Living Like A Runaway

Tryin' To Be Me

[A/N: If someone understands the title reference I will love you forever I swear]

For once, it was a lazy afternoon. I had nothing to do, nowhere to go, and I genuinely planned on just spending the day with me, myself, and I. So, there I was, at two in the afternoon, just relaxing in a bathtub with a stick of incense and Foreigner on the radio. I'd told Axl I wanted a me-day, to which he'd whined, but ultimately agreed to after a, uh, sexual favor. Of course, I didn't owe him that, nor did I feel as if I did, but it made my life easier, and I didn't exactly mind.

The phone rang once. I sighed, and considered answering it, but then I figured if it was that important, either I'd get another call right away, or a voice message. Instead, I sank deeper into the bathtub and let the Classic Rock fill my ears. I even managed to shrug it off when I got a second call, purely because I didn't feel like answering.

On the third call, I gave up on ignorance. So, I lit out my incense, turned off the radio, wrapped a towel around my body and picked it up. "Hello?" I asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice.

"Stella! It's Vince, babe. You gotta turn on the rock news, dude, they're saying some things about you that uh, you should see..." I immediately turned Vince onto speaker-phone and started flipping radio channels, not wanting to leave my room for the television. When I flipped to the channel, I seriously couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"Is Stella Starr up to no good? Being affiliated with the best in the biz has its perks, but what's this hard rock heroine really been up to? We've seen Stella with not only Axl Rose of Guns N' Roses, her boyfriend, and Michael Starr of Steel Panther, her dad, but also hanging out with the rest of both bands, as well as with members of Mötley Crüe and Poison. Could this be a musical project in the works? An innocent collection of friendships? Or is Stella just looking to sleep around?"

My jaw hit the ground. "What the fuck?" I blurted, "Shit, Vince, I'll call you back." 

The singer chuckled uncomfortably. "Make it quick, then, because there's press crawling outside our fuckin' place. I reckon they're at Bret's house and the Guns house too. They're probably outside of yours if you didn't look, either." I didn't respond; I just hung up.

The first person I called was Bret. "Are there any paps outside your house?" I asked immediately, not even bothering with an introduction. The Poison singer sounded confused, telling me nobody was there. "Because apparently I'm a cheating whore, according to the press..."

"What should I tell 'em, then?" Bret asked. "I ain't gonna say anything if you don't want me to, Stel, it's your battle first." I sighed, biting my lip.

"Just tell them the simple truth."

I called Vince to tell him the same thing for his band. Then, I called my boyfriend's house. Oddly enough, it was Slash that answered. "Stella, why the fuck are all these press scumbags trying to break down the door?" He asked, irritated. "They keep asking about you, and we've done nothing but shut the goddamned door."

Rolling my eyes, I ignored his tone. "Apparently my hanging out with so many band members means I'm a whore, which is fucking stupid. All it means is that I actually have friends." I was genuinely annoyed, and somewhat frazzled at everything going on surrounding this. Shit was never easy, was it?

Slash laughed a bit, and I could tell he was drunk, but I genuinely didn't care. "Jeez, Stella, that sucks. Axl's asleep, but I'll tell him to call you when he wakes up, so he hears it from you and not me... I'll just break his balls about it, and he'll flip his shit, and you know how that fucking shit goes. Uh, should we answer them?"

"If you want," I exhaled. "Just tell 'em the simple truth, then. They can go fuck themselves at this point... Actually, I have to go get 'em off my property too. I'll call you back when I'm done, Slash."