Don't Go Away Mad // Nikki Sixx x Tommy Lee - Lexx

Chapter 18 - The Gig Is Up

Nikki - 

What the fuck is wrong with me. I know that I need to tell them what’s going on. I have a living room full of people; this isn’t just about me anymore. I prop my head up.

“Guys, I called my dealer a few days ago. I spent the past 2 days binging hard. I’m doing all of it. Heroin. I’m freebasing too. Pills, whatever I have. I just need to numb my head. I can’t deal with all of the fucked-up thoughts that occupy my mind. It’s too much, and too painful. The drugs stop the pain,” I reveal.

I can’t read Vince’s face. He’s thinking about something. Tommy looks concerned. What happened at the club a few nights ago, is what pushed me over the edge. I’m upset with Tommy about what happened that night, but I can’t blame him for my stupid decision about using again. If it wasn’t that incident, it would have been another, most surely the very next one.

I know there was no way I was going to last long without loading up again. It scares me. I almost died, and I know I’m running straight towards that same ending. It’s just a matter of time. 

I felt so empowered when I was clean, especially when I was over the worst of the days. I felt like I could conquer anything. But I have a battle within myself, and my demons are always going to win, and I’m not going to actually conquer shit, unless I ask for help. I’m not strong enough, nor smart enough to overcome anything by myself. 

Mick eventually comes in. Vince fills him in with what I just told him. Mick doesn’t look happy. I’m wondering what he’s going to do. As much as I’m the business-minded, main decision maker for the band, I can be hot-headed and say lots of stupid shit to people, and I’m sometimes unreasonable. Mick is the level-headed one, who at times has to shut my mouth, knock me back a few notches, and bring me down to the ground. He’s ready to knock me back now, I fear. 

I'm relieved when he doesn't rail on me. But he's concerned about all of those stuffy shirts in my  right now. I have to bring up the news again that I can't go forward with the tour, and that I need rehab. Either that, or I'm eventually going to die. We all need each other to keep this band alive. We all offer something vital. We all need help, I just need it the most urgently, as I'm the one dangling my toes over the edge of my grave.

I take a deep breath to tell them again that I can't tour. I feel like I need to empty myself out. Aside from Robbin and my grandfather, who are not here, I'm surrounded by the only people I trust, my brothers. I let loose and share with them why I choose drugs and how I long for my mom's love, and can’t even get anything meaningful from her when I have a fucking brush with death. The only thing I cannot share right now, which means I can't actually completely empty all my sorrow is my scrape with Tommy.

I feel absolutely fucking terrible right now. I feel like I'm screwing everyone over because of my problems. I'm moved when Mick tells me it's OK, and that we'll all stick with each other. Tommy and Vince agree, and for the second time, we make a vow to clean up our fucking acts together. Apparently vows don't mean much in the world of Motley. But I know our intentions are least sincere. He tells me that he'll go out to handle the people in my house. Vince volunteers to help as a means of reinforcement. 

They leave my bedroom. I still feel really shitty about everything. Tommy and I sit quietly on my bed. He asks if I want to be alone. I do, but I also don’t want Tommy to leave. He tells me that I should lie down. I do, with my back towards him. I feel him slide in to lay next to me. It feels good to have him by me. He nestles in behind me, and wraps his arm around me to be close.

I’m still upset with him, but I guess I don’t care right now. It killed me, a few days ago, when I told him that I wasn’t his anymore. I was angry, and when I get angry, I like to see it through. Then I become stubborn, just to stick to my guns to prove a point. But, I didn’t want what I said. I just need time to brood, and be pissed off and feel sorry for myself, or in this case deprive myself. But, I like this now. I don’t want him to leave.