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

The things we do for love

Quebec, Kanada
Opening for Iron Maiden
16. May 1988

Amy's POV

Okay. So Nikki is not avoiding me. He's not ignoring me. He's actually really nice to me.
Which is good, right? It's what I wanted, right?
Well, it should be good. But it's not.
Because he's way too nice. Too motherfucking nice. Well mannered.
Basically, not the Nikki I know.

There hasn't been any joking or flirting. No attempts at getting me alone.
Nothing.
For fucking five days!
Nothing.

And let me just say that this is driving me fucking nuts. He's driving me fucking nuts. Slowly.
Every time I walk into a room and he's there, he gives me a polite smile.
And if he's alone, he'd stand up and just walk out. I feel like I've some kind of contagious disease or something.

At first I thought this was just some of his sick games, trying to wear me down until I'll finally give in to him.
But after day three, I realized that he really might have given up on me.

How? Because he slowly transformed back into that asshole rockstar I'd met first.
But I told myself it was okay and I wanted to be left alone. He's doing exactly what I asked him for.
So that's good, right?

Only that it doesn't feel good. I don't want this.
I want Nikki Sixx back!
I've been drunk quite a few times. But I never started drinking with the pure intention of getting drunk. To be exactly: to get so fucking drunk that I either pass out and feel nothing or maybe get perfectly sane again. But I still doubt that. But it's worth trying, right?

So, I walk up to the bar and slam a fifty down.
"Jack! And keep them coming." I say to the bartender, a nice blonde surfer dude with a nice smile.

This doesn't do anything to me!
Would Nikki give me a smile like that, I'd be ready to jump him right here and then.
I'm so fucking screwed.
I'm through almost half a bottle when a figure walks up and sits down beside me.

Wait? Did I really drink that much? No way. This is total bullshit. This surfer dude is ripping me off for sure.

"Hey, sweetheart. What's your name?" The guy next to me asks.

He's looking good. Really. I guess.
I'd see him better if he'd just stop being so blurry all the fucking time.

"Amyyyyyyy" I slur and can't help but giggle.
I never thought it was possible to slur my name.

"Hey Amy." He says with a crooked smile. "Wanna have some fun?"

Whatever that cute guy has in mind, count me in. I really need some fun to erase that black haired rockstar from my fucking mind. It's not like there aren't other fish in the sea, right?

I nod, "Hell, yeah."

Nikki's POV

Where the fuck did that son of a bitch take her? What the fuck was she thinking? She could get any fucking guy she wanted around here, why some fucking Roadie? Those guys are like fucking carnivalworkers. They live the rock star life with the dope and shit, they just  have no fucking talent or fame. Goddamn her. I can't believe she left with that fucker.

I'm frantically searching rooms, but I can't fucking find her. It's really quiet and I don't hear a fucking thing that sounds like her. Shit that bastard probably already has his dick in her. Fuck where the fuck is she!!! I keep searching in what seems like will be a futile effort. Fuck I've got to find her. I'm scared as shit. I'm like freaking out and worried she left the stadium. Maybe she's on the roadie bus.

As I'm looking for the exit to the busses I come to a locker room I hadn't tried yet. I shove the door open and my heart hits the goddamn floor. Amy is laid out on a bench, shirtless, no bra, and that sick fuck is hovered over her fucking arm with a needle in it. I quickly rush in and grab him from behind. I hurl him into the wall and quickly assess the damage done to Amy. She's passed out. I place my hand on her chest to make sure she still had a fucking heartbeat.