Categories > Celebrities > Guns n' Roses > Through The Eyes Of...


by MaryJaneSixx 0 reviews

Axl self destructs

Category: Guns n' Roses - Rating: R - Genres: Romance - Warnings: [V] [X] [R] - Published: 2017-06-25 - 1243 words


Outside in the hallway I could hear Izzy and Erin screaming at one another. Their words were so cold. I cover my ears and pace my floor trying to ignore them. I couldn’t believe them. However, Izzy has never lied to me about sleep with one of my girlfriends. He’s always more than happy to tell me. Even though Erin adamantly denies it, I know she wants him. Her pussy was too wet from him hovering over her in that elevator. And I saw the wat Izzy’s eyes prowled her. He’s thought about it. I know Izzy. It was his fool proof way of getting rid of my girlfriends.

Izzy can be very charming and persuasive. Plus he is patient and calculated every angle. Izzy could talk a nun out of her habit. He could turn from an average guy to Don Juan Demarco in about 15 seconds. Girls never turned Izzy down. Half of Hollywood knew he was a great lay. And he was, I ought to know, right? Erin was no match for him.

I know Izzy loves me, but the way he was looking at Erin…I can’t even think about it right now. I was so fucking pissed at both of them. I hated the way they competed for my attention. Maybe I was wrong to ask Erin to be my official girlfriend, and not just for the sake of the press. It didn’t change what I felt for Izzy. I don’t think anything could.

Izzy was all I knew. When we were in Indiana it was the two of us against the world. I had experience everything with Izzy. The first times getting drunk and high were with him. My first kiss had been from his lips. My first hand job was delivered by Izzy’s hand. My first blowjob, both giving and receiving had come from him. And while his dick may not have been the first to penetrate me, it was the first I gave consent to. And I was the first to ever enter Izzy. And it stayed like this for ten years. We never fucked other guys, not until we got to Hollywood. Record executives aside, we remained faithful. Whores never counted because we depended on them. But somewhere shit just went sour. He fucked Tommy. I fucked Slash. Things had changed. We weren’t the same people anymore. I wanted what we had back.

I gulp from a whiskey bottle and hurl it into a mirror that is showing my reflection. It shatters and I can no longer see myself. I pace the floor and ponder. Maybe Izzy was right, maybe Erin was using me just the same as I was using her. Her modeling career wasn’t all that, but here I am, an up and coming rock star. I would boost here career. That fucking cunt. Izzy was right.

I growl and flip over a table. I was starting to allow myself to feel something for that bitch. She was so good to me, so nurturing and motherly. Completely opposite from my own mother who never protected me or took care of me. I thought Erin was sincere. I should have known. It’s not me she wants, it’s Izzy. It has to be. She never gets that wet from talking to me. The chicks I dated always ended up fucking Izzy. Izzy has this charm no chick can refuse…nor myself. Why the fuck would Erin be any different?

Why can’t I let him go? Why can’t I get him out of my blood? Why did I feel like I couldn’t live without him? Why can’t I move on from this toxic relationship with him? Maybe he is lying. He’s been lying to me about a lot since we got back from Seattle. He changed after Seattle. He and I got more distant and started doing more drugs. Who the fuck do I believe? I can’t take this reeling in my mind. And I don’t know what to do.

I feel rage boiling inside of me; smash my fist into the wall and the sheet rock crumbles. But this does nothing to soothe my rage. I grab a lamp and smash it over the night stand. I flip my mattresses. I grab the TV and hurl it into the wall. I knock over the room service cart. I rip paintings from the walls and smash them on the floor with my boot heels. I sink to the floor panting and clenching my head. Still I feel no better.

I look around at my destruction. In the midst of it all lying on the floor I see a small piece of folded up wax paper. I immediately know what it is. Izzy had dropped a fold of smack in his tussle with me. I reach over and pick it up, examining it between my fingers. I carefully open it. It’s brown. Persian. I fold it back up carefully and search for the phone in my destroyed room. I pray it still works. I manage to locate it and to my surprise it has a dial tone.

I call the front desk. “This is Axl Rose in room 1134, could you please send up some tin foil?”

“Yes Sir Mr. Rose, right away,” they answer.

My eyes start to scan the room. I jerk open a nightstand drawer and find a pen. Perfect. I rip out its guts and am left with just a tube. A few moments later room service is knocking at my door. I open the door just a crack and take the roll of foil. I cordially thank the guy and tip him 20 bucks. I shut the door and head to the bathroom.

On the counter I carefully open up the wax paper fold. I stare at it a long time. I had been clean for so long. I hesitate but I tear off a piece of foil. I carefully dump a small amount of smack onto it. This was how Izzy and I first started out on this shit. It was Desi that introduced us to needles. I can’t go around asking for needles because I don’t want anyone knowing what I’m doing. I grab a lighter. I stick the hollow pen in my mouth. I raise the foil and strike the lighter. As soon as the smoke starts to billow from it I suck it up with the pen until my lungs are full. I hold it in as long as I can then exhale.

A warm familiar comfort comes over me. Hello old friend, it’s been a while. I feel my body relaxing. I strike the lighter again and let the heroin melt and roll over the foil as I suck it in. I repeat this until I can no longer stand. So I simply move to the floor. I keep putting the smack on the foil and chasing that imaginary dragon. Soon there is not much left. My arms are too heavy to hold up the foil and lighter. They rest in my lap as my head starts to drop. I just stay on the bathroom floor leaning against the tub. At least I feel better. No thoughts cross my mind. Nothing matters. I have become comfortably numb. I never want to leave this place.
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