𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘺𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳
Whether it manifested as a fleeting specter, casting its ephemeral shadow across the girl's dreams, awakening her on that least likely of mornings, remained forever veiled, destined to...
For the entire following two days, Linda has felt lousy, her head throbbing. And she knew that what Natasha gave her was crap cut with some other crap, certainly not cocaine. That was something she could have predicted, considering that the whole band could only afford quasi-dope stuff anyway.
On Friday, Mark asked them to dinner at his house, said he'd like to cook some Indonesian dishes he'd learned. Linda waited until noon to tell her mother she wasn't feeling well, that she should go without her. Besides, she had to grab her artwork folders that she had left at Hell House before the party. She dreaded to think if there was even anything left of them there.
Sofiya spent an hour trying on clothes, white Indian pajamas, the blue gauze dress, the pineapples and hulagirls. Linda had never seen her so indecisive.
-The blue.- Linda said. It had a low neck and the blue was exactly the color of her eyes. No one could resist her in blue.
She chose the Indian pajamas, which covered every inch of her warm ivory skin.
-I'll be home early.-she said and added more serious.-And don't you dare hang out with this band. You will send me to an early grave with those hobbies of yours.
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Linda approached the front door cautiously, knowing all too well that Guns N' Roses rarely bothered with locks. As if they were inviting thieves with open arms. But they probably wouldn't have anything to rob them of anyway. Maybe only the TV which wasn't in the worst condition.
The room was dimly lit, with the shades drawn tightly shut, attempting to ward off the intrusive afternoon sunlight. A mixture of sweat and stale booze permeated the air, blending with the scent of leftover pizza boxes and the faintest whiff of something illicit. Linda couldn't help but shake her head in disbelief as she stepped inside.
Izzy sat disheveled on the couch. He seemed to be in the throes of drug withdrawal, his body leaning forward until his head nearly grazed the floor. His eyes, bloodshot and hollow, stared blankly at the carpet. Slash laid sprawled on couch, a wet gauze clinging to his forehead as he groggily opened one eye to acknowledge Linda's presence. Duff was pouring himself a canned soup into a bowl, while Steven...well Steven was engrossed in watching "Dynasty".
-Sheer delirium tremens.-Linda couldn't help but chuckle at the irony.
-Spare me the speech.-Duff pointed a spoon at her accusingly, his eyes narrowed in irritation. The throbbing in his head intensified with every beat of his heart.
Linda arched an eyebrow, unfazed by his hostility.
-You all must've been on a serious bender yesterday. Probably got the craving for that pseudo coke too, huh?
Duff's expression hardened, his jaw tensing with frustration. He opened his mouth to unleash his anger on Linda, but before he could utter a word, she cut him off with a smile.
