Looks That Kill (Nikki Sixx FanFic)

Not Again

I was in Paris at the photoshoot when tragedy struck. I knew something was wrong the moment Sarah rushed towards me, without any regard for the photographers who were now yelling at her for getting in the way of the shot.

"Ms. Rinaldi, please hurry! It's a medical emergency!" She sobbed.

My mind immediately flashed back to all those months ago when Mötley Crüe had played that sick prank on me, just to get me to race wheel chairs with them. Still, a familiar and overwhelming sense of fear surged through me, and I wondered if maybe something had finally happened this time.

Nikki.

"What's wrong, Sarah? What is it?" While grabbing her arms to try and calm her, I turned to the French photographers, all of whom were officially pissed at this point. My French wasn't very good, but I tried my best to explain. After all, this photoshoot was horribly important, and I was looking mighty unprofessional right about now. "Je suis désolé. Il y a eu un accident." (A/N: "I'm sorry. There has been an accident.")

The majority of the men and women dropped their cameras in understanding, but a few of them rolled their eyes at me. I hoped they would still give me a second chance. But right now, that wasn't my top priority.

My top priority was to get back to Nikki and make sure he was safe. Even if we hadn't spoken, I still cared about him. In a life or death situation, I wanted to be by his side.

"What's happening? Is he alright?" I demanded, returning my gaze back to Sarah. "Is Nikki okay?"

Her crying paused long enough for her to give me a confused look. "Nikki?"

I returned the look, my eye brows furrowing almost immediately. "That's what this is about right? Nikki is hurt."

Her mouth fell open slightly, her head slowly shaking as if to say 'no'. What? Now I was really confused.

"Bret. Bret is hurt," she clarified, still giving me a peculiar look.

My cheeks burned, and I sincerely hoped that nobody else had heard me, or if they had, that they really could only speak and understand French. How had I forgotten about my current boyfriend? How could I have been so dense?

"R-right," I stammered, trying to save face although it was probably too late at this point. I tried to wave away the awkward moment with a flick of my wrist. "What's happened? Is Bret okay?"

"He's in the hospital," she began, her lip quivering lightly as she spoke. "A piece of scenery on the stage hit his head during a performance. It doesn't look too good, Ms. Rinaldi. He has a fractured nose, a busted lip, and a brain hemorrhage."

My jaw dropped, and tears began to form in my eyes. A brain hemorrhage was a big deal, a very big deal. And here I was, worried that something horrible had happened to Nikki Sixx. I was a terrible girlfriend, and it looked as though my curse was still following me. Not only had I been more worried about Nikki than Bret, but now, I just might be the cause of his death.

"No," I croaked, trying to swallow the lump forming in my throat. "Not again."