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

AXL VI [E]

"How would you describe Andy?"

"God, how wouldn't I describe her...she's so...God she's so everything,"

"Not negatively I hope,"

"No, never ever that, well, maybe when she tells me to pick up my shit of the floor,"

"What'd be the one word you would use to describe her?"

"Kindness. I know you expect me to say something like hot or sexy or even funny or confident, but she's so kind, even if nobody sees it"

// Interview with Axl Rose, MTV, never aired, 1990

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w. nsfw, reference to injury

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"VMA'S CHAOS: VINCE NEIL. LEAD SINGER OF MOTLEY CRUE, PUNCHES LEVI'S MODEL ANDY BERNOW"

"MOTLEY CRUE'S VINCE NEIL BREAKS MIND THE GAP SINGER ANDY BERNOW'S NOSE"

"CAN VINCE NEIL BE EVEN MORE SEXIST? SINGER NEIL HITS FEMALE SINGER ANDY BERNOW"

"VINCE NEIL ACTUALLY HIT IZZY STRADLIN BEFORE PUNCHING ANDY BERNOW. VMA'S DISASTER CONTINUES TO UNFOLD"

"WAS VINCE NEIL AIMING FOR AXL ROSE? AND WHY WAS THE GUNS SINGER WITH BERNOW?"

"AXL AND ANDY. ARE THE TWO GEFFEN SINGERS DATING? HERE ARE ALL THE DETAILS"

Axl turned off the TV, taking the two annoying MTV news anchors with it, the screen turning black. Everything had already turned into a complete and utter shitshow, he had pulled his phone from the wall the minute it started ringing at nine.

He couldn't be bothered to even find out who was ringing, probably Niven, or maybe Stevens and only God knew how many different news outlets. He had never given out his number, yet it had still managed to circle around different agencies. Fucking rats, the lot of them, every time they managed to sniff one out another one immediately took its place.

Honestly, Geffen should be thankful that he hadn't immediately started beating the shit out of Neil, the blonde fucker, he'd been immediately pushed back by security, even if they had deciphered he was the lesser threat to the the singer.

Axl hadn't realized just how tall Eric was until last night, not Duff's height but only a few inches less, but Duff was certainly not as broad. The drummer had shouted and spit like a ferocious beast clawing away from its captors and attempting to reach its target. The sneer in his voice as his voice dropped into a heavy accent completely engulfed Duff's new funny drinking partner, who less than two hours before had been playing drunk darts, tripping over his own feet.

"I'll bottle you pretty boy,"

Axl had no doubt that had one been available, it would have been Neil that needed the doctor, and probably a lot more. Eric hadn't backed down, his sweaty hair dripping across his forehead, the rings on his hands so easily clenching together to form brass knuckles. He'd obviously fought before, his feet rooting down on the concrete and the dip of his head, and from confidence alone, Axl concluded he had won them.

Now, Axl had been in fights before, hell even Bill Bailey had easily fought them in school corridors, but even he wasn't egotistical enough to think he had "won" them, no matter what Izzy felt the need to say. He had just wildly thrown a punch, not bothering to knock his head down and have a correct stance and posture, he didn't throw punches to win, he threw to hurt someone, to let them feel the boiling pain running through his blood.