Carolina ~ A Slash Love Story

Crossfire

We walked around a corner and it almost looked like an abandoned underground club; the walls were dark and there was a ripped up leather couch against the wall nearest to me. Large rectangular pillars held up the high ceilings, and which were a (now cracked) glossy black color that matched the walls. One wall was completely clear of graffiti, and a nicer (but still rough) leather chair sat in front of it with its back to us, a barefooted leg hanging over the side.

"That black wall over there," Phil shouted over the sound of someone playing drums, "is used for photo shoots, like, a lot, so we try to keep it bare. There's a really nice new couch over there, too. Some dude threw it out because he spilled coffee on it, or something. Brand fucking new," he said.

Being that I couldn't see around the pillar to the couch he was talking about, I only saw legs clad in tight black denim, a line of safety pins down the front, tipped with faded black pointy boots and a snake wrapped around the person's ankle.

I couldn't see anyone, just their legs hanging over the arms of the furniture. They must have practiced in a back corner or something, because while I could hear them, they were hidden behind another wall that stuck out slightly, dividing part of of the room.

Soon, the drums settled down and I heard a guitar, but it seemed off- whether out of tune or off time, I wasn't sure.

"Come on, Slash!" yelled a familiar sounding voice.

I couldn't put a finger on it, but there was something about the tone that I recognized. It was fairly deep, and had a rich quality to it, but I shrugged it off, not being able to put a name or a face to it.

"What?" a raspy voice called back to the first voice.

"You keep missing your queue, man. Stradlin, get over here!" the first voice shouted.

"Yo, Axl, why don't we try Hair of the Dog? That always seems to work," another voice called.

Looking over at Phil, who had a semi-blank expression, I rolled my eyes, deciding to enter the room completely, irritated that he had stopped us in the 'doorway' of the room.

"Duff, why would we play that when we have originals," the first voice said.

Then I saw it, the flash of copper hair, and it all clicked. It was Will, his voice was just a bit deeper. My eyes widened and I began to back away, but being the winner I am, I knocked over an empty beer bottle, drawing his attention.

"Woah," he said, looking at me. "Well, hello, stranger. Long time no see," he said with a sexy grin that he always saved for me.

Nope. Not sexy. I was over him and annoyed with his exit from my life.

But damn, did he look good in that leather jacket and those tight jeans.

"Will," I said with a nod, turning around to leave, only to bump into Phil, who's face held a knowing smile.

"You son of a bitch!" I hissed, realizing that this was his plan all along.

"'Ey! Where you goin'?" Will asked, taking a few steps closer to me.

"Uh, hom-"

"Who's that?" I heard a voice call out.

Freezing, I looked over to where it came from, seeing a person's hands reach down untangle the snake from their ankle, stand up, placing said snake on the couch and began to walk over.

"Carolina?" he asked softly, clearly in disbelief.

I felt my jaw involuntarily drop; it was my big brother. He looked completely different as he walked over to me; his faded black jeans were lined with safety pins and his denim jacket was offset by a purple scarf. His hair was now long and jet black, slightly greasy, topped with a simple black hat. A cigarette hung from his lips, but when he was a few feet away from me, he flicked it to the ground.