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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When Randy Castillo joined Motley Crue to replace Tommy as the drummer, I was relieved. He had such a calm energy about him, the kind that softened a room even when it felt like it was burning down. He was talented too, of course. He had this effortless flow behind the drums, like his rhythm lived in his bones. Watching him play reminded me of what music was supposed to feel like. Everyone seemed to respect him right away. Even Vince, who could be pretty skeptical of anyone new. For a little while, I thought maybe, just maybe, this new chapter would spark something good in Nikki. After all, the band had just won their freedom. They owned their music. They were writing again. Everything Nikki once told me he wanted was right there in front of him. But instead of peace, it was like he was sinking.
I started to see little changes in Nikki. Subtle things at first. He stopped waking up early to make coffee with me like he used to. He skipped out on bath time with Julius. And when he was home, it was like he wasn't there. He would stare at the wall like he was watching something nobody else could see, then suddenly snap out of it and start ranting about the band, about Tommy, about how nothing was fair. I'd try to talk to him, but he'd brush me off or lash out. Sometimes, he'd apologize afterward, but the apologies started sounding like scripts. He was unraveling. And no one could reach him. Not even me.
We started fighting more. Stupid things became big things. A misheard sentence, a dish in the sink, a look. It was all fuel for a fire Nikki refused to put out. He wasn't sleeping. He'd toss and turn, get up, and write lyrics at 3 a.m. with this stormy look on his face. I tried to hold space for him, but I did. But I was tired too. I was growing a human inside of me again. My back hurts. My head hurts. And my heart ached watching the man I loved act like a ghost trapped in a rage. Sometimes, I'd cry in the shower, quietly, where Julius wouldn't hear me. Other nights, Nikki wouldn't even come to bed. I'd hear the soft plucking of his bass downstairs while I stared at the ceiling.
He snapped at Mick during a session the other day over something small. A chord progression. Mick didn't even react. He just raised his eyebrows and kept playing. Vince tried to defuse the moment, but Nikki turned on him, too. He said something about everyone being lazy, about how they didn't care about the music anymore. I stood off to the side, holding Julius, watching the band that had been through hell and back with Nikki, now tensing every time he opened his mouth. The way he spoke about Tommy... it was obsessive. He couldn't let go of the betrayal. Couldn't stop checking interviews, blogs, whatever. It was eating him alive. And I was starting to wonder if he was going to let it eat us too.
I left one night. Packed a bag for Julius and me and drove to Theresa's. I didn't even tell Nikki at first. I just needed quiet. I needed to be somewhere I could breathe. Theresa welcomed us with open arms, no questions. I told her everything later, over cups of mint tea, while Julius slept in her guest room. She said I was doing the right thing. Protecting my peace, protecting the baby. And she was right. I could feel it inside me. That little flutter. That new life was growing while everything around me felt like it was falling apart. I didn't want to resent Nikki. But if I stayed, I might.
