Message of Obsession (Duff McKagan)

18: Marks

Just like whenever I went to see Guns, I was crammed at the bar at the back of the venue, taking in the crowd. Most of the people around us were our age, but were dressed much more casually than the two of us. Duff had smiled when we had walked into the venue, calling us fishes out of water.

Ordering another beer, I turned around, attention fixating back on the band. Chris, the lead singer, was thrashing around on stage, singing the words to the last song that I could hardly make out. It felt just like home, except with a lot less hairspray and a lot more denim.

The song ended, Chris thanking the band before the venue began chattering about the next band and the set they just watched. Duff nudged my side. "I'm gonna run backstage and say hello to Chris, do you want to come with me or watch?"

"Hmm?" I looked up at him and snapped out of an odd daze I had been in. My mind hadn't fully returned since the morning, but I felt I was putting up a good front. "Oh, I'll just stay here. Don't be too long."

"Wasn't planning on it. Love you."

"Yeah, love you... too." I started and trailed off since he was already gone. My arm fell to my waist from where it was hovering around his, and I turned back to the bar, balancing myself on a stool.

"Hi."

I whipped my head to the side. A young guy, maybe a little older than me, stood next to me, settling on the stool next to me. He had short, dark hair, dark eyes, and a scruffy patch of facial hair. I quickly turned my head around to the other side, glancing nonchalantly at the backstage entrance for Duff to come back. "Hello," I said quietly.

"You here alone?"

"No."

"So why are you sitting here alone?"

I turned my head back to him, seeing how his eyes traveled my body. "Oh, my, uh, my boyfriend's meeting a friend backstage."

His eyes squinted. "That sounds like a lie."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. So tell me, are you actually here alone?"

I cleared my throat, taking another sip of my beer. I never let my eyes meet his. "No, I am not here alone. I told you, creep, my-"

"Hey, watch the tone. I'm Tom."

"Hello, Tom." My eyes darted to the bartender, who paid hardly any attention. Behind me, the next band tuned up, and most people's attention turned to the stage. Not Tom's however, as it was still fixated on me.

"Not going to tell me your name, sweetheart?" He had to shout over the volume of the song that had just started, and I was growing antsy by the moment.

"No."

"And why's that?"

Out of the corner of my eye, a tuft of blond was visible, followed quickly by the puffy brown hair I had seen on stage. Savior. "Because I don't want to."

And that was the moment that his hand flew to the inside of my thigh, gripping the exposed skin roughly. I still had marks from the last time Duff and I fucked, and he saw them dimly in the room. "These are the marks of a slut, you know that?"

My eyes darted to Duff, full of fear. He met mine from across the room and must have noticed the panic because he was walking faster than Chris. Before he could get to me, however, my body acted before my brain.

My arm raised, fist gripped tightly, and smashed it square into his jaw. I watched him topple off the stool and to the ground, no one in the bar really paying any attention. He faintly cried out, muffled by the loud crashes of the drumset. I felt the pulsing already pick up in my hand, the rings on my fingers throbbing. Duff's hand gently grabbed mine, making my whole body spin around. I felt paralyzed, for a reason I really couldn't figure out. I looked Duff in the eyes, then Chris, who looked equally as terrified, and then back to Duff before storming out of the bar.

In the alley behind the bar, I felt my chest tightening, the tears threatening to come back from before. I scrambled in my pocket for my cigarettes, hoping for momentary relief. 

"What the fuck happened, Ivette? I was gone for two seconds!" Duff had stormed out of the dark building, his hands growing animated with his anger. I had never seen him mad like this, and it honestly kind of scared me.

"Duff, he, he, he wouldn't leave me alone, and then he grabbed me, and he called me a slu- looked at these," I pointed angrily at my thighs, "and said they were the 'marks of a slut', whatever the hell that means. Y'know what-" I stormed away, leaving him in the alley as I busted ass to the hotel.

"Ivette." His boots clicked along the concrete behind me.

"Duff, I'm not talking about this."

"Ivette, why didn't you let me-"

"Duff, will you leave it? I don't need you to beat guys up for me if they grope me! I can fucking handle it." I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, full-on shouting at this point. I knew I was drunk, and I did not care whatsoever. He fell silent, the protesting stopping. "He was groping me, Duff, and I get it, what I did was extreme, but I was scared. I'm sorry I got scared and I didn't know how to react. I'm fucking sorry."

"Ivette-" He gathered me in his arms, holding me tightly. I completely forgot where we were, as I broke down, clinging to his arms. "It's okay. I'm proud of you."

"Y-you are?"

"I'm absolutely sure. My girlfriend just punched some creep's lights out."