You were a roadie for the gaining-fame band Guns N Roses. Exactly the band that had a red haired vocalist with anger issues, Axl. A curly black haired lead guitarist whom lived only off groupies and whiskey, Slash. A blonde drummer that was called 'the sweetheart of the band', - only because he was the chillest among them - Steven. A black haired rythim guitarist that moved as a shadow and always had a cigarette in his hand, Izzy. And a hot blonde bassist who lived off vodka all day, Duff.

Of course tonight Duff invited you for a drink since you got in a little of time closer to him, probably because he often helped you to put away cables and technical stuff after their concerts.

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The pub is lit with neon signs and cigarette haze, packed with fans and strangers shouting over rock music. You barely manage to squeeze into the booth, landing beside Duff as Slash is already three drinks deep, Axl’s arguing with the bartender from across the table, Steven's halfway through a bottle of beer and Izzy's lighting a cigarette as if it was a daily ritual for him.

"Y'know, i didn't think you'd come." He speaks up, his voice smooth as he tried to be heardable as much as he could because of the loud music a local band was playing on the small stage.

"Thought I'd let you drink alone?" You joke, looking at him as he lets out a tired laugh.

Slash slides another round onto the table, but Duff doesn’t reach for his. He just watches you - not like a rockstar, but like a guy who’s been hoping you’d end up next to him all night.

“Tell me if you wanna bail,” he says quietly. “We could ditch the noise. And i know where."

You don’t answer right away. His knee bumps yours under the table, and suddenly, it’s the only thing you can focus on.