All In The Name Of...

Five Years Dead

[A/N: Hey everyone! Here's the beginning of book two! Don't hate me for the time jump, but I've had this one planned for awhile now, hah. Also, special reiteration that (obviously) time/dates/people/personalities/events etc. are changed for the sake of this story, but I am trying to keep a lot of stuff accurate... So, I know not everything is correct, but go with it. Thanks!]

October 5th, 1992

"Are you sure you're ready for this? I mean, you've done a hell of a job of avoiding everything so far..." Axl sighed into the receiver. He was in Seattle since there, tomorrow, was the last day of Guns N' Roses tour with Metallica. It was rare that I actually stayed home for one of Guns' tours, but without Izzy and Steven, I wasn't sure I wanted to be on that leg of the tour the whole time. Of course, I did go to some of the shows, but that was beside the point.

I shrugged to myself, putting my husband on speaker as I pulled out a bowl and a spoon to pour my cereal into. "I have to say something sometime," I admitted, sighing. "Besides, I can't move forward until I do, exactly, because it's all I ever hear; probably all they ever hear, either."

Axl chuckled, and I listened. "Hate to break it to you, babe, but I doubt they do, since they've broken out of their Conspirator shells and have least made their talents work for them." I sighed, rolling my eyes. "Not that you haven't babe!" Axl defended, a nervous laugh escaping him as he reevaluated what he'd said. "But you're the only one letting this whole scenario get into your head..." he trailed off awkwardly, and I stayed quiet. It was impossible to react when I knew he was right.

Finally, I responded. "I just... I can't help but feeling like that band was meant for more than what it got, y'know?"

The answer I got was blunt. "Babe, I'm gonna tell you this because I love you; let it go. If it was meant to be, then fuck, it'll happen. But you can't live the rest of your life wondering what shit would be like if things turned out better. Tonight's the perfect night to set yourself straight, actually; tell the world what you gotta tell yourself, that the Conspirators ain't a thing anymore.

"Baby, you gotta live in the moment and enjoy your life for what it is, not what it should've or could've been. If I spent all my time worrying about what went down with Iz and Popcorn, I'd be a fuckin' wreck, and we both know it..." His voice grew slightly harsher as he continued. "This thing has been tearing you apart lately, and hell, I have no idea why, but you're much better than a band that took you for granted and fucked you over in the end."

Suddenly, I felt smaller. "Shit, I gotta go, Stella." He groaned. "Dizzy and Duff are trying to climb out the hotel window." I had to snort at that, but it didn't break my mood. "I love you, Star," He told me, blowing a kiss into the phone. I returned the sentiment, but then, I was alone.

Five years ago had been the peak of my musical career, when the Conspirators had released Apocalyptic Love. It had been a short-lived stardom, though, since Sonic was dragged away by the cops at the end of our first and only tour for poisoning my best friend, Nikki Sixx, and the band had broken up right then and there. Then, to top it all off, she somehow pleaded out of prison after only two and a half years.

Slowly but surely, I'd let the guilt and frustration about the whole thing simmer in my mind; it meant enough to me that I hadn't been able to just say 'fuck it' and move on. I'd released a solo album, done some modeling and some guest-starring with a few other artists, but nothing seemed to drive the idea of consolation with the band out of my mind. Especially with the fact that I had an interview tonight concerning the matter, it had gotten to me even more, and in turn, it had gotten to Axl as well.

Other than my band paranoia, however, Axl and I had never even drifted apart. The last five years for us had been full of love and adventure, touring and enjoying the life we had as rock stars. Axl never cut down on the drinking, and I never cut down on the pot, but all was well otherwise. We got a house in Hollywood, had it modeled into a mansion, too.