Quickdraw || Steven Tyler Fanfiction

Four

Nine Years Later...

Steven's POV

Have you ever done something you know is wrong but somehow convinced yourself was okay?

I guess, the minuit more than one person does it, it suddenly becomes 'okay' - or so most seem to convince themselves. Like back in the day, sitting in those box chairs at high school. The minute one kid spoke, the whole class was yapping and squawking like wild animals.

It was the same for me with drugs. I knew it was wrong but everyone else was doing it - so why not me? Of course, I'd been around drugs the majority of my life, god, I got excluded from school for drug possession!

It was a shame, though. Aerosmith was becoming more widely known for our notorious drug use, rather than our music.

The band was falling apart. We fought 24/7. If something didn't change, it'd fall apart for good.

We all knew this. We were just too lazy to make a change.

The local watering hole was the only place I could get satisfaction. I shared so many memories with that place. I'd drink away my sorrows, snort line after line of coke and fuck a pretty girl in the restrooms. Maybe even a few pretty girls at the same time. Hell, they don't even have to be pretty.

Late one evening, I'd stumbled in on this place for the 600th time, ordering my usual at the bar and drinking it all in one. As per usual, I'd spotted a girl decent enough to catch my attention - long strawberry-blonde hair which flowed down to her chest, long legs like curtain rods and  squeezed into a skirt that's just a little too tight.

Perfect.

Well, seemingly perfect for a one night stand at least. And plus, talking to women had become so much easier ever since I got famous.

Nobody needs to ask who I am. All the ladies wanna sleep with Mr Steven Tyler, and he rarely disappoints.

I hadn't had a proper relationship in at least two years. All these groupies and sluts and whores I met took care of my sexual needs. But, truth be told, I wanted more. I wanted to love and be loved in return - and not just because Im in a rock band. I wanted someone to love me for me. I wanted it all - and god knows I'd do anything for it.

Anyways, I'd spotted this girl sitting at the bar. As per always, I sauntered over to her with my best smile and tightest jeans.

"So, may I ask what a girl like you would be doing in a place like this, or would that be too cliché?" I chuckled, taking the seat next to her.

"It's too cliché" the girl replied, not even catching sight of my face, before looking up at me and realising who I was. She looked stunned - most girls react that way when they meet The Steven Tyler from Aerosmith.

"And before you ask - Yes, it's really me." I added harmlessly, winking playfully at her. Her lips were slightly parted in mere shock at seeing me. I chuckled to myself. But, then she spoke, and my expression fell.

"And by that do you mean: 'Yes, it's really me - Another wimpy smackhead rockstar that looks down on others not as 'talented' as me and hires prostitutes to flatter me about my 'one inch wonder'?" The woman said blunty.

I furrowed my brows, tilting my head in confusion as to why she lashed out so suddenly. I mean, come on, that was harsh!

"Listen, lady, I'm sorry that I've done something with my life unlike little people like you" I retorted, equalling her harshness.

"Little people?! You disgust me! You don't get to decide who's important and who's not!"

I groaned, rubbing my temples and grumbling in frustration. "I didn't mean like that..."

"Then what did you mean?" She asked, staring me down. Upside, this gave me a chance to examine her features. She was rather pretty, to be fair. I chewed on my inner cheek as I stared into her almost feline eyes, rubbing my jaw.

"Steven, tell me..." She spoke again. I said nothing.

"Steven Tallarico...Tell me what changed you from the innocent boy with a dream of singing songs to an ignorant asshole who uses his fame to do his dirty deeds?"

At this moment, I looked up. My brows furrowing as I looked deeply into her eyes, searching them thoroughly. Not missing one dilation of her pupils.

"...Why did you call me Tallarico?"

That name was used strictly between friends and family. To the rest of the world, I was Steven Tyler. And I had been for around five years now.

"That's not the point." She sighed, avoiding my eye contact on purpose.

"No, this matters! How did you know to call me that?! Nobody calls me that!" I found my voice raising almost without me realising, and several people in the pub had turned to face us.

"Maybe I just wanna be here. Is that alright, kid?" The woman stated randomly.

I paused...The words weren't random at all.

1970, backstage...One of Chain Reaction's later gigs...Where I first heard Joe play....

Oh...Right...I see now...

The woman is Lucy.