The year was 1984, and Axl had just arrived in LA, California. He was fucking broke, no other way to say it. He was twenty-two and fucking broke in a city he had never been to before. Thankfully a “friend” of his let him crash at his rundown house.

Axl laid awake, spooning his girl. She saved him in ways no one would know. He was caressing her hair and sighed, reaching over her to grab a pack of cheap Camels.

“Y’know, baby, I’m so glad you ran into me on that street corner.”