FicWad

Duff

So I guess we've been walking backwards with our thumbs out for about an hour now. All of our shit we are having to tote really fucking blows. At least we keep trading off what we carry with one another. It makes it more fair. Thank God Izzy got rid of half of Stevie's drums. I'm not sure if anyone else has figured it out yet, but Izzy traded them off for some junk for this trip. I have no clue how long it's going to last though.

Let's be real clear on something. I KNOW JUNKIES! You wouldn't believe how much heroin there is in Seattle. I had list a lot of friends, even a girlfriend I loved very much. I know exactly how that shit works. For a while people seem fine. But then you start to see changes, subtil, slow, but they come. Eventually it becomes all about just not getting sick. That's where Izzy is. So I know that when that smack runs out Izzy's going to start to withdrawal. And sometimes that shit could get real bad.

But Izzy seems to handle himself really fucking well for a junkie. And his whole attitude screams that he just isn't one to fuss about shit. He probably won't say a word when his nose starts running and his hands shaking. He will probably just shrug it off as nothing. He's definitely not a guy who wants other people to worry about him. Admittedly, I liked the guy despite his addiction. And I've never said that about a junkie before.

It don't take rocket science to see that Axl is the voice of this fucking band. But don't be fooled. Izzy is its silent controller. Why? Because this motherfucker is just cool like that. Izzy had this flawless sense of reverse psychology. He could sway Axl anyway he wanted, and no one but him could. Izzy could start shit and you wouldn't even notice it because of that laid back front.

For instance, when we were neighbors and jammed Izzy came over this time after I had a party. I only had one bed and some dude was passed out in it, preventing me from doing the same. Izzy stands there and lights a cigarette looking at the guy laying there.

"Hey man, he's passed out in your bed."

I explain what went on at the party and about the guy passing out. Izzy nods and listens through a fog of smoke.

"That's your bed man, he can't just pass out in your bed. Are you really going to just let him pass out in your bed?"

And his tone never once changed but within seconds he had me furious at that damn guy. Mad enough for me to drag him out of my bed and throw him in an elevator. Izzy never uttered a word. Never helped. He just stood there smoking and doing his best to keep a demure smile off his face. I was entertaining him. But that's how Izzy was. One sneaky fucker who always had a calculated agenda you would never fucking figure out. That was why I knew who was really in fucking charge of this shit.



Izzy

Fuck man, no one is ever going to pick us up, we need some kind of a plan because I’m not walking down this fucking interstate all fucking night, hell no. The car dying was like the one thing we hadn’t planned for, never even thought about really but shit happens. Now we need to figure out what the hell we’re going to do. I need a fucking fix too, like an hour ago. I’m starting to get that acidic taste in my mouth from my stomach grumbling about no food and no smack and my nose is starting run and I’m irritated as fuck but so is everyone else after walking in the hot sun for a couple of hours carrying a bunch of shit.

Axl keeps trying to talk to me but I don’t want to talk, I want to be in a room with an air conditioner or a pool, or anything that’s going to cool me the fuck off. We’re all getting fucking sunburned too and that’s going to look really great on stage, a bunch of dudes with red, peeling skin. Well, maybe not Slash, fucker will probably just tan; although he did turn red in the car when I caught him scoping out my dick. That was single most entertaining moment of this trip so far, way better than the fucking car dying and walking down the highway in the sun.
We’re getting close to an exit ramp when I spot our salvation-one of those fucking huge trucker motels with about 15 one story buildings and about 150 rooms. “Look,” I say pointing towards it.

“Dude, we don’t have enough money to spend money on a hotel room!” Steven protests.

Axl gives him a funny look and says “Who the fuck said anything about spending money?” and hops over the guardrail. I follow him and the others all look at each other for a second and the curly haired kid shrugs and jumps over the rail after me with the other two not far behind. A lot of the buildings are completely empty so we pick one that can’t be seen from the road but close enough to the occupied rooms so that it doesn’t look weird to have the lights and the air conditioner running and I show the rest of them how to jimmy open a window lock. Slash watches and picks it up pretty quick and pops the lock on the window in the room next to mine and the one after that. We quickly split up in pairs with Axl and I in one room, Slash and Duff who are already eyeing each other like hungry wolves climbing into the window beside us and Steven and Del, our self-appointed roadie taking the third room.

The room is stuffy and warm when I climb in and I quickly move to turn a couple of lights on and the a/c. I turn it down to 60 and lean over it after the cold air starts blasting out of the vent, blowing my dripping hair back out of my face a little. “C’mere,” I say to Axl who’s bringing our bags out of the bathroom where we tossed them on the way in the window. He walks over and I pull him front of me and circle my arm around his waist. He closes his eyes as the cold air blows into his face and I move his sweaty hair off of the back of his neck and place a kiss there. I can taste the salt on his skin and I smile into his shoulder. “Feels good doesn’t it?” I ask.

“Feels fucking amazing,” he says back.
We stand that way for a minute or so breathing in the cool air and enjoying the relief it brings and the closeness of each other without having anyone else around. “You can have the first shower,” I tell him, “it’s too fucking hot to get in there together.” It is too hot to share a shower but I don’t want him seeing me fix so I need him out of the room for a few minutes. He turns around and kisses me on the cheek as his way of thanking me and heads into the bathroom stripping off his clothes as he goes making sure I get a glimpse of his ass. I just smirk and roll my eyes at him and he gives me a pouty look before he shuts the door. Thank God because I'm starting to really need this hit.

I have a couple of darts already loaded in my bag and I pull one out and strip down to my shorts. I pull my belt out of my pants and wrap it around my arm and pull it tight with my teeth. My mouth is starting to water in anticipation of the high that’s going to come from the brown liquid in the syringe. I slide the tiny needle into my vein and push the plunger down; releasing the belt from my teeth and loosening it. A few seconds later a warmth rushes over me starting in my head and moving down my body that makes me groan in pleasure. I sink back onto the bed and just lay there, enjoying the buzz while I wait for Axl to come out of the bathroom.
Of course someone comes and pounds on the door and I look through the peephole to see Duff standing there with his hands in his pockets. I unlock the door and open it and stand back letting him into the room. You want anything from McDonald’s man? There’s one across the street, I’m going over to get something for me and Slash.”

“Yeah sure, get us a couple of cheeseburgers each will you?” I rummage through my pants which are laying on the floor and come up with a few dollars that I hand to Duff. He takes the money and says he’ll be back and walks down to Steven’s room to see if he and Del want anything. The heat outside is still suffocating and I gladly shut the door; happy that I don’t have any reason to go back out in it tonight. This fucking room in a cheap motel is nicer than the rat-hole Axl and I share so I plan to enjoy it in my smack induced haze.