Faded Memories (Guns N Roses - Izzy / Axl / OC)

Mood Swings

March 5. 2012
Malibu – California

Melissa

Sitting in my car with lowered window, I hit the button for the doorbell again.
Damn, this was fucking ridiculous. He had to be home, right?
Why the fuck was he avoiding me like that?
I stared at the huge gate to Axl's property and grabbed the steering wheel tightly. God, I was mad as fuck.

It had been more than three weeks since that encounter back home.
Three fucking weeks without a single word from Axl. What was going on here? He could've talked to me on the phone at least. I've left more than a hundred messages on his voice mail.
I felt my eyes tearing up and swallowed hard to force them back. This couldn't be happening. Damn, I never cried. And especially not over some guy.

Pushing the button again, I let out a huge groan. That fucker didn't even have the balls to look me straight in the eye. Fuck.
I opened the door and stepped out of my car, giving the surveillance camera a good look at me. I bet that fucking coward was watching me.
'Fuck, Axl. Open that fucking gate right now.' I yelled and pushed the button over and over again. 'This is fucking ridiculous. I really need to talk to you.'
Nothing. Not a beep. Not even a "Fuck off". Maybe he really wasn't home?

I had no fucking clue what happened.
That night, when Izzy came down into the dining room, he told me to take care of Axl because he had been pretty messed up.
But when I returned to my old room, he had been gone already.
Since then I haven't heard a thing. Not even Izzy could help me out with this.
I begged him to call Axl, and he did. But Axl refused talking to me.
Izzy just said Axl might feel guilty about the whole "fucking his daughter thing".
Yeah, great.
Why wasn't anyone asking me about this? All this shit had been my choice, too.

Things between me, mom and Izzy were good at least.
He took this whole mess very well. Yeah, the perks of having a rock 'n' roll dad. He'd seen it all I guess.
I told him I was in love with Axl. Admitting that was a huge thing for me.
So Axl flaking out on me really hit me hard.
He could at least talk to me, god damn.

I felt my eyes tearing up again and turned away from the camera. I would not let him see that. This was fucking embarrassing.
At this point I couldn't hold back and burst out into tears. Where the fuck was that all coming from? I've never cried like that.
I sobbed a few times and swallowed back my tears again, wiping my eyes and my nose with the sleeve of my jacket. God, this was disgusting.
I turned around to glare at the camera again.
'Axl, you fucking coward! ' I yelled at it. 'Open that fucking gate. This is over? So at least have the balls to tell me that. I'm not gonna leave here until you talk to me.'
I took a look over my shoulder towards the street before turning back to the camera again.
'It's just a question of time until someone's showing up here. And then you've got the press on your ass, buddy.'

Hah! Take that, fucker.
I knew he would take the bait. He would do anything to avoid the press. Even talk to me, I guessed.
After a minute I heard a creaking noise and the gate opened slowly.
My heart raced in my chest. I couldn't believe he finally opened up the gate.
Letting out a sigh of relieve, I got into my car and followed the driveway up to his house.
Suddenly I got nervous. I was desperate to talk to him, but what should I possibly say? I wasn't even sure what exactly the problem here was.

When I parked the car and got out, I saw that the front door left open.
Great. Now I had to look for him all over that huge place.
But when I walked into the hallway, I heard music coming from one of the rooms downstairs.
Axl was playing piano. Fuck. Music would make this way much worse. Hearing him play and sing would make this even worst. There was no way of protecting what was left of my dignity, if I would bust out into tears again.
I swallowed hard and followed the music into the big living room.

As I thought, Axl was sitting at his piano. My jaw dropped.
He looked like shit. That place looked like shit.
There were paper and notes everywhere. Had he been writing all this time?
Looking around I could spot empty whiskey bottles and pizza boxes. God, what was that smell?
I slowly stepped closer and he suddenly stopped playing.
'Can't you people just leave me the fuck alone?' He said without looking at me.
'It smells really bad in here. Did you know?' I scrunched my nose.
'I've been told.' He replied plainly.
What the fuck was wrong with him? Was he fucking wasted? I got closer to the piano and positioned myself so he had to look at me if he raised his head. But he didn't. He just stared at the keys and kept playing.

God, damn. I hated that rock'n'roll shit.
Like if getting drunk and sitting around being depressive all day would solve any problems.
'You didn't call.' I said carefully, not really knowing how to handle his mood.
'Guess the battery died.' He said.
Was he fucking kidding me?
'Three weeks ago, Axl?' I cried out. 'What the hell is going on here? Are you drunk or high?'
He finally raised his head and looked at me for a while. Damn, he looked like shit. His eyes bloodshot, his hair and his whole appearance messy. He hadn't shaved in days, maybe weeks.
'Heard you yelling at the front gate.' He chuckled. 'You're a little firecracker, you know?'

I blinked.
This couldn't be real.