Kristen, a 23 year old struggling college student who just so happens to put herself through college being a stripper, crosses paths with the infamous newly sober Nikki Sixx. whom is exploring his new view of creativity. Nikki owes his old friend...
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Kristen had made it through her first week at Mötley records. She had skillfully avoided Nikki beside her first day there. When she would spot him in the hallway, she would turn and walk the other way, or when she heard his voice echoing throughout the building she would close her office door. If for some reason she needed to speak with one of the Mötley members, she would always go to Vince or Mick. This did not go unnoticed by Nikki, he knew what game she was playing. He knew getting her an internship here was a little desperate, but he truly did not know if he could have gone any longer without seeing her and hearing her beautiful laugh, no matter who was making her laugh.
Nikki often found himself spending more time at his studio than he did at home. It was putting stress on his marriage and family. He knew it and he almost didn't care. He wanted out of his marriage, Donna was never going to make him happy. She wasn't Kristen. He'd wander the halls of the studio trying to find excuses to be there just in case he ran into Kristen. But she tried her best to dodge him every chance she got.
Nikki was walking down the quiet hallways humming a tune to a song he couldn't get out of his head when he heard a string of curse words fill the hallway. He followed the sounds to where they were coming from, Kristen's office. Her door was open and soft music was playing while she was banging something on her desk. He poked his head in to see her banging her stapler on her desk, eventually giving up and throwing it on the floor and dropping her face in her hands.
"I don't think banging that stapler is going to make it work Kris," He said lowly but loud enough for her head to snap up. When her eyes zeroed in on him her face turned stone cold.
"Out. I want you out." She stood and started marching for the door to shut, but he stepped in before she made it to him. Nikki gave her a sly smile as he planted himself on the couch that was placed in her office. Kristen was left standing by the door with a scowl on her face. Nikki leaned back and put his hands behind his head, getting comfortable.
"You never did thank me for getting you this sweet internship sweetheart." Kristen rolled her eyes at him, crossing her arms and staying in her place by the door.
"Out Nikki." She demanded again and Nikki just shook his head at her, refusing to listen. Kristen watched as his eyes scanned her small office decorations, a small smile forming on his face. Kristen sucked a deep breath in and looked up to the ceiling before she reluctantly walked and sat on the opposite side of the couch from Nikki. He watched as she crossed her legs, avoiding eye contact with him. He wanted to reach out and hold her hand but he knew she would yank it away.
"I miss you," Kristen mumbled so softly that Nikki almost missed it. Kristen surprised herself admitting out loud so easily. He snapped his head over to her waiting to see if he imagined her saying that. She slowly turned her head to meet eyes with Nikki, her cheeks red from embarrassment. Nikki started scooting closer to her making her stiffen up at the close proximity between the two. The two were so close now that Nikki could hear Kristen's uneven breaths and smell her perfume. He was too scared to speak, scared that he'd spook her like she was a wild animal. His eyes traveled to her knee where she was vigorously tapping her pink-painted fingers, her rings moving with every tap. His hand started itching for hers and before he could stop himself he was reaching for it, sudden contact caused Kristen to spring up from her spot with a small gasp. She looked at him from where she now stood, his eyes wide with confusion. She rubbed her clammy hands on her skirt and turned to walk back to the door and held it open while looking at Nikki to follow what she was instructing him to do.
