14 years - Axl Rose x OC

12

-January 17th, 1990. Los Angeles, California.

To ring into the new year, Lita Monroe spent her hours in the recording studio. Since her encounter with Axl four weeks ago, she had become on edge. Seeing him again was the catalyst she needed to move forward in her writing. What Lita already wrote for the band's next album was either scrapped or re-written. The song she was writing when seeing him on MTV was the first to go; all inspiration left her brain and she couldn't push herself to write something that made no sense anymore. Before, she had no idea where these songs would go–Lita could not find something to ground them on.

Now every composition that came out of recording studio number four was focused directly on Axl. In years past, when he wouldn't leave her brain and she just had to jot down something so that he would leave, it had been easy. Lita would never admit it, but her favourite, most profound work was based on her experiences with Axl. She'd tried writing about other things, some of which worked, but those of any other relationship in her life, those never made sense. Lita loved Jack, told him so many times, but she couldn't dedicate herself to write about him; that was reserved solely for Axl.

Today particularly was when inspiration hit. Sitting on the yellow, velvet couch in recording studio number four, Lita continued a new piece of prose. She wasn't sure whether this one would turn into something, it seemed a little too personal, but it would fit into her journal nicely alongside the other similar poems.

She grabbed the guitar from the stand next to her and strummed a random chord. Singing along softly, Lita wrote down the notes she played , the song slowly forming. Her hands shook from the coffee next to her, and at least that's what she'd told herself. The anxiety Lita grew up with was a constant struggle in her youth, but it progressed worse when she reached adulthood. By the time she was twenty–she remembered it perfectly: September, 1983–Lita could no longer take it and turned to any drug she could find.

She would go to the street corner, to an old high school friend's ex-boyfriend, and purchase copious amounts of cocaine to keep her settled until she needed more. It became addicting and forced Lita into a life she never wished for, and it was her own fault. Music was her solace, a distraction from the problem that was progressively getting worse.

When she met Jack in early 1985, almost two years into addiction, his friendship brought her away from the drugs. He had been through it with her, and she had been clean since then. But this new uprooting of her life rippled her perfect five years of sobriety. It was a moment she regretted, but she couldn't stop now. Putting down the guitar, back into its stand, and closing the journal she wrote in, Lita paced toward her purse.

Thinking about drugs made her want more and more and more until it made her forget why she needed it in the first place. Opening the pink bag, Lita searched for the baggie and a bill. Pulling out the clear bag filled with 8 grams of cocaine and a 5 dollar bill, Lita spread a little onto the coffee table in front of her. She only used a little, wishing to save as much as she could (it had cost her almost two thousand!) of the substance. Rolling up the bill, Lita snorted the coke with ease, the addiction gave her lots of practice...

Shaking her head, Lita opened her journal again, and, grabbing her purple pen, wrote the beginning line to a song that had been processing in her head for the duration of the snorting. She continued this for another thirty minutes before shame washed over her. How could she be sucked back into this, because of Axl, of all people? Stuffing the coke baggie in her jean pocket, Lita left recording studio number four and walked toward the bathroom.

She was still on edge, hoping to not be caught with drugs or the enlarged pupils displayed in her eyes. Two doors down, the wooden door opened. Stopping, Lita turned to the wall and looked at the painting while the person down the hall left the room. She hoped he wouldn't notice her.