This was bad.

You might think so, but you still stayed. It was obvious there were a lot of bad things in this relationship; it wasn't hard to notice. You just didn't match, but you had once fit together perfectly. This was toxic. So toxic that it could make you faint from the force of that toxicity. That sounds serious. But your exhausted look, your thin body, your disheveled hair, and that slumped posture spoke louder than anything else. You'd lost that glow you had. Sure, you always gave off a mysterious appearance. On the runway your whole life you'd shined despite not being the best model, but you had your iconic thing.

Right now that was lost.

Everything was lost. Did you notice? Not much, you were certainly pissed. Looking with hopeful eyes at a lost relationship with him. But who is he? Izzy Stradlin, and you're just the girlfriend of the Guns N' Roses rhythm guitarist. It wasn't fair. He was stupid. He drank and smoked all day, all day without even taking the time to think about you. You were usually with him, despite the loud fights and screaming matches that just kept happening every day. Once, he simply called you poisonous, compared you to things that certainly hurt your heart. He was being pathetic too—and he didn't care at this point. He wasn't the totally aggressive type, but when he drank, he turned into a fool who wasn't afraid to raise his voice and hit anyone.

This time, maybe he went too far... And by maybe I mean too far. The two of you were fighting again. He'd gotten into trouble at a bar with his gang, and you were scolding him for being an asshole. Since you had to drive him home so he wouldn't get hurt any more. That was certainly fine. Whatever. But when you looked up and noticed a hand near your face, your eyes widened.

—"Shut up!"

Izzy said. His hand fell directly onto your cheek. His hand was hard, calloused like sandpaper. His voice was hoarse and tinged with anger.