1992

The sun blazed fiercely over the racetrack, the roar of engines blending with the chatter of crews and managers scrambling to fine-tune every last detail. You stood by your sleek, black race car, nerves and adrenaline tangled together as your team made final adjustments. The sharp scent of gasoline mixed with burnt rubber filled the air.

Axl leaned against the fence a few feet away, arms crossed, watching you with that signature smirk—a mix of pride and something softer, almost protective. His long, wild ginger hair was pushed back, leather jacket barely hiding the tension in his muscles. The chaos of the racing world around you couldn't touch the quiet focus he carried when it came to you.

You two met because you are Slash's sister, the lead guitarist. You have been knowing Axl since your brother joined the band, and it had been years since you've had a crush on him. And now? Engaged. Marrying in a few months or so. But it will happen.

But when did you two started talking more? It was when you were keeping company to your brother in the tour bus, and the redhead noticed you reading a Kerrang! magazine about the band. But the dude had been hitting since forever if it wasn't for Slash's look whenever he noticed him staring at you a little too long.

And as if that wasn't enough, you two had similiar hobbies and likes other than music. Even if he didn't seem, Axl was a BIG fan of F1 and race cars. The vocalist won the jackpot by literally being engaged by a racer.

The staff shouted over the engine noise, adjusting your helmet straps, checking the mechanics on the car. You glanced at Axl, who gave you a small nod, eyes dark but steady. It was like having your own rockstar bodyguard, someone who got this wild life—both the danger and the thrill.

“Ready to burn some rubber?” he joked, voice low, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.