Buttered Popcorn

Chapter 12: April 18, 1987

"Alright, I guess this is it."

Duff sighed while pulling me into his arms, easily wrapping himself around me. I chuckled a little, trying to hide my pain that they were actually leaving, "Don't say it like that, Sasquatch. You make it seem like we're never going to see each other again."

"You're right. Until further notice, Jimi Hendrix. I love ya', kiddo." He rubbed his knuckles against my head harshly while I squirmed and giggled, "Alright, alright! Jesus, dude, you tryna start a fire or something?"

He eventually released himself from and allowed me to bid my farewells to the other members. "'Till next time, Jimbo." Axl brought me into a hug as well, swaying slightly as we took a few deep breaths and soon separated before he kissed my cheek. "Don't forget about me, Waxl. I know you'll have the ladies swooning." I said dramatically, causing his lips to crack a smirk. "Yeah, yeah."

Slash soon stood before me, giving me a sad smile. Within a second, he swiftly slipped off the shirt that he was wearing that read 'Life sucks then you die'. He held the now-crumpled tank top out to me with a childish smile, "Here."

I took it, returning the same stupid smile, "Thanks, dude. Don't let any of these dumb groupies change you, dude. I'll probably have to kick your ass if that happens." I warned. "I could never let that happen. I'll call, and you better answer." His shirtless body engulfed my own in an embrace for a few seconds, enjoying each other's last moments together for a while.

"Alright, alright, my turn." Izzy shoved aside Slash, who only groaned. "Enjoy those vinyls I gave you all that time ago, yeah? I spent good money on those." he mumbled in my ear while we hugged. I chuckled a little, muttering back, "Of course. I'll think of you when I'm dancing around naked to the Hendrix record."

"Oh, even better." he smirked while pulling away, causing us to laugh. After all the boys loaded onto the bus along with their stuff, I was left with Steven. "This fucking bites, dude." he mumbled, looking at the ground sorrowfully.

"Yeah, let's make this goodbye the best one though, yeah?" I brought his face into my hands and tilted his head to look at me. His eyes landed on the guitar pick necklace he gave me, the one I always wear. His fingers caressed the metal softly, gently. Without missing a beat, he pulled my face in close and kissed me. His lips moved along with mine, like we did on New Year's. It was filled with feeling. With emotion.

He was hungry for it, I could tell, but it was slow and passionate. I wanted to remember this for as long as I could. I stayed in the moments, trying to memorize how his lips felt on mine. Trying to retain the way his soft lips moved. Breathing in his cologne and cigarettes, he was somehow more intoxicating than the first time.

Reluctantly, we pulled away and stared at each other with disbelief and slight shock. "Please don't die, honey." With that, he disappeared into the bus and it took off. The boys all waved wildly out of the window as it drove off down the road. I saluted them back, soon retreating into the apartment that was eerily empty and quiet.

I stared at the couch; the place where the boys would usually sit around and bicker with each other. The place still smelled of cigarettes and cologne, tinged with the scent of sweat. Glancing to the kitchen that was empty, I bit my lip softly. That's where Duff and I would drink until we couldn't stand straight. Where Slash would stand on his tip-toes and curse to himself to reach the bottle of Jack that Duff had purposely placed on the highest shelf.

The mattresses were covered in sheets that weren't put on all the way and stained pillows without cases. Izzy's burnt cigarette butts were stubbed out on the wall and windowsill. Slash and Duff's empty alcohol bottles were scattered across the room. Steven had a bag of coke in the fridge that was now empty, the small plastic sitting beside an unoccupied take out box. Axl kept his hair products in the restroom and there was still clipping of hair from them shaving their faces in the sink.

I had only brought my clothes and a few sentiments in the trash bags, so I couldn't exactly 'make this place feel like home'. As of now, the best I could do was follow Izzy's instructions and make good use of the records he gifted me. I pulled them out and rummaged through the closet where Izzy had once told me he had a record player stored away somewhere.

Eventually finding it, I set it up and delicately placed the needle onto the Hendrix vinyl. I shoved a mattress on top on another, doubling them up, and threw myself onto them. Inhaling and exhaling repeatedly, I closed my eyes and let the music fill the space around me.

Waiting for them to come back, just when they had left.