You Could Be Mine ➷ Slaxl

Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ Fᴏᴜʀ

Slash and I began avoiding one another.

The tension was inevitable, along with the schism formed between the band. Steven disappeared from our lives, and memories of Izzy were the only thing reminding me that he truly existed.

The concept of fun became rare, even after we introduced a man named Matt Sorum into the group, subsequent to me continuously denying him entry and sympathy. The routine grew redundant. I'd show up to the studio, and Duff would already be there, bass hanging off of his shoulder and a mug of coffee pressed against his lips. Soon, Slash and Matt would arrive, murmuring indistinct greetings and avoiding me for the remainder of the time.

I never sounded good anymore. My voice grew hoarse after Slash's constant requests to reattempt the choruses due to them not being passionate enough.

But what could I say? My passion had trailed off— along with my inspiration.

However, today, the environment felt different. I bring the mug to my lips, watching as Duff and Slash exchange quick glances before lowering their heads. Skepticism is clear in my expression as I glance between them, cocking an eyebrow.

"What?" I hiss, demanding as per usual. Duff catches his bottom lip between his teeth, shrugging his broad shoulders causally before flashing Slash a harsh glare.

"I uh.. We have a new riff—"

"Idiot," Duff spat, interrupting Slash who shamefully scratches his neck. I rest my coffee down and clasp my hands together.

"Seriously, what's going on?" I ask, this time lowering my voice in hopes of a more adequate response.

"Slash wants to have dinner with you tonight," Duff blurts out, earning a loud scoff from Slash.

"You make it sound like a date."

"Oh, was that not what you intended it to be?"

"Shut up, both of you!" I glare at them, and then turn to Matt, who was timidly sinking into the corner. "Leave," I order. He nodded vigorously, grabbed his mug and scampered out of the room.
Typically, we walked over Matt, not really granting him the respect he deserved for taking up the position of drummer in this band. Although, not much guilt came with making him the runt of the group.

I stood up, running a hand through my hair and growling at the two men before me.

"What the fuck is going on? Cut the humor," I demand. Slash exhaled loudly and rested his guitar down, glaring at Duff.

"We need to talk," he spoke monotonously.

"Over dinner? I don't think so," I retort, although dinner with Slash did sound somewhat desirable. But it was wrong— forbidden.

"No, not at all!" Slash quickly exclaimed, and my cheeks flushed with slight humility. What did I expect?

"Good," I force out, quickly downing the rest of my coffee, urgent to conceal my absurd expectations.

"I just want you guys to get some time together, clear the tension, y'know?" Duff shyly murmured. Guilt succumbed me knowing well that the bassist missed our friendship. He missed the days where everything wasn't so complicated— so frustrating.

I gritted my teeth, taking it all it had in me to swallow my pride and nod my head, agreeing for Duff's sake, and his only. There wasn't a part of me that wanted to spend time with Slash!

"Alright," I exhale. "If it's not dinner, then where and when?"

"I mean it could be dinner~" Duff cantillated, earning a gentle smack upside his head from Slash, who shook his head and allowed his wild curls to hide his face.

"How about I just.. pick you up at seven? We'll figure it out by then," Slash suggested.

"That sounds like a date," Duff chimed, receiving another smack. The sad thing was— he wasn't entirely wrong. It completely sounded like a date!

"F-Fine," I sputter, glaring at the two of them before stomping towards the door. "Keep working, I need to use the.. restroom."

Was I lying? Definitely.

I excused myself from the studio, hastily scurrying out of the building and inhaling the outdoorsy environment as if I was starved of freedom for the longest time. Anxiety was pivoting within my body, becoming too much to cope with. I despised Slash for continuously finding some way to get to me, to squeeze himself through the barrier I enforced out of desperation to keep him in the band. But another part of me was drawn to him with an undeniable extent of admiration. What would Guns N' Roses be without him?

A gentle scoff erupted me from my overzealous thoughts. I snapped my head around to meet the concerned gaze of Matt, who fiddled with the cigarette between his fingers as he cautiously approached me.

"When I said 'leave', I didn't mean leave the entire building," I declare, rolling my eyes at him. He smiled sweetly and shrugged his shoulders.

"I like it out here."

I look over him, noticing the golden color of his untamed hair, and the arrangement of tattoos scattered across his arms with such detail and perfection. He casually brought the cigarette to his lips, taking a long drag out of it before exhaling slowly. I growled at him.

"Give me that," I order, and he quickly passes me his own cigarette, watching in amusement as I stuck it between my own lips and instantly allowed the nicotine to succumb my body, immediately alleviating the emotions causing a tantrum within me.

"Everything alright, Axl?" He asked, hesitance in his voice, yet a sympathetic expression on his face.

"No, does it look like everything is alright?" I mock, and his cheeks flush red— a sheepish reaction, needless to admit.

"I'm sorry, I—"

"No, I'm sorry," I huff out, watching as the smoke floats between us before dispersing with the wind. "In fact, I'm not alright. Everything isn't alright, and I don't know what to do about it."

I felt weak for venting, but Matt seemed to understand my reluctance. He carefully rested a hand on my shoulder, rubbing circles into my back and nodding his head in consideration. Just like Slash did.

"Hey man, it's gonna be alright. Just go with the flow, allow things to happen and you'll get through them all," he spoke with zen, as if he studied philosophy for the longest time and entered the band in hopes of passing on his wisdom. A farfetched assumption, but to be fair, I didn't know anything about the man.

How would I 'allow things to happen'? Did that mean I have to confront Slash? Did that mean I have to somehow conceal my discontent and continue on the band without Izzy and Steven? What would any of that lead to?

Before my panic could arise again, Matt spoke once more.

"Don't overthink it now. Just let things happen, man." With that, he turned on his heel and reentered the building, leaving me to ponder his compassionate guidance.

What the hell was I gonna do?

•.•.•

A/N

I hope you guys like Matt, I think he's pretty chill.
I'm still unsure if I want to touch on Axl's connection with other band members, like I did in this chapter with Matt— such as including more on his friendship with Duff, or with—uh, what other band member is left? I'll maybe initiate Steven back into the plot, as like a recurring person because he's such a sweetheart, but idk for sure.

But anyways, I hope you enjoyed, and if you did, please vote or leave feedback.

Much love <3