Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Fuck!” I mutter. Another incorrect note. Music is my true passion in life but life in Hollywood isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. My job combined with our complete lack of success has been stressing me out lately and it’s starting to affect my musical abilities in a way that I’m not sure how to handle.

“Give yourself a break, Julie. You need one.” My best friend Tiffany places a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

Tiffany is easily the most important person in my life, she has been for a long time. We met when we were 6 years old and our friendship is still going strong 12 years later. When I had the idea to start a band I knew she'd be more than happy to be in it. Naturally, the next step was to move out to Los Angeles and get an apartment together. That and finding more band members was a piece of cake but since then, everything's been basically stagnant.

Of course, we knew being an all-girl rock band would be tough. It's 1985 and women aren't exactly taken seriously in most capacities but especially among rockstars. If you're not fucking them, why should they even give you a second thought? It's fucked up but that's just the way things are nowadays.

I let that discourage me for about a month or two, then I remembered who I am and why I'm doing this. I couldn't give less of a fuck what Gene Simmons or Vince Neil thinks about women or their place in rock music. Madonna didn't get where she is today by giving a fuck about what men thought of her.

Coming up with a band name was surprisingly difficult, you'd think between four creative individuals we'd figure it out pretty quickly but it took quite some time. We came up with Theodora and knew immediately it was perfect. Theodora was an empress from the Byzantine Empire. She was one of the first empresses to draw attention to women's rights and it felt right to name our band after her.

"I'm going out with Victor tonight, so you'll have the place to yourself. Don't have too much fun."

I could practically see the sarcasm radiating off of Tiffany when she uttered that last part. It's no secret that I don't date. I've just never had the time to go out with anyone. In school, I was always too busy overachieving to acknowledge any romantic feelings. Now, my job and my band keep me occupied.

That doesn't mean that I don't want to date. I doubt I'd get very far, though. I'm pretty shy around people outside of my bandmates and I'm not exactly the most interesting person on the planet. But I'd say I'm pretty content for the most part. I don't think I should be adding more potential stress to my life right now anyway.

When Tiffany closes the door, I place my guitar against the wall and plop down on the couch. Being under stress isn't ideal for writing songs, in my experience. Since I don't have any plans, I'm trying to decide if I should watch some television or just go to bed. Considering I have to work tomorrow, sleeping would be the most logical option.

So of course I opted to watch TV.

We're all gonna die one day, what's the point? Live a little! Welcome to Julianna's boring life.

Chapter Text

Work is...work. I don't think anyone really enjoys their job, some days are just less shitty than others. I'm stuck with being a waitress until I make it big. Most days it feels like that'll never happen.

In all fairness, waitressing isn't all bad. I have some cool regulars and the rare but appreciated big tippers. But I have a strange feeling about today. I'm not sure if it's good or bad but I do know that today will be eventful.

"Hey, Julianna." one of my co-workers, Dylan greeted me as I walked past.

"Hi."

I could see that, at least for the time being, things at the restaurant were extremely slow so I started doing some cleaning while I still had the opportunity.

"American Girl" by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers was playing over the sound system when two guys walked in. They clearly weren't regulars and they seemed to be around my age.

"I fucking love this song!" The brunette on the left exclaimed loudly.

Ugh, with my luck I'll probably be stuck with these guys while they're here.

—

And I was right! Those two guys were complete nightmares. Between the constant flirting and being groped, I don't know how I didn't break someone's jaw. Just part of my job, unfortunately.

They didn't even leave a tip. Yet they decided to write their numbers on the back of their receipt.

Definitely going in the trash. Phone numbers don't keep my fucking rent paid.

The rest of my shift went by fairly quickly. Now I'm off to band practice.

When I got there, my bandmates were talking about god knows what, seemingly finding whatever it was pretty amusing.

"That's fucking hilarious." Our drummer, Veronica, laughed out.

"Hey, guys," I said as I sat my guitar case down and began opening it.

"Did any of you have any luck with the songwriting last night?" Tiffany piped up from the corner.

When the three of us groaned in unison, Tiffany had her answer.

"Well, I'd ask you the same question but I have a feeling you were preoccupied last night."

Tiffany looked taken aback by our lead singer's venom-laced words, but it's not a secret to anyone that Gwen and Tiffany haven't exactly been the best of friends lately, but they usually kept whatever they had to say to themselves so it wouldn't affect the band.

"You don't always have to be such a bitch, you know that, right?" Tiffany shot back, her words just as spiteful as Gwen's.

Veronica and I exchanged glances and sighed. This won't end well.

"You didn't have to fuck my boyfriend like the slut you are, you know that, right?" Gwen's shouted response sounded more hurt than angry, but her words cut deep nonetheless.

"For the last time. YOU broke up with HIM. He and I got together before I ever met you!"

Tiffany has a point. Gwen had a habit of breaking things off with Victor over the dumbest things. Victor got tired of it and he happened to bump into Tiffany. A one-night stand turned into a relationship and she met Gwen a few months later.
Tiffany and Gwen were good friends at first. Gwen mentioned that she wanted to be a singer and it just so happened that Tiffany and I were looking for a lead singer. Everything was working out pretty well until about a month ago when Gwen realized who Tiffany was dating.

Instead of responding, Gwen stormed out of our rehearsal space. So much for our Wednesday band practice.

Veronica ran a hand through her hair and let out another sigh before getting up and leaving through the door after Gwen.

"We don't need the whole band here to brainstorm." I sent Tiffany a reassuring smile and picked up my guitar.

"I think I'm just gonna head home," Tiffany muttered dryly, heading for the door.

Looks like it's just me today. That's not really a surprise, this is how things have been for the last two weeks and it's becoming more and more stressful as I begin thinking the worst.

Is this band really going to end over something this petty before we've even been together a full year?

When it comes to the band, I’ve found that I work best when I have at least one person in the band to bounce ideas off of. It helps the process and it makes our music feel like it was something we all created together instead of just one person. Another plus was combining our strengths. I’m pretty good with lyrics but when it comes to melodies, there’s an abundance of room for improvement. Tiffany isn’t the best at lyrics but she can bust out a melody like it’s nobody’s business.

Rather than try to come up with something on my own, I go for a walk on Sunset Strip. If inspiration doesn’t strike at some point, at least the fresh air can do me some good. Normally, I wouldn’t even think to walk the strip alone at night, but after the day I’ve had, I’m throwing all caution to the wind. What’s the worst that could happen? I’m not even going to think about answering that question.

The warm air flowing off of the pacific ocean and into the streets of Los Angeles hit my face as soon as I opened the door to the outside of the building. I’m not particularly in the mood to engage in a conversation with anyone, small talk, or otherwise, so a big part of me is hoping I don’t run into anyone I know or an overly chatty stranger.
When I left, I didn’t have a destination in mind, so I guess I’m going wherever my feet take me. Sometimes I forget that the strip is pretty crowded, even more so at night. It’s only Wednesday so it could be a lot worse, but the traffic surely wasn’t light by any means. So it’s not the best location for an impromptu absent-minded walk. Of course, I go crashing into someone. Classic Julie!

“Watch where the fuck you’re going, cunt,” the deep voice boomed in annoyance.

I wonder who pissed in his Cheerios.

“I’m so sorry!”

The redhead sighed and shook his head.

“Sorry, I’m Axl. Axl Rose.”

The name sounded familiar, and the face looked familiar too now that I had a good look at it, but I couldn’t remember where I’d heard that name or seen that name before.

“Julianna Cohn.”

“Well...I gotta get goin’, I’m playing the Whiskey with my band tonight. See ya around.”

He went to leave but stopped mid-turn.

“Unless you wanted to see us play?”

I thought about it for a second. I didn’t have any specific plans. Sure I had never met this man in my life, but we were going to a public setting so it couldn’t be that dangerous.

Probably.

Instead of responding, I began walking. I had only been to the Whiskey a Go-Go once or twice in the time that I’ve been in Hollywood, but if my band wants any chance of being successful, the nightclub scene is our best shot. I made it a point to memorize exactly how to get there from all directions.

It didn’t hit me until we arrived that he was the lead singer of Guns N’ Roses.

He definitely seems like the type to name his band after himself.

Being underage and terrified of having any sort of interaction with the cops, I decided that I wouldn’t try my luck at the bar and find a spot within view of the performance area instead.

This oughta be interesting.

Chapter Text

In terms of nationwide success, Guns N' Roses is a band that's virtually non-existent. I mean, considering that they're an unsigned band without a debut album, that isn't surprising. Looking at them and listening to their amazing music, I would say they take a lot of inspiration from Hanoi Rocks, The Rolling Stones, New York Dolls, and to a lesser degree, The Sex Pistols, particularly in their onstage behavior.

And just like all of those bands, they're extremely talented. This band might be the best band I've ever seen play the Whiskey or in LA in general.

They're really fucking good.

I take a second to look at all the members of the band. All of them are very attractive but the man clearly trying a little too hard to look like Johnny Thunders catches my eye. Everything about him screamed cool and mysterious and I instantaneously found myself wanting to do whatever I could to get to know him. My gaze lingers on him for a moment before I begin to survey the crowd. I feel somewhat out of place in this setting. It's mostly men and women trying way too hard to catch the attention of the band for...obvious reasons. No offense to them, I support women doing whatever they want as long as they aren't hurting anyone, but I can't picture myself ever being in that crowd.

Once their set finishes, I begin to wonder if I should wait for the redhead, Axl, to approach me at some point, or if I should just turn around and leave. I weigh my options and figure that I should stay. Not because of Axl, but because I don't really feel like going home and running the risk of walking in on Tiffany and her boyfriend. I don't really feel like going home at all now that I think about it, and if it wasn't earlier, now is definitely not the time to be walking the strip at night.

I sit at the table with my mind wandering, when Axl walks over to me with a massive grin on his face.

"Did you enjoy the show?" he sits down and waits for me to reply. Looking at him and how he carries himself, it's clear he's a man who has little insecurities, if any at all. I wonder for a moment if I should humble him just a tiny bit, but I decided not to.

"That was the greatest fucking thing I've ever seen." I return the smile, as his grows even wider, which I didn't think was possible.

He tells me to hold on for a second and disappears into the sea of people. When he reemerges, he isn't alone. He has a tall blonde man and another man with long curly black hair in tow, and I recognize them as the bassist and one of the guitarists respectively.

"This is Duff," Axl points at the blonde, who I've just discovered is named Duff.

"And this is Slash. Guys, this is Julianna."

I stand up and extend my hand for them to shake and an obviously intoxicated Slash pulls me into his arms for a hug instead. Although I was taken aback at first, I hug him back. At least he's friendly!

"We're having a bitchin' party at our place tonight, you should come." Duff leans over and whispers into my ear while I'm still in Slash's arms.

"I doubt you have anything better to do, no offense." Axl cuts in.

I want to object and tell him that I have plenty of better things to do than to go to some stupid party with people I don't know but 1. I literally have nothing else to do and 2. As cynical as I can be at times, I actually kind of like parties. I'm actually going to a party with strangers, just because they say I should. Ted Bundy would've just loved me.

"If you don't know our address, just follow the crowd." Slash half-shouts as he removes his arms from around my body and begins following his bandmates.

-
The house is exactly what you'd expect the members of an aspiring rock band to live in. The house is a complete dump and it appears so structurally unsound that I find myself questioning how the place is still standing. The lawn is covered with cans and bottles that once contained alcohol, shattered glass, cigarettes, and an alarming amount of drug paraphernalia. Despite my better judgment after seeing all of these things, I ascend the concrete stairs and open the door. Well, what was left of the door.

Upon opening the door, I am immediately greeted with the smell of alcohol, cigarettes, marijuana, and God knows what else. I also smell something burning and I pray to the Lord above that it isn't heroin, although that would explain the needles decorating the yard and the hardwood floor that adorned the interior of the house.

Before I know it, Slash grabs my arm and starts running up the stairs. This man is truly insane and I can see myself getting along well with him after tonight.

He brings me to a room with four other men in it and it doesn't take me longer than a second to recognize them as the other members of Guns N' Roses.

"That's Steven, he's our drummer. On his left is our rhythm guitarist Izzy. And you've already met Axl and Duff.

"Hi!" Steven exclaims excitedly. He's got a lot of energy, something most people expect from drummers.

Izzy looks up at me for a second with a blank expression, then looks away. I can't decide if it's because he's not impressed with what he's seen or if he's just shy.

"I need a drink." Duff wastes no time standing up and leaving the room to consume whatever alcohol the boys have in the house.

Axl leans over to Steven and whispers something in his ear. Whatever it was, it caused both of them to glance at me and chuckle slightly. Instead of asking any questions, I brush it off and sit on the chair that was once occupied by Duff as Axl, Steven, and Slash start talking amongst themselves. Izzy's eyes meet mine again, he looks at me for a little while longer than before, then he exits the room without saying a word.

The other guys seem to have forgotten I'm in the room, so I opted to leave too.

Walking down the stairs, I instantly recognize "Call Me" by Blondie blaring from somewhere down here and I resist the urge to embarrass myself by singing and/or dancing. A man approaches me and offers me a drink but I quickly decline. My mother wasn't good at being an actual parent, but she definitely told me to never accept a drink from a stranger.

Partying at a stranger's house, surrounded by strangers, was never brought up in that conversation.

I've always had exceptionally good hearing and when I hear sirens wailing in the distance, I go into panic mode. I assume no one else hears it so I scream.

"COPS!"

The atmosphere changes as everyone from all directions beings running to whatever exit is closest. I'm grateful for my smaller stature as I can easily move around the crowd of people and exit through a window that isn't as populated and is harder to spot from most angles. I don't even look behind me after I leap out of the window and run like my life depends on it. I technically didn't do anything wrong, but as previously mentioned, I DON'T like the cops.

I ignore the burning sensation in my lungs while I haul ass all the way to my apartment, narrowly avoiding being hit by several cars on the way. I sprint the full mile to my apartment, unlock the door, and collapse onto the couch after locking the door behind me.

"Well, you did say you were gonna try working out daily." Tiffany chuckles at my exhausted state. She goes into the kitchen and comes back with a glass of water, which I gratefully accept.

"I was worried about you, did you have a fun night?" Tiffany sits on the couch next to me when I sit up to drink.

"Mhm. I saw this really cool band play at the Whiskey, they invited me to a party at their house,"

Tiffany raises an eyebrow in amusement. She knows I'm not the type to go to just anyone's house. I pretend to ignore her and continue.

"Someone called the cops, and I got the fuck out of there as fast as possible."

"For someone who's never broken a law in their entire life, you sure are scared of the cops," Tiffany says while taking my empty glass.

"They've got guns and shit. You don't have to break any laws to get fucked up by a cop."

At the same time I stand up, Victor walks out of Tiffany's bedroom in nothing but his boxers.

We exchange awkward waves and he goes to meet Tiffany in the kitchen.

I like Victor. We got along really well when I first met him. He was a good guy and made Tiffany happy, that's all I cared about. Then when the whole situation with Gwendolyn happened, shit changed almost instantly. By this point, Gwen and I were friends so it made the situation difficult. I didn't want to just stop talking to Victor, but I didn't wamt to hurt Gwen. It's hard to be truly neutral when all three people involved are people you care for.

I decided to stop overthinking and go into the bathroom for a hot shower and some sleep.

Chapter Text

Same shit, different fucking day.

Don't ask me how I'm balancing six days a week at my job and band practice three to four days a week, because I truly have no fucking idea. I tried college but once the band formed, I cut that out of my schedule completely.

It's been about a month since the argument with Gwen and Tiffany went down and our band hasn't practiced. I tried to be sympathetic for the longest time, but it's beyond ridiculous now. Veronica, Tiffany, and I have been wanting to do band stuff but Gwen refuses because she's mad that Tiffany is dating a man SHE broke up with. It's not like Tiffany did it intentionally, and the fact that she's letting her own personal stuff interfere with our band is really pissing me off.

We've all got shit going on, but Gwen loves being a drama queen. Veronica has suggested kicking her out of the band a few times and Tiffany has echoed the same sentiment, but I don't think my patience has thinned to that extent just yet.

But it's getting there.

Young musicians aren't hard to come by, but finding someone who fits the band's sound as perfectly as Gwen's adds on a large layer of difficulty that I'm not prepared for. We'd have to start all over, teach our new singer the songs, establish chemistry...it seems exhausting and more trouble than it's worth, at least for the time being.

"Hey, Julie." Dylan greeted me as I walked past, something he does whenever we work together. Sometimes it ends up being the best part of my day.

As the day progresses, I find myself smiling a lot more than I usually do. Customers are easier to deal with and a large amount of them were actually friendly. It created a light-hearted atmosphere in the restaurant that we don't get too often, unfortunately. The time seemed to fly by.

"Good luck Dylan," I said goodbye and walked out of the front door. Dylan was always there an hour before I arrived, and an hour before I left. The rest of the staff is pretty cool, but Dylan is the only one I'd consider to be a friend of mine. He's essentially the less musically inclined male version of me.

I head to our rehearsal space for the second time this week. I've extended the invitation to Gwen as if she needs an invitation to show up to her own fucking band's rehearsal. If she doesn't show up tonight, she's out. Our time is just as important as hers and we're all tired of it being wasted.

I'm usually the first person to show up, but some days that isn't the case, like today.

"Hey," Gwen says shyly.

I give her a blank stare and proceeded to put my things down on a table nearby.

"Nice of you to finally decided to show up," I stated plainly.

"Look, I know I've missed a lot of practice and I totally understand the three of you being pissed at me, but can you please take one second to see this from my perspective?"

I couldn't help but scoff at what was coming out of Gwen's mouth. Has she seriously taken an objective look at the situation and came to the conclusion that she has a leg to stand on.

"Okay fine. You broke up with a guy, he moved onto Tiffany, you were so jealous that he wasn't falling you around like a lost puppy, and you took it out on Tiffany."

Gwen rolled her eyes but before she could speak, Tiffany and Veronica entered the room. Anger was written all over Tiffany's face, while Veronica seemed to be as cool as a cucumber.

That's one thing I've always liked about Veronica. She can keep her cool in some pretty tough situations. That's not all there is to like about her, though. She's utterly gorgeous. Her dark skin and hair that was almost always styled in an afro were truly beautiful features that I couldn't help but admire. She's beautiful, smart, talented, and has an amazing personality. She's the full package.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Tiffany wasted no time beginning the screaming match we all knew was about to go down.

"We're in the same band." Gwen managed to maintain her regular tone of voice, but if I know Tiff like I think I do and trust me, I do, she'll keep going until she sets Gwen off and then everything will go up in flames.

"Clearly the band hasn't been very high on your list of priorities for the past four weeks. Finally make time in your schedule for us, princess?" Tiffany was speaking with her genuine emotions, but part of her wanted to get a reaction out of Gwen. She knows how Gwen feels about being called a "princess".

Gwen looks like she wants to say something to Tiffany that would no doubt escalate the situation even further, but she takes a deep breath and regains her composure.

"I'm sorry, okay? For everything. Julie was right, I should've maintained my professionalism above all else...and I shouldn't have put some guy over you and our friendship."

The three of us looked at Gwen semi-shocked. That girl never apologizes for anything. Instead of responding, Tiffany tells Veronica and I that she's stepping out for a smoke.

I'm not sure if we should discuss things further or let bygones be bygones, but it's not exactly my place to make that call.

Tiffany returns just as I finished tuning my guitar and walked up to Gwen. If I didn't know Tiffany, I'd say she was going to punch Gwen in the face with the speed she was moving.

"That whole situation was fucked up, but I know how hard it is for you to apologize to people, so I forgive you." Tiffany pulls Gwen in for a hug and for the first time in a while, things seem okay between the four of us.

"I would like to reiterate that Gwendolyn said I was right." I smiled proudly.

"Yeah, don't get used to hearing that from me."

It was nice while it lasted, at least.

Band practice turned out to be super productive, and it hasn't been that way in a long time. We got a lot of work done today and hopefully, we can keep this up for a while. We spent about 7 hours in our rehearsal space and it felt more like 5 minutes. Time really does fly when you're surrounded by positivity.

The girls and I said our goodbyes and parted ways for the night. Tiffany had mentioned that we haven't seen each other this past month like we usually do. Of course, I feel bad about that, she's been my best friend for so long. But I've been spending a lot of time with the Guns N' Roses boys...Axl in particular can be a persuasive little shit when he wants to be. I've already told the guys that Tiffany's birthday is this weekend and they can't keep monopolizing my time. I need more feminine energy!

"Julie!" I hear someone call out. I recognize the voice as soon as it hits my ears.

"Hey Slash, what's up?"

Minus Izzy, I'm becoming pretty close with the members of Guns N' Roses. I just wish that man wasn't so goddamn elusive.

Slash and I walk and talk. Clearly, he's decided we're hanging out tonight. I don't mind it much since Tiffany's going out with Victor tonight, Gwen is visiting her parents, and Veronica is doing god knows what, like always. So even if I wanted to make plans with someone, it's not like I had anyone else anyway.

"I don't think anyone's at the house, besides Izzy." From the way he phrased his sentence, it was a clear indication that Slash had no interest in staying at the "Hell House" with Izzy, he usually opted to spend his nights the same way he spent his days: completely wasted. It didn't matter if it was alcohol or heroin, if it got him high, he'd take it.

But this isn't about Slash. I want to see Izzy...I might have a slight obsession with a man who has never even said a single word to me, but I mean, he's absolutely gorgeous. There's something about him that keeps me drawn to him and I'm determined to figure out what it is. No matter how long it takes me.

"Then let's go to the house."

Before Slash can process what I said so he could say no, I grab him by the arm and run as fast as I possibly can while dragging a grown man behind me. It only takes about 15 seconds of running before I realized, Slash in tow or not, I'm very out of shape. I'm running out of breath, determined to get to the band's house. I'll be wheezing all the way down Sunset Boulevard and trying to convince myself it's worth it by the time we get there. But knowing me, it won't.

We enter the house and lo and behold...

Izzy isn't there. Despite me struggling to breathe, the look of defeat plasters my face and Slash starts laughing his ass off.

"Izzy's out working, I just wanted to see how you'd react. Sure didn't think you'd go runnin' to our house, though." Slash manages to get out through his fit of hysterical laughter.

"Slash! Why the hell would you do that?"

"Because I know you like him. I got the confirmation I needed. Just wait until I tell Duff!" Slash heads for the stairs, but I grab his arm before he starts his ascent.

"You cannot tell Duff," I tell him seriously.

"He can't tell Duff what?" Duff appears from the kitchen

"And why are you out of breath? And why are you holding Slash's arm?"

"She totally likes Izzy, dude. I told her that he was here and she dragged me through the streets. We almost got hit by like, 5 cars."

My shocked face slowly twists into a look of confusion as Duff rolls his eyes, pulls out his wallet, and hands Slash a 20 dollar bill.

"Dude, you guys bet on whether I liked Izzy or not?" I was part shocked, part confused, and part mortified that my crush on Izzy was that obvious. Izzy seems like a smart man, so I couldn't stop thinking about the possibility of him knowing and not talking to me because I'm a weird chick who likes him without even knowing anything about him.

"Yeah, and now I'm out 20 bucks because you can't control your goddamn hormones," Duff says in mock frustration. I ignore his joke as the overthinking sets in further.

"Does...does he know?"

"Nah. The man's pretty oblivious, plus he doesn't pay much attention to anything except drugs, work, and music. It's fine." Duff reassures me.

Then Izzy walks in. The three of us get quiet when he shuts the door behind him. He looked at the guys then looks me up and down. He then looks back up at my face like he's done several times before, but this time he doesn't look away when our eyes meet, not immediately, at least. I feel my heart start beating a mile a minute at the momentary eye contact and feel myself longing for it again when it breaks.

He nods his head and walks up the stairs. I guess his first words to me will have to wait another day.

"What does Izzy do for work?" I ask, to no one in particular.

"He's a drug dealer," Duff replies nonchalantly.

I don't know how to respond to that, so I don't. Slash and Duff have their own conversation and I find myself wondering what kind of person Izzy is. I don't know what to think. All I know is he's a damn good musician, an equally gifted writer, and a drug dealer.

Who the hell is Izzy Stradlin?

Chapter Text

Gwendolyn isn't like us.

Visually, looking at me and Gwen specifically was like night and day. Our styles couldn't be any more different. While she opted for bright neon clothing and scrunchies, I preferred leather and chains. There's nothing wrong with her fashion sense per se, it's just different from mine. Our differences also extend to the places we hang out in, apparently.

Gwen wanted us to have a pre-birthday celebration for Tiffany and assured us that she knew that perfect place. Considering Madonna's "Dress You Up" was blasting through the speakers...I'm gonna have to disagree on the perfection of it for us. But I could totally see Gwen coming here pretty regularly. I mean, the place is pretty much covered in glitter that I know will appear in my apartment and anywhere else I go for the next 5 years.

But I'm determined to make the best of the situation. If Gwen can deal with me and my angst, I can tolerate being in this glorified Barbie Dreamhouse for a few hours.

I usually don't participate in the underage drinking thing, but I can make an exception for Tiffany. She thinks I'm hilarious when I'm drunk.

When I step into the kitchen, I waste no time pouring the first alcoholic beverages I grab into the first cup I find. Hearing "Cruel Summer" by Bananarama only gives me further confirmation that there's no way in hell I'll be able to survive tonight sober.

"Julie...what are you doing here?" The voice doesn't scare me, nor does it prompt me to turn around. I immediately recognize Axl's deep and quite frankly, extremely sexy voice.

"Celebrating my best friend's birthday, you?" I ask nonchalantly.

"I'm just trying to get laid," he states and I assume he wanders off after that to do exactly what he said he would do. Given Axl's good looks and charisma, it wouldn't be a difficult task.

As the party rages on, I find the simple task of standing upright increasingly difficult and I slump over in a chair, refusing to stop drinking even though I know I shouldn't. I'm not exactly sure what's wrong with me. Sure, this kinda place ain't exactly my cup of tea, but does it really require this much alcohol to get through? I feel myself involuntarily swaying in my seat and this time, someone's voice startles me.

"I don't know who the fuck is responsible for the music in this shithole, but you've got the right idea."

I look over and almost fall out of my seat, but not from the alcohol this time. Izzy's sitting right next to me and pouring himself a drink.

I feel my heart start to race and insecurities about my physical appearance appear. How does my hair look? Is my lipstick smudged?

"Yeah." is all I can manage to say without stuttering like an idiot. I've never been like this around any man, including previous crushes, I don't know what makes him so different.

Wait...why the fuck is he here?

I thought I looked out of place in this environment, but Izzy sticks out among the bright colors. He's the kind of guy you'd find in a small bar with a glass of whiskey and a cigarette. He must've known what I was thinking because he answered my question.

"Axl heard there was a party goin' on and thought it was the perfect place to find a chick to spend the night with. The bastard talked me into bringing him here."

Hearing Izzy speak for the first time, I can clearly hear his Midwestern accent. That's something we have in common.

"That sounds like Axl."

As I drink more "liquid courage", the conversation with Izzy flows more naturally. We talked about absolutely nothing but it still felt...easy.

"Julianna! Tiffany's passed out in the bathroom, we gotta get her home." Gwen giggles when she approaches me. By this time, I'm already drinking water in an attempt to sober up, as suggested by Izzy.

Gwen is heavily intoxicated, so it looks like she'll be spending the night at my apartment tonight. Veronica too, once we track her down.

"Let's find her and walk her home." I sigh and stand up.

"I could give you and your friends a ride." I smile at Izzy's offer and I'm about to accept it before Gwen loudly interrupts.

"Julie! You can't get in a car with a man you don't know, that's how Ted Bundy killed all those women!"

Izzy couldn't hold back a small laugh at the Ted Bundy comparison. I added another thing to the list of things I adore about him. His laugh, although brief and quiet, gave me a warm feeling.

"He's not a stranger, this is Izzy. Now let's go get Tiffany and find Veronica."

"Oh, Veronica's doing coke in the basement."

Of course she is.

Izzy and I went to get Tiffany while Gwen tracked Veronica down. We met in the front yard and threw the three of them in the backseat.

"Axl can find a way home," Izzy says, and I can't tell if he's serious or just joking, so I chuckle just in case.

Izzy starts driving and I notice he's going in the right direction, despite me never telling him my address.

It's like he's reading my mind once again because he responds to my thought.

"Slash asked me to drive to your place one night."

So he has a good memory, that's cool I guess.

When we arrive, Izzy helps me carry the girls up the stairs and into my apartment. I put Tiffany in her bed and he puts Veronica and Gwen in mine.

When I turn around to thank Izzy, he's already disappeared from my apartment. I look outside the window for his car to confirm that he has indeed left the premises. I sigh and lock my front door.

Kicking my shoes off, I find some clothes and go straight to the shower. There's so much glitter on my skin and I know it's gonna be a nightmare, but I don't have the energy to worry about it right now.

Tomorrow I'm gonna have to deal with my hungover friends and their whining in addition to finishing up the plans for Tiffany's party.