Buttered Popcorn

Chapter 8.5: February 19, 1987

"Honey, I'm home!"

The door swung open and in waltzed Steve and Izzy. "Oh shit. I didn't actually expect anyone to be here." Steven chuckled, jumping into a seat beside me on the couch where I was mindlessly drawing.

"What'cha doing here, Jimmie?" Izzy mumbled, joining his band mate on the opposite side of me. "The rest of the boys left to a bar." I stated simply. "You didn't go with them?" the blond beside me asked curiously.

"They were pissing me off and wouldn't drop it, so I just stayed and waited for you guys to come back. Are you busy right now?" Izzy shook his head before he spoke again, "What'd they do this time?"

"Saying dumb shit," I rolled my eyes, "It's fine, though. Whatever. Let's do something, I'm bored out of my mind." I looked to each of the boys who just shrugged. "Like what?" Izzy asked. "Man, I'm itching for some spaghetti right now." Steve gave his friend a weird look, one clearly insinuating something that wasn't pasta.

"Go ahead, dude. It's in the fridge." Izzy nodded over to the kitchen before relaxing into the cushions. "I'll be back." He hopped off of the couch, rushing to the refrigerator then scurrying to his room and slamming the door. "He's a weird dude." I muttered, wondering why he was so eager for 'spaghetti'. "The guy's got a thing for Italian." Izzy shrugged.

"How's the record coming?" I heard something about the boys getting signed, but I still wasn't sure what the whole thing was about. I knew they were a band, obviously, but had never really gone to any of their gigs. Apparently since getting a record deal, they were starting to get a hell of a lot more recognition.

"Alright, I guess. It's still pretty new to us but the studio's really nice. The guy is pretty cool, too. Alan Niven." he nodded, fishing his pockets for a cigarette. "Any trouble?" I asked.

"Mm, not anything out of the usual. Axl will get too mad or Steven with get too high or Slash and Duff will get too drunk. It's the same every time, it gets old really quick." he sighed. After finding a lighter and taking a few puffs he turned back to me, "Say, you should come 'round. To a gig or the studio, whichever. I think it'd be cool having you there."

"Yeah? I dunno, Axl's been a real pain lately. With all the Les drama, not to mention it's exhausting having to deal with his damn temper tantrums." "Who you tellin'?" Izzy chuckled, "I've been hangin' around the dude since junior high. He can be tough to handle but he's alright when he's not raging like a bull. I'm sure the guys would like having you there, anyway. You've never even seen us play besides messin' around in the apartment."

"I'll probably swing around. Just tell me when." He nodded just as Steven returned, looking more alive than he had before. "Hey! We leavin' or what? I ain't got all day!"

I glanced at Izzy with slightly furrowed eyebrows and a questioning gaze. He caught it, but only subtly shook his head to not question it. I took the hint, turning back to Steve, "Yeah, let's go. You comin' Iz?"

He got up without a word and followed us out. As we walked down the street with Steven leading the way, he sang a tune quite loudly.

'Roll, roll, roll it up
Twist it at the end
Spark it up and get fucked up
Pass it to a friend'

"Is that an original?" I joked to Izzy who chuckled softly. "Y'know how I said he liked Italian?" I nodded as he kept talking, "He calls his blow 'spaghetti'. It's kind of an inside joke with the band."

"Oh.. cool." I said, nodding while watching Steven bounce around ahead of us, "Is it a good idea to let him lead the way?"

"Mmm.. probably not." "Alright." I shrugged, neither of us bothering to say anything to him. Eventually, after a few blocks and endless songs being sung by the one and only Steven Adler, we stopped in front of a bar.