Crash - Guns N Roses Fanfiction

ONE

1985

As I listened to London Calling by The Clash one late June night, a strange-looking group of men walked down my street. I stared at them from my bedroom window, putting my hairdryer down, and listened to them bicker about something. They fooled around and shoved each other a bit and, honestly, they seemed to be pretty wasted.

I went back to combing through my still-damp hair and didn't think much more of them until I heard their voices coming closer... and closer... and closer...

Then a knock at my door sounded, which was followed by someone saying, Use the doorbell, dumbass and soon after that my doorbell rang, accompanied by another knock.

On my way down the hall, I ducked into my bathroom, quickly adjusting my semi-dry hair, attempting to make myself look at least somewhat presentable. My reflection showed a makeup-less face--which made my blue eyes stand out remarkably--a tight black tank top on my chest, and pyjama shorts that came a little bit too far above mid-thigh. Not awful.

Exiting the safety of the four walls of my small washroom, I watched them interact through the window on my door for a moment. Just to make sure none of them were carrying any... poorly concealed weapons, per se.

A few characteristics stuck out for me: one man with extremely dark, curly hair wore a peculiar top hat, another had a bandana, sunglasses, and long, copper hair. The rest looked fairly--dare I say--normal, besides a lot of teased hair and everyone wore black clothing.

If I'd spotted these people in my hometown, I might have been a little more shocked. But in LA... well, anything is possible.

"Hey!" one of the blondes noticed me approaching the door and pointed me out to his friends. "Someone's coming!" he had a lazy smile and his eyes were a little glazed--much like everyone else--but he was still quite attractive--again, just like everyone else.

They all tried to look through the same window at the same time--which looked pretty funny in my point of view, so I couldn't help but let out a small smile.

Another person said, "She's hot," which I nearly rolled my eyes at. I managed to keep my curious and innocent facial expression intact.

"Yeah," a few of them agreed, others just smiled a bit goofily and nodded.

I slowly unlocked my front door and opened it. Instantly, I was hit with a strong mix of odours--cigarette smoke, alcohol, and a lot of pot. Like, an alarming amount.

"Uh, can I help you?" I asked warily.

"Hello, miss," said a cheerful, tall blonde with a big, goofy smile. "I'm Duff," he pointed to himself, "that's Axl," the redhead smirked and waved with two fingers, "this is Slash," the one with the top hat remained nearly expressionless, a smirk dancing across his lips for split second, "here's Izzy," he introduced a brunette man--who I could barely see, while he stood at the back of their group, "and that's Steven," he showed me another, shorter blonde.

"...Hi?" I said confusedly. It's not every day that five strange men come to my door and randomly introduce themselves with weird names.

I made sure not to open my door too wide, leaving it ajar just enough to show my face.

"Okay, so--" Duff was cut off.

"Hey- is that The Clash playing?" someone asked.

A pause. "Yes."

"Sweet!"

"Thanks," I tried to smile.

"Anyway," Duff began again, a little exasperated this time. "We don't have a place to sleep, and we don't know anyone in this area, and we're kinda lost and don't know where to go, plus we also didn't--"

"What he's trying to say is," Axl interrupts him, which Duff looks rather annoyed about. "We need somewhere to crash for the night, so we were wondering if we could stay here."

"...Wait, what?"

What the hell was I supposed to say? Or do? I seriously thought these people at my doorstep were crazy--literally. I couldn't have just let them sleep on the streets, though, for God-knows-how-long. Anything could happen to them, and I wasn't about to be the one to blame.

"We aren't crazy, by the way," a man, I think Steven, assured me. Well, as long as he's telling the truth, then I have one question answered, I guess.

I opened the door a little wider, trying not to be rude, but blocking any entry with my body. I smiled nervously.

"Um... I mean..." even if I agreed to this, where would they sleep? I didn't really have that much space for five grown men to sleep in. I rented a single-floor home with just enough space for myself and a bit of furniture.

"We know this is a strange situation, but were only asking for one night," Axl chimed in. "We promise," he held his pinky out for me to latch on to. I didn't know where his hand had as of recently, so I was apprehensive--which he could obviously see--so he dropped his arm.

"I d--" I started, just as Slash stuck his own pinky out instead.

"My hand's cleaner, don't worry," Axl pushed Slash sideways and he stumbled a bit, moving his hand back down to his side and offering Axl a bashful smile.

"Well..." I said, which then inspired each of them to erupt into a chorus of Please! Please, we'll be good! We won't bother you at all! Please! even though I was planning on giving in to their cause anyway, if only because I felt bad for the poor, homeless, intoxicated men.

"I guess... just one night," I repeated sternly, "One."

The men on my doorstep bellowed and hollered in success, high-fiveing one another, and Steven even engulfed me in an enormous hug.

"One less night on the streets!" someone cheered.

I couldn't help but crack a smile.

--

Chapter one = done :)

Tell me what you thought about this chapter if you want. No obligations here tho.

-megan xx