80S ROCKSTAR IMAGINES.

don't be like that. • AXL ROSE

   "(Y/N), don't even bother," Slash advised, watching as you pulled on your coat. "Axl will come back when he wants to come back. Whether you go get him won't change anything."

   You let out a heavy sigh as you grabbed your keys. "Couldn't hurt to try, right? It's one in the morning. His scrawny ass will probably get abducted, being on the streets by himself."

   Axl on the streets. It wasn't an uncommon scenario with all the times he had stormed out recently. Fleeing was evidently the man's solution to any conflict within the band, and he'd usually come back after an hour or so. But, now, it was approaching the four hour mark that he had stormed out, slamming the door behind him. And, in spite of yourself, you were beginning to worry.

   For context, you and Axl had been in a situationship of sorts for a few months. You'd go out together, kiss, hook up, all that relationship stuff. But, you two had never put a label on what you shared, meaning that it was not only noncommittal, but there was no pressure to work things out when shit got tough. You two could scream at each other all you wanted, hate each other all you wanted. And tonight, he most certainly hated you.

   Why he hated you was a tough question to answer. The only plausible one that you could come up with was that he didn't get his way.

   Tonight, the band had scolded him for ruining the Guns N' Roses show the night prior. At the show, a man had been holding up a camera, filming the event for fond reliving. But, as the band knew, Axl had a vendetta against cameras at rock concerts. So, he told security to take the camera. And when they didn't, he leapt into the crowd and took it himself. Well, in addition to beating the guy up, that is.

   Then, to make a bad situation even worse, he climbed up on the stage and proclaimed, "Thanks to the lame ass security, I'm going home!"

   A dramatic toss of the microphone, and he was gone. And the rest of the band had no choice but to follow.

   So, it was understandable why the band had some concerns. But, not to Axl. He got fired up as soon as Slash gently introduced his criticisms about his behavior. His anger only intensified as the conversation progressed, and when you chimed in with your agreement, he was out the door.

   And now, he was nowhere to be found.

  Izzy groaned as he stretched out on the couch. "So what? Maybe him being abducted would be a good thing. Isn't it kinda nice when he's not here?"

   He pointed at the sleeping Steven and Duff, both of them on their own respective armchairs. Steven looked blissfully happy even in his sleep, while Duff twitched a little. "Look at those fuckers!" said Izzy. "They never get decent shuteye at this hour when he's around. C'mon, (Y/N), don't you like the quiet at least a little?"

   You stopped to listen, and when Axl's incessant whining wasn't heard, you nodded in defeat. "I do. But, a rogue Axl is never a good thing."

   Izzy groaned again, covering his face with his hands. "Fine, get him. Just get him stoned so he'll be less of a prick when he comes back."

   "He probably already is stoned, Iz." You opened the door. "I'll catch you guys later, okay?"

   "Bye, (Y/N)," Slash replied with a wave, Izzy groaning in acknowledgment. Steven and Duff said their goodbyes in the form of gentle snores.

   You left the house, hopped in your car, and began to drive. "Okay. If I were an overdramatic Axl, where would I be?" you mumbled to yourself as you drove through your neighborhood.

   It was a simple question to answer:

   The Sunset Strip.

   So, to the Sunset Strip you drove.