Chapter Text
Laughin' like gypsies show to show
Livin' my life like a rollin' stone
This is how my story unfolds
We're on the bus, it's just another night. Another night, the same routine. We get back from the closest bar to the venue after last call, in the early morning. I sit with my bass for a moment but can't find any motivation to write something new, or even to just play some riffs or my favorite songs.
I get up, take off my leathers in favor of sweats, and head back to the bathroom. I prep the rig, melt down a rock, and shoot up in a moment of pure bliss. Sometimes I fall asleep sitting on the toilet at this point.
Actually, that happens pretty often, and the embarrassment has become nonexistent when Mick finds me like that in the morning.
Tonight, I opted for sitting against the wall. I let myself drift off for a moment, but when I wake it's 5 AM. I head back to my bunk, the one on the bottom right, and the early morning light casts an amber glow through the windows.
Tommy sits up in the bunk diagonal, on the top left. I'm surprised to see him awake at this hour, though maybe he never slept at all. If the heavy bags under his eyes are any indication, that suspicion is correct.
"I was worried about you for a bit there, Sixx."
"Why?"
"Well, you were in the bathroom for two and a half hours. Not exactly a normal habit."
I just stare at him for a moment, still out of it from my nap. He looks like an angel in the glow of the light, hair messy and makeup from last night smudged. How is he so beautiful?
I snap back to reality as he shifts positions to face me better. "I just dozed off for a bit."
"Oh. Okay."
We sit in silence for a couple of minutes, just observing each other. I briefly wonder if he could feel the same way I do, but push the thought out of my mind. There's no way- I fell for him six years ago, and if he had ever felt the same we should've realized it by now.
"Why did you start shooting up again?"
Tears build in his eyes as he asks, and his voice quivers. It makes my heart hurt, not only because he's so distraught, but because I was the one who made him feel this way- who made him cry. I can't do that to my ray of sunshine. He deserves so much better.
"Nikki?"
I open my mouth but have no response. I must look like a fish opening and closing my mouth so many times. How can I tell him about how I feel, not only about him, but about myself? About my life, the person I've become, how fucking depressed I am all the damn time? It would dim his light all too much. I can't let that happen. So I just close my mouth a final time.
"Alright then."
He rolls over and I can see him shake with silent sobs.
I'm sorry.
I watch his breath even out into deep breathing. He's fallen back asleep.
I roll over too, but I can't seem to sleep- I have a feeling of guilt that I can't shake off, so I lay awake, drifting off just as I hear Mick getting up.
I wake at about two in the afternoon, and we're in a new city. I can't be bothered to check the schedule to see where we are; I haven't bothered to in months now. Mick is long gone, off the bus doing whatever it is he does all day. Fucking alien. Vince and Tom are still asleep. Thank god- I need some time alone to stew in the mess I've created.
By four, they're awake. We leave the bus and it's like this morning never happened. Tommy seems back to his regular self, hyperactive and happy as ever. But when we make eye contact, I can see what I've done. They've lost their shine.
We run around for a few hours, terrorizing the other guests at the hotel, breaking things, the usual. This shit never fails to amuse us. Damn, we're such stupid fucks.
I haven't shot up today, and in hopes of putting a metaphorical band-aid on Tommy's hurt, I approach him backstage with my head down and eyes glued to the ground.
"T-Bone?"
"Yeah?"
"I, uh… I haven't- you know…"
"What are you talking about, Nik?"
"Ihaven'tshotuptoday."
Damn, that was too rushed, he probably didn't get the message, he thinks I'm stupid, shit shit shit fuckballs-
He wraps me in a bear hug so tight I can barely breathe, but I'm so relieved I can't bring myself to care as I wrap my arms around him too and melt into the embrace I haven't felt in so long.
"Thank God!"
He says it ecstatically and I almost feel proud. I should do this more often. Then maybe he'll be proud of me, too- for real, not just because he's relieved.
"I miss the real you so much when you're high."
"Me too, T."
He backs up, breaking the embrace, and I miss the contact. He's still got his hand on my shoulder as we walk over to a bench, grabbing ourselves a beer on the way.
"So why do you do it, really?"
"I don't know. I guess sometimes I just need to escape reality."
Silence ensues and we just sit sipping our beers.
"Music is my escape, though. I thought it was yours, too."
"In some ways, it is. But there are some things I've been through and when I start writing it's like they come to the forefront of my mind. I just can't seem to get away from them."
"Like what?"
"What do you mean?"
"What have you been through that you can't escape?"
I sigh. "It's just the things you already know, T."
"Well yeah, but I didn't think they bothered you so much that you need to put a needle in your arm. Tell me more about it."
"About what?"
"Come on, Nikki. Don't play dumb."
I don't want to answer. It's so hard to resist those beautiful eyes, though.
"I'm not gonna get into it now. We have a show in 20 minutes."
"Alright. Let's get ready then."
We walk to the dressing rooms and he seems content. I'm happy about that.
I just can't seem to shake the empty feeling in my chest.