Bandom One-shots book 3

You Can't Leave! (Izzaxl)

~Very Sad. Get tissues~

~November 7th, 1991~

The clock on the wall ticked slowly, the sound echoing in my mind as I paced my living room, waiting for Izzy to show up. The air felt heavy, thick with tension, like a storm was brewing just out of sight. I had a sinking feeling in my gut, a sense that something was about to change everything. I tried to shake it off, but that knot tightened in my stomach.

When the door swung open and Izzy walked in, his demeanor hit me like a cold gust of wind. He didn't look like my best friend; he looked like a man carrying a weight too heavy to bear. I wanted to reach out, to ask if he was okay, but the look on his face told me he wasn't here for small talk. I could feel the gravity of the moment hanging between us.

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed tightly over his chest, as if trying to shield himself from the conversation we both knew was coming. My heart raced. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. The silence stretched on, thick and suffocating, until he finally broke it.

"Axl, I'm leaving the band."

Those words hit me like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of me. "What the hell are you talking about?" I shouted, anger and disbelief crashing over me like waves. "You can't just walk away from this! From us! We've built our lives around this dream—this is everything we wanted when we left Indiana!" My voice echoed in the room, desperation bleeding through every syllable.

Izzy was calm, unnervingly so, and that only stoked the fire within me. "Axl, it's not that simple," he said, his tone steady, but it felt like a betrayal. "I need to do this for myself."

"For yourself?" I nearly laughed, but it came out as a harsh bark. "What about what we built together? What about all those nights in the clubs, the sweat and blood we poured into this? You're just going to toss it all away?" The words spilled out, fueled by anger and a fear I couldn't articulate. I felt like I was on the verge of losing everything.

"It's not like that," he said, his gaze unwavering. "I can't keep going like this. I need space, Axl. I'm losing myself in all of it."

His words sliced through me, and the room felt like it was closing in. "Losing yourself?" I spat, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. "We're supposed to be in this together! You're my best friend! How can you leave me in the middle of this? It's like you're abandoning me!" My chest tightened, rage and hurt clashing within me. I couldn't wrap my head around it. How could he just give up on everything we'd worked for?

Izzy's eyes softened for a moment, and I saw a flicker of the bond we shared. But it was fleeting, quickly replaced by that same determined look. "Axl, this isn't just about you. I've been feeling this way for a while, and I can't ignore it anymore. It's time for me to go."

"No! You can't do this!" My voice rose, frustration spilling over. "You're my brother! We've been through hell and back together. I can't imagine this band without you. It's not just music to me—it's my life, it's everything!" Each word felt like a desperate plea, like a final attempt to hold onto something I feared was slipping away.

The silence that followed was heavy, almost suffocating. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes, a mix of frustration and heartache. I never wanted to show this side of myself, not to him. I was supposed to be strong, the frontman, the one who could handle anything. But in that moment, I felt utterly powerless.

Izzy didn't flinch. "Axl, I need you to understand. This isn't about you. I have to do what's right for me." His voice was calm, but it only fueled my anger. I was torn between wanting to shake him and wanting to beg him to stay.

"Do you think it's easy for me?" I shouted, my voice rising again. "You think I want to lose my best friend? The guy who knows me better than anyone? You don't just walk away from this, Izzy! We had a plan! We were supposed to take over the world together!"

He shook his head, looking pained. "You'll be fine without me. You're a great songwriter, a great performer. This band can still thrive, Axl. You just have to believe in yourself."

"But it's not just about me! It's about us!" My voice cracked, and I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. "You're part of the heart and soul of this band. Without you, it'll never be the same. I can't just replace you!"

The fight between us escalated, words flying like daggers, each accusation hitting harder than the last. I felt like I was losing a part of myself, a piece of the puzzle that made everything work.

Finally, he sighed deeply, the weight of our argument hanging heavy in the air. "Axl, please. Just let me go. I can't keep doing this. I need to find my own way."

In that moment, I realized there was nothing more I could say. I felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff, watching him walk away. "Izzy," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the pounding in my chest. "Please don't do this. I need you."

But before I could stop myself, the words burst out, raw and unfiltered. "I love you, Izzy! I love you, man! You're my best friend, and I don't want to lose you!" The admission hung in the air, thick with emotion, my heart racing at the vulnerability of it all.

He turned to me, eyes wide with surprise, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. I could see the shock in his face, the uncertainty flickering in his eyes. But then the moment passed, and he just shook his head, looking away, as if my words had cut too deep.

"Axl, I..." he started, but the moment slipped away, and the gravity of my confession sank in, wrapping around us like a fog.

"Just don't go," I said, my voice cracking, my chest tight with desperation. "We can work through this. I can change! We can change! We can figure it out together!"

But he didn't budge. The look in his eyes was that of someone who had made up his mind, and it tore at me. "Axl, I need to do this. I can't keep pretending everything is okay."

As he turned to leave, my heart sank. "Take care of yourself, Axl," he said softly, almost as if he felt sorry for me. Then he was gone, and I was left standing there, staring at the empty doorway, my heart shattered.

The silence that filled the room was deafening, a stark contrast to the noise that had always been there. The weight of my confession hung heavy in the air, and I felt a deep ache in my chest. I had bared my soul, and it hadn't been enough to keep him from leaving.

In the days that followed, I felt like a ghost, wandering through the haze of my thoughts. I had to do something, anything, to cope with the pain. That's when I picked up my guitar. The music poured out of me, raw and unfiltered. I wrote "Don't Cry" for him, for us. It was all I could do to express the anger, the hurt, the desperation I felt.

It was a tribute to what we had, a reminder that even though he was gone, the memories would always linger. As I played, I realized that no matter what, Izzy would always be a part of my world. I just hoped he'd remember that, too.

But deep down, I also hoped he would hear my confession in the song—the love that I had for him, the bond that was unbreakable even in his absence. And as I strummed the final chords, I knew I would carry that love with me, always.

~You Can't Leave!~

~There will be an alternate version of this~