She Goes Down

I’d quit my job at the Kitty Kat Lounge like Nikki asked and had a job set up for my return off the Shout At The Devil Tour. I was quite excited to be going but also nervous. This was really going to test us because I knew there would be twenty times as many groupies on tour. I could handle the sluts in LA but could I handle a country full? Not to mention Ruby was well and truly fucked off that she hadn’t been invited. She obviously hadn’t made enough impact on Vince nor Tommy. I felt bad for her, she was spiting herself as it was her own stubborn doing.

Besides that, the past few months Nikki had been pissing about with so-called Satanism. He and the guys though it was real funny while they’d been recording the album but I just left them to it. Until weird shit started going down at the apartment. At first I thought he was messing with me, turned out that wasn’t so.
I put my foot down – the first time I even felt the need to.
So he stopped that nonsense.

He’s been real busy with the album and been away a lot, but that’s life. Something he had to do, so I left him to it. I expected him to recalculate the brilliance of his idea about me touring with them all.
Nope. No such sanity.

***

I can’t remember whether we drove or flew up to Portland to meet Ozzy Osborne, but that’s not important. I spent that first day with the road crew so I could organise the fun side of the tour rider.

“I want the only other key to the bus,” I demanded of the tour manager.

“Well that’s nice ‘n all honey, but no,” he responded patronisingly.

“Look, buddy…those guys are my responsibility too and unlike you, I know what they’re like and how to deal with them. So give me the other fucking key now,” seemed I had to be forceful.

“Right ok, but if this fucks up its on your head, sweetheart.” He dropped the key into my hand and strode away.

Now only the driver and I had keys. I didn’t want anyone else getting their hands on the piles of blow and whiskey you see.

I got back into the arena and sat back with my own bottle of vodka as Motley Crue tore up the stage with delight.

When they were done and came stumbling off stage I sat back out of the way, but Nikki still looked for me.

“’Lexa!” he grinned happily.

“You were amazing.” I said, jumping into him.

“That felt amazing,” he told me, not hesitating to engulf me in sweat.

“Come on, I got your party ready,” I smiled.

“Ok,” he didn’t seem too bothered about missing Ozzy’s first show.

Tommy and Vince had pulled some girls aboard to party with and I think Mick had snuck off into the back with a couple himself.
The rest of the night was a mystery, but I recall the following day well.

“Dude, dude,” I woke up but Vince wasn’t talking to me.

I had KO’d propped up in the back of the bus.

“What do you want?” Nikki answered.

“I got these smokin’ hot sluts waiting outside, come on.” Vince urged.

“Fuck, ‘Lexa is here. No.” Nikki answered.

“Why did you bring her out here, man?”

“Cos she’s my girl and I wanted her here. Whats it to you!”

“Dude, she’s cool ‘n all but she’ll get in the way, like she is now.”

“Shut up, Vince. Go away,” Nikki huffed.

It was probably seen as odd but I didn’t hesitate to get up, open the door, stare at Vince then climb into bed with Nikki.

“Shit,” Vince mumbled, realising I’d heard, and walked away.

“Ignore him, he’s an ass,” Nikki wrapped his arms around me and went back to sleep.

Vince was right though.

From then on I felt really out of place and it sucked. My suspisions were confirmed and I needed to get out.

***

They all wanted to hang out with Ozzy and so I hung out with the bartenders. Snorting ants and licking piss was just a little too much for me.
Partying was always my thing, the drugs, the drink and until recently, yeah I guess fucking people I didn’t know. But Nikki, just like Tommy, Vince and Mick, [well maybe not so much Mick but who knew with him] still wanted to fuck everything that moved. It was kinda natural. They were young guys in a metal band that was only getting bigger.
I didn’t want to stand in the way of whatever they called fun. But unfortunately I think all girlfriends do that either intentionally or accidentally and even though it was only one part of it that I was ruining, it was still apart of it.

***

“’Lex, you coming to the bar?” Tommy asked one afternoon.

“Yeah I’ll be down in a few,” I muttered, sat at the top of the stairs in the hotel we were staying at.

“Is everything ok?” he sat beside me. such a sweetie at times.

“Want the truth or a lie?” I smirked.

“This is me, ‘Lex! What’s up?”

“Dude, you guys don’t need me around. I think I’m gonna go home.” I told him.

“I don’t think Nikki wants that,” Tommy told me.

“I think he does.” I knew I was right and Tommy was just trying to make me feel better.

“Talk to him about it before you do anything.” He sighed.

So I did. He came up to the room with me.

“I want to give you some space,” I started, “I’m goin’ home.”

“What? Why?” he didn’t seem to expect it.

“I don’t wanna stop you fully enjoying this tour. This is a major thing for you.” I said simply.

“You’re not.”

“Yeah but I’m also bored shitless. I may as well be bored shitless at home and be making some money,” I shrugged.

“Women are ridiculous!” was all he said before walking out.

I felt pretty shitty then.

That was short and not even sweet. I went home, started a new job in a liquor store and couldn’t stop thinking about him.
He called a few times but the air was pretty icy between us.

***

I heard the key in the lock and turned down the record I was listening to. The door opened and Nikki just stood there with a blank expression. That look said it all.

“Hey…did you have fun?” I asked, unsure what to say.

“Yeah…yeah it was good.” He replied.

The first night was so awkward. We knew what had happened, what was going on and what this was leading to.

***

I still think about him from time to time. I’ll always have a special place for my monster that was Nikki Sixx. He’s had some shitty times and done some great things since then as we all know. I’ve often considered calling him but somehow I don’t think he’d approve of my lifestyle. The last thing I need is a lecture off an ex-addict. I think I may well have loved Nikki Sixx; he may have even loved me, in our own twisted, reckless hedonistic little ways.