His slick, black greasy hair hung long down over his eyes like a tortured drug dealer in the streets of LA. His dark, daring brown eyes stared at me like he was a predator ready to pounce. His nose ring and his biting of his lip seemed like he was growling on the inside, just ready to attack.
He was wearing a leather jacket with the first two buttons of his undershirt undone, exposing part of his chest. He pulled out a cigarette from his jacket pocket and lit it up, putting it to his mouth and taking a long, wispy drag.
And that was the first time I made eye contact with Izzy Stradlin.
--
(2 hours earlier)
It was a cold rainy day in Seattle as the water came down from the sky in buckets. The streets were crawling with camera men, teenage girls, and policemen as Guns N' Roses prepared to play a show on their Appetite For Destruction tour. The year is 1988 and this band is the hottest thing right now.
However, I'm not a fan.
My name is Michelle and my best friend, Mandy, is in love with this band. She coos over every member and is dragging me to the show tonight. I don't know why I agreed; maybe because it'll get me out of the house for a night, or because I love her to death and I want to make her happy and go with her.
Mandy and I have been standing outside of the giant stadium in which they were playing for about an hour now. We're both wearing jackets and skinny jeans with beat up converse on. We were way back in line; there were about two thousand people in front of us and we were probably going to be in the back of the crowd. I didn't care anyways, what's with stupid shows like these? Knowing my best friend, she'll probably run around the crowd and complain about being pushed. But for me, see, I don't care. I push my way through those motherfuckers and if I get knocked in the head every once in a while, I'll probably punch the pussy in the face.
I shook my head and pulled out a pack of Marlboros from my back pocket, taking one out of the new package and lighting it up. Taking a few drags, I breathed the smoke out of my nose and waited for the doors to open.
All of a sudden we could hear a loud rush of screaming teenage fangirls. I rolled my eyes and took another drag from my cigarette. This was going to be fun.
The line started to slowly move and after a good twenty minutes, we finally made it to the front. Mandy gave our tickets to the worker at the booth and he gave us a go to go in. I followed her lead into the crowd as I saw the frown come on her face because the show had already started. It wasn't my fault that we showed up an hour before the show had started.
The openers, Poison, were playing and Mandy was freaking the fuck out. I raised an eyebrow at her. She continued to dance around in the crowd. I looked up at the stage filled with makeup wearing pussies. I hated glam metal.
I rolled my eyes and turned towards her. "I'm going to the bathroom." I said loud enough for her to hear.
She gave me a confused look but then shrugged, and I walked off. I wasn't going to the bathroom, I just didn't want to listen to glam metal faggots play for twenty minutes.
I wandered around the venue for a while before finally spotting the bar. It was attached off of the building, with doors that led into the darkly lit room. I slowly wandered up to the doors, and the security guard shot me a look.
"How old are you?" He said, crossing his arms.
I rolled my eyes, just wanting to get in already. I pulled out my wallet from my back pocket and reached for my ID. "I'm twenty-three years old." I shot him my ID and he opened the door for me.
I walked in to the darkly lit room, music blaring through my ears. I winced at the sound of Mötley Crüe's "Girls, Girls, Girls" pounding into my ears. It made me cringe.
I walked over to the bar which was even more darkly lit. I could barely see a thing, and I could barely hear considering the loud sound blaring through my small ears.
I sat down on a bar stool and ordered a beer. The bartender nodded and handed me one, and I took a sip once he handed it from me. You know, it wasn't much better in here than it was in the venue. I hated this shitty music.
Standing up from the stool, I walked over to the jukebox machine in the corner of the room. I could see the lineup of the songs on the screen; the next song would be Aerosmith's 'Dream On', and the one following would be the famous 'Sweet Child O' Mine', the biggest single on the radio right now.
I rolled my eyes and popped a dollar out of my pocket, inserting it into the machine. It gave me a list of popular songs to choose from, but I ignored them and went into the search. I put on my favorite Stones song, 'Paint it Black'. The song blared through the speakers and I gave a small grin, taking another swig from my beer and returning back to my seat at the bar.
But someone had replaced my seat. I couldn't quite make out who it was; the room was way too dark to let me see anything too well. I could see that it was a man with long black hair, smoking a cigarette, tapping his foot to the song.
I rolled my eyes and walked a few seats down, taking a different seat. I took a few more sips of my beer and looked to my right. The man in the dark was
staring at me. I could see a bit of his face now.
He had full, pouty lips and warm chocolate brown eyes. He had a bony face and was smoking a joint. His slick, black greasy hair hung long down over his
eyes like a tortured drug dealer in the streets of LA. His dark, daring brown eyes stared at me like he was a predator ready to pounce. His nose ring and his biting of his lip seemed like he was growling on the inside, just ready to attack.
He was wearing a leather jacket with the first two buttons of his undershirt undone, exposing part of his chest. He pulled out a cigarette from his jacket pocket and lit it up, putting it to his mouth and taking a long, wispy drag.
I quickly looked away from him and took another sip from my beer. I tried to set my mind to something else, like when I was going to get back to the show. I hope Mandy was doing okay in that tough crowd, and hopefully not getting hurt.
I could feel the man's eyes beating down on me again, like I was about to get raped or something. I had never been in a situation where someone so mysterious was glaring at me. I was tempted to turn around to ask what his problem was, but his eyes weren't gazed on me anymore.
"Dude, it's showtime." A tall blonde man appeared next to him, grabbing his arm. The man nodded and they both quickly left the bar.
I raised my eyebrow and thought they were fans wanting to get back to their seats. Since the taller guy said it was showtime, I quickly finished my beer and hopped out of my seat, quickly walking out of the bar and back into the venue.
I pushed my way past people until I saw Mandy, still at the back of the crowd. I walked up to her as she was in tears. The lights dimmed and five figures walked out on stage, when the infamous notes of 'Paradise City' blared throughout the whole place.
The crowd roared and lights shot on. I could barely see the stage for a few minutes, the lights were going crazy. But then I could see everyone.
I looked at the right of the stage and saw the familiar blonde man from the bar standing, playing the bass, running around the stage. My eyes followed him as he ran across to the other side of the stage, where I saw another familiar face. It was the guy from the bar, standing with an old classic gibson.
I turned towards Mandy. "What's the guitarist's name? The one with the white guitar?" I asked her loudly, so she could hear me over the crowd.
She grinned. "Oh, that's Izzy!" She yelled, returning her gaze back to the stage, singing every lyric to the song.
Izzy, eh?
