The Artists (Slash & Izzy Stradlin)

Trust

"I'm so glad we reached here early, I've always wanted to have a look around New Orleans," I peaked out from the curtain in the bus. 

"I think we have around 4 hours till rehearsal and then soundcheck, we gotta be at the venue by 4," Slash said not looking up from the article he was reading. 

"Ouu, we should go for some gumbo!" I jumped up and down as I moved closer to him.

"Yeah, no, I don't wanna have to deal with that while I'm on stage," he laughed from behind his glasses and hair.

"Since when do you think of things beforehand?" I smirked taking the article away from him,

"Hey!" he protested and reached for the article back, "And for your information, ever since you've gotten here,  I dont wanna make a fool of myself." he gave up on trying to get the article back and leaned back into the seat. 

"Huh, interesting." I nodded my head squinting my eyes at him.

"What?" he said crossing his arms.

"Nothing," I shrugged, "Nothing at all," 

He stared at me confused for a little while before rolling his eyes and standing up as the bus came to a stop. "We gotta be quick to go have a look around, lets go before any of the other idiots decide to join along and get us arrested or something." 

"Speaking of getting arrested, I heard you spent a few days in the pound." I laughed following him out of the bus.

"Who told you that?" he took off his glasses.

"Izzy." I shrugged getting into the cab that was waiting outside of the bus.

"Motherfucker..." 

"It's not his fault, he was drunk out of his mind and I used his condition to get some stuff out of him," I shrugged smiling up at him.

"That whole shrugging and smiling and batting your eyelashes thing ain't gonna work on me okay?" he smirked, "You're cute, okay, but that doesn't hide the fact that I know you're evil." 

"Nah, I'm not evil, just highly curious." 

"Curiosity killed the cat ya know." he lit up a cigarette. 

"So did getting run over by a truck, that doesn't mean I can't ever cross the street though now does it?" 

"What?" he gave me a quizzical look "What the fuck is that even supposed to mean?"

"Whatever you wouldn't get it, you're not a cat person."

"Neither are you, you legit die when you make contact with one."

"Smartass," I muttered under my breath.

"Weirdo," 

"Poodle head," We both stared at each other for a bit before bursting into laughter. 

--

We walked around the French Quarter, looking into all the shops and going into all of them that looked like they had something to do with voodoo. So basically all of them. We even went on a chariot ride through Jackson square which ended up with us getting kicked off the chariot cause Saul was smoking too much and we might have been a bit tipsy. 

We were walking through an alley way bumping shoulders and carrying the stuff i had bought in both our hands.

"Fuck that, fuck you and fuck your horse!" Saul yelled back at the chariot driver. 

"Shhhhhh," I pressed my finger on his lips, "People are sleeping."

"Fuck if I care," he smiled against my finger.  He took my hand and held it as we walked down the alley and into a crowded street filled with music. 

"Oh my god, live music!" I gave my bags to him and ran towards the 4 men playing an old jazz tune. 

"As if you've never heard live music before," Saul laughed and followed me towards the players. I took out a 10 and put it in the hat that was laid out in front. The cello player tipped his hat forward and winked and continued his plucking of the instrument. 

"Saul! You should play with them!" I said pointing to the guitar that lay on the floor next to the four men. 

"Nah," he shook his head shyly and fixed his hair,

"No, what the fuck you should!" I turned to the man on the cello, "He's a guitarist, he's really good they have a show tonight here at the Lakefront Arena!" 

"Don't stand there moping now son pick up the damn guitar," one of the men yelled at Saul.

Saul rolled his eyes smiling like a kid and walked over giving the bags to me and picking up the old guitar and started tuning it. 

He played with them so naturally, making up riffs as he went along. He belonged with that instrument. He belonged to music and it was thrilling to see him live it. 

All of a sudden I heard him start one of my favorite songs. He started playing Lucille by BB.King and all of a sudden I was flooded with memories in the basement together as kids when we would steal my dad's old records and play on the tuned out turn table. 

He looked at me grinning as he strummed along to the song smiling. I covered my huge smile with my hands and stepped back trying to take in the magic of music. The drunk feeling in my body had vanished and was filled with his guitar playing. 

Everyone had gathered around them now watching them play. Saul finished the song and took a shy bow and wandered his way back to where I was standing. I gave him a hug "That was amazing!" 

"Thanks," he took the bags from my hands and put a cigarette between his lips.

"Where to now?" he blew out a puff of smoke. 

"Honestly I could've stood there and watched you play like that all day. You played Lucille! I haven't heard that song in so long!" I bumped his shoulder.

"Yeah, well the tune reminds me of you, not so much the lyrics, Lucille was a bitch, you're far from that." he laughed.

I laughed alongside him as we walked through and into another alley filled with small restaurants, "I think we should go back, plus it'll take a while for us to find our way out of here and get a cab." 

"Yeah, plus I got some stuff to do with Izzy." he trailed on throwing his cigarette on the floor.

"Saul,"

"What?"

I gave him a concerned look trying not to say anything hoping he would understand that I was about him doing anything stupid again. 

"I'm fine okay don't work yourself up over nothing Sonya." he sighed. Obviously I was concerned and obviously, I was getting worked up over the fact that he had a serious drug problem, I cared about him and the last thing I wanted him to do is to kill himself over smack.

"I care, Saul, of course, I'm concerned." I stopped dead in my tracks.

"I know you do," he turned around and stood infront of me, "I can handle myself okay, I'm working on it." 

"Its hard for me to see you like that, I dont want to see you like that." my eyes were starting to water as I try to collect myself and looked up at the sky trying to not let the tears fall down. He put the bags down and cupped my face in his hands and kissed my forehead.

"I'm okay, okay? You gotta trust me, I'm working on it okay? I'll work on it even harder, for you." he looked into my eyes.