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


by MaryJaneSixx 0 reviews

More on Izzy and Axl's past

Category: Guns n' Roses - Rating: R - Genres: Romance - Warnings: [V] [X] [R] - Published: 2017-06-28 - 1328 words


So here I am, fucking Erin, making up for Izzy chasing her off. Even had to go through with a nice public dinner and shit. I so do not want to be here right now. I know Izzy's telling me he understands, but believe me it still fucking stings. I catch a whiff of Erin's perfume. Apparently Izzy didn't like it. I know why, he's more into the way I fucking smell. And I'd prefer smelling him covered in puke and shit right now than having my sense of smell being raped by her perfume. If I don't stop thinking about it I'm going to lose my fucking hard on.

So it's off to day dream land. Not easy for me to do, that was always Izzy's specialty. I remember always catching that spaced off daydream look in his eyes back in school. I always wondered what he thought about. He was a pretty quiet kid, never caused any shit. But he was a slacker, a stoner, and had long hair. Izzy seemed cool. And as I got to know him I saw just how cool he really was. It was just everything about him, the way he dressed, the way he talked, the way he walked, the music he liked, he had a car, sold weed, he was just fucking cool.

We were friends a while before anything ever went down with us. But there was always this weird sort of sexul tension. Back then I couldn't see that, I just thought it was...I don't even know. I didn't think I was gay, or bi, however you wanna look at it. But when I got that first kiss, I knew. Somehow I always felt connected to Izzy. It was pure chemistry from day one.

I drift further back in my mind. Corn fields in the late summer. The sound of their leaves brushing together as the wind blows through them. They're over my head, their dead brown tassles lie matting together, waiting on their harvest. Perfectly spaced rows. Perfectly spaced stalks. It was easy to turn them into a fucking labyrinth without even trying. It was a typical night for back then. 1:30 in the morning on a Sunday after a good Saturday night beating and hearing my sister getting fucked through the walls. I intercede, I get knocked around, I run. I run to Izzy. I tap on his window. This is such a regular occurrence that I m not even sure if Izzy doesn't sleep walk when he raises the window. I crawl in.

Izzy does a quick mental inventory of my skin for fresh bruises. Tonight's is just at the base of my jaw. A nice pretty thumbprint. "Soooo, what was it this time? You look at a chick on TV a little too closely again? Fuck up at choir practice? " Izzy yawns and pulls a cigarette out of his jacket lying on the floor.

I sigh, " was Amy again," I say softly.

I can see Izzy's eyes looking over at me as he lights his cigarette. "Oh," he nods and extends the cigarette out to me.

"Thanks," I say and gladly take it, "Got anything stronger?" I ask.

"Yeah, sure," his drowsy voice says as he rubs his eyes, "just let me get dressed."

So I climb back out the window and wait on Izzy to dress and dig through all his hiding places. I stare at the cornfield across the street. I knew that was our destination. It was where we always got high at Izzy's. He finally crawls outside to where I stand. Without anything needing to be said we head for the corn. Izzy's pave is slow and steady as he rolls a joint while we walk. He's really good at it. He licks, sticks, flips it to his lips and Pat's himself down for a lighter. We go further into the field, probably an acre into it. Finally Izzy just stops. Cups one hand around the end of the joint and strikes a lighter to it with his other. He inhales deeply and hands it to me. He quickly just collapses down on the ground Indian style.

He looks up at me. "Sit," he shrugs.

I sigh and drop down exhaling as I do. I sit next to izzy with my knees drawn into my chest. I stare at the joint in my fingers as it's embers spark up from the wind. I can feel Izzy looking at me from the corner my eyes. He very slowly raises his hand. He knows fast movements make me jumpy. His fingers lightly tuck my hair behind my ear. The back of his fingers caress my bruise. "Billy, you can't stay around here forever for this shit."

"What am I supposed to do Izzy? Run away, live in this cornfield and have you bring me scraps every night?" I Huff. "I'm only 16."

"But you won't always be," his soft calm voice says taking the joint from me. "One day we'll be old enough to get the hell of Lafayette." He drags deeply from the joint and blows out smoke rings as he lays back. He tugs at my shirt for me to lay with him. I lay next to him with my head on his shoulder. "One day I'm gonna take you away from all this Billy."

Of course I don't really believe it, but it's a comforting thought. "And where will you take me?" I ask taking the joint again and placing it to my lips. Izzy's fingers lightly stroke my back as his eyes peer up at the stars in wonder.

"California," he finally says.

"And what will we do in California?" I smile.

He turns to look at me. "Be what we will never be able to be here."

Izzy had known what he planned to do in life since he was a little kid. Izzy always knew he wanted to make music. For a long time I just thought it was a pipe dream. But for Izzy it was so real. He was so determined. When he left for California I didn't go. I was in jail. And when I got out there was a stack of letters from him. He told me everything, how beautiful it was, how everything was so different. He told me about playing in bands. He begged me to come. I went out and visit a couple times, but it just seemed like I wasn't cut out for the life Izzy was. But I got into some deep shit in Indiana. I had one choice. Run. And where did I always run? Straight to Izzy.

And when I decided to jump on board of Izzy's dream I started finally finding myself and putting Indiana behind me. Izzy and I were so fucking happy. But living in LA was hard as shit when you're trying to be in a band and pay bills. I worked odd jobs. Izzy did at first, but he soon figured out he was just better at selling drugs. But no matter how hard it got, Izzy found a way to get by. Izzy was a survivalist. Izzy knew exactly what he wanted and he went for it. We went for it. And you know what, all bullshit aside, Izzy did exactly what he said he was gonna do. He took me away from Indiana and gave me a different life.

I just wish he could see the way he was now destroying his dream. It wasn't just his dream to ruin anymore. Now four other people depended on him. I had to fucking find a way to get through to him. I had to get him over the self made obsticales he kept blocking us all with. Now it was my turn to give Izzy a better life. I look down at Erin. Jesus what a fucked up place to start trying to do that from.
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