~The Izzy Cam~

"God, I'm a fucking idiot," Jon cursed himself, massaging his sore face with reluctant fingertips. Axl wasn't done with him, not in the least; his thick fingers gripped Jon's collar even tighter as he whispered threateningly to the perverted bastard.

"You'll never touch her, you'll never even come near her, you little shitter. I swear to god if you do I'll have your ass. She belongs to me."

"She doesn't belong to anyone, she's made that increasingly clear. You've got a chick, man." Axl yanked Jon's collar even tighter, causing him to choke and sputter. "Erin ain't shit, and you know it. Skipper Nelson is a prize, a prize that even I have to fight to achieve. You're not even a contender in the game."

"Oh I am now, you think I'm giving up after this? You're right when you say she's a prize, I've been looking for something long-term anyways. She's perfect."

"Over my dead body!" Axl released Jon's collar and wrapped his hand tightly around Jon's throat. "You'll never come near her, didn't you hear me say that?" Jon clawed fiercely at Axl's tight grip, forcing a sinister grin. "I should've known she wasn't a whore, I was just too blinded to see it before. She's feisty, and she puts people in their place. I dig it, and I want it."

"She's mine." Jon glanced inside of the building, where Skipper and Slash just disappeared. Axl was distracted just enough to allow Jon's escape, after which he climbed to his feet and dusted himself off. "I'll gain her forgiveness, don't worry. And when I do, she'll forget all about the sad little redhead who doesn't know how to keep a woman. Game on." With that, he turned on his heel, dusty cowboy boots clicking up a storm.

Axl growled under his breath.

****

Skipper's POV

"And our guest of honor has finally arrived!" Says a forcefully enthusiastic voice into a microphone somewhere. Upon looking around I realize that Lara Kramer is on the stage, dressed even more formally than when we first met.

The room is arranged banquet style, with large round tables decked out with white table cloths, unidentifiable silverware, candles, and wine. Boy, I'm really gonna need the wine. The room is dimmed, and to the right of the stage sits a large and sleek black piano, and behind that a large ballroom style dance floor. People are slowly trickling into the room, situating themselves at tables, talking amongst themselves.

"I think she wants you to go up there," Slash points out, nodding toward Lara. She beckons me exaggeratedly, wearing a stupidly cheesy smile. I turn up my nose a bit and approach the nearest table, pulling out a chair for myself. "I know, now pretend you don't see her and go find me some champagne."

"Bossy," he pretends to be irritated before he turns and walks away.

"Little old Skip, too important to remember her friends."

The rest of the band approaches, unfortunately with Erin in tow. Among them is a dark-skinned woman with a large and wild hair, manicured into tiny and tight little curls. Her teeth are straight and unnaturally white, providing a bright contrast to her ebony tone.

Carleigh, looking as regal as ever stands there, waiting for my reaction. "You... you know her, right? She said you know her." Duff says skittishly, staring down at her hair. He reaches out to touch it but she quickly slaps his hand away. "Ow!" He whines, and crosses his arms.

"Carleigh, I... you're back from Colombia." I give her a guilty smile, and she shakes her head. "I've been back for weeks, but you... you're a tough person to get a hold of, now." I wrap my arms around her for a hug, which she gladly returns. "It's good to see you," she laughs, holding both of my hands in hers. A few seconds later her eyes lock on someone behind me, "Wow, who is he and is he single?"

Slash stands there with two bubbling glasses of golden liquid, gazing at Carleigh and I. "Here, uh... champagne." He says slowly, glancing at my forward friend awkwardly.

"Um... Slash, this is one of my old friends from school, Carleigh. Carleigh, this is my better half, Slash." Carleigh's eyes narrow into two dark little slits, roaming up and down Slash's toned body. I could see why she'd be drawn to him immediately, but Slash looks like a frightened child. He shakes her hand anyway, but she doesn't let go. "Nice to... meet you?" "The pleasure's all mine," she purrs, and Steven giggles.

"I like her." He whispers to Duff. Duff shivers a bit, "She scares me."

Lara's voice comes over the intercom again, saving us all by the bell. "Now that everyone's seated and situated, a few words from our guest of honor about her accomplishment! After that, I hope you brought your earplugs because we've brought live music!" There's a short round of applause.

"Now, everyone give it up for Dr. Nelson!" There's more applause, even a few hoots as every pair of eyes in the room is averted to me. I stand there, frozen in my spot. Rosie approaches, seating Erin right next to my place at the table. Perfect. "Dr. Nelson?" Lara says.

"Damn it all," I complain, stealing one of Slash's champagne glasses. I take it all in one go, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand once I finish. "Damn, thirsty?" Slash mutters as I make my way reluctantly toward the stage. "You should've seen her her freshman year. Vodka was her go-to drink."

I climb up onto the stage and approach Lara at the podium. Immediately she hands me the microphone, and I'm staring at a crowd of people waiting for me to speak. "Speech! Speech!" Steven screams from the back of the room, with both arms erect in the air. I sigh, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "Somebody restrain him."

For a reason unknown to me, that earns me a laugh from the crowd. "Okay, um... thanks for coming, I guess? Enjoy the music, and um... don't get AIDS." I put the mic down, and exit the stage. There's a pause, and then a confused round of applause. Lara clears her throat, "Well, Dr. Nelson was never a talker. Our first act tonight is gonna be Queen, so... give it up!"

I return to the table, and plop down in my chair. Erin daintily sips a glass of white wine, "Oh, it's so strong! I don't think I can handle this!"

"Get used to it, sugar," I grumble, retrieving Slash's other glass of champagne and kicking it back. "Hey, I was gonna drink-" "No you weren't, you and I both know that you don't drink in public." He starts to protest and then quiets down, glancing over at Carleigh. She was always relentless when it came to men, and she's taken an obvious interest in Slash. He shies away like the little Virgin Mary he is, and tries not to make eye contact.

A waiter comes around to take all of our orders while I try to focus on 'My Melancholy Blues,' but it's increasingly hard with Rosie and Erin canoodling right beside me. Or at least she's relentlessly nuzzling into his side, giggling and making little girl noises and he pretends to enjoy it, looking up at me every five seconds to ensure that I'm watching.

Men suck ass.

"And for you, miss?" I look up at the cater waiter, and tap my lip. "Do you have, like... a bowl... with lettuce?" His eyebrows knit with confusion, "You mean a salad?" "Yeah, but like... without cheese, or dressing, or meat of any kind?"

"We have a Caesar salad, would that be alright?" "A Caesar salad with no croutons, dressing, cheese, or any toppings but lettuce would be good." He considers this, and nods his head slowly. "Alright... and for the lady?" He asks Erin. I turn up my nose, "Does anyone have more booze?" Slash shrugs and Carleigh nonchalantly sips her water. "Fine, I'll get it myself."

Once I've retrieved another glass of champagne I can't bring myself to go back to that stupid table. I can't sit with them and watch him with her. I can't, because when I look at them I see Michael and Diana, all over again. I physically and mentally can't handle that any longer.

So I sit on the piano bench and watch Freddy Mercury pretend to be okay, and hope that the medicine I give him will help in the long run.

A half hour later Queen is finishing up, and Rosie is arguing with our cater waiter. The waiter is holding a salad bowl and Rosie is reprimanding him for something, pointing emphatically to the bowl and its contents. "She said lettuce! What don't you get about 'lettuce'? Do you fucking speak English?" Duff approaches a few seconds later, and whispers something into his ear. Rosie's eyes shut and he releases a breath. "Fix this." He spits, before following Duff and the rest of the band onto the stage.

I sit on my piano bench, wondering which song they'll knock the place down with. Rosie taps the microphone with his finger and clears his throat, adjusting his collar. He spews some bullshit about the crowd, what a great doctor I am and how long he's known me.

"We've got a new song tonight, that not even Dr. Nelson has heard," he chuckles, glancing back at his band members. "It's a little song one of our guitarists wrote, a tune we like to call 'Don't Cry'."

Izzy was always good at writing songs, it doesn't surprise me that he's already come up with some new material. GN'R Lies is already on the fringes of release as well, so I assume this song must be from that.

I listen carefully to Rosie's voice, it always catches me off guard when he doesn't use his raspy upper register. It's a beautiful song, really, a bit more poetic than Izzy's previous works. 'There's a heaven above you' doesn't sound like him at all, but I enjoy the piece all the same, watching Slash work his magic with his eyes closed.

Once they finish I turn back to the piano, and start playing a few spare keys. Queen didn't bother to perform my favorite song, but that's okay, I remember the notes to 'Bohemian Rhapsody'. I feel a bit down as I play them, humming the tune to myself.

A warm hand places itself on my shoulder, but I don't move and I don't flinch. "It's an E flat," Rosie's voice gently tells me. "On the bridge, you're playing an F, but it's an E flat. Move over and I'll show you." I look up at him standing over me, almost wearing a smile on his face. His cheeks are slightly flushed from the performance.

I slide down on the bench and there's just enough room for him to sit beside me. He plays the tune slowly for me, using an E flat instead of an F, which I hate to admit sounds a whole lot better. "See? Now you." I stare at him, but he only nods toward the keys.

I start from the beginning, goosebumps raging up and down my leg when he places a hand on my inner thigh. He leans in, his lips nanometers from my ear. "I'm sorry." I continue to play the tune, and for a reason unbeknownst to me, I nod. "I'm sorry too. Slash and I, we don't... we weren't-"

"I know, he told me himself. I shouldn't have run out like that the other night, I was just pissed. And I shouldn't have brought Erin here. She... likes you, a lot. I don't know why." I give a small chuckle. "Yeah, well she likes you too."

"I like you," he says softly, and his hand moves even further up my leg. I don't stop him, though my brain is screaming at me to do so. He isn't with Erin/Diana, he's here with me. He's with me.

"Good, very good. Watch that E flat... good job." His fingers rub comforting little circles. "You've always been a good teacher." And suddenly I'm purring like a cat, leaning against him slightly. "You're a fast learner." He smiles, his breathing picking up significantly. He's going to kiss the side of my face, and I'm gonna let him.

I'm hurt, and I'm bruised, and Michael is to blame. So yeah, it feels good to be touched by my only other, and I won't push him away.

"Now play it again, student," he says, nearly nipping my ear with his teeth.

"Axl? Hey guys!"

Erin appears out of thin air, and to my dismay Rosie removes his hand from my leg so fast it's like he was never there at all, turning around on the bench to look at Erin. "What is it, Everly?" Rosie almost groans.

I wanted to get caught. I wanted him to show her who he truly cares for, but he won't. He still won't, and that bruises me even more.

"They're taking a break from live music and playing a slow song, you know, for dancing?" She motions toward the ballroom dance floor, which is quickly filling with couples, intimately pressed together and swaying back and forth to the melodic rhythm of a ballad.

"Let's go." He doesn't protest as she pulls him up off of the bench, dragging him to the dance floor. He just stares back at me apologetically, while I study my fingernails. I'm going to be that girl who sits in the gym during prom, alone, dateless. No matter how hard I've tried to avoid looking pitiful, it just keeps falling on my shoulders.

I watch Rosie and Erin dance together, the way she runs her fingers through his long and soft hair. I wish I was her, subliminally.

"Need a partner?"

Jon offers a hand to me, coupled with an apologetic smile. "Hell no, get the fuck away from me," I cringe, leaning back against the piano keys. He sighs, and lets his hand drop to his side. "Listen, what happened before? That ain't me, and I know you've heard about what people think I am. I've been getting a bad rap, and truthfully, I'm trying to find someone real to share my time with. So whaddya say?"

I stare up at him for a few seconds. "I say... get the fuck out of my sight!" He jumps and does as he's told, leaving me to sit with my head in my hands. Maybe I was a bit harsh, but I needed someone to take my frustration out on. Time passes. The song doesn't end. Rosie holds Erin the way he should be holding me.

"Curly?" I look up at Slash, standing with a glass in his hand. His eyes are everything soft. "I've been standing here for fucking ever, so are you gonna dance with me or should I go ask your catty friend?" I snort, staring at his extended hand. "Slash, you don't dance, you head-bang."

"I do for you," he says, yanking me up from my sitting position.

"Now I doped myself up on every medication in the book so I could be here, appreciate it." He shoves the glass of red liquid toward me. "Merdoc?" "Yeah, I figured it was stronger than champagne." I take three huge gulps, and swallow down the burning wine. "Good call." I take another drink, and set it on the nearest table, letting Slash lead me to the dance floor.

We stand there for a second, slightly confused. "So what do we do, like-" He takes my arms and places them around his neck, before gripping my waist in his hands. He begins to sway like everyone else, and I follow his movements. "Well... okay then..." I clear my throat, staring at his tanned skin beneath his slightly open blazer.

I can hear his heart beat thumping in my ear, so strong, so reliable. I want to tell him that I do see him, but I figure that this isn't the right time. Thump. Thump. Thump.

I allow my eyes to close and I rest my head against his chest. Jon is dancing with another woman, winking at me over her shoulder. I sneer and allow my eyelids to fall shut again, sighing involuntarily when Slash locks his arms around my hips. He's good at this, no matter how hard he tries to deny it.

"This is... nice," I swoon, already half-drunk. I have absolutely no tolerance, unfortunately. "It sure is," Slash agrees, his fingers tracing imaginary shapes on my bare shoulder.

I open my eyes just in time to see Rosie and Erin with their faces smashed together, kissing each other with a gusto so intense that it shreds my heart after a split second of watching. I let go of Slash. I let out a moan of deep pain.

Sorry that the last few chapters have been so long, but... once I start I can't stop, especially now that Slipper has graduated to something real... kinda.

Oh, Rosie, quite the man whore.

And Jon, I love you, but please... please... SIT DOWN YOU FUCKBOY

"I do for you..." SLIPPER AAAAHH

New chapter soon!