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New Years Sucks

by MaryJaneSixx 0 reviews

Steven's new years

Category: Guns n' Roses - Rating: R - Genres: Romance - Warnings: [V] [X] [R] - Published: 2017-07-15 - 2017 words


So my new years was interesting. I had dialed up an escort to party with me. It never occurred to me that I was living with Adrianna. She was at work at the Cathouse. With it being new year's Eve the club would be packed with single guys willing to pay good money to have a beautiful naked chick talk to him like he's special. It was a great night to make money. So I figured Adrianna would stay till two am when the joint closed. Yep, you guessed it, she showed up around ten.

Granted she walked in on me getting head from some dial up hooker. Needless to say, she was fairly pissed. She jerked the chick up by her hair and commenced to beat the shit out of her. I didn't try to break them up. You just don't get in the middle of a cat fight. Besides I was using the distraction to get dressed. I also grab my stash. I try to quietly sneak out. Yeah, didn't happen.

Adrianna turned her attention to me. She smacked the shit out of me. She was screaming and yelling and just kept hitting me. I guess I deserved it, but my gut instincts kiced in I grabbed her by both arms and shoved her off me. She fell and I got the fuck out of there before she could get up and come after me. This was not how I wanted to spend my new years. I'll listen to her bitching tomorrow.

I went down to a pay phone and called up Slash and Duff. They didn't answer and all I got was their answering machine. They probably just don't want to be disturbed. This is a holiday for couples. So then I tried Izzy and Axl. Izzy answered but said he and Axl were staying in tonight and wanted to be alone. I didn't blame him though. Who wants a third wheel ike me around tonight? So I decided to go to the Cathouse since Adrianna isn't there.

I get really loaded and drunk and start trying to touch the girls.There is a no touching rule, but it didn't apply in the back room with personal dances. I was getting really turned on by the girl on my lap. She was calling me baby and saying she wanted me. So I pulled out my dick. About two seconds later a huge bouncer is grabbing me up and shoving me through the club while I try to get my dick back in my pants. He pushes me hard out the doors. I trip and face plant on the sidewalk. People start to laugh at me. I hear someone say, "Hey ain't that Steven Adler?"

I get so goddamn humiliated! Since we got home from touring being me had had it's advantages. But not tonight. My friends are all busy with their better half. They have no time for me. I pissed off my girlfriend. I didn't even get off from the hooker. I have no clue where to go. I have no one to hang out with. Loneliness sweeps through me. But I should be used to it by now. I'm usually the forgotten one that never fits in. The third wheel. The outcast. The unimportant. The forgotten.

So I just walk with my hands shoved in my pockets and my head hung low. Fuck this. This is no way to spend New year's Eve. So I find a dark alley with a dumpster in it. I go crouch on the side of the dumpster and pull out my works. I can't help but smell the dumpster. It smelled like stale beer, rotting food, and old soda syrups.. I'm pretty sure I can smell some piss too. But in a minute I won't give a fuck anymore.

So I shoot up by the faint light of a distant street light. How fucking glamorous, huh? I'm Steven Adler of Guns N Roses and I'm shooting up in an alley like some homeless fucking junkie. And instead of heroin bliss I feel emptiness. I feel loneliness. I feel unimportant and forgotten. I felt like I was part of something before we came back home. Now I'm just solo and not part of a damn thing.

I let my back hit the brick wall behind me. I extend my legs out and sit. I probably don't want to know what I'm sitting in. I put away my works and just think about how pathetic this night seems. I'd say it's a pretty shitty way to ring in a new year, sitting next to some filthy dumpster in an alley. Ah the glorious life of a rock star. This is not at all how I thought fame would be. I thought it would be a nonstop party. But I feel like I didn't get invited to the party. This really fucking sucks.

I guess I lose myself in a heroin induced daydream. Or maybe I just nod the fuck out. Either way I get a quick reality check when my eyelid is pried open and a bright ass fucking flashlight is shined into it. Goddamn, somebody kill the fucking light. But I notice nobody is. Theres hands patting me down. I feel them pull my dope out of my pocket. It's then that I notice the fucking badges. Shit! It's the fucking cops!

"Looks like another junkie," says one of the cops.

"Tell us who sold you the drugs and we'll let you go," the one with the flashlight in my goddamn eyes says.

"I'm not saying shit," I mumble, "Call my lawyers! Call my record company, they'll send somebody."

I hear the flashlight jackass laugh. "It's a busy night, being new year's Eve and all. I'd say it's probably three to five days before you're even booked."

"Yeah, no judges coming in tonight to do arainments," the other dickhead cop says.

They haul me up on my feet and one cuffs me. The other sticks my dope in his uniform pocket. Holy shit, this cop just jacked me! I feel the other pull out my wallet.

"This is a lot of cash for a junkie to be carrying around. Where'd you get this?"

"Dude, I'm in a band."

"This isn't local Sunset Strip kind of cash kid. Did you rob this?"

"No. It's mine. Like I said, I'm a rock star."

"Well we'll just see if you can sing your way out of a jail house gang bang tonight."

Then they shove me in the back of their squad car. I listen to them radioing dispatch. They don't say they picked me up for possession. They say I'm some suspect in a fucking robbery. They say the saw me fleeing the scene. They say I stashed the cash before they apprehended me. Those lying fucking douche bags!! They robbed me! Now I'm going down for some shit I didn't even do and they get off of a real crime?! What the fuck?!

So at the stroke of midnight while my friends are probably fucking and drinking, I'm sitting in a freezing ass cold holding tank. Not how I saw my new years going down. I should have just stayed home and dealt with Adrianna. I'd be sleeping on the couch but at least I wouldn't be crammed on a bench between a transvestite and some guy big enough to be a wrestler. I'm sitting so close to the tranny that it probably thinks I'm flirting. So that there's no confusion, I'm not flirting with a tranny. It's just the tranny seems less intimidating than the fucking wrestler. Wouldn't you sit closer to the fucking transvestite too? I'm pretty sure the transvestite thought we were going steady.

So there you have it. This is my big sloppy kiss to 1988. It's off to a pretty shitty start. I hope this isn't a reflection of how the rest of the year will be. I fucking wish we were still out on the road. I could ignore Nikki's evil wrath much more easily than I can stand a holiday in a jail cell. Fuck I'm looking at armed robbery when I have no gun and didn't rob anyone. But they'll believe the cops over me. The same cops that are probably shooting up my shit in the very alley they found me in. I'm sure the cash they got from me will liven up their new years nicely. I had a couple Grand on me. I could have made bail with that shit. The LAPD is so fucking crooked.

I'm sick as shit. Luckily they move me to a detox cell and I'm not having to share it. I'm thankful because I'm sweating and puking and shitting all over the place. I've never had to go so long without a hit before. I'm afraid I'll die before I can get out of here. I finally got my one fucking call after four days in the holding tank. I got ahold of Doug. I told him what really happened and about the charges against me being bogus. He didn't seem worried. About two hours later they're telling me it's time to go. So I practically Sprint out of the place. I had to get some smack pronto.

I leave the jail in a limo. Doug can tell I'm sick, he's not retarded, he knows why. I ask him to drop me off at Axl and Izzys place. I knew Izzy had what I needed to get well. Right now Nothing else matters to me. Doug is sitting across from me with some suit and tie kind of lawyer just shaking his fucking head at me. The lawyer is trying to go over the details for my court date and it's taking everything I have to not blow chunks all over this fucking limo.

When we get to Axl and Izzys place Doug and the driver have to carry me up to their door. Erin answers the door holding Treader back by his collar. She takes one look at me and asks if I'm ok.

"Is...Is Izzy home?" I manage to ask.

That's when Axl shows up in the door. He looks at me and gets pretty fucking pissed off. Then Izzy appears pulling Treader out of the way.

"Can you walk Stevie?" Izzy asks.

I nod and shuffle in. Axl goes outside and talks to Doug.

Izzy doesn't ask me any questions. He knows all too well that I'm dopesick. He motions to the couch and let's go of Treader. Naturally his dogs nose buries in my nuts.

"Treader no!" Erin commands and snaps her fingers. Treader lays at my feet looking like he's in trouble. But he's not the one in trouble, I am.

Izzy returns with a syringe and a belt. He sits next to me and I hold my right arm out to him. He loops the belt around my bicep and slaps my arm to get a vein to surface. "How'd you manage to get in this shape Stevie?" He softly says and injects me.

Then I hear Axl. "The son of a bitch has been in jail for four days! The idiot shot up in an alley and passed out. Fucking cops woke him up and hauled his ass in!" Axl starts pacing erratically. It's not hard to see how pissed he is. "This is so fucking great for our image Steven. Thank you. Really."

"Chill out Fireball. I doubt he intended to get arrested," Izzy tries calming him down.

Axl sweeps his hand across the top of his head and looks at me. "You feeling better now?"

"Yeah, I think so," I nod.

"Good! Get the fuck out of my sight!" Axl points to the door.

Izzy just looks up at him like he's inhuman. "Sugar, will you please drive Stevie home?" Izzy asks Erin.

"Yeah, of course," she says grabbing the keys to her car. We leave. As the door shuts I hear Axl ranting. Damn. I'm glad I'm not Izzy right now.
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