Buttered Popcorn

Chapter 5: November 28, 1986

The call with my dad went well. He completely understood and gave Les and I this whole long speech about how much he loved us and made sure to be safe. Of course, she cried. We both had to take off work to see the boys which is where we were on our way to.

"Do I look okay?" My eyebrows furrowed, "What?" "Y'know, my outfit. Do I look alright?" She dusted off her top and ran her fingers through her hair a bit. If I knew anything about Les, it was that she was confident and never doubted herself for a second. Why was now any different?

"Yes, Les. You look great." I assured, nodding. "Okay, cool. I just want to look presentable for them." I looked over to her with a smirk, "Anyone specific?" "Not yet. Maybe I'll see who my favorite is tonight."

I recognized which it was from the last party as we pulled up to the apartment and we both walked up to the door- only this time, it didn't have drunk idiots and people throwing up on the bushes. Les knocked excitedly and bounced in place with a big smile while I leaned against the doorframe patting down my pockets. "Shit, I don't have any weed." I mumbled. "I'm sure they'll have some. Plus, can't you spend one day without it? Have fun while you're sober, Jimmie. It's good for you."

The door swung open and Duff towered over us, greeting Les and I each with a hug and a big smile before stepping aside and letting us in. "Hey! Glad you guys could make it. Steve was totally psyched. Along with the rest of us, of course."

"Jimmie!" Speak of the devil. "I'm so happy you're here!" Steven bounded over and embraced me in one of the tightest hugs I've probably ever experienced. "Holy Christ, okay, Steve. You're going to shatter my spine." I managed to pry him off of me and the rest of the band greeted Les and I.

"Hey, Jimbo. Good to see you." Axl nudged my arm. "The hell did you call me?" I chuckled. Instead of answering, he laughed along with me and sent me a wink before Izzy greeted me. He nodded at me while puffing out smoke from a cigarette, so I did the same.

"Good to see you again, Jimmie." He spoke with a cocky grin across his lips. "You too, Dash." "It's Slash, fucker." he groaned, rolling his eyes. "So, what's the plan?" Les asked the boys, who all exchanged awkward glances.

"Well, we didn't think you guys would actually show. We don't really have a plan." Duff chuckled. "I literally called Steven and told him that we'd be here." I stated, glancing over to Steve who chuckled awkwardly. "Yeah.. I though you were just saying that to get my hopes up." he blushed, looking down at the ground and scratching his neck.

Get his hopes up?

"Well, we're here now." Les shrugged. "Fuck, I'm starving." Slash whined, going to the kitchen and swinging open cabinet doors for food. "We don't have food, fuckwit. We need to go get some. It's Thanksgiving," Duff stated, rolling his eyes, "Sorry, he's drunk." "So are you, dude." Steven added.

"I see an ongoing theme here." I muttered to Les, to which she snickered. "Let's go get food, then. I'll drive." I swung the ring of my keys around my finger and began making my way to the door. "Hell no, I'm not riding with you." Slash said. "I didn't invite you, nor did I say you had to go, idiot." I bit back.

"Yeah, Jimmie doesn't have to go. Plus, it'll be pretty cramped if we all try to fit in the car. Axl, how 'bout you go get the food? Les, Slash, Izzy and Duff will join you." Steven jumped in quickly, guiding his band mates to the door. "Dude, that just leaves you and Jimmie." Izzy pointed out.

"You just wanted Jimbo all to yourself, dude." Axl chuckled. "No I don't!" Steven's cheeks grew red once again. "Then I'll stay. Izzy will too. Since you don't want Jimmie to yourself." Duff winked at Steven, knowing he was beginning to piss his friend off. "Yeah, whatever." Steve muttered, sulking over to the couch.

"Alright, we're out." Slash announced before shutting the door behind him and they left. "Aw, don't get all moody now, Popcorn. We can still have a good ol' time." Duff slung an arm around the drummer's shoulders. "Get bent, dude." his band mate muttered back.

They continued to bicker back and forth, I eventually tuned them out. "Wanna go smoke?" Izzy proposed. "I don't use cigarettes." "I wasn't talking about tobacco." I smiled at his offer, glancing over to the blonds on the couch before slipping into the band's shared room.

"Are they gonna care if we smoke in here?" Izzy shrugged, "Eh, it's whatever. I'll take the heat for it if they throw a tantrum." He pulled out a bag of weed from a box in his closet along with a pipe and lighter. The first bowl was packed within seconds, skillfully and quickly. Izzy held the glass out to me along with the lighter. I looked at him, "You get first hit. Your stuff, your turf."

"Nah," he shook his head, still holding it out, "Ladies first." I wasn't going to argue with that, "Nice to know chivalry isn't dead." Sparking the lighter a few times then holding the flame to the now burning herbs, I inhaled. I took another hit before I gave it back to him and he did the same.

"Woah, what's going on in here? You guys sparking up without us?" Steven craned his head through the door frame and Duff followed. "Thought it'd be easier to tolerate tonight." Izzy shrugged. I held the smoke in my lungs and held back a cough. The itch growing in my throat was damn near unbearable, but I kept my cool, soon exhaling.

"Heavy hit, dude." Duff nodded, taking the pipe from me. Soon enough, we were all sky high and laughing at nothing.

"No! No- I'm just saying, who the fuck invented socks? Like.. who thought of the outline for a sock shape? It's all weird and wonky and shit- look!" Steve held up his foot after a laughing fit as we all observed his sock.

"Shit, he's right. Who the hell made that?" Izzy mumbled, squinting at the sock. "Fuck if I know, man. I'm just happy I got something to wear on my feet when they get cold," Duff snorted while wiggling his toes, "Let's take shots!"

We all mutually agreed to get drunk before they got back with the food, which had been over an hour now, and made our way to the kitchen. Stevie whooped and hollered alongside Duff once he got down the bottles of alcohol.

"Party time, fuckers!"