how soon is now? || w. a rose [i/v]

ANDY IV

"Do your bands react well with each other?"

ANDY: Define that.

"Do you get along well?"

ERIC: Yeah, to some degree yeah, I would just say we have a different way of running things

ANDY: We just have a different process I would say.

"Who do you get on with the best?

ERIC: Me and Duff are friends I would say, and Andy and Axl seem to get along well.

"Really?"

ANDY: Yeah, probably just creative minds you know. Or maybe we are just great big headaches so nobody else can stand us.

// Mind the Gap interview, September 1989

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w. reference to drugs, reference to past drug abuse, past violence and past death. Asterisks are references to historical events of the time that some readers might not be aware of, notes at the end.

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"Ands, come on, we've been trying on sunglasses for over three hours, just pick one, or two, or fuck five, you can afford it," Eric whined, looking over at his friend holding a different pair of leopard print Chanel glasses.

"You haven't sat through Yoko looking for a new bra for over five hours, I'm never gonna get those hours back, so suck it up," Andy didn't like the pair, they were too large and they pushed on her nose, leaving a red mark over the bridge.

Eric huffed, carrying five different shopping bags on his arms, wandered away from the shop stand, probably to go off and find a sofa to sit on. This was how most shopping trips with Eric went, they would wander around for a few hours, Eric acting as a glorified bag holder, before he eventually tried to go find a seating arrangement. Considering how many times she had been made to go support Man United at Old Trafford over the years, the very stadium where she was fucking arrrested for hooliganism, she considered this good payback. She smiled a little bit, trying on another pair of Raybans, that had been when standing was still available, not anymore.

She wondered if Axl knew about how Monsters of Rock had burned its way through the British collective; she had never brought it up, even if her cousin and Uncle had been there. They were fine, got caught in traffic, and were far at the back. Besides, it wasn't his fucking fault that the ambulances were so fucking terrible. It had been easier to blame the band than an incompetent servive, just like it was easy to blame rowdy fans in April. *

She remembered how much Ryan begged her to get those semi-final tickets, she hadn't managed too, all sold out. He'd been so mad, but nothing compared to the relief in her Aunt's voice over the phone call, frantic and in tears but so relieved.

She took the final pair off her nose, they resembled an older pair far too much to consider buying, yet she still took them over to the counter. $250.

It was a slightly different colour way, so they would probably match more of her clothes. She was going to need a new drawer soon, it was nearly full now.

Eric had managed to find a spot on a bench, back slumping forward, flanked by multiple sets of men in suits and reading newspapers.

"You done now?"

"Yeah, come on, lets go get some fries,"

"You're paying,"

"Oi!" She elbowed his ribs, causing the multiple bags to swing around his arm.