Message of Obsession (Duff McKagan)

15: Just Be Quiet

When I woke up two days later, the world around me was rattling. My eyes squinted open, nothing but darkness. "D-Duff? Slash?" I raised my head, the motion halted by a ceiling. "Fuck," I hissed, holding my head.

"NO! If I do 'It's So Easy' and 'Welcome to the Jungle' first in the set, I'm not gonna be able to fucking sing the rest of it!"

I knew that voice anywhere. Axl.

Now, I would never, in a million years, tell anyone, especially one of my boyfriend's bandmates, that I hate them, but Axl is a special exception. I loathe the guy. And I really tried to hide it for Duff's sake, but it just spilled out sometimes. I had promised Duff that I would try to be nice to him on tour.

Sometimes, promises need to be broken.

"Axl, come on man, you've done it before-" Stephen started before the ferocious voice cut him off in true frontman fashion.

"I won't fuckin' do it, man!"

I poked my head out of the bunk, squinting through the artificial light. It was still dark out, since our flight into Canada had us landing at midnight. I had hardly any recollection of getting on the bus other than the drive from the airport to the bus, but I figured it must have been a while ago because the boys were mostly unpacked. "Axl, please."

He whipped his head around, that damn bandana wrapped around his head. I hope that shittin' thing wraps around his neck. His mouth. Anything to make him be quiet. "Shit, you're up."

"Yeah. Shut up, please?"

He glared at me as I ripped the curtain back, letting my head hit the pillow heavily. Axl instead didn't shut up but proceeded to whine more. I groaned, pulling the pillow up around my ears. After a moment, there was a small tap on the divider of the bunks. "Hi, Saul."

"Brought you this. Sorry that he's being a bitch." He held up my walkman, probably retrieved from my backpack. I reached out, sliding the headphones around my neck.

"Thanks. We're already fighting about setlists? The show isn't until tomorrow." I peeked my head out more. Axl was standing, stumbling every few seconds from the bus movements, Steven was on the end of the couch, shouting back at Axl, and Duff was nowhere to be seen. "Where's, uh..."

"Sleeping under you."

"How?"

"I have no idea. You've been blessed with a dead sleeper, Iv."

I scoffed. "If there's a fire, he's sure as hell dying."

"That's... Horrible. You wouldn't wake him up? Or try?"

My eyes rolled. "He'd probably groan, tell me to go back to sleep, and then roll back over."

He laughed a little, looking back at the argument. "I'm gonna go make sure they don't fuckin' strangle each other. Sleep well, Iv."

"Hey," I reached my hand out, stopping him. "Do you think we can stop for camera film before the show?"

"I'm sure you'll have time before the show starts. Why?"

"I wanna take pictures of you guys during this tour. Like, I don't know, behind-the-scenes stuff? Use it in the next album's art or something."

He smiled a little bit. "That would be cool. Yeah, there's probably a place by the venue. You have your camera with you?"

I nodded. I had a little 35mm Kodak that my mom gave me when I graduated, right before she died, and it was my prized possession. I brought this thing to most of the gigs I went to, when I was around the Strip, driving, really anywhere. And my room was littered with the pictures I had taken on the thing.

"Get some sleep, Ivy. Big day tomorrow."

"Oh, I'm aware. Now, I think your drummer might be killing your singer." He whipped his head around, seeing that Steven had taken the bandana off of Axl and slipped it around his neck, screaming. God, Duff would get a kick out of this.

"What the FUCK, MAN!" Slash ran over to the two, trying to shove them on opposite sides of the bus. I slid out of the bunk groggily, gripping my walkman in one hand and grabbing Steven by the arm with the other. I dragged him to the far end of the bus. The entire vehicle lurched forward suddenly, nearly sending me flying.

"Get your shit together, man. It's a setlist." I spun around, pushing my finger into the slightly taller man's chest. He watched me in bewilderment. "What the hell did he say to make you do that? I know we all fantasize about it, but why the fuck are you choking Axl out?"

He stumbled over his words. "His voice is just... Annoying."

"That is not a reason to kill a man, Adler! His voice is your money. You need to get yourself under control. You guys haven't even started touring yet, and you've attempted murder."

"I-"

"Shut up and go to bed, you fucking asshole."