How Nikki really gave up drugs.
I wanna try and feel the pain you're going through
Till the death you'll see this through
Cold sweats, hallucinations
I wanna scream to show the hell I'm going through
The addiction's taking you
As I pulled my helmet from my head, I could already hear the music pounding from Nikki's mansion. I sighed deeply, yanking the keys from my motorcycle and getting off. I placed my helmet on the seat and grabbed my back pack I had secured to the back of it. Then I walked to the front door, wondering how Nikki could be playing the music so loud after touring.
I banged on the door loudly and hoped that Nikki could hear over all the music. I fidgeted uncomfortably in my converses and kept pulling at the loose threads sticking out from the holes in the jeans. When he didn't answer the door, I banged again, growing a little annoyed. Finally, after waiting got on my nerves, I reached under the 'Fuck Off' welcome mat and grabbed the spare key there. I entered the house and placed the key back quietly.
"Nikki, man. Where the hell are you?" I called out over the music. I walked into the living room, twisting the knob to lower the music and looking for my missing bassist. I sighed when I saw a familiar paper bag on the coffee table.
Slinging my backpack on, I walked up the stairs and in the direction of Nikki's bedroom. I heard faint rustling from behind the closed door and shook my head. I could only imagine what he was doing behind closed doors. I rested my hand on the doorknob but didn't open it, knowing he wouldn't like that very much. I knocked on the door and rested my head against the cool wood.
"What?" Nikki snapped out. I sighed, knowing that tone of voice well. He was aggravated with something. I closed my eyes slightly. I felt his footsteps come closer to the door and moved my head away, just to be safe. "Who's that?"
"It's Tommy, dude. I'm spending the week with you remember? We talked about it the other day on the phone." I explained softly. I hooked my thumbs in the straps of my bag and waited to see if he actually did remember us talking about that.
I heard the door being unlocked and straightened up, waiting to see just how bad Nikki looked this time. It seemed every time we came home from a tour and Nikki was by himself, the little demons attacked him and wouldn't let him be. The door was pulled back and I squinted through the darkness to find Nikki's face. When I did, I looked down, feeling horrible. "Damn Nik."
Can you see me through bloodshot eyes
Should I fight for what is right or let it die
Now I'm choking on force fed lies
Do I fight or let it die
Nikki glared at me from the safety of his bedroom, his eyes sunken into his head and bloodshot. When I didn't say anything, he growled slightly and retreated into the room but left the door opened. I followed after him. His room was darker than I expected. I stumbled a few times over god knows what before I found a light and switched it on.
Looking around the room, I realized that Nikki must not have left his room in a while. There was empty bottles of Jack all over floor, mixing with empty bindles and used needles. I kicked them away with disgust and leaned against the wall. Nikki sat on his bed, a journal in his lap and gun on the side of him. I felt my stomach tighten when I saw the gun and knew it was loaded. "What's with the gun, Nikki?" I asked carefully.
Nikki snarled slightly, tucking his pen in the journal and sticking it in his bedside table. Then he looked at me with dark, clouded eyes. I shivered slightly, wondering what was causing my friend to act so coldly towards me. "Why do you care about it? No one cares about me anyways. All they care about is the songs I write and that I show up to play. No one would care if I died."
I felt my heart tighten, not believing what he was saying. We would care if he died. He was Motley in person. Everything we were was because of Nikki's creativity. I dropped my bag to the floor and walked carefully over to his bed, sitting down at the end of it to be safe. "Nikki, you know that's not true man. We would care if you died. We care a lot about you. What about when you died, dude? We were all fucked up."
Nikki snorted, looking away from me with darkening eyes. I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "If you all cared so fucking much, why am I still addicted to heroin and everyone stopped asking if I was okay?" he spat out. His eyes found mine again and I looked down quickly. "Even you stopped asking."
"Man I...we...fuck..." I choked out. He was right. We did stop asking if he was okay. I guess we just tired of hearing the same 'Fuck Offs' and 'Screw you's' that we stopped. We all thought he was better, he acted like he had kicked the addiction. But I guess Nikki was a better actor than some Hollywood stars. I believed the lies and games he played when I should have been fighting to help him get better. "Shit. I'm sorry Nikki."
He laughed, a sinister thing that made my skin crawl. I lifted my head and looked at him, wondering what would he say now. "Sorry ain't doing shit, Tommy. I'm just everyone's money wagon and nobody gives a shit about me. That's the truth man. Everyone is sick of caring about me."
Everyone is sick of caring
No silver lining on the cloud that covers you
Let it pour and soak you through
No hope just desperation
So sit and wait for death
And pray it takes you soon
The addiction's taking you
I shook my head, my eyes hardening. I still cared. Deeper than he thought. "Sorry to say it, Sixx, but you're wrong. I care. I cared when you died last December. I care that your still doing it now. And I want to change that." I said strongly, standing and kicking the trash around the room. "This shit is going to stop. You aren't going to do it while I'm here."
Nikki glared at me, a devilish smirk on his face. "You're only here for a week. I'll just pick it back up when you leave." he admitted freely. I growled at him, lounging at him and tackling him to the bed. He kicked and struggled but for the first time, I had the upper hand. "Get the fuck off me, Lee."
"No. Fucking listen to me, Nikki. I'm goin' to stay around and make sure you kick this fuckin' habit. I should've done this in the first place but I guess , like everyone, I believed that you got better. Now I'm going to make you better. And I don't care if I have to fight you every god damn step of the way. You ain't doin' this shit anymore." I yelled at him, shaking him by the shirt front.
I don't know what made me snap so bad. I usually had a long fuse when it came to getting anger, but I think Nikki burnt the wick right down to the explosive. Nikki just laid beneath me, hate filled eyes locked on mine and lip twitching. "Why do you even care? I'm worthless anyways. No one will ever love, like or even care about a heroin addict."
I was surprised when I heard Nikki's voice crack and the tears start to fall from his eyes. I felt horrible. Because of the lack of caring, Nikki really believe that he was worthless and unloved. It made me feel even worse knowing I was amongst those who stopped caring because we believed his lies. Addiction and inconsiderate people had taken a strong willed survivor and reduced him to the person I saw in front of me.
I shook my head, moving off of Nikki and leaning with my back against the wall. I reached down and pulled him up towards me, so he rested between my legs with his back on my chest. I wrapped my arms around him and rested my head on his. "That's where you're wrong, Nikki. I know a person who will always like you. Always care about you. And most importantly, will always love you, no matter what."
Nikki sniffed, wiping his face and looking up at me through greasy hair. First thing to do to clean him up was literally clean him up. He stank of sweaty concert shirts and booze. "Yeah, and who is this person that cares so much about me?"
I smiled, kissing the top of his head lightly. "Me, you idiot. I have and will always love you. No matter what you were. I don't see that when I look at you. I see my best friend and soul mate." I said softly.
Nikki was silent for a moment, his fingers tugging at the threads I had earlier been pulling at. I laid my hand over his and stilled his fingers. He looked over at me, eyes soft and a small smile on his face. "Is that why you're goin' to fight me to get me clean?" he asked softly.
I nodded, smirking. "I'm not the enemy here, Nikki. I'm here to help you. You fight to get clean and I will fight with you. And I will always fight for you. You mean the world to me. Always have." I explained. Nikki sniffed again, tears falling again. I wiped them away with a frown. "No more crying okay? I hate seeing you like this."
Nikki nodded, wiping his face roughly and looking around the room. His face hardened and I felt him tense under my arms. I rubbed his back and slid out from under him. Walking to his dresser, I grabbed fresh jeans and a shirt without really looking. I tossed them to him with a smile. "You go clean up and I'll clean this up. It's time to start fighting, Nikki. You ready?"
He slid from the bed, tucking the clothes under his arm. He hugged me quickly and smiled. "As long as you stand by me, I'll fight anything to get clean." he mumbled into my shirt. I smirked, hugging back and then nudging him gently in the direction of his bathroom.
Once the door was closed and I heard the shower running, I looked around the room with a weary face. Maybe I should have opted to help Nikki clean up in the shower instead. This place was a mess.
I will fight, one more fight
Don't break down in front of me
I will fight, when you fight
I am not the enemy