𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 ✄𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐤𝐢 𝐬𝐢𝐱𝐱

✄ 29 ✄

Hollywood, 1985.
(Gwen's point of view)

Destruction was the main ingredient when I thought of the year 1985. It was the destruction of families, friends, and hopes. My job as a masseuse didn't work out, and I was stuck with nothing until Mick pulled some strings for me.

I was now an assistant manager with Mötley Crüe's current managers Doc and Doug. It was a step up from my last job, but the only downside was that I had to keep the guys straighten up along with their reputations. And it had been a lot of work lately.

The Mötley Crüe family was being torn apart due to Vince's arrest for the death of Razzle, and because Nikki's change in attitude lately.

Razzle was a man who I had met once in my entire life. He seemed very outgoing, punctual, and compassionate in that one night I had talked to him. It just seemed so scary to me. It's like one minute I'm talking to him and all is well, and then the next he's dead. The thought terrifies me every time I think about it.

Vince was sentence to a month in jail for vehicular manslaughter but only served nineteen on the condition that he stayed sober. Everyone from the Crüe family visited him except for Nikki. I found it very peculiar since him and Vince were the best of friends. They were like brothers. The acted like me and Chrissy except they were the guy versions of us.

Just why would he not visit Vince?

I figured enough was enough when Vince finally got out of jail. On the day of his release, I went to Nikki's house in Hollywood not only as my duty as an assistant manager but as a shoulder for him to lean on Just Incase if this was too hard for him to handle. I knew how close he was to Razzle and whatnot.

I knocked on his door multiple times but there was no answer. I knew he was home because his black corvette he had finally invested in was sitting in his driveway.

"Nikki, answer the fuckin' door!" I shouted, knocking again.

I stood on the tips of my toes and peered through the glass. I saw a dark figure slowly trudging towards the door. "What do you want, Satan!" He shouted back, probably not expecting anyone.

"Fuck you, Sixx! Answer the door!" I shouted again.

Slowly but surely, the door opened. When it did I swore I was met with an apparition. His skin was pale and he looked thinner than he usually did. I could see the purple bags under his eyes and how tired he was. When he opened the door, he didn't connect his eyes with mine. He looked left, then right, and finally at my blue ones.