On With The Show

24

Nikki groaned, rubbing his temples as he tried to shake off the remnants of sleep. The room was filled with a soft glow from the early morning light filtering through the curtains. He glanced at the clock, realizing time was ticking away faster than Tommy's willingness to get out of bed.

"Get up," Nikki mumbled, giving Tommy a gentle shove. The response was a soft groan of protest as Tommy rolled away from the disturbance. Nikki sighed, frustration evident in his voice. "I mean it, Tom, we have the show tonight. I told you not to stay up sorting the cups. We stole them from that preppy coffee place you wanted to try; we're gonna chuck them anyway, they're fucking paper."

Tommy, still half-asleep, rolled over with his face buried in the pillow. "You didn't mind when you got extra marshmallows in your chocolate," he mumbled, his voice muffled. "I'm awake, but I don't wanna get off the bed. It's soft."

Nikki fell silent for a moment, then relented with a sigh, climbing into the bed. "Move over," he instructed, pushing Tommy towards the wall. Their limbs tangled together, creating a chaotic yet comfortable embrace. "Ten minutes, then we've got to get up, okay?" Nikki yawned, fingers interlacing with Tommy's. A small smile escaped Nikki's formerly serious expression as the warmth of the bed enveloped them.

"Hey Nik?" Tommy's brown eyes met Nikki's gaze. "You gonna wear those leather pants tonight? They look so good on you."

"Uh- We'll see," Nikki replied, biting the inside of his cheek, trying to conceal any sign of the blush he felt coming on.

*

"Lita let me borrow some lipstick; she said it would look good," Vince said, casually placing the makeup on the table. "Don't give me that look; she said it's for you guys too."

Mick, adopting his usual nonchalant demeanor, dismissed the concerns with a shrug. "You boys put it on. I don't like red - Hey!" He swatted away Tommy's hand, noticing a bit of glitter. "Is that glitter?" he wrinkled his nose in playful disbelief.

Nikki, seeking comfort in a familiar remedy, added with a chuckle, "Pass me the Jack, old man, I can't do this sober."

"Get it yourself, pretty boy."

Teasingly, Nikki turned to Vince, "You think I'm pretty?"

Vince's sigh cut through the banter as a gentle reminder of the impending responsibilities. "We have soundcheck soon, pretty yourselves up, or don't, I don't give a damn. But I'm not the only one that's gonna put this shit on!"

"Vince, chill, man - Tommy!"

Nikki's breath hitched as Tommy abruptly left the room. "What the heck - give me a minute; I'll get him."

*

Tommy closed his eyes - he didn't need this. Logically, he knew it was just the guys having fun, but the fighting, the fucking fighting... It was too much. He knew it wasn't real, but what did that matter? His stupid brain, stupid, stupid...

His arm jerked, reaching for his face. Oh, god he did not need this, not right now. Not with the guys about five fucking inches away... He squeezed his eyes shut - he could see it, them on the stage, lights bright, hot, burning at his skin. The crowd, their eyes spotting every flaw, every mistake, every misstep they made. His bandmates, his best - hell, only - friends, screaming at him for messing up. He would mess up, that was just... Inevitable.

Nikki - enigmatic, gorgeous Nikki - could get ANYONE, why would he want Tommy, an anxious mess that couldn't stop a 19 year old girl from making him miserable? Nikki would know, the world would know, they'd tear them apart the first chance they get. Hot tears fell down his face - he blew out a puff of air, squeezing his eyes shut. His heart beat like a drum - not the steady ones in marching band, or even rhythmically, hell, thunder had more order to it - it was like someone had handed a monkey a trash can lid, and given it free reign inside Tommy's skull .  Not the organized beats that marked time, but a dissonant cacophony that rebelled against any semblance of order. It was as if the drum had lost its sheet music, and the monkey inside gleefully improvised, creating a tumultuous symphony that resonated through every fiber of Tommy's being. Each beat felt like a rogue note, a wild drum solo that defied convention, an unpredictable cacophony that left Tommy's chest in pieces.

Tommy's hands flailed to hold himself up, grabbing at the wall - cold, hard, smooth, unforgiving. He closed his eyes, leaning his head back, suddenly feeling warmth on his cheek - rough hands, but gentle agains this skin. He exhaled slowly, "I'm okay," He lied, feeling the thumb rub him under the eye. "I'm -" He said again, cut off by a soft shushing. He heard something, leaning in - the scent comforting him as he leaned his  head down. "i'm oka-"

"It's okay. You're okay," He heard Nikki's voice, leaning in as he rested his head on his chest. "Whatever happens tonight, we're okay. It doesn't matter, none of it does, there's always the next one."

Tommy closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around him, the soft fabric of this shirt absorbing the residual tears. 

"We'll be okay. Let's just have fun tonight, alright? We'll celebrate after."

_________________

Hey!

It's been a while. Years, I think.

This chapter isn't my best work, but I posted it for the momentum. Editing the next chapter right now - I love you guys, all of you.