veil | W. Axl Rose

ⅩⅤⅡ

𝟎𝟓.𝟎𝟐.𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟔

It was Duff's birthday and the Guns, naturally, had to celebrate it on a bender at the Whisky or Roxy. Linda, however, tried to persuade her brother that maybe the time would be better spent more beneficially in some locale. She had a fair amount of cash to her name after New York, so she figured a little generosity wouldn't hurt anyone. Besides, the guys were poor as a church mouse and their pastimes revolved around clubs and raising hell on the streets of L.A. which branded them as irredeemable bums. Duff, however, remained steadfast in his idea, and it ended with Whisky. He also mentioned it would be cool if she came with some friends from the university. He followed the religion that the more the merrier, but didn't realize the idea was doomed to a disaster. Hence, Linda went with Khatya and Trent.

Deep in the warehouse district, Trent found a parking place under the loading bay of a nut wholesaler. They proceeded down the unlit street, Linda and Khatya careful not to get their heels caught in the spaces between the paving blocks that dated from the turn of the century. The street reeked of waste from the nearby Thai Night Market. They entered the building without a queue, since it was the middle of a week. At the tiny cash booth, a hatchet-faced, with arms like steel cables, bouncer eyed them foxily—Linda, heavy eyed with exhaustion in her black fur coat, Khatya with lips coated in burgundy lipstick, assertive in a jacket of sanguine vinyl and a shimmering dress and long-haired Trent in a kutte vest. He first demanded ID, then ten dollars. Linda pushed in beside Khatya, and shifted her cigarette to the corner of her patent-leather lips.

-Don't be an asshole. Linda McKagan, you've got me on the list, fuckhead.

She smoked her Sobranie Straight like a con, half hiding it in her hand. She blew smoke in his face. He barely glanced at the list.

-Have your girlfriend give us a kiss and we'll let you both in free.

-Ugh, go to hell.-Linda burned a hole in the Formica countertop with the tip of her cigarette.

But Khatya leaned in and kissed the man. She was a girl with a dead from overdose boyfriend, what good were her kisses now? Не was welcome to them, poisoned as they were.

He stamped their hands with the image of a woman smoking a cigarette in a beret, let them pass through the black curtain, into the dark and the noise of Whisky a Go Go.

They weaved through the crowd, the bass from the speakers pulsing like a second heartbeat. Linda spotted Duff who leaned back in one of the booths. His eyes locked onto the trio, and with a characteristic flick of his wrist, he beckoned them over.

The table was a microcosm of various people. The entire Guns N' Roses lineup was there, sans Axl, lounging like lords of the underground. Among them were their chicks and faces Linda didn't recognize.

-Dobro vecher, kulaks.-Linda smiled smugly to herself as she slid into the booth, the leather creaking under her. She leaned in to embrace Duff. Her lips brushed his cheek in a kiss and into his hand she slipped a bag.-Happy birthday.

Duff's eyes lit up with a mix of surprise and delight as he unwrapped the gift. Inside was an effect pedal, a tape recorder, a bottle of 12 years old Macallan, and a ticket to The Damned gig in San Francisco. His eyes popped open at the last one.

-Holy shit, dude!-he remarked and squeezed Linda tightly again.-They were already sold out in L.A.!

-They had the last ones in New York.-Linda smiled and saw Khatya scanning Steven with a focused gaze as if she was trying to recall something.

-Oh my God, Steven!-Khatya laughed.-What a reunion. Did Professor Payne eventually pass you to the last class?

Steven went red and grinned nervously when Slash roared with laughter and patted Steven on the back. The entire trio went to the same high school.