Book 3: You Don't Want My Love (Slash FanFic)

Ch. 28: Listen To Me

"So...what song would you like to hear?"

Steven and I stared back at our one-woman audience awkwardly, as if we had never performed in front of anyone before in our entire lives. I fiddled with the neck of my guitar, gliding along the length of it, both dreading and enjoying the familiar feeling of the frets beneath my fingers. Steven kept twisting and turning in his seat, his sticks hitting the metallic rims of the drums with every sway of his body. We were a couple of nervous wrecks, but Al was probably looking more excited than I'd ever seen her.

She had begun swinging both of her feet as soon as she sat down on the bed in front of us, almost as if she couldn't keep herself entirely still. Her hands were clasped in her lap, silently begging us to play for her, and she hadn't stopped smiling since I had gotten my guitar and amp set up.

"I don't care. Surprise me," she beamed with a shrug. "I'm sure you guys are sick of playing the same old shit over and over again, so I'll just let you pick whichever song annoys you the least."

I looked to Steven for suggestions, but he was too busy staring at the drums in front of him. He had this far away look in his eyes. His drum set might as well have grown 15 stories high, and he was staring at it as if it were actually towering over him. This was daunting for him. I struggled to think of a song that would be easy on him.

Paradise City was relatively easy, but it put too much pressure on Steven. He'd have to open up the song all by himself, build the tension, and then give a solid foundation for my riffs. Something like Sweet Child O'Mine or Welcome to the Jungle might also be nice. Sure, they were beaten to death at this point-especially for us band members-but I figured muscle memory would at least be able to meet Steven halfway if he did have any problems while playing.

Just as I was about to suggest I just play Patience and call it a day, it hit me.

"Steven."

His eyes were slow to peel away from the drums and land on me. He still looked somewhat empty and lost as he turned to me. "Yeah?"

"Why don't we play You're Crazy? We can play the slower version," I suggested. "Like off of Lies."

It was perfect. I would be opening with my guitar so Steven wouldn't have to rely on himself for even a second, and the beat would be slowed down to a crawl. This version was also a little less well known to most mainstream listeners, so if Steven fucked up, Al probably wouldn't even realize it. Steven had always preferred the bluesy version of the song anyway, so I figured he would be down.

His reaction was almost immediate. I could tell he was on board with the idea when his tensed shoulders seemed to finally relax a little. I smirked knowingly.

"Uh...sure. Yeah, that's fine. It's a little lamer, is that gonna' be okay with you Al?"

We both turned to Al, who was still bursting with excitement. "Like I said, anything you pick is fine with me."

"We won't have a singer," I realized aloud. I was reminded of strawberry blond hair, a blue bandana, and a pair of aviator sunglasses. My heart sank.

Why was playing one damn song causing me to act like such a fucking bitch all of a sudden?

"You don't need a singer," Al's tone was so matter of fact that I almost believed her. She didn't miss a beat, answering my concerned expression with a reassuring nod. "Your instruments are just fine. You're perfect the way you are."

Her gaze was so level and confident that I blushed at the implication I was searching for in her words.

I hurriedly turned my gaze back towards Steven-or really anywhere that wasn't Al. Like before, he was looking a bit lost, but at least now he was starting to gain some amount of focus on me. It was like we were caught in the smoke of a house fire and we had somehow found each other in the wreckage. Now it was my job to lure him out of the danger. I nodded at him as if to say "Follow me".

My fingers easily danced along the neck, a familiar waltz that they had performed so many times before. The calloused tips plucked and pulled, causing the vibrations of a sound that had become all too familiar over the years. It was an old groove that Axl would've freely swayed to, and one that Al was now bobbing along to in a similar fashion.

After a couple of measures, Steven finally jumped in with an abrupt bang. I zoned out from my own playing, my ears perked and keeping track of the beats of Steven's drumset. With each pounding of his drumsticks, I was able to lose myself further and further into the groove of the song until all of my worries had melted away and I was casually bobbing my head to the beat. I couldn't help myself. I smiled underneath my curtain of hair.

He still had it! We still had it! We sounded just as good as the days when we were selling out arenas. Hell, I think we might've actually sounded better than we did back then.

There were no time restraints to wrap up a concert. We weren't crammed into a stuffy sound booth, forced to replay the same part of the same song over and over. And, although sex had always been a nice bonus at the end of our shows, it felt somewhat nostalgic to not have thousands of screaming fans drowning out the sound of my own thoughts. We had gone back to basics: just me, Steven, and a couple of finely tuned instruments.

We played the entirety of the song, and though it had always been a fairly short number, I was still surprised when we reached the end and I realized just how quickly the song had passed. A deafening silence filled the room as the last faint echoes of our jam session faded into nothing. The sudden eruption of Al's excited clapping pulled me from my trance, and I turned to face her with a wide grin plastered across my face.

"See? I told you you didn't need a singer. You guys killed it!" Al cheered, throwing her thumb up into the air as a symbol of her approval.

Steven laughed appreciatively, airy and sweet with no trace left of the fear he had felt only a few minutes before. My heart leapt and raced at the sound, and his infectious laughter soon spread to me as well.

Beaming from ear to ear, I caught Al's eye and was surprised to see that she was watching me intently. Her lips were curled into a soft smile, and her gaze was warm and tender as she took in the sight of Steven and I. It was that all too familiar feeling, that feeling that Al was looking straight through me. Only this time, there were no signs of judgment, no feelings of contempt. This time, I didn't want to run and hide. Instead, I wanted to show her more, I wanted to show her everything.

"Would you like to hear us play something else?" I asked, surprising myself with just how eager I sounded. Really, my heart was just desperate to have her hear it again. It was shouting through my chest, screaming out "Listen to me some more!"

I had my guitar in my hands and my best friend beside me, so-if what she'd told me before had been true-I knew that there was no way that she couldn't hear it.

"Of course," Al replied without a second thought. "You guys can play as much as you want. I'm here, I'm listening."

And I knew from the expectant poise of her body, the gleam of anticipation in her eye, that she wasn't lying. She wanted more of us. More of me. And, this time, I would happily oblige.

A/N: God, it's been so long. How is everyone? I'll try to update this more frequently. Thanks for sticking around. 💕