𝗦𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗮𝗹 🤍

•𝗗𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗠𝗮𝗿𝘀•

•💧•

Nikki's POV, 5th October 1988

Yo, so... today's made me want to sink into a deep deep hole. We've just finished our first session recording the demos for the new album and I can't even begin to tell you how awkward it was. Like fuck.

I swear, literal ice crystals began forming on the walls the atmosphere was that icy- Vince and I didn't speak a word to one another as much as I wanted too, he wasn't giving me the time of day.

Tommy kept looking at me sympathetically while also looking rather confused like he knew what had happened but didn't know entirely why and I wouldn't be surprised if he did, I know he and Vince were meant to have spent the day together the other day doing DIY... whether Vince went or not I'm not sure but they must have spoken in some context because I'm sure by the way Tom's looking at me he knew, he had too.

It sucked, Bob Rock, who was producing this album with us kept asking me and Vince if we were okay, sensing the tension between us- we'd met with him a few times before now to get to know him and discuss basic ideas and budgeting- that kinda thing, Vin and I were still together then so it's definitely a far cry from how we were back when those meetings took place- then we couldn't keep our hands off one another and now we could hardly stand in the same room.

The tension between us though hadn't affected the music as of yet which was a relief, I just hoped it didn't manifest when we were recording final versions of the songs.

I've been having a hard time though with the way Vince has been treating me over the last few days with the band meeting at Tommy's house and even today, right now, having the man I love look at me like he'd rather see me dead than standing in the same room as him is doing shit to me.

I've spent days in an internal battle with the sober half of my brain and the half of my brain which is begging for me to end this pain by sticking a needle into my veins.

That side of my head, that little voice almost won... last night I was literally sat in my bedroom staring at the phone on my bedside table ready to ring my old dealer and give up everything again for drugs, it went as far as me picking up the phone and dialling the first three digits of his number before I realised what I was about to do and freaked the fuck out.

I ended out calling my drugs councillor instead in a complete state of panic but he wasn't much help either seems as I couldn't tell him the whole story- I just bullshitted that I'd been seeing a girl for a few months and she broke it off with me and it's fucked me up, it was as close to the truth as I could admit- he didn't know I was gay, he certainly didn't know about my relationship with Vince. I couldn't risk him finding out in case he leaked it to the press and all this shit would have been for nothing anyway.

It made rehab hard too, cause you have to state all your regrets about things you did when on drugs- Vince was my biggest regret, choosing drugs over him I mean, not spending as much time with him as I should have done, not loving him like he deserved, all of that I've kinda touched on already so won't bore you or scar you with details.

Any therapy where they asked us about personal relationships I had to lie, so did Vince... we snook into each other's rooms and bitched to one another about how we wished we could tell the truth but being unable to do so.

I'm really struggling to remain clean with the tension and pure hate and anger Vince is radiating towards me. Having him hate me is something I never wanted but I should have expected it, shouldn't I?