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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"Okay, so we need to unpack all these boxes." I breathed out, stretching my body out.
"Are you okay?" He asked with concern.
"Yes, Nikki, for the thousandth time I'm fine."
"I was asking the baby."
He chuckled as I threw a shirt at him.
"You don't know how many things you have until you start moving."
"I mean, you don't need everything. You can easily donate some of these things." He motioned towards some of the boxes. "I mean you have these same heels but in different colors." He picks up one of my many vintage stilettos.
"Uh yeah no." I snatched it from him. "Nikki these were made specifically for me by Vivienne Westwood. Look at them!" I grinned.
"Yeah, I am. And the many other pairs you have in there. Mani really, you don't need seven pairs of the same shoes with different colors."
"And you don't need fifty bass guitars. You use about five. So why don't you get rid of the rest."
"Bass guitars aren't like heels. Some of those are collectibles. And some of them I've had since the eighties, and they can't be made again. So, I keep them for memory or trading."
"How bout this, why don't you worry about your things, and I'll worry about mine," I said with a hint of attitude.
"Okay, you can lose the attitude, Mani."
"Well then stop telling me to throw my designers away. They mean a lot to me just like your bass guitars mean a lot to you."
"I didn't say to throw them away. I said donate them-"
"Did Donna get her half of the money yet?" I cut him off not wanting to talk about my heels or guitars.
"Yeah, she did." He said with a sad tone. "Mani-"
Knock knock.
We turned to see one of the moving guys by the door.
"Hey, we brought more boxes from the old house. We're gonna bring them in?"
"Okay," Nikki responded. "Mani-"
"You should probably go down and help them." I cut him off again then turned my back to him and rummaged through the boxes that were in front of me.
I heard Nikki sigh and get up.
"Can you take these up?" I heard Nikki say to the guys.
I heard their footsteps coming upstairs. Then saw them pass by the room I was in and drop the boxes down in the hallway.
Packing and unpacking was extremely exhausting. Nikki and I had to start by decluttering and packing room by room at his old house. We got sturdy boxes and retaped them; we labeled them clearly and took them downstairs to the main floor to put them in the truck with the moving companies' help. Then when they brought the boxes to our new house we had to unpack.
