A Brick Wall And An Angry Redhead

Domestic Bliss

Slash

My relationship with Izzy changes everything. I always thought it was fucking ridiculous that people said falling in love made you feel like you were walking on air and hear birds chirping and shit. Maybe all those people had just never done drugs. Falling in love was like a really good heroin high. It left you with a warm, full, sated feeling. Like everything in the world was good and if something wasn't good: well then fuck it. As long as nothing was wrong between Izzy and I then everything else could go to hell and I wouldn't care. But something was kind of wrong; he still hadn't told me what happened between him and Axl. He's been upset since Axl caught us making out last week and he's been trying not to show it but I can tell. He's been drinking more, getting high more often, I've caught him staring off into space more than a few times with a hurt look on his face. When I ask him what's wrong he says nothing's wrong that he's just thinking about a song he wants to write. Maybe he is but that song would be about Axl.

I keep trying to tell myself that whatever's bothering him happened a long time ago and that it doesn't affect us; but it hurts me that he still hasn't told me. How could he tell me what happened with Nikki but not about something that happened with one of the guys in our band? The fact that Izzy and Axl are acting totally weird around each other too isn't helping. I love Izzy, I want to know everything about him and erase whatever's hurting him because whatever happened between them-it did hurt him. I heard him say that Axl broke his heart, I saw it in his eyes when they were talking about it and bringing it up is making him hurt again; and it's killing me that I can't do anything about it because I don't even know what happened much less how to make it better! I wish he would tell me it makes me feel like he's shutting me out that he won't and it hurts. But I would rather hurt than hurt him by telling him how much his keeping secrets bothers him or making him verbalize whatever's inside of him that's bothering him so much. Izzy and I think alike in that; if you ignore it and don't say what it is that's hurting you, don't give it a name, then maybe it will go away. Better to drown your sorrows in a bottle of liquor or a needle.

Izzy has my heart; I love every minute I spent with him both inside and outside of bed. Just one of his smiles could brighten my whole day so I'd spent time looking for ways to get him to smile that slow, glorious smile that lit up a whole room. There was something special about Izzy,about his smile, something almost other-worldy, like he was part fey; I guess here in America they call them fairies or some shit but there was just something that I could only describe as fey in Izzy. His skinny build, his dark hair and eyes, the way he could appear out of nowhere and the magic that came out in his music. Whatever it is I love that about him too. There wasn't much I wouldn't do for him, I'm not sure that there's anything I wouldn't do for him. Shit, it was early morning and I was walking the two blocks to Canter's Deli to score some breakfast for Izzy (ok and for myself). Last night everyone but Axl had gone to the Rainbow and gotten completely obliterated on top shelf liquor. Izz was still in bed sleeping off his hangover and when he woke up from nights like this he was usually starving but his stomach was usually too upset to hold down food. Mark Canter hooked me up with plates full of eggs and home fries and bacon and fruit and latkes, potato pancakes, delicious Jewish food and I went home with two bags of takeout to feed my love and myself. It pays to have friends whose parent's own restaurants!

When I get back to the apartment that I share with the rest of the guys I arrange everything I want for the Izzy and me on plates and leave everything else for the other three scavengers ;Mark provided generously-this was the first time I'd ever paid the guy who's kept me from starving on more than one occasion. We were starting to get really popular on the LA circuit so we had a little bit of money. I start up the coffee pot and fill two mugs and add just the right amount of cream and sugar and throw a couple of forks and knives and spoons onto the cheap metal tray and carry it up to Izzy's room. I sit the tray down on his bedside table and he breathes in deeply; smelling the bounty that's been set out next to him. I crawl back under the blankets and pull Izzy's sleepy form into me and nuzzle my face into his neck.