"SHATTERED SILENCE" IZZY STRADLIN
(this one has been in my drafts for months...I really over exaggerated with this one 😭)
Izzy Stradlin had always prided himself on his calm demeanor. The one who didn’t get rattled, the one who let things roll off his back, but tonight, everything felt different. The studio session had been long, draining, and he hadn’t been able to shake the exhaustion that clung to him as he walked through the door. He was hoping for peace, a quiet moment to unwind. But instead, he was met with you, standing there in the living room, arms crossed, eyes cold with frustration.
The second you saw him, the air in the room seemed to shift. "Where the hell have you been, Izzy?" Your voice wasn’t just angry—it was raw, trembling with a pain he hadn't expected.
Izzy paused, irritation bubbling inside him. "I was at the studio, Y/N. I told you I’d be there."
"You've been 'at the studio' for days, Izzy!" You snapped back, your voice shaking with emotion, the hurt evident in every word. "Days. You promised me it wouldn’t be like this, that you wouldn’t vanish into your band, your music, and leave me here to just *wait* for you!"
Izzy’s stomach churned. "I didn’t vanish, I’m right here," he muttered, but his own words felt hollow, empty. It didn’t matter that he had just come from working for hours; he could see the pain in your eyes, and it was like a knife to his chest.
"Yeah, well, *where the hell have you been*?" you shot back, your voice cracking with frustration. "You’re physically here, but you’re never really *here*, Izzy. I don’t even know who you are anymore. I don’t know who I’m even talking to anymore."
Izzy could feel his temper rising, but he pushed it down, trying to keep his cool. But something snapped. "I’m doing the best I can, Y/N! I can’t be everything to you. I’ve got a life, I’ve got a career, and I’ve got my own shit to deal with too!"
The words left his mouth faster than he could stop them, and as soon as they did, he regretted them. He saw the way your face fell, the light in your eyes dimming. You flinched, stepping back from him, as though the words physically struck you.
"You’re right," you whispered, so softly that Izzy almost didn’t hear it. "You *can’t* be everything to me, Izzy. But you promised me, you promised me you’d be here when I needed you. And where are you? Where have you been all this time? I’ve been so damn *alone*!"
Izzy felt his chest tighten, the weight of everything crashing down on him. You were right. You had been alone. And he had been too caught up in everything else to notice how far he was pulling away from you. He wanted to say something, to fix it, to apologize—but the words tangled in his throat.
"You don’t get it, do you?" you continued, your voice rising. "You’ve been so caught up in your own world, in your own head, that you can’t even see what’s right in front of you. You don’t see me anymore. You don’t see *us*."
Izzy's frustration boiled over. "And what the hell do you want from me, Y/N?" The words were sharp, louder than they should have been. "I’m doing what I can. You think I *want* to spend all my time away from you? You think I *want* to be stuck in this chaos, but this is my life! This is what I do!"
The moment the words left his mouth, he saw your face change. The anger melted into something far worse—disappointment. Hurt. You stepped back, shaking your head as tears welled up in your eyes, and Izzy realized then that he had crossed a line, one he couldn’t come back from.
"You think this is all just *your* life, Izzy?" you whispered, the pain in your voice cutting deeper than anything he had ever heard. "You think you’re the only one living it? I’ve been here, *waiting*, trying to understand, but I’m not going to keep begging for your attention, your love. You’ve made me feel invisible for so long now. And I can’t do it anymore."
Izzy’s heart pounded in his chest. He had never felt so damn lost. "Y/N—"
"Don’t," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. "Don’t you dare act like you care now. I don’t even know if you do anymore. Maybe I’m just a convenience to you when you’re done with your band and your career. Maybe that’s all I ever was."
A chill settled in the room, the silence hanging heavily between you two. Izzy tried to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come. He could feel it—the distance between you, growing wider with every second, every breath.
You wiped your eyes furiously, but you didn’t let him stop you. "I’m done, Izzy. I’m done waiting. I’m done being an afterthought. I can’t keep doing this."
Before he could even process it, you turned and stormed toward the door. "Y/N, wait!" Izzy called out, his voice panicked, but it was too late. The door slammed shut behind you, and in that instant, Izzy felt something inside him crack.
He stood there, frozen, heart heavy in his chest, as the weight of everything hit him. He had yelled at you, made you feel small, and in doing so, he had pushed you away. He was so damn selfish, so caught up in his own world, that he had ruined everything.
The apartment felt suffocating, empty. The quiet that followed your departure was deafening, and Izzy’s heart ached as he realized that, for once, his music, his career, his distractions… none of it mattered anymore. You were gone.
Izzy sank onto the couch, his mind reeling, his hands trembling. He should have done more. He should have cared more. But now, it was too late.
And all he had left was the painful, bitter echo of his own mistakes.
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