Mutually Assured Destruction

Two: Attention, Affection

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Ruby loved being under the red lights.

She was Mexican and Japanese, a tiny, bronzed, energetic spitfire with wide hips and impossibly long legs. Legs that drove men from all over California to see in the flesh. And after hours on the 405 for a long L.A. weekend, flesh was exactly what they wanted. They'd line up and lay down hundreds for her to crawl into their laps, wrap her long athletic legs around their necks and writhe on top of them. And Ruby wasn't the only one drawing a crowd; Seventh Veil was home to some of the most sought after women in Los Angeles. Between Ruby, Roxanne, Alexis, Lola, Kenzie and Jade, the headlining girls of Seventh Veil were just as well known, if not moreso, than the boys in the bands that they all dated. In their big cars, with their big hair, they commanded the strip, bringing in money, men and any excess they could ever want.

Naturally there was a cover charge.

"C'mon, what about $10? I got a 10." Nikki pleaded with the bouncer, a tall, muscular man named Rob who wore all black and had a tattoo of a shark on his neck.
"How you gonna afford to tip these girls if you can't even get in the door, kid?" If it were anyone else, Rob would've had Nikki out on his ass for talking him down to half price. But Nikki had been coming around for as long as Ruby had been working there; all the boys in Motley Crue had. The rock n' roll of the strip had quickly become the lifeblood of the clubs. He knew Nikki was trouble, but not the kind of trouble he would ever have to worry about.
"I'm gonna tip, I'm just not gonna be here for too long is all. One dance and I'm out, I swear."
"Nikki! Please. Spare me the sob story. You could have any of these girls all over you for free anytime you want. Why are you trying to pay for a lap dance?"
Nikki sighed and tried to look inside over Rob's shoulder. He couldn't see past the obnoxious fake smoke that fogged up the entryway.
"I just gotta talk to Ruby."
"Yeah?" Rob laughed. "You and 'bout every other red blooded male in California. She making you pay for it all of a sudden?"

"I don't pay anyone for shit, man. Look, this is the only place I can talk to her without her trying to fucking kill me. I got a show tonight anyway, I swear I'm in and I'm out."

Nikki held two fingers up. Rob shrugged and lifted the red velvet rope separating the two of them.
"You got an hour."
"You fucking rock, man."

Through the plaster Arabian palace archway and neon signage, Nikki made for the bar. If this conversation were going to go the way he wanted it to, he'd need their tallest, cheapest shot. Leaned against the bar top, Roxanne was on her break, sipping a diet coke and flipping through a copy of Cosmopolitan. "Nikki?" Her melodic voice called over to him. She smiled and waved him over with a manicured hand. Roxanne was a tall, slim strawberry blonde with big blue eyes and big tits. She wore white cowboy boots and a red one piece with blue and white fringe, a costume she'd come up with for her "American Woman" number that Tommy really loved. He also loved her freckles. Nikki wrapped her in a short hug and let his hand rest on her hip. "Hey Roxanne."
"You haven't been here in a while, Nikki! Where've you been? Making Tommy wander out all on his own!" She had a sweet, southern accent that always made him smile.
"I'm sure Tommy's doing just fine without me."
"We make sure he has fun out here." She giggled and sucked down nearly half her diet coke, letting out a tiny burp. It made sense that her and Tommy got on as well as they did. "Does Ruby know you're here?"
"Not yet. Was hoping to chill out a little bit before talking to her."
"You comin' to apologize?"
"Apologize for what?" He gave her a shy grin.
"Oh c'mon, Nikki. You're on the shit list and you know it. She told us all about what you did."

"She did?" He winced.

"Been talkin about it since she got here." She went behind the bar and poured him a tall glass of Jack and Coke. "On the house. You're gonna need it."
"Is she that mad?" He took the mixing straw and tossed it in the trash, taking a big swing instead.
"Boot in the head didn't let you know?"
"Okay. Point taken. I'm an asshole."
"Just say you're sorry, Nikki. It's not a big word. She'll forgive you."
"Where's she at?"
"On stage, dummy." Roxanne giggled and pointed behind him.

Ruby was crawling down the catwalk towards the tip bar where a cute blonde boy held two twenties in the air. The room was full, men talking and laughing, pinching Alexis or Lola on their asses as they worked the room while Ruby danced. She wore a studded red leather harness on top of a black g-string pulled high up above her ass and a black satin bra. Her strappy black stilettos brought her tiny 5'3 frame to 5'7 and her long black ponytail, teased up high made her look even taller. Up in lights, she unfolded herself into a split to "Slave" by the Rolling Stones. She tucked the boys money into her g-string and fell back into him, laughing and wriggling in his lap. Next to him, his drunk friend howled and threw a handful of ten dollar bills on her chest. She pulled herself up on stage and spun around on the pole before pulling her bra down to reveal a set of black sequined pasties. She fell down into another split, tossing her bra at the high tippers.

Nikki stood back and watched her. He'd seen her dance plenty of times before; they met outside three years ago trying to buy drugs from each other. Nikki always loved seeing a hot woman dance, but something about watching Ruby specifically was fun for him. She danced the same way she played music. When she took the stage, she showed something vulnerable and something wild that he'd never seen in a woman. Raised to adhere to strict social conservatism, Ruby was brought up in the elite high society of Manhattan. It was a complete accident that, while attending an all girls boarding school, she was introduced to Black Sabbath and AC/DC records. Every Tuesday after her SAT prep, Ruby's mom paid a 19 year old college student to teach Ruby classical piano. In reality, she was learning to play 'Crocodile Rock' and memorizing the names of singers in metal bands. In no time, she was sneaking out to meet punk boys at hip, underground parties in Brooklyn where she saw bands like the Stooges and the Ramones. It was when the Germs toured through the city that a young Lorna Doom handed off a copy of California punk zine Flipside to Ruby. After that, she became obsessed with maps of Los Angeles and would harass the local record store to bring in X tapes every time she went in. When she turned 17, a boy she was dating put on a copy of a barely formed Black Flag's single Nervous Breakdown.

"Holy shit."

They were angry, they were weird and they were unlike anything she'd heard before. She packed her bags and sold her bike to buy a Greyhound ticket across the country. Seventh Veil was the first place that would take in a skinny 18 year old with no home, no references and no clue. After being at an all girls school for so long, she took to the locker room camaraderie immediately. She went from timid and awkward to bold and brash, someone unafraid who knew how to make space and make noise. Spinning around the pole or swinging a microphone, whenever Ruby was on the stage, she gave her all to stake her claim in what she'd built for herself. When she danced, Nikki could see all that liberation in the smile on her face.

So it was a little disappointing to see that smile falter as she caught sight of him.

She staggered a bit as they locked eyes and awkwardly moved to the other side of the stage, regaining composure away from his glance. When she came back around, Nikki had grabbed a seat up front next to the blonde and his friend. Ruby flipped her ponytail to hide her eye roll and crawled over to him.
"What do you want?" She said just loud enough for him to hear, sliding down onto her elbows and pushing her ass in the air for the rest of the audience.
"I wanna talk to you."
"No way. Go home, Nikki."
"How about a private dance then?"
"Fuck you!" She pulled herself up onto her knees and tugged the straps of her leather harness down. Nikki placed a hundred dollar bill on stage.
"Come talk to me."
Nikki didn't seem to understand what he was asking. She stood up and threw one long leg over his shoulder and dragged his seat in closer. She slid down into his lap so that she straddled him, one thigh pressed up against his arm in a flexible fold. Her nipples, covered up with pasties, pressed against his chest. The guys next to them whooped and tossed stacks of dollar bills into Nikki's lap as she wrapped her other leg around his waist.
He was instantly hard.
She tangled her fingers into his knotted black hair and purred into his ear.
"Are you really trying make a scene, Sixx?" She pulled back and looked up into his eyes. His expression had a slight glaze, his mouth dropped open. His hands rested nervously on her hips. The answer, she could see from his hesitation, was no. Nikki was known for his impulse - it's what they bonded over. They spent their nights buried in drugs and living out their highs with fireworks, bar fights and loud music, bringing them to early mornings of come downs, shivers and heightened emotions. Cocaine addled conversations birthed ideas for Motley Crue and eventually led to Ruby forming her own band, The Plastix. They talked books and broken homes, b movies and beat poets, deep dark fears and depraved, debased perversions. But whenever they would come too close, whenever things got too heavy, Nikki would pull away. He would tug up his sleeves and show his scars, recount memories to the point of tears, but if she ever moved to soothe him, he flinched. Nikki was always unknowingly crying out for help, but his problem was he never knew what to do once he got it. It was why she stopped giving him so many chances; she knew he would never take them.

She felt bad for him.

"Fine. Let's talk." She pressed her forehead to his and pulled away. She finished her number with a final upside down spin down the pole and motioned for Jade - a vampy brunette - to take her spot on stage.

Ruby stepped behind the zebra print curtain backstage and emerged a few minutes later in a black sweatshirt and leg warmers with a drink in each hand. She led Nikki to the VIP lounge - a purple velvet couch and a clear lucite table tucked in a corner behind a velvet rope. Under the black light, she sipped on her vodka cranberry and pushed a refreshed Jack and Coke into his hand.

"Got ya a bunch of cherries." She commented, snatching one out of his drink and sucking the whiskey off it.
"Thanks. I never wanna ask for them." He pulled his black fringe over his eyes before doing the same.
"You'll empty half a bottle of hairspray onto yourself but you won't ask for cherries?"
"I don't care if people wanna call me a chick. I just don't want them thinking I'm a kid."

Ruby pulled his hundred dollar bill from her bra and slid it across the table.
"Where'd you get the money?"
Nikki made a face and quickly shoved it into the pocket of his leather jacket.
"Tommy let me pawn his stereo." He mumbled.
"Nikki!"
"I know."
"C'mon, you can't do that! You don't gotta....throw money at me anyway. I would've just talked to you afterwards."
"Without trying to punch me in the head?"
"Okay. I get your approach." She shrugged and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "But all I've wanted lately is to just talk to you. I really wish you would've just tried that. I don't want your money."
He crunched up the bill in his fist. "I thought maybe I could just buy back what I stole from you." He sighed. She wanted to yell at him more; tell him that she didn't care about the drugs. She cared that he lied to her and used her. She'd seen him do it to enough people to feel stupid that she let it happen to her. She wanted to tell him how he made her rush to work even more hectic than L.A. traffic normally made it. She wanted to tell him about dancing with aching joints and having to wear a smile when you can't feel the muscles in your face. She wanted to tell him that just because he wanted her attention, that didn't mean he could fuck her over.

But she didn't.
He already knew all of that.
He was trying.

"Why have you been so shitty to me lately?"

He went quiet. There was hardly a time she caught him off guard that he couldn't immediately divert his attention to scribbling in his notebook. He opened his mouth to say something and then stopped himself before chugging his drink.
He was the one who wanted to talk, after all.
"It's weird for me that you're dating Vince."
Ruby lifted an eyebrow at him before letting out a confused laugh.