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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Sloan
Considering the fact that we'd missed Slashes birthday - a true tragedy in Stevens books - we decided to throw the biggest, fuck-ass, party we could under the night life of London's streets.
"We can have booze, and strippers and smack and booze-" Steven rambled, but I tuned him out as we drove in silence. Despite the fact that the band didn't have money to spare, or to even purchase a meal every evening, Axl had returned to the shitty apartment with an even shittier, red car early this morning. We all inquired his purchase and where the fuck he managed to get all the money from, but he just shrugged it off and told us not to worry.
Though now, in this shitty and tiny red car, I'd wanted nothing more to bury myself within the fucking wires and allow the mechanism to consume me whole. I was sat upon Slashes lap, Axl driving with Steven sprawled out in the passenger side - how he always managed to bag that seat, I'll never know - and Duff was sat on the other side of Slashes father, with Izzy smoking out of the rolled down window next to him. What was worse was not only the fact that I was facing Anthony, but that Slash refused to stop kissing my neck and gently stroke my thigh. He - of course - found it totally hilarious and it only added fuel to the fire. He was sick, too, constantly shivering and sniffling and spitting through the open window.
Anthony was both uncomfortable and unimpressed but I praised his ability to shut the fuck up.
Unfortunately, Steven lacked the ability strongly. "I spy with my little eye-"
"Steve-o." Izzy warned, growling lightly in his tone. "Can it, man." At least I wasn't the only fucker in need of some quiet. Steven grumbled and muttered something of everyone's utter 'boringness' and how he was 'just having fun' before he flicked on the radio and turned it all the way up, aggressively spinning the volume dial. In fact, it was such a powered movement that the small plastic circle flew off in a motion of shock. His eyes widened as his hands fumbled to catch the plastic disk, warily glancing in Axl's direction as he gritted his teeth and gripped onto the steering wheel tightly.
Bob Marley blared through the speakers but it was no match for Axl's angered yell. "Adler you're fucking dead!" He cursed, releasing one hand to dig Stevens thigh strongly, sending a groan from between the blondes lips. He continued to punch and angrily stomp on Steven as the car swerved slightly and I noticed Duff grow extremely pale.
"I'm gonna barf." He mumbled, leaning forward and chucking up a copious amount of vodka and more vodka and some McDonalds fries before anyone had the chance to remove themselves from his proximity. It was a light yellow, but mostly clear, and it drizzled down the dashboard, a large amount positioned upon Axl's frozen arm, some on Stevens leg as he kicked the ginger's ribs, and there was a hell of a lot upon his boots and Anthony's shoes. Izzy stared with large eyes, reaching over to yank back his bleached hair, scrunching up his nose at the smell.
Slash pulled me a little closer and grimaced. "You alright, man?" He asked, speaking louder than possible in my ear. For some reason, Bob Marley was still screaming throughout the car and it made communication extremely difficult. Duff glanced up and nodded, a little spit upon his chin, before he faced the floor again, head between his legs, and chucked up. Though he wore sunglasses and his usual bandana to hide the brows, I could sense the form of regret filling Axl as he huffed in defeat, slouching as though he wondered why he bothered. And honestly? I didn't blame him. I couldn't. He'd gone out to buy a car for five alcoholics with serious drug problems. Of course it wouldn't stay tidy. Of course it would turn to shit within the first week. Of course it would get trashed and completely fucked up. They were all wannabe rockstars. Destruction was what they did best.
"Duff you're a fucking idiot." Izzy mumbled. "Could ya not hold it?"
"I'm sorry." He muttered, dejectedly with a slightly strangled tone. "I shouldn't o' drank this muc-" But he threw up again before his words had the chance to make it. We all grumbled and rolled our eyes, the potent stench filling the car. Despite every window being rolled down completely, it still fucking stunk.
"I bought this car for a fucking reason." Axl yelled, punching the radio's off button overly aggressively. Bob drowned out immediately and he continued in his normal, deep tone. "We got signed." He said, slowly drawing his lips to a grin. "And we're gonna be on the radio, man."
Everyone was dead silent, openly gaping with enlightened smiles. "Fuck off." Steven beamed. "Fuck off!" And then it was as though he'd forgotten about the barf upon his leg, throwing his head out the window and screaming as loud as he could; "We're famous, baby!" With the biggest roar and hoot I'd ever heard him produce. The car sort of erupted from there, Slash had sat up straight and was smirking from ear to ear, fist bumping Stevie and cheering loudly. Izzy had let out a short and proud laugh and Duff held his hand in the air, clasped in a victorious fist, as he continued to spew chunks. After his stomach seemed to calm down, he sprung up and yelled out with a throaty voice.
"Fuck yeah!" He chanted. "Fucking turn that shit on!" And so Stevie kicked the button, which unfortunately broke, but somehow managed to still play the radio as we all listened tentatively.
The man within the speakers spoke with a very soothing yet scratchy tone. "And next up is a newly emerging band. They call themselves Guns and Roses, and are the definition of bad news. With a bad reputation and destructive attitude, let's see if their description matches the music. This is Sweet Child O' Mine, from their unpublished and growing album; Appetite For Destruction." And then the igniting riff of Slashes talented guitar rung through the speakers and I swivelled around, smiling proudly, grabbing his cheeks and pulling him in for a fond and loving kiss. He easily melted into it, smiling against my lips, before delicately holding my chin with his forefinger and thumb.
"You did it, baby." I mumbled, pecking him before pulling away and facing the rest of the boys as they head-banged and rocked the fuck out. "Y'all are famous!" I screamed, laughing slightly as they all chanted a 'fuck yeah!' With more enthusiasm I believed I'd ever heard them use in their entire lives.
