wild side || tommy lee / motley crue

15. trust

13/10/1982

-valentina's pov-

I opened my eyes for what felt like the first time in years in a familiar looking room. I stared at the ceiling, unmotivated to move or do anything, up until I see a figure appear by the side of my bed. The room was almost entirely dark, moonlight shining in from between the white—almost grey dust-covered blinds.

I finally fully regain concentration after laying there for a while and turn my head, getting a good glimpse of who exactly was standing right beside me. Ended up being the last person I would've ever expected, Tommy.

I squint my eyes at him, assuming it's a delusion since I often experience that, but no.

"Morning?" I grunt, sitting up in the bed.

"It's night." He tells me in a low tone and sits back on the chair next to the bed I'm laying in.

Was I in trouble? What in the actual hell could he possibly want from me to be standing here?

I look around the room and realize that I'm in his room laying on his bed. I get slightly embarrassed by that, having no clue of what brought me to wind up in here.

"Where is everyone else?" I ask him, stretching out my arms.

"It's 2 am, they're still out clubbing somewhere." He replies, looking down on the ground.

"Why aren't you with them?" I ask again, genuinely curious.

He looks up at me in the dark light and lets out an exhausted loud sigh.

"Well, I know I hate you but I wouldn't just leave an unconscious girl alone in this place. Nobody deserves that. Not even you." He confesses, fiddling with his hands, letting his anxiety show through.

A moment of silence passes by and is interrupted by my question;

"What happened to me?" I look away from him and at the wall, slightly rubbing my eyes.

"I don't think you want to know." He tells me as he leans back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling.

At this point, I get a little worried and start expecting the worst so I state the obvious,, "Seriously Tommy, tell me the truth."

"Nikki knocked you out at the hotel. You were bleeding and I felt bad." He confesses with a deep sigh at the end of his statement.

Ouch. These words felt like a knife to my back. How could the one person I felt most safe with do this to me?

I don't bother responding, I just set my head down low, leaning onto my knees. Silently shedding a tear or two because of how depressing this situation feels.
Is there anyone out here who I can really trust? Who won't knock me the fuck out at a fucking hotel?

"Hey, it's okay, you know? What you did back at my wedding was fucked and I won't say I forgive you for that but I wouldn't ever hurt you." He starts caressing my back, making a shitty attempt at comforting me.

At this moment I felt completely hopeless. Lost, even. Lost in my own thoughts and in my own world, nothing even felt real anymore. I wish I could just go back to my old lifestyle. I used to call the feeling I would feel deep down in my core back in my modeling days depressing. If that was depressing, then I don't know what the fuck this is.