cold november rain (duff mckagan)

4.

"tanner, i think that's everyone. double check my count," effectively, tanner's eyes scanned over each differently toned head of hair on the guns n' roses tour bus, taking in each and putting a check next to their name.

"my counts the same as yours," said tanner, eyes wide as he turned to face craig. craig was a 50 something, big guy with a mustache that most would kill for, accompanied by some serious hair. he had worked with countless bands, but had settled into a career as the bus driver for one band of misfits.

tanner, the much gentler, much bouncier young man next to him, was a valuable member of their road crew. he could intake knowledge like no one paris or any guy in the band had ever known. some would say he was an excellent voice of reason to guys who sometimes could not get their heads out of their asses.

"ok everybody," craig had boomed from the very front of the bus, "we are out of here and onto missouri!" and with that, the big man swiveled on his heel and took a seat behind the wheel, firing up the engine.

"you know, i heard the chicks in missouri are batshit crazy," hesitantly, paris craned her neck to the right to take in the sight of duff and axl, yapping away as the sun shone vividly through the bus window unto axl's vicious copper hair. the light, however, bounced off onto duff's face, thrusting him into an incredible light. it was here, paris had thought, maybe even for a fraction of a second, that maybe he wasn't the most repulsive person she'd ever encountered.

"i know, and you bet your ass i'll be picking up as many as i can," replied duff to axl's off handed comment. at this, paris looked down immediately. "bro you can't, you know that," axl's voice lowered, "you're supposed to be with paris." suddenly wishing she was invisible, paris leaned in slightly.

"you act like it's a real relationship," duff casted him a menacing glance, "i don't care about her or this stupid plan johnson and vaughn created thinking will save my career," he chugged from a glass bottle nearby, engulfing the rest of the liquid. "it's stupid."

axl looked sympathetically, "i know bro. but it's important we keep you in the band, not lose you due to some stupid shit you pulled which i still don't entirely understand. just comply for a bit," duff cut him off, "you sound just like them. vaughn and johnson. i'm gonna do whatever i want, just like i know damn well you would as well." with that, duff stood abruptly and ushered to the back of the bus.

why was he being so difficult? paris wasn't repulsive or hideous or terrible to look at. she was actually lovely and smart and genuine. generous and kind.

maybe that was the whole problem.

duff could stay mad for however long he wanted. if he intended on having a band to report to, he'd do exactly as his higher ups were urging. this was crucial to his career; something he wasn't going to have within the next few weeks if his image didn't get corrected.

if anything, he should be thanking paris. begging on his knees for forgiveness since he's been nothing but oh so terrible to her. he must have forgotten it's quite literally her job to make him look good. but in true duff mckagan fashion, it's all about him. no one else.

pondering on his words for a moment longer than what was necessary, paris stood, marching her way towards the back of the bus after a tightly wound duff.

she gently tugged the curtain back and slipped inside, her eyes adjusting to the low light. no one but duff resided back here for the moment they were alone, and for that, she was grateful. usually the beginning of rides was when most stacked in their hours of sleep.

"incase you forgot about what happened the last time we were in a room together longer than 5 minutes," duff had began, ashing his cigarette into a nearby tray, "we screamed at each other. the bus isn't that big but you're a smart girl, find another place to go."

without thinking, paris quipped, "we screamed at each other?"

"oh here we go," he began, eyes rolling just enough to signal his annoyance, "little miss perfect paris quinn. can't ever be wrong." the words hurtled from his mouth and stuck their landing right in her heart. why does he hate me?

"duff," paris started, standing up straighter than she ever had, "i don't hate you. and i don't want you to hate me for something i had no part in doing."

"no part? well now you have a part. as my fake fucking girlfriend who i want nothing to do with." he finished with a twisted expression, cigarette ash falling to the carpeted floor. "i told you quinn, i can't stand you."

paris' eyes grew dark, fury beginning to rise from a place of deep rooted hatred. before she knew it, her nails dug deep cuts into her palms. "and why is that? huh?"

"can't stand people who think they're all that. never have, never will."

"then why did you not pose a problem when i started working here in the first place?"

duffs face, for the first time in what felt like the entirety she'd known him, twisted up into a smile, "you were dating my boy. i may not respect you, but i respect him."

suddenly it wasn't just the bus that was moving, but as was her vision, swimming with disappointment. "you," her voice cracked ever so faintly, "knew?"

"who didn't know?"

paris felt her knees grow weak, but remained standing, instead letting the panic swim to her breathing as she heaved for breath drastically. "i," she stopped short to gather her thoughts, "i thought he, he kept that to himself."

duff's face did not falter from a shit eating grin. "we're a band. did you seriously think that was your guys' little secret? shame."

hesitantly, paris drew in a breath and unballed her fists that she wasn't entirely sure she'd remembered making. she searched deep within for words of peace, but none came. her voice had transformed from something civil and harmonious, to that of a sheer edge. "there's a special spot in hell for people who aren't thankful for what they're given."

it may have been dark, but paris couldn't mistake the traveling of his eyes from her chest to thighs, swallowing her image with nothing more than a flick of his cigarette. "i know i'm going to hell but i'm sure it won't just be for that."