Seriousness in a relationship was not the strong suit of the twenty-two-year-old boy with a lot of fame. Maybe fame made him feel that way, maybe the fact of having everything any man in the 80s wanted: Drugs, alcohol and women, made him feel superior. Maybe the fact that he was not the same shy boy who hid on stage because he was embarrassed to be seen playing his guitar. Obviously he wasn't the only one who thought like that, the entire band "Guns N' Roses" did, after all, they were no longer those kids who lowered their heads when scolded—they had already become an arrogant mass.

Anyway, who are you? Well, you're a friend of Slash's—they had a close friendship. A friendship that was ruined after sex got in the way... Yes, you and him were friends with benefits. From day one, Slash made one thing clear to you—you guys would never have anything serious. Yours only had to be based on fucks and quickies. So, that was it, it's not like you wanted anything serious either. You were the same age as him and you had the same thought that seriousness in a relationship was not what you were looking for now.

But... Do you know something strange? The man began to feel alone, he really felt alone. It was as if all his effort to have everything was boring him. Since he had what he always wanted—less love. It was hard for him to understand how you still weren't asking him to be more than just friends with benefits. It was kind of obvious that he wasn't going to receive that request—or at least not in that way, you wouldn't stoop like that.

He had called you today, asking you to go to a random hotel room where he was. So you went since you had nothing better to do, plus you were bored. You did your thing with Slash, then just started watching TV nonchalantly—Wasn't having sex supposed to be making love? He was wondering if you at least felt a flutter in your stomach. Slash wasn't the only one who wanted to have that feeling. So he gave you a little nudge.

—"So... Do you feel anything?"