A Shoulder To Cry On.

Chapter One

"What do you guys plan on doing when we get home?" Slash asked his fellow bandmates as they drove back to L.A from Vegas. "Sleep. I'm going to sleep," Izzy said. "For seven months?" Steven asked raising his eyebrow. Izzy nodded. "Seems reasonable," Duff said. "I'm just going to play guitar and sleep," Slash said. "Lazy asses," Axl said. "Well, what are you going to do?" Slash asked. "I'm going to volunteer at this place that helps teens and young adults deal with depression and past traumas," Axl said. "You don't have a degree in physiology!" Duff said. "I just write things down and escort them to the therapists," Axl said. "Sounds fun," Steven said sarcastically. "Shut up, popcorn. I think it's great!" Izzy said a rare smile playing on his face. 

Izzy and Slash were the closest to Axl in the band and they were the only ones who knew about Axl's past. Of course, Izzy knew. He was Axl's friend since high school. And Slash found out when Axl refused to play in Lafayette, Indiana in fear he'd see his stepfather again. Izzy was glad Axl wanted to help more people who went through similar stuff as he did. 

When they passed the Welcome To Los Angelas sign, they all stared out the window like eager kids who are going to Disney Land. They were all relieved to get back home. As fun as tours were, they were happy to get back home, kick up their feet, and relax. 

Axl walked into his house and dropped his bags on the ground. His dog, Blue the French Bulldog, ran to greet him barking and jumping. Axl had hired a dog sitter to walk and care for Blue while he was gone. "Hey, Blue," Axl said scratching his dog behind the ears. Blue wagged his tail. Axl sighed and replaced the dog's water and gave him food and then went to his room to sleep. 

. . . . . . . . . . .

The next morning when Axl woke up he took Blue for a walk before he went to his new "job". He walked in and went over to the receptionist who looked at him with a tired expression. "We don't do therapy at this hour if you are suicidal we can make an exception," she said with a monotone voice. "I'm uh here to volunteer. They told me to come early so I don't cause chaos," Axl said. The receptionist grabbing a microphone that rang throughout the building. "Dr. Ashter!" she called. 

A happy-looking older man walked into the room. "Hey, you must be Axl!" he said. "How'd you know?" Axl asked sarcastically. "Lucky guess," the doctor joked. "My name is Dr. Ashter. People will start coming in, in a few minutes. So what you're to do is take them to the room on the left that reads 302, and ask them about themselves and their conditions. Right it down on this clipboard that has questions," Dr. Ashter asked. "So that's it?" Axl asked. "Easy right, it's hard work but it's not hard work," Dr. Ashter said. Axl tilted his head in confusion. "You'll understand shortly," Dr. Ashter said. 

Axl liked Dr. Ashter. He was a funny old man that brought out dad vibes and looked like he was ready to tell a dad joke and teach his son how to ride a bike. Axl was glad he wasn't helping someone that acted as boring as the receptionist. Axl found out her name was Dr. Betty. With Dr. Ashter around the job can't get that bad. Especially since Dr. Ashter seemed very patient. Which was good, because Axl knew he'd have slip-ups. 

This won't be hard. I'll be fine.