Anything Goes

Sayonara (Revisited)

“Holy FUCK! What the hell happened to your face?” I gasped at the splotchy blue, green, and purple that made up his right cheek.

“Geez, Axl, is it that noticeable?” Tracii said sarcastically, unpacking his guitar. Well, excuse me for living. The rest of the band was staring too. “What the hell are you guys looking at? Go tune or something. Damn…”

I cupped his cheek gently. He winced. “Does it hurt?” I asked, examining it. It looked ugly.

“Yep. Sure does. Please stop touching it.” Tracii said in a pained voice. I made to turn away, but he grabbed my wrist and spun me back around. He looked me in the eye, then everywhere else. He was inches from me and my heart started to pound. I swallowed nervously.

“How do you feel?” Tracii murmured. I blushed. Horrible. Awful. Terrible. I had nails in my throat and I felt like I was melting.

“Fine.” I said softly, looking at the floor. Tracii led my head up by my chin. He stared at me. I could see the gold flecks in his brown eyes.

“You swear?” Tracii said softly, cupping my face. Christ it was hot in here. I nodded, feeling my face burn. He leaned in--

And tapped my nose with his finger. I blinked. What the hell was that about?

“That's for being nosy.” Tracii said, strapping on his guitar and walking away with a wave and leaving me standing there like an idiot.

***

“I wish you'd tell me what happened to your face.” I said as he packed away his guitar. He sighed and shut the lid of the case.

“Ok, if you really want to know, it was Izzy Motherfucking Stradlin. Your friend, if I'm not mistaken. He decided he didn't like my face. So he improved it.” He lit a cigarette bitterly. “There. Happy?” I stared.

“Wait...Izzy did that?? I said, dumbfounded. “Izzy doesn't go around hitting people. He's smarter than that."

"Smart? He's a fucking junkie!" Tracii spat. “He must have been on some shit last night when he decided to fucking deck me out of nowhere. Motherfucking jackass.” My blood pressure started rising, and with it went the pain in my head and throat.

"Hey, watch your fucking mouth, he's my friend." I said venomously. Tracii slammed the guitar case on the floor.

“Oh, so now you're going to pick on me too? Fucking really? I haven't done anything to you or him!” Tracii said. “Why the hell is everyone picking on me all of the sudden?”

“Because of your mouth? Just a thought.” I said bitterly. “Or your inability to understand the word “no”; there's a better thought."  Tracii was getting pissed.

"You weren't even fucking there and you just assume that I'm in the wrong? I thought we were fucking friends!”

“Friends don't bash other people's friends!”

“If you love him so much, why don't you just go suck his junkie dick then!” I saw red in that very moment. I kicked his guitar case over. And pushed him.

“Fuck you! You know what, I quit! I'm DONE!” I screamed. And in that moment, it felt like I'd torn up the tissues in my throat. I almost cried in pain. The pain was unholy. “I’m fucking done, Tracii. Done with you, done with this, done. I've had it!” I said angrily. Tracii raised his eyebrows.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You can't just walk out! What the fuck am I supposed to do?” Tracii snapped.

“Find someone else. I'm sure you know someone who doesn't mind playing second fiddle to you!” I said.

“Second fiddle? This is my band! I started it, I named it, I picked everyone in it! Including you! You take everything so personally. No one else has an issue with me but you. Why do you have such a problem with me leading this band?”

“Because you hog the spotlight, Tracii! It always has to be about you! What about me? What about the rest of us? We're your bandmates, throw us a bone once in a while, for once in your--"

But I started coughing halfway through my sentence. Fuck. It ripped at my lungs and hurt like a bitch. I had to sit down in one of the folding chairs. It took forever to pass. I saw a pair of boots right in front of me. My eyes streaming, I looked up. Tracii was standing over me. He didn't look pissed anymore, he looked...worried.

“...are you ok?” Tracii asked me, concerned. No, I'm not. I feel like shit and my lungs and throat hurt. I just want to go home and lay down under the one shitty blanket I own. Ugh. I felt weak. I felt a gentle hand on my cheek. He had soft hands, especially for a guitar player. “You look awful…” I cleared my throat.

“I'm fine.” I said in a scratchy voice, looking away and feeling my face flush.

“Oh, bullshit. You've looked horrible for a month. Everyone else noticed too. You ought to go to the doctor.” Tracii said. He knelt down in front of me and rested his arms on my legs. When I wouldn't look at him, he lifted my chin with two of his fingers. “Please go to the doctor. Ok?”

“Yeah. When I get paid.” I mumbled, blushing. My face felt warm. He was still looking at me.

“You really want to quit?” Tracii asked. I looked him in the eye. He was pretty. Flawless skin, deep eyes, shiny hair. I sighed deeply.

“This isn't working, Tracii...I don't think I can do this. This just isn't working.” I said. Tracii looked long and hard at me.

“...Ok. I get it.” said Tracii heavily. “Man...replacing you is gonna be hard. I had my heart set on you for a long time…”

“Listen, we can still be friends. I'd be happy to work with you again in the future. And I don't mind hanging out with you. Just don't ask me to buy any alcohol for you.” I said. My head was pounding. Tracii nodded.

“Yeah. You got it.” He said, sighing.

“If it's all the same to you, I'm just gonna go home. Maybe lay down for a while.” I said, standing up. But as soon as I did, I knew I made a mistake. Suddenly, I felt really weak and dizzy. The room spun and I swayed a little. Tracii rushed forward, and grabbed me so I wouldn't hit the floor. I felt really warm. He looked really concerned.

“Are you alright?!” Tracii asked. I nodded, but I wasn't really sure. “Let me drive you home. I don't want you walking home like this. I don't mind. I'd prefer you get home safely and not pass out.” He put an arm around my waist to steady me, walked me out to his car and helped me get in. He slid in himself and started the car. I rested my head against the cool glass of the window. Christ, that felt amazing.

“You really need to go to the doctor.” said Tracii after a period of silence. “I'm dead serious. You've been sick like this for weeks. It's obvious you need medicine. Antibiotics or something. Otherwise you're gonna end up with pneumonia, or worse. That shit kills people, you know.”

He walked me up to my apartment and then I to my bedroom. I collapsed into my bed, sinking into the pillows. My joints hurt, my head and throat pounded and my stomach was sore. Everything just fucking hurt. And I felt drained, like all the energy had just been sucked out of me. Tracii surveyed me.

“Are you going to be ok?” Tracii asked me genuinely. I pushed my hair out of my sweaty face.

“Yeah. I'll be fine, Tracii. Don't worry about me. I'll just take some Tylenol.”

Tracii stared and knew I was lying. But he shrugged and left anyway, hitting the light on his way out.

I sighed and shut my eyes. What a fucking day.