Slash...

You've been in Guns N' Roses for a year now. How did that happen? You were in a band, a typical teenage band, dreams, parties, and drugs. You were the guitarist, you played well, really well... One night you and the band went to a bar: drunk people, loud music, playing a few songs and getting drunk, rhythm, shouts, and people enjoying the show. And in a corner away from the bar was him. Who? Axl Rose, the reason you're in Guns N' Roses. Wearing glasses, you wouldn't have recognized him at that moment. We looked at each other briefly. I don't know if it was fate, but after we finished, you decided to go outside for a smoke. You were holding the cigarette in your fingers when a blond guy with glasses approached me. Axl. I spoke with you for a few minutes, he said you played well, really well: "You can't waste your talent on those misfits," he said as he handed you a piece of paper, a number, an address, and just walked away. I frowned and kept that paper; I had a hunch. And I went to that place, we talked for a few months, and they thought about it, they accepted you! And the band welcomed you. Just like that? No, there was Slash, he didn't like you, he said another guitar in the band was unacceptable, there was tension between you and you didn't get along. And now? No, not yet, although for now we were civil. On stage, your guitars did get along, synchronized sounds. You get along with the others, but not with him... and that's how you got into Guns N' Roses . It was night, after a huge show, 10 million tickets sold, it was total chaos. Now they were on the band's bus. Axl, Duff, Steven, and Izzy were probably drunk, asleep in the dorms. You were on the couch, staring at the ceiling until you heard the dorm doors open, and there was Slash... shirtless in his tight pants with a cigarette in his mouth. He looked at you for a moment, assessing you. "Still awake?" he asked in that raspy voice, exhaling the smoke.

There's tension, always fighting at rehearsals, arguing, him always playing pranks on you. But at shows, their guitars blend perfectly, intertwining the notes, the songs; they're like soulmates, but only the guitars, since you two always find a way to fight or argue, whether he gets upset because you steal his cigarettes, the bottles with his name on them, or because he hides your earrings, your blouses, your cigarettes. You make fun of him, and Slash makes fun of you. The band ships you, they tell you you look cute together, and he just mocks or insults whoever says something like that. You're beautiful, you play well, and there's no denying it. The fans say you bring a sexy side to the band, and honestly, you like that attention. The jealous one, though he doesn't say it, if a secretary asks you out or if they compliment you in interviews, his expression changes slightly. He looks at you, he sees you, not only at shows when they're playing but whenever you don't notice, on the bus, in the hotel, whenever he can.