Book One: Bad Boys Make the Most Noise | Slash

chapter five

Sloan

The migraine seemed to disappear as the gulps of alcohol washed around my body. Walking with my own steady steps, I inhaled the scent I'd grown to familiarise as Slashes own, his arm wrapped securely around my shoulder. His coiled fringe pushed back by those irritatingly expensive sunglasses he'd probably stolen, a wrenching cigarette positioned in his mouth, one hand raising to remove it as he blew out the grey coloured smoke. His scent was pure whisky, musk and toxic sticks I knew I'd adore to try. Upon noticing my staring, he looked down, raising an eyebrow before pulling out the addiction I supposed he had and offering it over with a nod of the head. I complied, wrapping my forefinger and thumb around the upper section, encasing my lips along the very end and breathing in. I caught it in my throat, remembering how my dad had always explained to never breathe in like you do air, and to let it settle in your throat and chest before exhaling and repeating it again. Only I didn't want to use up any of Slashes hard earnt money, handing it back over as I breathed out and the tickle in my throat grew more and more.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked, tripping over my own feet. He nodded, holding slightly tighter on my shoulder as we walked. "Who's your best friend? Like, your very best friend." I questioned, completely seriously with a frown.

He gave a light chuckle, shaking his head, "I don't really have one." He admitted. I gasped in response, looking up with wide eyes. "But," he continued, "if I had to chose... it'd be Duff I think."

"Why?"

"Cause he's Duff, he's the man. You can go to him for anything." He shrugged, throwing the finished cigarette against the ground. "How about you, sweetheart?" He asked, taking a brief look down. "Who's your very best friend?"

I grew a little sad, shoulders slouching as my pace slowed down. Who was my very best friend? "I don't have friends." I responded with a shake of the head. "I never really have."

"Well, now you have us." He said, using his strong arms to evolope me in a small side hug as I smiled larger than I had in a long while, comfortable in his sweaty warmth. We stopped just outside a large bar, practically empty - I mean it was barely one in the afternoon - and found Axl, Duff, Steven and Izzy already inside chatting away with a few drinks before them. "How the fuck are they planning to pay for that?" Slash mumbled, frowning and opening the door whilst removing his hold on me. We took a seat next to the four giggling men, Izzy seemingly irritated as he looked to curly boy for some sort of help, I guess. "How are y'all paying?" Slash questioned, taking a large swig of whatever Axl was drinking. He scrunched up his nose in disgust, "Wine? Really, Ax?"

The red head shrugged, taking a sip. "Its sophisticated." He said, accent posh and mimicking before he and Duff descended into fits of giggles. "And there's a chic behind the bar." He shrugged. Slash nodded, looking with a smirk over to where Duff winked - presumably meaning something dirty. I looked at Izzy, smiling sweetly as he raised a quizical eyebrow.

"You don't talk much." I said.

He shrugged, "I've got nothing to say."

"Even when you're completely wasted," I attempted, slurring incoherent mumbles. "You don't talk. You just laugh and smile a little." I shook my head, he seemed so sad. "Are you sad?" Izzy shook his head, amused. "Are you angry?" He repeated the action, taking a gulp of the bubbling beer in his clear glass.

"I'm just Izzy." He said. "I'm blank."

"Like a canvas." I agreed, leaning back in the chair with a huff. "What are you drinking?" I asked Steven, peering into the mug. Inside there sat a light brown, steaming, liquid, a dark bag spinning as the silver spoon rested against the side.

"Tea." He smiled. I smiled, too. "It tastes funny, though." He complained, still unbothered as he shrugged and drank from the side of the white China. I nodded my head in agreement, tea wasn't great. "How about you?" He asked in return, brows raised. He had such a daydreamers smile, it made me sort of happy just being around such a bubbly person.

"I don't have a drink." I stated, pouting.

"Oh." He frowned, looking around. "Hey, you!" He called over the male waitor. He had shiny black hair, swooped back over his head and his skin was a bit pale, eyes an entrancing ocean blue as his rolled sleeves showcased his muscly arms. "Could you get my friend a drink?"

The waitor nodded, looking over at me with a polite smile. "I'm Joel." He greeted. "What can I getcha?"

"Do you have Monkey Shoulder?" I questioned, licking my lips with a grin. "I love that stuff."

"Of course." He smiled. "Ice?"

"Ice." I confirmed, rubbing my hands together.

"And I'll have a bottle of Jack Daniels, thanks." Slash said, dismissively.

"Would you like a glass?"

"No." He grunted, turning back to whatever conversation he held with Axl and Duff. Only then had I noticed how toned his torso was, shirt tucked into the waistband of his blue jeans.

Steven tapped at my shoulder, drawing my wandering attention back to him. "I think that guy likes you. Joel, wasn't it?" He giggled. "He has a weird name. And his hair." He laughed, shaking his head. It seemed all of the boys had long hair of some sort, even Izzys - the shortest of them all - wasn't exactly cropped.

I rolled my eyes, chuckling slightly. "Maybe his hair isn't as rad as y'alls. But he looks so kind." I admitted, defensively. "So leave the man alone. Trying to earn a wage and here you go talkin' shit."

"Whatever, man." Steven laughed, taking another few gulps of the tea. He grimanced once again, shying away from the liquid. "That is so bad."