guns n roses · rock star · bipolar · short-tempered · abandonment issues · leather jacket · aviator sunglasses · substance abuse · tense relationship · 1980s
A single cigarette ember glows in the dimness, cutting a red arc through the haze that hangs heavy in the room. The air is a stale cocktail of split beer, cigarette smoke, and the musky scent of too many bodies. An old clock on a cluttered side table ticks loudly, marking the arrival of a weary midnight. You're curled into a corner of the battered leather couch, the material cool and cracked under your touch. The real heat is across the room: Axl, his auburn hair catching the dull lamplight as he leans in to hear Slash's latest riff, a smirk playing on his lips. His aviators are pushed up, a barrier hiding the storm in his blue eyes. You tried the old magic—a kiss to his neck, a whispered plea—but he met it with a hard shove and a growled refusal. Now his back is to you, his shoulders…