Bandom One-shots book 3

You Could Be Mine ! Final Part !

~Slash POV~

July 1991.

The air was thick with heat, sweat, and the low hum of the city outside. We were back in the studio after taking a few days off to celebrate Ember's first birthday.

I still couldn't get over how fast that year went. A year ago, Ember had come into our lives like a storm—unexpected, beautiful, and full of chaos. And now, she was a year old, laughing and toddling around like she owned the place, with her wild hair and that signature look in her eyes. Watching Axl with her, seeing him as a dad, had been something else. It didn't matter how much we fought or how messed up things got between us—seeing him as a father, seeing how much he loved her, made everything worth it. And Izzy? That guy was wrapped around her tiny finger. It was something pure, something real.

But life had a funny way of pulling you back into the madness, and that madness was the studio. We had a job to do. The Use Your Illusion albums were in full swing, and we had to finish them. The pressure, the deadlines, the endless days of recording—it was all a blur sometimes. But, if I'm being honest, I didn't mind being back. The studio was where I could get lost, where I could pour everything I felt into music.

Today, though, I wasn't really focused on the album. Not in the way I was supposed to be.

The night before, after Ember's party, I had met this girl. We'd all been out at some bar in the city, celebrating Ember's first year, and I didn't expect anything to happen, but I was caught off guard by how easy it was to talk to her. She had this energy, this thing about her that made you want to lean in closer and listen. She was funny, confident, and had this sharp, intelligent wit that made me forget everything around me. We'd spent most of the night talking, laughing, and then—well, we ended up together at the end of the night.

It wasn't anything too deep, nothing more than a one-night thing, but I couldn't get her out of my head. She was still lingering there, in my mind, somewhere between the lines of my thoughts. And I didn't know if it was the whiskey or the fact that I hadn't felt this way in a while, but I wanted to write a song about her.

I picked up my guitar and sat down in the corner of the studio, my fingers moving over the strings automatically. The guys were busy, running through some other tracks, but I wasn't really paying attention to them. I was lost in my own world, my own thoughts.

I had this idea building in my mind—a song. I didn't know exactly where it would go, but I knew it was something. It was something about her, and how she was untouchable, but so damn irresistible at the same time. She had that look—the kind of look that could make you feel like you could have everything or nothing at all. Like you could reach for her, but she was always just out of your grasp.

I started to play, not worrying about anything else.

"I'm a cold heartbreaker

Fit to burn and I'll rip your heart in two

And I'll leave you lyin' on the bed

I'll be out the door before you wake

It's nothin' new to you

'Cause I think we've seen that movie too, oh"

It was coming to me fast, the rhythm building with each strum. I wasn't thinking about the technicalities, wasn't thinking about the band or the album. It was just me and the music.

"'Cause you could be mine

But you're way out of line

With your bitch slap rappin'