Nikki Sixx prys himself on being in the sleaziest dirtiest rock band Motley Crue. He is considered the bad boy of Rock 'n Roll and has a reputation that proves it. He meets the highest-paid fashion model in the world, Iman Darlington who is the comp...
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I knocked on the door to the guest bedroom that Nikki was in. I waited until I heard him say come in. "Hey." I smiled like a schoolgirl closing the door behind me.
"Hey, you." He placed the phone down.
"You, okay?"
He breathed out. "Yeah, just Motley stuff. Tommy wanted me to come over to his house. But I told him I was away."
"Does he know about us?"
"Nah, I didn't tell him yet. I'm going to though. You have my word." He assured. "But um... he just wanted to do some last-minute work for the album."
"So does that mean the album will be done on time?" I asked feeling hopeful.
"No, we still got press, and we have to come up with the artwork, and we still have some mixes to do as well-."
"Seriously Nikki... why do you guys have to do all of that over the holidays? You've never done that before?"
"Because before we were always prepared and ready to release our albums. This time it's different. A lot is going on with Motley. With John, Tommy, management, our record label. And Vince."
"Vince?" I panicked a bit.
"A long story for another time. There's a lot to do Mani. And we're behind schedule. We have a release date, and we need to make sure the album is done by then. And on top of that, Tommy's having problems with Pam. And then there's his baby. So, there's just so much shit happening."
"What! Tommy had a baby?"
"Oh right, I didn't tell you. Yeah, they named him Brandon. After Marlon Brando."
"Did you see him?"
"Yeah, he's a cute little guy." He smiled. "Both their families were there."
"How's Pam?"
"She was in labor for seventeen hours. They did a bathtub birth upstairs in their master bedroom."
"Wow." I gasped. "She didn't want to go to the hospital?"
"Nope. He said she preferred doing that. Tommy even pulled his baby's head out and cut the umbilical cord. Then as soon as he was born, he went downstairs and wrote a whole song about him on his piano. He called it Brandon."
"Well good for him. I remember he wanted children with Heather."
"Yeah." He pulled his legs up to his chest and wrapped one arm around them.
I could tell he was thinking deeply. And I know exactly what was running through his head.
