Young Axl

————
1994

The red-head in front of me smirks mischievously, placing his hand on my thigh. I smirk in return, taking his hand and moving it higher up my thigh. With a smirk still apparent in his features, he raises his eyebrows and licks his lips. His eyes are clouded with lust. My eyes reflect the same primal emotion.

"How 'bout we take this to mine," I whisper seductively. He bites his bottom lip, a quiet chuckle escaping his luscious mouth.

"Lead the way, baby," he says.

And with that, I take his hand in mine.

————
The next morning

My head aches as I open my eyes. I feel a strange warmth beside me. I groan softly, my muscles sore from last night's excursion.

Then I realise the mysterious source of warmth is last night's coping mechanism.

Sighing, I pull myself out of bed. Looking down, I realise that my body is still completely bare. I head into the bathroom, and I look in the mirror. My neck and chest are covered with bluish-purplish splotches. There are a few scattered on my stomach and thighs.

Hopefully that dude'll be gone when I get out of the shower. If not, I'll have to wake him up and kick him out.

I hop in the shower to rid my body of last night's lingering smells of alcohol, foreign bodies, and sex.

When my showering comes to a finish, I step out and pull my towel around me.

I carefully open the door and peek into my bedroom. The guy is gone, and the only sign of him is the messy sheets piled up in the centre of the bed and the indention of his head in the pillow.

Sighing in relief, I step into the bedroom and quickly pull on some comfy clothes. I exit the bedroom cautiously, running a hairbrush through my wet hair.

Then, I hear a cough.

Damn it, the guy's still here!

I carefully make my way to the living room, where the man is pulling on his shoes. His brows are furrowed in concentration and frustration as he slips on his shoe, only to have to adjust it. His mouth lets out mumbled curses as his finger gets stuck in the shoe with his foot. The man manages to pull his finger out of the shoe.

And I get a flashback of the man and his fingers; oh, he knows how to work his fingers. Fuck! I need to put that out of my mind.

Quietly, I head into the kitchen and pull out a bottle of Jack. I unscrew the cap and down its contents, ignoring the burning sensation in my throat.

I'm going to need to drink away last night now, otherwise I'll actually miss that man when he leaves.

I hear the clearing of a throat in the doorway to the kitchen. Slowly, I turn to the man, who is leaning in the doorway of the kitchen.

"Hey, I'm heading out now. Just wanted to let you know in case you care," he says sheepishly. I simply down more Jack. He nods awkwardly, taking his leave.

————
Two weeks later

I hesitate to tell Susan the news. She smiles encouragingly, but it does nothing to settle the pit of nerves in my stomach.

Finally, I explain the whole story to her from meeting the guy at the bar to now. Her smile wavers, then turns into a frown.

"What did you say his name was?" She asks, circling her plastic straw around her water cup.

"I didn't ask. I just remember his flaming red hair and piercing eyes," I say, sighing defeatedly. Her frown deepens as she thinks about my situation.

"Let me get this straight, and correct me if I get anything wrong. You had a one-night stand with a hot dude with red hair and piercing eyes, a man whom you have no prior knowledge of, and you don't know his name. A week later, you fell ill mysteriously. Believing it to be alcohol poisoning, you went to the doctor, who confirmed seventeen reluctant times that you are actually pregnant. Holy shit," she says. I can only nod.  

"Fuck, you're in some tough shit right now." Susan sighs, leaning back in her chair.

"I'll help you where I can, but first, you have to find out who this guy is and tell him. Your baby is not going to end up like you, unknowledgeable of whom their father is," Susan says.

I exhale and nod slowly. Susan's right. And the guy deserves to know that he's a dad, whether he wants to be or not.

"I'll need your help to find him, though," I say. She rolls her eyes, smiling slightly.

"That's what I'm here for, dingus!"

————
A month later

Susan has managed to track down the man. His name is Axl Rose, he's the lead singer of Guns N Roses (how the hell did I not recognise him?), and I'm meeting him tonight.

In case Axl doesn't believe me, I have my sonogram picture and a pregnancy test. If he still doesn't believe me, then I have Susan for back-up.

I sigh, entering the club with Susan. Now that I'm knowledgeable about my pregnancy, I wouldn't normally be in a place like this, but this is the only place he could be.

I hold my breath as I enter, trying to repel the nicotine-riddled cigarette smoke from entering my lungs. Susan frowns, leading me to the bar.

"I know you can't drink, but this is the only way he'll notice you," she whispers. I nod, releasing my breath.

Susan smiles a small smile, patting my hand.

"You'll be alright. I'm right here with you," she says. I nod.

The bartender arrives, smiling widely at the two of us.

"And what can I get you two ladies tonight?" He asks, a smirk residing on his features.

"Give me a Jack, and this girl'll take a glass of water. She's only here to see her man," Susan says, half-lying about the last part. The bartender raises an eyebrow, but fulfils her request, placing a glass of water in front of me.

I smile gratefully, wrapping my hand around the glass. Susan thanks him, raising the bottle to her lips.

Susan sets the bottle down, checking out the place. Suddenly, her eyes widen, and she turns to me.

"He's coming this way," she says.

I begin to panic internally. What if he hates me after this? What if he doesn't believe me?!  Oh God, I might have this baby alone! It won't know its father! It—

"We meet again!" The red-haired man exclaims, a smirk resting on his lips. When I don't smirk in return, his smirk drops.

"What's the matter? Was I not good enough for ya?" He asks softly, genuinely worried that he didn't satisfy me well enough.

I let out a shaky laugh, which does nothing to ease the man. I take a deep breath, clutching my water tightly.

"You got me knocked up," I say, worriedly peering into his eyes for his reaction.

His eyebrows furrow, hands clenching and unclenching.

"We should talk about this outside," he says calmly. I swallow thickly, looking to Susan for support. She gives me a soft smile and motions to the door with her head. I nod, following the man outside.

He leads me to the corner of the building, which happens to be the mouth of an alley.

Finally, he turns to me, a look of fear in his eyes.

"Did I really knock you up?" He asks. I nod, reaching into my purse for the sonogram and test. When he sees them, his eyes tear up.

"Oh fuck," is all he says.

"Are you sure it's mine?" He asks, tears streaming down his cheeks. Once again, I nod.

"You're the only man I've slept with in the last three months. The last man I slept with used a condom. I didn't exhibit any signs of pregnancy until after our little rendezvous. I guess we forgot protection," I say quietly, feeling ashamed and somewhat pathetic.

The man nods, his hands shaking as he pulls the test and sonogram into his chest. He looks up to the sky, and he takes a deep breath. Then, he looks at me.

"Look, I'm not exactly the best man in the world, but, fuck, I'll do anything to help you with the baby," he says seriously. I nod.

"Listen to me: I'm going to fucking help you take care of our baby. I'll give you money, buy it food, buy it clothes, pay your rent—I'll do whatever the fuck it takes to help you out. You are not going to be alone in this. Fuck, I'll marry you if that's what it takes to help you out," he says, tears still streaming down his cheeks. At this point, I'm silently crying as well.

"But I want to make sure that you're okay with the last one first, so if I have to, I'll take you out a couple times to get to know you better. You get me?" He adds.

"I'd like that," I say. He smiles softly, peering into my eyes.

"I'm going to hug you, okay?" He asks.

"Okay."

And he hugs me.