Categories > Celebrities > Guns n' Roses > His Master's Voice
Chapter 2
2 ReviewsWherein "Jay" gets his revenge.
Yes, Axl had known why. He'd known that sooner or later, his punching bag from Indiana was going to up and leave. And now it looked like Axl was trying to lure him back.
Tom pushed the flat-screen monitor round for Jay to look at. Displayed on the screen was page after page of appeals from Axl. Pleas for Izzy to come home, bribes of money to anyone who provided information that led to him returning home. And each one featured a recent photograph.
According to the reports, he'd been spotted everywhere from Los Angeles to London to Bangkok. Not one person was even close to finding him. Except for Tom.
"I'm not gonna rat you out," Tom quietly said, breaking the computer's hold over Jay. "I believe you."
Swallowing, Jay looked at the young man and gave him a weak smile. "Thanks. Appreciate it."
December 23rd was less than a day away and everyone who was anyone was scheduled to work. Even Jay. After his shaky confession to Tom, the sales assistant had stormed off to the management. Jay had listened in while Tom had given them a potted history of Jay's involvement with Axl. But, as the management had already said, Jay would receive no special privileges. He was going to work December 23rd whether he wanted to or not. For nearly an hour, the arguing had gone back and forth, both parties standing their ground. Finally, whoever Tom had been arguing with, caved. He and Jay would be working in the bowels of the store, as far away from Axl as possible. As always, there was a /but/. If they were needed on the shop floor, for whatever reason, then they had to be there. No questions asked.
~~~~
He'd fought back, clawed and punched and lashed out at Axl numerous times. But none of it seemed to stop the freight train that was an Axl Rose temper tantrum. He'd still come at Izzy, all guns blazing. No matter how good a fight he put up, Axl still had him on his knees, crying like a child.
The shame of it burnt deep into Izzy's soul. Scarred and maimed him. Even now that they were older, and supposedly wiser, he still flinched whenever Axl raised his hand.
~~~~
The day eased into dusk and, like a condemned man, Jay feverishly watched the clock. Lying on Tom's bed, he'd stared at the LCD numbers that were projected onto the ceiling. 20.38. Tick-tock-tick-tock. 21.19. Tick-tock-tick-tock. 21.49.
"Jay." He turned his head and looked at Tom. "It's time."
Nodding, he weakly slid from the bed and stood, shaking slightly as he did. He slid the black promotional t-shirt over his head, shivering as it slid against his skin. Why wasn't he running? Why wasn't he on the way to the nearest airport? Because you want to watch, don't you?
Silently they walked to the store, Tom chain smoking and Jay re-playing his past life over and over in his mind. Yet again, there seemed to be no escape, no door for him to open and leave through. Yet again, everything seemed to be catching up with him in ways he'd never imagined they would.
A queue had already begun to form outside of the store. Tom grasped at Jay's coat, pulling him down a concrete ramp and into the shopping mall's underground parking lot. A loading bay door was nearly hidden from view and the quick pressing of a keypad ensured that they weren't seen. They were never going to be seen tonight. Rabid fans was the last thing Jay needed on this crisp, Christmas night. The last thing next to Axl...
A security guard stood beyond the door, strings of laminates around his wrist. Silently he checked their names against a list before checking the photos on the ID's. The black suited man raised an eyebrow at Jay before passing him the plastic covered piece of card. Without looking at him, Jay draped it around his neck, a lump forming in his throat as it swung against his chest. It was odd wearing one again, a reminder of what had been.
Walking into the dingy stockroom, Jay let out a sigh of relief as the door locked shut behind them. He leaned against it, eyes closed for a moment before the sultry smell of whiskey dared him to open them.
A bottle was JD was being wafted under his nose, Tom's blue eyes curiously peering over the top of it.
"I know you don't drink any more, but I thought..." his voice trailed and died as he smiled weakly.
Taking a deep breath, Jay nodded and wrapped his fingers around the cool glass. Wrapping his lips around the head of the bottle, he closed his eyes and threw his head back. The liquor burned as it slid into his stomach, warming his belly and bringing tears to his eyes. He coughed as the blood rushed to his cheeks, the bottle held out in front of him. Quickly it was taken from him and he heard Tom take a deep drink, the liquid bubbling from the bottle.
He wiped the tears from his eyes and took a deep breath as he straightened up. The bottle clinked as Tom placed on the concrete floor, picking up a box and handing it to Jay.
He smiled and winked, picking up a box for himself. "Let's do it."
For the next hour, they loaded a dumb waiter with box after box of the world's most awaited CD. The square bottle of booze was passed back and forth, a familiar woozy feeling taking over Jay. He swayed and laughed as Tom sashayed around the room, swinging his hips and flipping his hair in a mocking caricature of Axl. Roaring with laughter, Jay leaned against the wall, barely able to hold himself upright as tears streaming down his cheeks.
The loading bay door clanged shut and both men stopped, eyes trailing to the stockroom door as voices began to filter in. Placing a finger to his lips, Tom crept to the door and cracked it open. Standing behind him, they both peered out through the sliver of door. The shops managers and a crowd of people that Jay vaguely recognised walked past. In the middle of them, cornrows tied into his neck and dressed in a natty white suit, was Axl. The store's managers, laminates swinging from their necks, were all but on their knees and kissing his feet, sickening words of worship flowing from their mouths.
"Geez," Tom hissed. "You'd have thought this was the second coming of Christ."
Jay peered over the top of the shaggy head of hair. "Yeah..."
Almost instinctively, Axl looked in the direction of the door, green eyes narrowing as Tom quickly slammed the door.
Panting, he leaned against it, eyes as wide as Jay knew his were.
"Do you think...?" Jay whispered, goosebumps covering his skin as he shivered.
"I don't think so." Tom lifted the bottle of JD to his lips and swigged.
Shuddering, he shook the nearly empty bottle at Jay. Jay nearly snatched the bottle from his fingers, draining the last of the whiskey. He coughed, throwing the bottle into a nearby bin as he pulled himself onto a box. Resting his head in his hands, Jay shuddered.
"Can't fuckin' believe it," he whispered. He shook his head and sighed, looking back to Tom. "Can't believe he finally released the fucker."
"I know." Tom swept a handful of hair from his eyes and looked at him. "Is your name on there anywhere?"
"I highly doubt." Jay's eyes dropped to the floor.
No, he'd been ostracised from Axl's inner circle the day he'd left and hadn't been accepted back until recently.
Music began to thump from overhead, both men looking towards the ceiling. The show had begun.
~~~~
The last time Axl had raised his hand to Izzy had been shortly after a show. Ironically, it had been in England, after a show at Donnington a few years previously. For some reason Axl was annoyed. It wasn't unusual, Izzy was used to seeing him storm around before or after a show, pissed off and ranting about something.
Izzy had grown to expect it. What he hadn't expected was for Axl to be in his face, screaming unintelligibly. With dead eyes, Izzy had crossed his arms, calmly watching him, never flinching as Axl's spittle spotted his face. Then the arm came up, Axl's hand flattened and something in Izzy snapped. Grabbing Axl's wrist, he'd twisted his arm behind him and threw him against a wall.
Anger flaring through him, he'd hissed, "Touch me one more fuckin' time, /Bailey/, and I will send you to the hell you deserve to be in."
He'd never given Axl a chance to reply as he'd stomped off, hissing and fuming to himself about how things never changed.
~~~~
Above the sound of the music, a phone began to trill. Snapping out of the spell that had been cast over them, Tom reached over and picked it up. A moment later, he sighed and shook his head. Jay felt his heart sink; he knew that was the call they'd been dreading.
Tom looked at him and bit his lip. "I'm sorry, dude, I really am." Reaching out, he placed a hand on Jay's shoulder. "It's gonna be all right. I've got your back."
Nodding, Jay sighed and pushed himself off the box and towards the door. It was time to face the music. Literally.
~~~~
For a few weeks following the show, Izzy had heard nothing from Axl. The phone had remained ominously quiet. He'd give it the evil eye as he walked past it, daring Axl to even think about calling him. But it never had. At least not for a while anyway.
Then the calls had begun again. Nothing was said about that event, although Izzy was sure there was a muttered apology buried deep in the first call. And then it had begun again. Izzy, can you do this. Izzy, can you come here. Izzy, jump when I tell you to.
Sure Axl, how high?
He'd gritted his teeth through the calls, putting up with them until that fateful day.
~~~~
Like gladiators on their way to battle, Jay and Tom headed up the bare steps and into the store. Music blared and camera flashes went off. People screamed and journalists jostled for the best positions. Jay found himself cowering in a corner, not wanting to step out. Through the throngs of people, he could see the long table where Axl was seated, smiling and answering questions as he scribbled on the covers of CD's.
Jay didn't have long to stare and take it all in before a suited, and slightly perspiring, manager stepped up to them.
"You two go stand behind Mr. Rose," he demanded. "The others on a break. Make sure no-one gets too close and personal, if you know what I mean."
Tom opened his mouth to protest but the manager just glared at him.
"I don't want to hear it Tom. Not now, not tonight."
He smiled weakly at Jay and shrugged. "Fuckin' jobs-worth. He's only justifying his fuckin' wage."
Jay returned the smile and placed a hand on Tom's shoulder. "It's gonna be okay. Honest." He shrugged, eyes saddening a little. "I can do this. It's time to face him anyway."
The smile on Tom's face widened. "You're a brave man, Mr. Stradlin, a brave fuckin' man." He held his hand to Jay. "And if this should be our last meeting, please know that you have my utmost respect."
Jay laughed and took Tom's hand, shaking it. "And if we get outta this alive, the first drinks are on me."
"You're on!" Tom let out a laugh before nudging Jay in the direction of the table. "Right, let's do it to him before he does it to us."
With a purposeful stride, they walked behind the table, all attempts to stop laughing failing. Whether it was nerves or the sheer stupidity of it, neither could stop the fits of giggles as the positioned themselves just behind Axl.
"Hey," Tom whispered, leaning over so Jay could hear him. "What's been with his wigger look?"
Covering his mouth, Jay giggled and bit his lip, shaking his head.
"I have no fuckin' idea," he quietly replied, unable to drag his gaze from the ponytail of braids. "No fuckin' idea."
They both caught the glare of the nearby manager. Trying to hide the smiles and laughter, they straightened up, assuming positions of authority as they draped their hands behind their backs.
Jay watched as people came and went, strangely elated that his nerves at being so close to his former master had disappeared. In fact, he was feeling almost high. He didn't know how much of it was the alcohol he'd consumed but he was loving the buzz. Here he was, standing so close and Axl was clueless that the man he'd been hunting for was mere inches behind him. He smiled to himself, letting out a low chuckle. He felt good, real good.
There was a lull as the CD changed track and Jay watched as a pretty young girl stopped to speak with Axl. Over the noise of chattering voices, he caught snippets of the conversation.
"... have you found..." The girl's eyes seemed to be filled with concern.
His brow furrowed as he watched Axl's shoulders tighten a little. Jay gritted his teeth as the next song kicked in and he leaned in, desperate to catch what was being said.
"Gone..." Axl hissed. "For fuckin' good... Don't fuckin' care... Worthless piece of shit..."
Jay looked up and caught the girl's look of terror. He could feel his heart thudding in his chest, terrified that she was hearing this and angry at Axl. After everything he'd said in interviews, everything about wanting Izzy to come back to the fold, and now he was badmouthing him to all and sundry.
Stepping forward, Jay bent forward and brushed his lips against Axl's ear.
"Looking for someone, motherfucker?" he hissed angrily.
In an instant, Axl was on his feet, eyes wide and nostrils flaring as he swung around. Jay stood, hands on his hips, glaring at him. He watched as Axl gasped, a hand coming to his mouth as he took in the man that stood before him. Black jeans, black t-shirt and a music store laminate that bore the name /Jay/. Brown hair that curled into the nap of his neck and brown eyes that were dark with anger.
"Izzy?" he meekly asked.
Izzy glared. "You got that fuckin' right."
Everything around them died, the music fading to nothing and the voices of fans quietening. Everyone was watching with baited breath. And Izzy didn't care. They needed to know.
"Why..." Axl's voice died as he dropped his gaze, unable to look at him any longer.
"Because you're a fuckin' cunt!" Izzy bawled.
The long suppressed rage stormed through Izzy as he carried on, "You know fuckin' why Bill. You know why I fuckin' dropped off the face of the planet. Because of you/." He carried on glaring, his hands balling into fists. "/YOU! The man who took me and tore me to pieces!" Axl shuddered before him and Izzy felt his heart swell with the sweetness of revenge. "You stole everything I gave you, didn't you, /Bill/? My work, my life, my love. You hid the real you behind a curtain of lies and deceit, didn't you? Pretended like you didn't care. Pretended that it was okay to leave me bleeding in the middle of the floor. And why? Because you couldn't admit to yourself what you really were, could you? You couldn't admit to yourself that you preferred sleeping with me than with all those pretty girls that chased after your sweet ass. Well, I was there first and that's what you fuckin' hated the most, wasn't it? That someone else had laid claim to before you had the chance to do it them."
Stepping forward, Izzy bunched his hand into the braids and yanked Axl's head back. Red-hot rage was still boiling through his veins as he stared into the saddened green eyes before him.
"You beat me for your own short-comings, didn't you?" Izzy's voice became lower, hoarse and flushed with hate. "You couldn't beat yourself up so you took it out on the one person who actually cared for you."
Pushing Axl away from him, Izzy let his eyes sweep up and down him, taking him in as he crossed his arms over his chest. Axl looked defeated and broken, his head hanging forward.
"You're pathetic Axl," he whispered, a hint of sadness creeping into his voice. "And you should be fuckin' ashamed of yourself."
Sighing, Izzy turned and stepped away from him. Looking straight ahead of himself, he headed for the door. He felt someone fall into step beside him and he gave a small smile as he looked at Tom.
"You owe me a drink, mate," the man whispered with a wink.
The crowds parted, silent as they watched him leave. Not a word was whispered, not one person stopped him.
And that was just the way he liked it.
Tom pushed the flat-screen monitor round for Jay to look at. Displayed on the screen was page after page of appeals from Axl. Pleas for Izzy to come home, bribes of money to anyone who provided information that led to him returning home. And each one featured a recent photograph.
According to the reports, he'd been spotted everywhere from Los Angeles to London to Bangkok. Not one person was even close to finding him. Except for Tom.
"I'm not gonna rat you out," Tom quietly said, breaking the computer's hold over Jay. "I believe you."
Swallowing, Jay looked at the young man and gave him a weak smile. "Thanks. Appreciate it."
December 23rd was less than a day away and everyone who was anyone was scheduled to work. Even Jay. After his shaky confession to Tom, the sales assistant had stormed off to the management. Jay had listened in while Tom had given them a potted history of Jay's involvement with Axl. But, as the management had already said, Jay would receive no special privileges. He was going to work December 23rd whether he wanted to or not. For nearly an hour, the arguing had gone back and forth, both parties standing their ground. Finally, whoever Tom had been arguing with, caved. He and Jay would be working in the bowels of the store, as far away from Axl as possible. As always, there was a /but/. If they were needed on the shop floor, for whatever reason, then they had to be there. No questions asked.
~~~~
He'd fought back, clawed and punched and lashed out at Axl numerous times. But none of it seemed to stop the freight train that was an Axl Rose temper tantrum. He'd still come at Izzy, all guns blazing. No matter how good a fight he put up, Axl still had him on his knees, crying like a child.
The shame of it burnt deep into Izzy's soul. Scarred and maimed him. Even now that they were older, and supposedly wiser, he still flinched whenever Axl raised his hand.
~~~~
The day eased into dusk and, like a condemned man, Jay feverishly watched the clock. Lying on Tom's bed, he'd stared at the LCD numbers that were projected onto the ceiling. 20.38. Tick-tock-tick-tock. 21.19. Tick-tock-tick-tock. 21.49.
"Jay." He turned his head and looked at Tom. "It's time."
Nodding, he weakly slid from the bed and stood, shaking slightly as he did. He slid the black promotional t-shirt over his head, shivering as it slid against his skin. Why wasn't he running? Why wasn't he on the way to the nearest airport? Because you want to watch, don't you?
Silently they walked to the store, Tom chain smoking and Jay re-playing his past life over and over in his mind. Yet again, there seemed to be no escape, no door for him to open and leave through. Yet again, everything seemed to be catching up with him in ways he'd never imagined they would.
A queue had already begun to form outside of the store. Tom grasped at Jay's coat, pulling him down a concrete ramp and into the shopping mall's underground parking lot. A loading bay door was nearly hidden from view and the quick pressing of a keypad ensured that they weren't seen. They were never going to be seen tonight. Rabid fans was the last thing Jay needed on this crisp, Christmas night. The last thing next to Axl...
A security guard stood beyond the door, strings of laminates around his wrist. Silently he checked their names against a list before checking the photos on the ID's. The black suited man raised an eyebrow at Jay before passing him the plastic covered piece of card. Without looking at him, Jay draped it around his neck, a lump forming in his throat as it swung against his chest. It was odd wearing one again, a reminder of what had been.
Walking into the dingy stockroom, Jay let out a sigh of relief as the door locked shut behind them. He leaned against it, eyes closed for a moment before the sultry smell of whiskey dared him to open them.
A bottle was JD was being wafted under his nose, Tom's blue eyes curiously peering over the top of it.
"I know you don't drink any more, but I thought..." his voice trailed and died as he smiled weakly.
Taking a deep breath, Jay nodded and wrapped his fingers around the cool glass. Wrapping his lips around the head of the bottle, he closed his eyes and threw his head back. The liquor burned as it slid into his stomach, warming his belly and bringing tears to his eyes. He coughed as the blood rushed to his cheeks, the bottle held out in front of him. Quickly it was taken from him and he heard Tom take a deep drink, the liquid bubbling from the bottle.
He wiped the tears from his eyes and took a deep breath as he straightened up. The bottle clinked as Tom placed on the concrete floor, picking up a box and handing it to Jay.
He smiled and winked, picking up a box for himself. "Let's do it."
For the next hour, they loaded a dumb waiter with box after box of the world's most awaited CD. The square bottle of booze was passed back and forth, a familiar woozy feeling taking over Jay. He swayed and laughed as Tom sashayed around the room, swinging his hips and flipping his hair in a mocking caricature of Axl. Roaring with laughter, Jay leaned against the wall, barely able to hold himself upright as tears streaming down his cheeks.
The loading bay door clanged shut and both men stopped, eyes trailing to the stockroom door as voices began to filter in. Placing a finger to his lips, Tom crept to the door and cracked it open. Standing behind him, they both peered out through the sliver of door. The shops managers and a crowd of people that Jay vaguely recognised walked past. In the middle of them, cornrows tied into his neck and dressed in a natty white suit, was Axl. The store's managers, laminates swinging from their necks, were all but on their knees and kissing his feet, sickening words of worship flowing from their mouths.
"Geez," Tom hissed. "You'd have thought this was the second coming of Christ."
Jay peered over the top of the shaggy head of hair. "Yeah..."
Almost instinctively, Axl looked in the direction of the door, green eyes narrowing as Tom quickly slammed the door.
Panting, he leaned against it, eyes as wide as Jay knew his were.
"Do you think...?" Jay whispered, goosebumps covering his skin as he shivered.
"I don't think so." Tom lifted the bottle of JD to his lips and swigged.
Shuddering, he shook the nearly empty bottle at Jay. Jay nearly snatched the bottle from his fingers, draining the last of the whiskey. He coughed, throwing the bottle into a nearby bin as he pulled himself onto a box. Resting his head in his hands, Jay shuddered.
"Can't fuckin' believe it," he whispered. He shook his head and sighed, looking back to Tom. "Can't believe he finally released the fucker."
"I know." Tom swept a handful of hair from his eyes and looked at him. "Is your name on there anywhere?"
"I highly doubt." Jay's eyes dropped to the floor.
No, he'd been ostracised from Axl's inner circle the day he'd left and hadn't been accepted back until recently.
Music began to thump from overhead, both men looking towards the ceiling. The show had begun.
~~~~
The last time Axl had raised his hand to Izzy had been shortly after a show. Ironically, it had been in England, after a show at Donnington a few years previously. For some reason Axl was annoyed. It wasn't unusual, Izzy was used to seeing him storm around before or after a show, pissed off and ranting about something.
Izzy had grown to expect it. What he hadn't expected was for Axl to be in his face, screaming unintelligibly. With dead eyes, Izzy had crossed his arms, calmly watching him, never flinching as Axl's spittle spotted his face. Then the arm came up, Axl's hand flattened and something in Izzy snapped. Grabbing Axl's wrist, he'd twisted his arm behind him and threw him against a wall.
Anger flaring through him, he'd hissed, "Touch me one more fuckin' time, /Bailey/, and I will send you to the hell you deserve to be in."
He'd never given Axl a chance to reply as he'd stomped off, hissing and fuming to himself about how things never changed.
~~~~
Above the sound of the music, a phone began to trill. Snapping out of the spell that had been cast over them, Tom reached over and picked it up. A moment later, he sighed and shook his head. Jay felt his heart sink; he knew that was the call they'd been dreading.
Tom looked at him and bit his lip. "I'm sorry, dude, I really am." Reaching out, he placed a hand on Jay's shoulder. "It's gonna be all right. I've got your back."
Nodding, Jay sighed and pushed himself off the box and towards the door. It was time to face the music. Literally.
~~~~
For a few weeks following the show, Izzy had heard nothing from Axl. The phone had remained ominously quiet. He'd give it the evil eye as he walked past it, daring Axl to even think about calling him. But it never had. At least not for a while anyway.
Then the calls had begun again. Nothing was said about that event, although Izzy was sure there was a muttered apology buried deep in the first call. And then it had begun again. Izzy, can you do this. Izzy, can you come here. Izzy, jump when I tell you to.
Sure Axl, how high?
He'd gritted his teeth through the calls, putting up with them until that fateful day.
~~~~
Like gladiators on their way to battle, Jay and Tom headed up the bare steps and into the store. Music blared and camera flashes went off. People screamed and journalists jostled for the best positions. Jay found himself cowering in a corner, not wanting to step out. Through the throngs of people, he could see the long table where Axl was seated, smiling and answering questions as he scribbled on the covers of CD's.
Jay didn't have long to stare and take it all in before a suited, and slightly perspiring, manager stepped up to them.
"You two go stand behind Mr. Rose," he demanded. "The others on a break. Make sure no-one gets too close and personal, if you know what I mean."
Tom opened his mouth to protest but the manager just glared at him.
"I don't want to hear it Tom. Not now, not tonight."
He smiled weakly at Jay and shrugged. "Fuckin' jobs-worth. He's only justifying his fuckin' wage."
Jay returned the smile and placed a hand on Tom's shoulder. "It's gonna be okay. Honest." He shrugged, eyes saddening a little. "I can do this. It's time to face him anyway."
The smile on Tom's face widened. "You're a brave man, Mr. Stradlin, a brave fuckin' man." He held his hand to Jay. "And if this should be our last meeting, please know that you have my utmost respect."
Jay laughed and took Tom's hand, shaking it. "And if we get outta this alive, the first drinks are on me."
"You're on!" Tom let out a laugh before nudging Jay in the direction of the table. "Right, let's do it to him before he does it to us."
With a purposeful stride, they walked behind the table, all attempts to stop laughing failing. Whether it was nerves or the sheer stupidity of it, neither could stop the fits of giggles as the positioned themselves just behind Axl.
"Hey," Tom whispered, leaning over so Jay could hear him. "What's been with his wigger look?"
Covering his mouth, Jay giggled and bit his lip, shaking his head.
"I have no fuckin' idea," he quietly replied, unable to drag his gaze from the ponytail of braids. "No fuckin' idea."
They both caught the glare of the nearby manager. Trying to hide the smiles and laughter, they straightened up, assuming positions of authority as they draped their hands behind their backs.
Jay watched as people came and went, strangely elated that his nerves at being so close to his former master had disappeared. In fact, he was feeling almost high. He didn't know how much of it was the alcohol he'd consumed but he was loving the buzz. Here he was, standing so close and Axl was clueless that the man he'd been hunting for was mere inches behind him. He smiled to himself, letting out a low chuckle. He felt good, real good.
There was a lull as the CD changed track and Jay watched as a pretty young girl stopped to speak with Axl. Over the noise of chattering voices, he caught snippets of the conversation.
"... have you found..." The girl's eyes seemed to be filled with concern.
His brow furrowed as he watched Axl's shoulders tighten a little. Jay gritted his teeth as the next song kicked in and he leaned in, desperate to catch what was being said.
"Gone..." Axl hissed. "For fuckin' good... Don't fuckin' care... Worthless piece of shit..."
Jay looked up and caught the girl's look of terror. He could feel his heart thudding in his chest, terrified that she was hearing this and angry at Axl. After everything he'd said in interviews, everything about wanting Izzy to come back to the fold, and now he was badmouthing him to all and sundry.
Stepping forward, Jay bent forward and brushed his lips against Axl's ear.
"Looking for someone, motherfucker?" he hissed angrily.
In an instant, Axl was on his feet, eyes wide and nostrils flaring as he swung around. Jay stood, hands on his hips, glaring at him. He watched as Axl gasped, a hand coming to his mouth as he took in the man that stood before him. Black jeans, black t-shirt and a music store laminate that bore the name /Jay/. Brown hair that curled into the nap of his neck and brown eyes that were dark with anger.
"Izzy?" he meekly asked.
Izzy glared. "You got that fuckin' right."
Everything around them died, the music fading to nothing and the voices of fans quietening. Everyone was watching with baited breath. And Izzy didn't care. They needed to know.
"Why..." Axl's voice died as he dropped his gaze, unable to look at him any longer.
"Because you're a fuckin' cunt!" Izzy bawled.
The long suppressed rage stormed through Izzy as he carried on, "You know fuckin' why Bill. You know why I fuckin' dropped off the face of the planet. Because of you/." He carried on glaring, his hands balling into fists. "/YOU! The man who took me and tore me to pieces!" Axl shuddered before him and Izzy felt his heart swell with the sweetness of revenge. "You stole everything I gave you, didn't you, /Bill/? My work, my life, my love. You hid the real you behind a curtain of lies and deceit, didn't you? Pretended like you didn't care. Pretended that it was okay to leave me bleeding in the middle of the floor. And why? Because you couldn't admit to yourself what you really were, could you? You couldn't admit to yourself that you preferred sleeping with me than with all those pretty girls that chased after your sweet ass. Well, I was there first and that's what you fuckin' hated the most, wasn't it? That someone else had laid claim to before you had the chance to do it them."
Stepping forward, Izzy bunched his hand into the braids and yanked Axl's head back. Red-hot rage was still boiling through his veins as he stared into the saddened green eyes before him.
"You beat me for your own short-comings, didn't you?" Izzy's voice became lower, hoarse and flushed with hate. "You couldn't beat yourself up so you took it out on the one person who actually cared for you."
Pushing Axl away from him, Izzy let his eyes sweep up and down him, taking him in as he crossed his arms over his chest. Axl looked defeated and broken, his head hanging forward.
"You're pathetic Axl," he whispered, a hint of sadness creeping into his voice. "And you should be fuckin' ashamed of yourself."
Sighing, Izzy turned and stepped away from him. Looking straight ahead of himself, he headed for the door. He felt someone fall into step beside him and he gave a small smile as he looked at Tom.
"You owe me a drink, mate," the man whispered with a wink.
The crowds parted, silent as they watched him leave. Not a word was whispered, not one person stopped him.
And that was just the way he liked it.
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