a decent friendship. He had been quit on the ride over, except to bum a cigarette and to alert Axl when he needed to take a piss. It was odd, considering the two of them were known to be just as fiery as their hair, but they made a quiet pairing when they were alone. Axl had his own theory that Dave’s unexpected bouts of rage could be attributed to the bass player of Megadeth, the one everyone called Junior because he was a Dave, too. And, of course, there was no chance of running into any of the members of Metallica, who were far form a balm for Dave’s anger. It seemed the dreary atmosphere of the gunmetal Lafayette sky was just what the temperamental redhead needed to lull him into a queer sort of calm.
“This place is different," Dave observed as he leaned against the wall on the other side of the window. Hazel eyes leaning heavily toward green scanned the sky, the blanket of puffy ebony. "Kind of nice to feel like a normal guy again."
Axl nodded and extracted the cigarette from behind his ear, slipping it between his lips. Smoking was a nasty habit to keep up, and it would most likely end up damaging his voice, but he could not bring himself to stop after all these years. He lit the cigarette and inhaled, then slowly blew the smoke out in wisps of blue-gray, the pale color somehow complementing the colors outside. Dave smirked, sauntered back to his bed and flopped down on it with an audible sigh, but the flop was more akin to something like a graceful collapse. A man like Dave was nimble without trying, his body moving in a fluidity of steps and sways, and Axl had only known a few guys like that. Robbin Crosby, for instance, despite his height, and Jake E. Lee, whose body posture commonly indicated he wanted anyone who tried to approach him to fuck off.
And yet again, Dave was the medium between those particular two, not friendly like King and not cold like Jake.
“Indiana’s good for that kind of thing if you remember to avoid the Circle Center," Axl agreed, closing the blinds and moving across the room to his bed, as well.
He had not spoken to Dave about his conversation with his stepfather, but he did not think he needed to. Enough would be said at the funeral, when he showed up with yet another devil’s spawn, one who appeared a hell of a lot scarier. The people who came would know who he was, and the ones who remembered him would more than likely faint at the sight of what he had become. It would not be one of the climatic scenes in emotional dramas where everyone hugged and L. Stephen Bailey admitted he was wrong about everything. But that was fine with Axl, seeing as he had never liked those movies, seeing as they had no real plot and banked on making the audience cry.
“Junior never talks about Minnesota," Dave said, and Axl was lost until the other man continued. "I asked, back then. It’s just weird when you grow up in the worst environment for you to be in, and you come out a huge thing later on. I’ve heard all the stories, but he’s never bothered to tell me his."
Axl cocked a brow at his friend and took another drag. "The way you talk, you sound upset. Did you want to know that damn bad?"
“I don’t know. It was just a wandering through, and I shouldn’t have chased it down. Hey, let’s go somewhere and get something to eat. I’m starved," Dave said, standing.
For the moment, Axl decided to let it go. He was not in a chasing mood.
Sign up to rate and review this story