Karma's Happenstance Part 2 (Nikki Sixx/OC/Guns n Roses)

Build ups

Somewhere at a skanky bar.

3. May 1988

Nikki's POV

We're seven days into the tour. GNR has already done six shows. I'm fucking exhausted even though I'm doing shit. I feel so fucking useless.

Being on tour and not able to play is killing me. Who the fuck came up with this stupid idea anyway? Oh, yeah. I did. Great job, Nikki.

We're currently somewhere between Michigan and Ohio in a bar called... I have no fucking clue what the name of the bar is but I still know where I am. This is an improvement I guess. Still, being the fucking manager sucks and I'm so fucking bored, I can't help thinking about getting back to the bus and just get high. But here I am at this trash dump of a bar at Truck stop in the middle of nowhere, babysitting the band.

Worst thing about this? I have no real fucking intention of getting high. All I can think about is Amy and her conversation with MJ.
Please, let somebody just kill me.

Before the next show tomorrow, we're having a rare night off. And we're at a fucking truck stop. Great. But when you're on the road, glamour doesn't come into it sometimes. This is not fucking Mötley Crüe. These guys still need to earn it.

And I'm stuck with them. I fucking hate my life. Sitting at the bar all alone, I glance at Amy and MJ. They are playing pool while the guys are enjoying their selves with a shitload of booze and skanky chicks. Why the hell am I sitting at the bar drinking alone?

Right, I feel like a fucking outsider here. I don't used to care about this shit. It's fucking annoying to feel like this.

Raising my shot, I glance at Amy again. She wiggles her ass as she bends forward and aims for a shot. Damn, this chick is fucking killing me.
Every fucking time I think she's finally ready to give into me, she's avoiding me for days.

My mood is at a new low and those damn rednecks, which are hitting on her since we got here, aren't helping either. I gulp down my Jack and sign the barkeeper to fill up. This is going to be a fucking long night.

I'm maybe five or six shots of Jack in, drowning another, when a blonde chick slides onto the empty seat beside me.

"You know, you look exactly like Nikki Sixx." She purrs while she presses her fake tits against my arm.

I roll my eyes at that comment but still give her a nod, "Heard that a couple of times before, honey."

She backs off a little to take a good look at me. I'm drowning another shot. No way in hell I'm going to get back to the bus alone tonight. It's about fucking time I work myself through this shit.

Fuck Yakinamundo and his fucking drink. I need to find my inner asshole again. I give that blonde bombshell one of my typical smirks and I can see exactly when the penny drops.

"You're not really Nikki Sixx, aren't you?" She whispers, covering her mouth with her hand to muffle the squeaking sound that's leaving her throat. It makes me squirm. These kind of chicks are just too easy.

I gulp down another shot and nod. She actually turns pale for a second before she's all over me. Her hands are in my hair, her tongue in my ear and she's close to dry humping me on this fucking bar stool.

I've actually never been so turned off in my whole life.
Fuck! What is fucking wrong with me? I used to fuck those kind of chicks all the time.

I glance at Amy again and see her drinking and laughing with those damn rednecks.
The hell with Amy! I need to get this shit out of my system and finally be normal again.
I drown my last shot and jump to my feet, dragging the blonde with me.