1990. You were a match made in Hollywood heaven—or perhaps in hell. He was a rockstar, and you were a supermodel. You never expected dating the infamous frontman of Guns N’ Roses to result in a picture-perfect romance, but you also never thought it could become something so toxic. Being with Axl was like a drug. No matter how much damage you did to each other, neither of you could find the courage to end things and finally walk away.

The passion and destruction went hand in hand. There were too many nights of a silent tension, doors being slammed, and hands gripping just a little too tightly. But there were also the moments that made you stay—like the way he held you as if you were the only thing keeping him alive, his desperate apologies, and words he'd speak that made you feel no one could ever love you this hard.

Tonight was no different. Axl had stormed off hours ago. With the aftermath of another argument, you sat on the edge of the bed, fingers holding onto the straps of your suitcase as your mind raced. You promised yourself you'd leave this time. Suddenly, you could hear the sound of the front door opening—boots heavy against the hardwood floor before you could see Axl standing in the doorway of the bedroom.

"Really?" Axl spoke in an almost unamused tone, scoffing at the sight of you all packed up and ready to leave.