1981 ☆ Motley Crue

1. London Burning.

Mixed with booze, and possibly a bit of coke, a band up on stage played at Whiskey A-Go-Go, one of the most famous clubs in America.
They played up there and enticed the audience, though they were way before their time. They came on the scene too early, way too early.
Though no one gave a fuckin' shit.
The year- 1980, only a year before Nikki Sixx - the bassist of the band would hit it big with his new band that he is yet to have lined up.

Glancing in the audience, he could see a few people digging it, while some older people just shook their heads in distaste which brought a smirk to stretch across his face.
Fuck yeah, he thought.

The night ended with Nikki getting punched in the face before stumbling out to some cafe and sitting down, holding a tissue to his nose and muttering curses to himself. Fuck fuck fuck. This shit blows.

He stared as some kid walked in, it was a girl. He looked at them and noticed they had their eyes on him, she glanced at him for a couple seconds, before finding a spot to sit down and staying there.
"What the fuck?" He whispered to himself, wondering who that was and why for some reason he felt a sense of familiarity when he looks at her.
He feels like he knows them, but he doesn't. Or at least, he doesn't think he does?

He stared at them for a few seconds longer before looking back to his small shot of Jack Daniels and downing it. 
Some scrawny kid came over and smiled, telling him how much of a fan he is of London. Oh, brother...

Watch this kids face fall when Nikki says the infamous "Take the poster down, London's over," line to him.
Tommy just stood there, before smiling and sitting across from him, "So, got another band?" Tommy asked, watching as Nikki looked through the recycler.
"No..." Nikki said, looking around on the magazine before circling a few with a red texta.

"So... Um, oh hey - that sounds cool!" Tommy smacked his drumstick against the "Loud, rude, and aggressive guitar player" speech on the recycler, Nikki smirked slightly and circled it.
"You always carry those?" He asked, "Yeah, kind of like my kids," Tommy smiled before twirling them around.

"See that kid?" Nikki pointed, "Yeah? Short blonde girl?" He asked, "She seems familiar, it's fuckin' weird," Nikki said, "Go talk to her, maybe you know her," Tommy smiled, looking at the bassist he idolized, "Ah fuck it," He said, moving the newspaper aside.

"Hey, 'scuse me," Nikki gently patted the girl's hand with his finger, she looked up at him - her eyes were bright green, just like his.

"Mm?" Her voice was tiny and had no power behind it, as if she was a timid mouse.
"What's your name? You look familiar," He hummed, looking into her eyes, "Star," She spoke, looking up at him, "Why?" She asked, he shrugged, "Just askin', see ya round, kid," He said and walked off, that scrawny drummer kid running right after him.