An ill mouthed girl with a fiery temper and bad attitude comes across a blonde headed stranger in her bed whilst covered in something strange. His friends are just like brothers and family soon becomes a tight nation to them all as Sloan grows close...
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Slash
The thought of going to the Scotch Glass made my stomach wrench. I didn't feel like going out and we'd already consumed enough vodka and whisky to last us a lifetime. I also needed to fit in my fix before the high wore off, taking to the bathroom with the appropriate equipment. I inserted the needle into my vein, loving the way it felt, before pressing the slider and leaning my head back in release. The consumption of my body ran in fast and I began to grow higher with every passing second, leaving the bathroom and catching Izzy and Steven sniffing a few lines together off the broken table. I didn't say a word or mention their sloppy attempts at hiding it, and they didn't say anything of my sudden re-appearance from the bathroom. Instead we locked eye contact, nodded, and continued on with our actions. Usually, I'd hop in and join their coke session, though after downing at least two bottles of Jack and a quarter bottle of vodka, I thought better and decided to change the clothing wrapped around my body.
I removed the Led Zeppelin shirt and leather pants, placing on the usual blue jeans and one of Duffs band tee's, sliding on the cowboy boots - as Steven called them - before swinging on my leather jacket and stolen sunglasses, shielding my eyes from the likes of Axl who hated me high.
After my brief apology to Sloan and the end of our goodbyes, the band decided they were officially bored of my moping about. So they'd discussed a way to get me out of the house - free booze, a fuck ton of smack and girls with huge tits. I couldn't go wrong and so I accepted the offer, warily, of course. The only reason in which Sloan was actually called, was because Steven had randomly blurted out - in the middle of our high and drunken studio time - that he missed Sloan. And we all nodded in agreement, because we did too, except from Izzy who simply shrugged but we knew what he meant.
"C'mon, man. Let's go." Duff said, knocking on my door as I heard him swig from a bottle, most likely a large vodka. I grunted something indecipherable, so Duff retreated from the room, myself following not too soon after him. His hair was teased to the maximum and his waterline supported eyeliner, a pair of leather gloves coating his hands. Izzy wore his usual shirt and scarf, though this time his hair without the black cap, and a cigarette between his thin lips. Steven was wearing a white cotton tank, some jeans and his usual Nike sneakers. Axl was no where to be found so I gathered we'd be leaving him behind on our adventure to the Scotch Glass. Honestly, I'd rather take a quick trip back to New York and have a fun night in the Red Veil, but of course, we didn't have any form of transport to carry us there and it was a little absurd to imagine.
It was fucking packed with sweaty bodies and drunken dancers, swaying about with practically no rhythm whatsoever. We'd had a gig or two here before, but other than that, it was a pretty fucking scummy place to hang out; despite my slight attachment to it. Izzy and Steven wandered off to the bathroom - most likely for a few lines or a fix - so Duff and I wandered over to the bar, him halting and letting out a roaring laugh, pointing over toward where that gay bartender stood, rolling his eyes at some girl who crouched behind the bar. "It's Sloan!" He exclaimed with pure amusement. I frowned, squinting my eyes - and, surely enough, it was none other than Sloan Mc-fucking-Cain. I clenched my teeth together, remembering the phone call, before shaking my head and walking over to the opposite side of the bar, standing directly before her.
