14 years - Axl Rose x OC

6

-December 18th, 1989

The day of the MTV awards, a special day for the anxious, stressed Lita Monroe. She had assumed that this nomination would be like receiving a nomination from the academy in your first movie: encouragement for your future endeavors, for you know you wouldn't win, but this was a sign that you can do better, and maybe next time you'll win!

The band's manager, Jerry, had sent them a list of the fellow nominees the week following their own letter: Aerosmith's "Janie's Got a Gun," Faith No More's "Epic," Slaughter's "Up All Night," and Motley Crue's "Kickstart My Heart." Her own band's inclusion in this category must've been a perpetual fuck up, for Lita could never see herself go up against such seasoned bands and come out victorious. Like she had previously stated, they wouldn't win. Maybe next year they put their 10 cents in, try again, and snag a win like one would split a paint filled balloon at the county fair after missing the previous few.

But now it was the day of the event, and Lita contemplated everything up until this moment as Melissa applied a fresh layer of silver eyeshadow to her lids, the rest of her makeup and hair already being completed.

The band filed through Lita and Jack's apartment, running back and forth between the bathroom, bedroom, and kitchen in a hurry to finish getting ready before their car, along with Jerry, would arrive, planning to take them to the venue hosting the awards. The three girls had gotten ready together, whispering silently about the other potential winners, praying they didn't make a fool of themselves that night. Lita must've uttered her first prayer in years, knowing how clumsy she could get in front of a crowd.

Jack was sitting silently in the living room watching whatever sport or cartoon was playing while the girls finished in a panic.

"Do I look good? The hair isn't too much?" Lita questioned Della, who seemed to be an expert on the matter.

"It looks perfect, just how you'd imagine: messy, but in a contained way." she replied, not bothering to hold in her laughter at the expression on Lita's face, a self-conscious, mortified stare.

The TV clicked off down the hall, Jack's footsteps approaching the trio while he wrestled with their three clutches in one hand and his keys in another. "Jerry called, he's here and we have to go. We're almost late."

One by one, out the door, The Silent Cherries moved in a haste, not-so-silent manner as the revolving doors of Lita's building almost slammed into her and Melissa. They quickly made it into the limousine, scattering themselves about the seats. Jack then took the bottle of whiskey in the side door, and, for the third time today-for confidence, he said-downed a swig of the potent drink.

Lita often noticed this habit of his, drinking before a special occasion, often telling her later that he did so, for in case he utterly fucked up, he wouldn't remember a thing. She never liked this habit of his, for she perceived many times when he downed the alcohol for fun: in the early mornings, afternoons, and late nights, Jack always seemed to be nursing a drink. Lita never thought it was her business to mention it, he had been doing it since they began dating, but she knew that if he ever became impaired by this disease, she wouldn't know how to properly handle it.

The drive was far to the Universal Amphitheatre in Los Angeles, the after-work traffic busing around them in a hurry. It was only 5pm, but guests and nominees were to arrive early, as stated in the letter.

The band's limousine pulled up to a carpet, deep purple in colour, and the door of the car was opened by a worker, his hand gracing Lita's as he helped her out of the vehicle. Lita opted to dress in a shorter evening type gown, the straps held tightly around the back of her neck, and the cut of the garment deep into her cleavage. Pink lace flitted out of the dress's cut, also hanging at the end of the short thing, which ran just above her knees.