wild side || tommy lee / motley crue

20. cold comfort

29/01/1984

Now let me just say, I physically had to find a replacement for Tommy. I've forced myself into repudiation in the context of me still being deeply attracted to him.

So to mend and bury my feelings for Tommy, I've been clinging on to Nikki like crazy. This entire predicament is a fucking dilemma that's eating my brain from the inside out.

Knowing my fantasies of Tommy and I occurring in my sleep will never ever come true, I've accepted the hard truth and compelled myself to move on as much as physically possible. Yes, I still fix my eyes at him for a mere moment every time I see him and have a chance of getting a glimpse of him, but I have got to act like there's nothing left for me to feel for him.

He's a nobody. Or so I thought.

"Val, wake up baby" I'm broken free from my never-ending conundrum of thoughts by a voice, it's tone being a mix of husky and raspy. 

It was my beloved boyfriend. Never thought I'd be able to say that.

"Morning, Nik" I rasp out, my voice barely audible as I had just woken up.

His strong arm snakes around my slim waist, sending shivers down my spine. I lay still as he lowers his face closer to the crook of my neck, attaching his lips to my soft pale skin.

Unfortunately, his kisses weren't ever so loving and passionate as what Tommy's used to be. They never were. His 'intimacy' was a mix of hunger and desire to take his few kisses way further to rough sex.

"Not right now, Nikki, I'm barely awake." I whine, shuffling in the mess of our sheets.

"I'll wake you up real good, how about that?" He asks, practically moaning into my ear.

These past few weeks, my everyday life has been a never ending cycle of sex, drugs, going out to party, getting back home and sex again. And it's draining me out. Really fucking bad.

Our eyes locked in a stare, his exhausted burnt out green hues filled with need staring into mine, he explores my facial features giving me a slight smile.

"You're gorgeous, you know that?" He asks me as I give him a pleased smile, shutting my eyes and letting him take over once again.

He makes his progress in making a mess of me, sucking on the skin of my jawline down to my collarbone. I let out a silent breathy moan at his hot touch.

He connects his lips with mine as I entwine both of my hands with his hair.

"I love you, baby" He tells me in between the deep heated kiss.

————

We lie next to eachother, our bodies a sweaty mess tangled inside of the sheets. His right arm firmly wrapped around my fragile body, the other fervently petting my silky blonde hair. We lay there in one another's comforting embrace for a long while until he opens his mouth to speak;

"I don't know what I'd do without you." He mumbles under his breath, his grip on my hair tightening.

I give him a soft hum as a response and shut my eyes, giving into the consoling moment.

-4 pm-

After having Nikki fuck me into complete and utter over-tiredness, I had fallen back asleep. I slept for several hours and when I finally regained consciousness, it happened to already be 4 in the afternoon. What the fuck am I actually doing with my life?

Nikki was gone from my side. He was nowhere to be found. I asked Vince, I asked Mick, and yes, I even asked Tommy. All of them were completely clueless.

Giving up on looking for him around the house, I decided to stay in for the day and have a long coke binge.

I make a beeline back to the door of my room, opening it and carelessly leaving it wide open. It'd be wholly useless to try hiding my addiction from the rest of the people living here because I know for a fact, they sure as shit aren't any better than me.

I rummage through the drawer next to my bed and take out my stash of drugs, picking out a miniature plastic baggie of cocaine that Vince had gotten me from his local dealer. Getting up from the ground as I was sitting next to my bed with my legs crisscrossed, I walked over to the other bedside table that had a whim of arbitrarily placed items on it, such as cards, crumpled dollar bills, makeup, an about approximately week old empty glass with remanence of whiskey at the bottom of it, an empty pack of cigarettes, several barely working lighters and an ashtray. I picked out a randomized card, no clue who it might've belonged to, and brought it back to the other side of the bed with me.

Placing the lower half of my body back on the ground, picking up a round dusty mirror from under my bed, I emptied the small baggie and started forming lines. The lines were as long as a river could go, and no, I did not even for a second doubt if my organism and system could handle this much coke.

When the lines were formed, I placed the mirror down and made a path to my begrimed vinyl player. Sorting through my collection of vinyl records, I chose out The Doors self-titled album. The second the first song started playing, I had already made a decision for what exact song I desired to listen to while getting myself knocked out on drugs.

I lifted the tonearm and manually skipped all of the songs on the album up until the last track came on. The End. Now, that's my jam.

I waltzed back to the side of my bed, carefully handled the mirror and sat on the soft mattress placed on top of the bed with some warm fluffy, cozy blankets. The song blared through—probably, the entire apartment as I contentedly snorted the drugs through my nose into my system. It didn't take long for it to kick in and though most of the time I'd either shoot or snort drugs to make a failing attempt at decreasing my paranoia and depression, this time was different.

I felt genuine satisfaction. Such satisfaction that you start to smile for yourself.