Anastasia

1985-1996

1991

"Are you sure you're a real person." he poked her shoulder. "You're beautiful." Impossibly perfect, to him, and god he had never imagined they would get so close.

She caught his hands. "I don't know," amused. "Do I feel real to you?"

The touch made him shiver as palms moved to skate along her side.

"I think I need more proof. For science."

"Oh, well. If it's for science," she smirked and leaned in to give him a kiss.

"Can you guys not for just one second we're about to go on and you guys are making me want to carve out my eyeballs and shove them down my own throat." Axl pushed past them rolling his eyes.

"You're kind of a prick," Ana replied rolling her eyes at him mockingly.

"Only kind of? Wow, that's an improvement," he muttered as he shook his head and grabbed the mic. 

"Don't listen to him, the whole thing with Erin is fucking with his head." Slash nuzzled his face into her neck and kissed it gently before pulling back and kissing her nose.

"Someone should talk to him, there's a reason he's always angry, he's a prick, but still, maybe needs to talk to someone." she looked up at him, suggesting that he go and talk to Axl.

"Izzy's the one that deals with him, I don't wanna get dragged into the mess that is Axl Rose, it's not really in the job description." he shrugged.

"Since when do you refer to this as your 'job'?" she chuckled and took her beer bottle that was placed on a nearby amp.

"Since, apparently now I have a fucking personal lawyer that deals with all the legal stuff." he rolled his eyes and leaned back against the amp, "We apparently have to have contracts between band members. How fucked is that?"

She sighed and leaned on the amp next to him, "Welcome to corporate Hollywood baby, it's a shit show." she raised her beer bottle to a toast and chugged it.

"Well, corporate Hollywood made us go #1 on Billboard a bunch of times, who the fuck cares." 

"SLASH!" Axl screamed out.

"I'm coming you bandana wearing bastard, relax." he rolled his eyes and kissed Ana's forehead.

"Shoot'em dead cowboy." she gave him two thumbs up as she watched him walk onto the stage behind Axl. 

--

1996 The night Slash quit the band 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he paced around the empty room, hitting the walls and chairs trying to get his thoughts straight. He wanted it to end, god he hated this, hated himself, his life, making decisions, following people, and most of all always trying to be so god damn patient. "FUCK!" he was going delusional trying to find something, anything that would quickly take the pain away. Of course, there was nothing around and it wasn't like he could hit himself with a chair to death. He had been close to death before, but never voluntarily.

The knock on the door made his head snap to its direction, "Shit," he had forgotten that Ana was sleeping in the other room. He sighed and took a deep breath trying to recollect his thoughts and opened the door. There she was looking sleeping and pouty wearing one of his weird shirts with a telephone in her hand. He looked at her up and down, eyes red from the anger he had been feeling before he saw her.

She lifted the phone up to his face, "Call him," 

He just stared at the phone with his mouth open and then looked back at her not knowing what to do.