Categories > Celebrities > Guns n' Roses > Through The Eyes Of...
Izzy
I walk Curly Sue to the door of the storage unit; I really don’t want to let him walk home alone; not like this. For one thing he’s so drunk I’m not sure he’d make it and he’s so screwed up over what might be happening to Duff I have no idea what he’ll do if left alone for very long if Duff doesn’t show up at home soon. Fuck it. “Stand here for a second; I’ll come with you. We’ll check the apartment and then drive around and see if we can find him ok? Hopefully he’s fine; sitting in a bar talking business. Just wait, I’ll be back," I tell him and lean him against the wall.
“Ok, hurry up though, he says anxiously. I nod at him and walk over to Nikki.
“Hey, Slash is freaking out about where Duff is, I can’t send him home alone; he’s too fucked up. Stay here and bring Duff home if he comes back here ok? Please?” I ask him.
Nikki draws on his cigarette and exhales a cloud of smoke. "Sure, does the kid know what’s up with those guys? He caught on?”
“He figured it out; he might be drunk but he’s not stupid. He knows what it’s like, you never get something for nothing. Truck driver tried to fuck him on our way to Seattle, told him that he was "paying for our ride." I bashed the guy in the head. Kid was fine other than a lump on his head where the guy smashed his head into the wall so he’d stop fighting. We stole the guy’s truck as payback,” I tell Nikki remembering how I’d felt redeemed when I knocked that fucking truck driver out. It somehow made up for not being able to save Axl from a truck driver years ago. I feel like I just threw that redemption out the window when I let Duff leave with those pervert record company guys.
Why had I let that happen? Fuck the music business; Duff was my friend and I threw him to the wolves, not to mention that I’d majorly lusted after and kissed his boyfriend behind his back. Granted he had just totally betrayed the kid for the same reasons I’d just betrayed Duff but it didn’t matter; I shouldn’t have done either of those things. What the fuck is wrong with me? Sometimes I seriously just do things that even I don’t understand. Sometimes it just feels like all I do is kick myself in the nuts. I hate fucking being me.
“Alright, I’ll hang out for awhile; if he’s in the car when it comes back I’ll have the driver drop him off at your place,” Nikki tells me.
“Thanks man, I’ll see you later,” I answer.
“Yeah, thanks for the show earlier,” he grins. I just smirk even though I don't think anything's funny at the moment and walk to the door and pull Slash out into the street and to the car. C’mon kid,” let’s go find Blondie. He just looks at me with huge eyes before his hair falls back over them. We get in the car and run by the apartment; finding no one there but a disgruntled Fang who’s mad that we’re leaving again.
We drive around downtown LA, our usual neighborhood hangouts and the streets we walk at night but no Duff. I start driving around more towards the area that those two guys took Axl and I; half hoping we find Duff and half hoping we don’t. If we do find him who knows what kind of shape he’ll be in. Slash is leaning on his arm which is pressed up against the window so that he can see out in the darkness. I still almost run over Duff when we find him.
He was stumbling along the edge of sidewalk trying to rub blood out of his eye; it was streaming down his face from a cut just under his hairline. Slash yelled at me to stop the car and jumped out before we were completely at a standstill and how he didn’t trip as drunk as he was is beyond me. Duff fell against the hood of the car, one arm holding him up and the other one shielding his eyes from the light.
“Duff!” I heard Slash cry as I opened the door. He pulled Duff up off of where he was leaning on the front of the car and into his arms and Duff more or less collapsed against him. Slash had somehow instantly sobered up the moment he saw his boyfriend stumbling down the street injured and bloody; he kept Duff on his feet and frantically asked what happened. Duff was pretty disoriented and he just kept saying “I’m sorry baby; I’m so sorry,” over and over again.
“Duffy there’s nothing to be sorry for; no matter what happened. Duff kept muttering about being sorry and I heard Slash whisper "Shh, don’t talk baby, let me take care of you ok? I’ve got you.” Slash looks up at me and gives me something between a glare and the most wounded look I’ve ever seen; either way it’s not a look I want to get from him. Why don’t I just shoot myself up with an overdose and be done with it already? It couldn’t be any worse than the shit I keep doing to myself and my friends. But that self-pitying bullshit aggravates me even more. It doesn’t matter what it takes; I’m paying the hospital bill for Duff to go to the emergency room tonight; I don’t care if I have to suck every dick from here to Thailand.
I quickly step forward and help Slash hold Duff up and get him into the car. Slash gets into the backseat first while I hold Duff upright and then we both manage to pull him across the back seat so that he’s leaning against Slash. Slash pulls his shirt off and folds it up, using it to staunch the blood flow from Duff’s head wound. I watch as he gently wipes his face off before pressing the cloth to Duff’s head. He’s got a lot of other scratches on his face and on one of his arms and his shirt’s torn on the same side and he's oozing blood from those wounds too. What did he do jump out of the car? “Duff man, what happened?” I ask him. All I get is my name slurred back at me.
“Baby, what did they do to you? What did they hit you with?” Slash asks holding the folded up shirt with one hand and stroking Duff’s chest with the other.
“I’m sorry Slash,” or something like it is what he mumbles back. Slash looks at me with frantic eyes.
“It’s going to be ok buddy,” I tell Duff, “we’re going to the hospital right now ok? You need some stitches and you probably an x-ray of your head.”
“Nnooo,” Duff groans which must make his head hurt because he grips it with both hands.
“Yes,” I reply, “I’m going to pay for it, I’ll figure out how, don’t worry about it,” I say to him and move his feet so that he’s all the way in the car and I shut the door. I pull a cigarette out of my pocket and light it as I walk around to the driver's side and then start up the engine and throw the car into gear. I take off so fast that Slash’s arm flies up and smacks the back of my seat so that he and Duff don’t fall into the floor. I don’t say anything; I just drive like a bat out of hell to the nearest ER.
When I get there I tell Slash to stay put so that I can get somebody to come and wheel Duff into an examining room right away and not have to sit in the waiting room; this, unlike some things is an actual emergency. Some big male nurses or orderlies, somebody, comes with a wheelchair and they get Duff into it and take him in through a side door. They don’t want to let Slash or I go with him but Duff won’t let go of Slash’s hand so they agree to let him go. “Wait,” I say to them realizing that Slash is still shirtless, “Here, I’ll go home and get some other clothes for all of us and I’ll be back,” I tell him. Slash nods and takes the shirt and pulls Duff’s hand away from his own gently, just long enough to put the shirt on. I watch them go in through the doors of the ER in total agony; why the fuck did I do what Axl told me to? Because I was drunk and high off my ass and Axl’s bitch just like I always was; that’s why. I throw my cigarette down on the ground and stub it out with the toe of my boot. Some nurse coming outside looks at me disapprovingly. Yeah, fuck you too bitch, I’ve got way bigger problems than you tonight.
I walk Curly Sue to the door of the storage unit; I really don’t want to let him walk home alone; not like this. For one thing he’s so drunk I’m not sure he’d make it and he’s so screwed up over what might be happening to Duff I have no idea what he’ll do if left alone for very long if Duff doesn’t show up at home soon. Fuck it. “Stand here for a second; I’ll come with you. We’ll check the apartment and then drive around and see if we can find him ok? Hopefully he’s fine; sitting in a bar talking business. Just wait, I’ll be back," I tell him and lean him against the wall.
“Ok, hurry up though, he says anxiously. I nod at him and walk over to Nikki.
“Hey, Slash is freaking out about where Duff is, I can’t send him home alone; he’s too fucked up. Stay here and bring Duff home if he comes back here ok? Please?” I ask him.
Nikki draws on his cigarette and exhales a cloud of smoke. "Sure, does the kid know what’s up with those guys? He caught on?”
“He figured it out; he might be drunk but he’s not stupid. He knows what it’s like, you never get something for nothing. Truck driver tried to fuck him on our way to Seattle, told him that he was "paying for our ride." I bashed the guy in the head. Kid was fine other than a lump on his head where the guy smashed his head into the wall so he’d stop fighting. We stole the guy’s truck as payback,” I tell Nikki remembering how I’d felt redeemed when I knocked that fucking truck driver out. It somehow made up for not being able to save Axl from a truck driver years ago. I feel like I just threw that redemption out the window when I let Duff leave with those pervert record company guys.
Why had I let that happen? Fuck the music business; Duff was my friend and I threw him to the wolves, not to mention that I’d majorly lusted after and kissed his boyfriend behind his back. Granted he had just totally betrayed the kid for the same reasons I’d just betrayed Duff but it didn’t matter; I shouldn’t have done either of those things. What the fuck is wrong with me? Sometimes I seriously just do things that even I don’t understand. Sometimes it just feels like all I do is kick myself in the nuts. I hate fucking being me.
“Alright, I’ll hang out for awhile; if he’s in the car when it comes back I’ll have the driver drop him off at your place,” Nikki tells me.
“Thanks man, I’ll see you later,” I answer.
“Yeah, thanks for the show earlier,” he grins. I just smirk even though I don't think anything's funny at the moment and walk to the door and pull Slash out into the street and to the car. C’mon kid,” let’s go find Blondie. He just looks at me with huge eyes before his hair falls back over them. We get in the car and run by the apartment; finding no one there but a disgruntled Fang who’s mad that we’re leaving again.
We drive around downtown LA, our usual neighborhood hangouts and the streets we walk at night but no Duff. I start driving around more towards the area that those two guys took Axl and I; half hoping we find Duff and half hoping we don’t. If we do find him who knows what kind of shape he’ll be in. Slash is leaning on his arm which is pressed up against the window so that he can see out in the darkness. I still almost run over Duff when we find him.
He was stumbling along the edge of sidewalk trying to rub blood out of his eye; it was streaming down his face from a cut just under his hairline. Slash yelled at me to stop the car and jumped out before we were completely at a standstill and how he didn’t trip as drunk as he was is beyond me. Duff fell against the hood of the car, one arm holding him up and the other one shielding his eyes from the light.
“Duff!” I heard Slash cry as I opened the door. He pulled Duff up off of where he was leaning on the front of the car and into his arms and Duff more or less collapsed against him. Slash had somehow instantly sobered up the moment he saw his boyfriend stumbling down the street injured and bloody; he kept Duff on his feet and frantically asked what happened. Duff was pretty disoriented and he just kept saying “I’m sorry baby; I’m so sorry,” over and over again.
“Duffy there’s nothing to be sorry for; no matter what happened. Duff kept muttering about being sorry and I heard Slash whisper "Shh, don’t talk baby, let me take care of you ok? I’ve got you.” Slash looks up at me and gives me something between a glare and the most wounded look I’ve ever seen; either way it’s not a look I want to get from him. Why don’t I just shoot myself up with an overdose and be done with it already? It couldn’t be any worse than the shit I keep doing to myself and my friends. But that self-pitying bullshit aggravates me even more. It doesn’t matter what it takes; I’m paying the hospital bill for Duff to go to the emergency room tonight; I don’t care if I have to suck every dick from here to Thailand.
I quickly step forward and help Slash hold Duff up and get him into the car. Slash gets into the backseat first while I hold Duff upright and then we both manage to pull him across the back seat so that he’s leaning against Slash. Slash pulls his shirt off and folds it up, using it to staunch the blood flow from Duff’s head wound. I watch as he gently wipes his face off before pressing the cloth to Duff’s head. He’s got a lot of other scratches on his face and on one of his arms and his shirt’s torn on the same side and he's oozing blood from those wounds too. What did he do jump out of the car? “Duff man, what happened?” I ask him. All I get is my name slurred back at me.
“Baby, what did they do to you? What did they hit you with?” Slash asks holding the folded up shirt with one hand and stroking Duff’s chest with the other.
“I’m sorry Slash,” or something like it is what he mumbles back. Slash looks at me with frantic eyes.
“It’s going to be ok buddy,” I tell Duff, “we’re going to the hospital right now ok? You need some stitches and you probably an x-ray of your head.”
“Nnooo,” Duff groans which must make his head hurt because he grips it with both hands.
“Yes,” I reply, “I’m going to pay for it, I’ll figure out how, don’t worry about it,” I say to him and move his feet so that he’s all the way in the car and I shut the door. I pull a cigarette out of my pocket and light it as I walk around to the driver's side and then start up the engine and throw the car into gear. I take off so fast that Slash’s arm flies up and smacks the back of my seat so that he and Duff don’t fall into the floor. I don’t say anything; I just drive like a bat out of hell to the nearest ER.
When I get there I tell Slash to stay put so that I can get somebody to come and wheel Duff into an examining room right away and not have to sit in the waiting room; this, unlike some things is an actual emergency. Some big male nurses or orderlies, somebody, comes with a wheelchair and they get Duff into it and take him in through a side door. They don’t want to let Slash or I go with him but Duff won’t let go of Slash’s hand so they agree to let him go. “Wait,” I say to them realizing that Slash is still shirtless, “Here, I’ll go home and get some other clothes for all of us and I’ll be back,” I tell him. Slash nods and takes the shirt and pulls Duff’s hand away from his own gently, just long enough to put the shirt on. I watch them go in through the doors of the ER in total agony; why the fuck did I do what Axl told me to? Because I was drunk and high off my ass and Axl’s bitch just like I always was; that’s why. I throw my cigarette down on the ground and stub it out with the toe of my boot. Some nurse coming outside looks at me disapprovingly. Yeah, fuck you too bitch, I’ve got way bigger problems than you tonight.
Sign up to rate and review this story