Looks That Kill (Nikki Sixx FanFic)

Cursed

Disclaimer: I do not own Mötley Crüe, Poison, or any of their collective songs.

It started out innocent enough.

My kindergarten boyfriend, Isaac, fell from a tree, causing him to break his leg. Although I had fervently denied it, Isaac had insisted to everyone who would ask that it had been I who had pushed him off of the branch we had been sitting on.

Therefore, it was no surprise to me that, when he returned to school with his leg wrapped in a cast, he refused to speak to me entirely and wouldn't even let me sign his leg. A few weeks later, I saw Isaac sharing his brownie with Summer Hayes at lunch.

That was the end of my first relationship.

My next relationship was in junior high. I was head over heels for this cute boy in my class named, Jake. We dated for about a month before he got pneumonia and had to be hospitalized.

Unfortunately, this was also around the time that my modeling career began to pick up and my family moved out to California before I could see Jake again.

After that heart break, I continued through high school, trying my luck with men along the way.

Still, the results remained the same: fall in love, date, guy gets hurt, my heart breaks even more.

After some time, my luck seemed to get even worse.

The men around me began to drop like flies. This time, they weren't getting broken bones or falling ill. They were dying. Straight to the morgue they went. A date with me was like digging your own grave. Even going to get coffee could be a death sentence.

It was for Will Fischer, anyway....

At this point, I was convinced that I was cursed. By whom and for what, I do not know. But, what I do know, is that something had to be done. I wasn't about to quit dating to become a seamstress, withering away and dying alone with no man for the rest of my days...but I also wasn't about to allow myself to date someone who would fall victim to whatever dark juju was ruining my love life.

This is what brought me to the back stage lounge of a Mötley Crüe concert. The band's lead singer had been involved in a car accident, but had come out alive when his passenger had died. The bassist had almost died due to multiple drug over-doses. The guitarist was a heavy drinker and, apparently, the drummer had to be chained down by their managers on more than one occasion, just because he couldn't control himself with drugs and alcohol.

These guys were the real deal. If anyone could break my "curse", it had to be one of them. They had all cheated death at one point, each one of them pushing their bodies to the limits in the name of drugs and alcohol. I was convinced that, if I was indeed cursed to bring death upon whatever poor soul wanted to date me, then these guys could break the curse. Or, at least, find a way around it.

I just hoped that they wouldn't turn me away.

I fished the compact powder case out of my purse and looked at myself, dabbing at my smudged lipstick and straightening my eye brows. I was Winter Rinaldi. I was a model. If they'd fuck strung-out groupies, they'd drool at the sight of me.

I jumped as the doorknob turned and the sound of voices and laughter crept in through the crack in the door. I hurriedly stood from the sofa, straightening my black, pencil skirt and fluffing my curls.

There's no way they'll turn me away. I won't let them.