ʙᴀᴅ ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴇʟᴇᴠᴇɴ☆

A/N; trigger warning - mentions of drug use

The atmosphere was buzzing, the drinks were flowing, the music was blaring. Everyone was having a good time, yourself included.

Yet another show had gone off without any issues, so that always put everybody in a good mood, and the party only seemed to raise those spirits higher.

People must've heard beforehand that Guns were due to be there, because you'd never seen so many girls turn up to a party before.

They were practically throwing themselves at the guys, which they all loved of course. You couldn't help but notice Izzy's reluctance to talk to any of them, but he wasn't always in the mood for groupies, so you shrugged off his manner.

The guys had been clean of drugs for quite some time now, a decision they'd all come to when it had started impacting their shows and studio time, and you'd gladly assisted them in getting over them.

But these groupies, they seemed to have brought a ton with them, everywhere you looked you could see various people getting high or offering each other whichever drugs they'd brought with them.

You weren't too worried, the guys were used to the temptation, and they knew the consequences of getting involved with that stuff again, so they generally stayed clear of it all.

Throughout the night, Izzy had kept his eye on you, unbeknownst to you. You were playing on his mind, and he was trying really fucking hard for you to not be.

So when a pretty groupie who had something about her, maybe it was the fact her hair was practically the same as yours, began trying it on with him, he couldn't help but go along with it. His idea of fucking someone until you were out of his thoughts seemed to work every so often, why wouldn't it now?

He followed her outside, it was quiet and dark, a bit of a chill in the air. She'd latched on to his lips, desperately trying to score before he could even think of rejecting her advances.

And he kissed back, he went along with it, up until the point of her hand finding its way over his crotch. That's when he stiffened and pulled away, he couldn't explain why, but he was suddenly vividly aware that she wasn't you.

"Don't be like that," her sickly sweet tone of voice tried reasoning with him, a pout on her lips.

He shook his head, he couldn't do it, no matter how much his mind had wanted to. He knew he wouldn't be able to get hard, he knew his mind would be preoccupied the entire time, there was no use in trying.

When she waved drugs in front of him, telling him it would help him relax, his mouth ran dry. He envied the rest of the band, they'd gotten so used to saying no that it was like second nature to them, yet here he was. Debating it.

He'd frozen as he thought it over, they would definitely help him relax. Hell, he'd probably even be able to fuck her senseless if he took them, plus he'd never quite forgotten the unmistakable high they always put him on.

But when you came outside, somewhat curious as to where he'd gone, although you played it off as getting some fresh air, he was like a deer in the headlights.

You glanced between the groupie, and the bag that was now open and in his hand. Disappointment didn't explain how you felt, you couldn't have put your feelings into words. He would've taken them if you hadn't come out.

"Get back inside," he'd told her, shoving her drugs back into her hands and watching her huff as she left.

Then silence sat thick and strong between you, neither of you saying a word to the other for quite some time. You didn't know what to say to him, but you were desperately trying to think of something.

"I wouldn't have actually done it."

"I don't think either of us believe that, Iz," you mumbled, noting the pained expression on his face upon hearing that.

He bowed his head, partially in shame but also in an attempt to mask the emotions he was fighting. The anger he felt towards himself for being so weak, or that was at least what he'd thought anyway, left a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach as he glanced around at the dimly lit street ahead of him.

"Have you...have you done-"

"No, not since the last time."

Okay, so he hadn't actually successfully taken anything, that was a good sign. You studied his features, the moonlight contouring and illuminating his pale face as he stared off into the distance.

"I gotta go."

Then he was off, almost sprinting in the direction of the hotel. You watched him, a sinking feeling in your stomach, you knew something was up and you wanted nothing more than to follow him.

You decided to head back into the party, notifying Axl that you were heading back to the hotel so he could tell Duff, then you jogged your way towards where Izzy had ran off to.

"Iz?" you called when you'd got outside his room, noting his door was left open.

You hesitantly made your way inside, the sight you were greeted with was something you never thought you'd see.

Izzy was leaning against the wall, face covered by his arms and body shaking ever so slightly. You frowned and stepped forward, closing his door behind you.

"Izzy?"

His head snapped towards you, and you could suddenly see a thousand emotions plastered across his face, emotions you never thought he'd show. But in his moment of weakness, he found it impossible to mask over.

"Hey, it's alright, nothing happened," you tried reassuring him, stepping close enough to place a hand on his back.

"Nothing yet, what about next time? Y/N, I don't know how they do it, how they resist them so easily. I can't fucking do it, I'm gonna end up a junkie for the rest of my life," his words came out rushed, his forehead pressing against the wall as he spoke.

"Look how well you've done so far, don't discredit yourself," you reasoned, the hand on his back rubbing slow circles.

He groaned in frustration, pushing himself away from the wall and lightly punching it as he moved to sit on the edge of his bed.

"Why did you come?" he asked, genuine curiosity in his voice, aside from the pain you could hear.

"Because I care about you," you stated simply, crouching down in front of him and holding his wrists in your hands, "Izzy, I'm so proud of how far you've come, you should be too."

"Why? I'm only delaying my inevitable overdose, I'm too weak minded to stay sober."

You frowned, his eyes didn't quite meet yours as he spoke, that sinking feeling in your stomach was returning the longer you stared at him.

"I believe in you, I don't think that at all. And I'm here for you, whatever you need. There's nothing weak about you, you're the furthest thing from it."

"Furthest thing?" he scoffed, gaze snapping to you, "I can't even keep you off of my mind, nevermind the drugs," he froze once he'd spoken, clearly not meaning to say what he was thinking.

You didn't know what to say back, you were stunned at the revelation, he sighed and looked away again.

"Just...let me help you, please? If you start feeling the need to...you know...just come and see me, I can distract you," you were rambling slightly but you'd put your point across.

"How are you going to do that?"

It was as if you'd lost control of yourself, you hadn't noticed what you were doing until your face was inches from his.