Who The Hell Are Mötley Crüe

Run Away, Kid Drummer, Old Man, Cover Band Singer

~A Run Away~

He finally did it. His 21st birthday. Frank Carlton Serafino Feranna Jr is finally dead. A knife to the wrist so deep it almost hit bone. He'd gone looking for Ghosts and failed in his mission.

Nikki woke up in the hospital by himself, arm wrapped up to save the stitching from being torn out. "Frank Feranna?" The nurse asked as she walked into the room. Nikki dead stared her. If he was an alpha, she would be dead.

"Frank Feranna is fucking dead" he bites out in spite and that's the last time anyone used that name.

That day was the birth of the Infamous Nikki Fucking Sixx.

After releasing himself from the hospital he'd taken himself straight to legally change his name and break the last connections he had from the life before.

He was gonna start fresh, needed to, at least he wanted to. He started a new band and they quickly set the sunset strip on fire.

London was going places.

At least that's what he through before the lead singer broke his nose. Nikki had caught eye of the young brunette beta who he'd seen in the audience at their other shows before accidentally missing a beat causing the lead singer to get pissed.

It leaded to a huge fight on stage that ended up with him being here.

~December 26th 1980~

The bass player spits out the remaining blood before leaning against the bathroom sink, trying to clean himself up. "That was so cool, baby." A voice whispers from behind him. It was a young blonde, probably about 17 or 18. She had made her way into the men's room, knowing she would be alone with the ravenette.

"Fuck off" He growls out not even looking at the woman. She's hot, there was no doubt there, but he really isn't in the mood for some B class whore today.

"Nikki right?" She asks batting her eyes trying to seduce him.

"How you know that?" He says finally turning to meet her gaze with a pissed off look on his face.

"My boyfriend is a big fan of yours" she admits. "He's got your poster on his wall" If Nikki was in the right frame of mind he would have laughed but all he wants to do is hideaway in a room not caring about anything or anyone and that's exactly what he is gonna do.

"Tell him to take it down. London's over. And whilst you're there why don't you go fuck him. I have better things to do than you whore." He Bites out before storming out the bathroom and back into the party.

The rest of the night just gets worse and worse for the bassist. After almost drinking into himself into an early coffin again he rolls back to his shitty old apartment and starts writing.

Music is his passion and he swears his next band will be insane, a band that will rip the throat out of the music industry.

The bassist wakes about 5pm the next day and starts his day with a line of coke and the last half full bottle of Jack which he'd left on the floor next to his bed.

Then the phone rings. He doesn't answer, far to out of it to care. Then the answering machine goes off. "Hey Frankie. It's Mum..." he breaks the machine by pouring the alcohol over it before he throws the bottle of Jack into the opposite wall shattering the bottle.

What does she want now. It's very rare that she would call but when she did, it just gives Nikki another reason to push the limits of how many drugs he could consume until that moment death hits him. He's come close a few times but never over the edge.

Nikki isn't going to give up just because his queen bitch of a mother called him once again out of the blue. He leaves the house as quickly as possible and makes his way to the starwood.