Categories > Celebrities > Motley Crue > Broken
The Dope Show
Scoring drugs is sometimes like creating a work of art. Sometimes it's easy, other times it's like the hardest damn feat to accomplish. I had become well versed in the matter. It seemed as if anymore I was like a lure to seedy dope heads and dealers.
So I'm out on the prowl for my next fix. The next hit to kill any emotion in me that may not have died from the last dose. My mission is utter numbness. My dream is to no longer feel anything or anyone.
A dark alley in a filthy city, the kind of place I know my beloved lurks. Bums, fiends, junkies...all members of her extended family. The lost and the forgotten. Yeah, maybe I fit in like this were home.
I lower my head and allow my hair to cover my face, hiding my shame as I walk across the dark pavement. I meet none of the stares that stare me down. I just continue forward, searching for the tell tell signs of a dealer.
They aren't hard to spot. They always have eyes that don't trust. They guard their pockets with their life. Some of them sport a sweat from the fading of their last dose. Junkies to their own junk.
My eyes glance up. I see red haired girl clad in black. Her eyes scan everything that moves. She's cautious and on edge. I watch as a guy approaches her with shaking hands. There's a slide of hand and then her hand goes into her pocket. She places something small in his hand and he rushes off.
A smile comes to my face as I watch her start to scan everything once again. She's a dealer. I didn't see many women in this type of profession, especially not making a dark alley into their office. She must have had a lot of guts. Or perhaps she was just really high on her own supply.
I stand there in the shadows and watch her for a bit. She soon pulls out a cigar and lights it. A chick with a cigar dealing dope in the dark. The woman of my dreams. I lower my head again and step out of the shadows to approach her.
"Hey," I smile to her with my best attempt to be charming.
"Hey," she says with rolling eyes as she exhales smoke and tries to act as though she's looking away. I know her cautious eyes haven't left me for a second.
"So what's a girl doing out here in the dark slinging dope?" I ask.
Her eyes dart over me briefly. She apparently quickly concludes that I'm of no immediate threat to her.
"What business is it of your's?" She slightly huffs as she pulls her cigar to her cherry lips and inhales again.
"Its just odd is all," I shrug. I cant help but survey her closer. She has on a ton of black eyeliner and mascara. She has a really rocking body. The black pants she wears is leather and clings to her perfectly. She's sexy to me.
"Caaaan I help you?" She asks me with a shrug, obviously boring of me gawking at her.
"Yeah...I...I need a gram," I nervously say.
I see her eyes scanning me once more. "What's a guy like you doing in a dark alley scoring dope?" She asks.
"A guy like me?" I say.
She exhales with a nod. "I do know who you are," she says with an exhale. "You should have tried to disguise yourself a bit or something...its not safe out here. If someone recognized you they would just rob you."
Wow. She's the one worried about me? Here I am worrying about her. This was odd. Did she really know who I was?
"Who am I?" I ask her.
She slightly rolls her eyes, "You're Nikki Sixx from Motley Crue...right?"
I slowly nod.
"Yeah...and you're loaded with cash, something these junkies need, something they would kill for. It would be a shame for you to be stabbed to death in an alley, I kind of like Motley Crue."
A small smile crosses my face. She's a fan?
"I'm too evil to kill," I smirk. "I sold my soul to Satan you know."
"That a fact?" She asks cracking a smile. "Hope you got a good price for it."
"Not really," I say never losing my smile.
"Too bad," she shrugs.
"Yeah...so you holding or what?" I impatiently ask.
"That depends," She smirks through those plump cherry lips.
"On what?" I ask taking the bait.
"On if you're willing to pay what I want for it," is her answer.
"How much?" I ask though I know I will pay any price she wants.
"Take me with you."
This floors me. Take her with me? "Why?" I can't help but ask her.
"Because I need to get the fuck out of here," She says looking suddenly figity. "I'll just catch a ride to the next city or something...I'm not trying to go all girly on you or...or anything."
I think for a moment. Having a smack dealer present didn't sound like such a bad idea. Plus management would think she was just another groupie. What did I possibly have to lose?
"Sure," I inevitably shrug.
Scoring drugs is sometimes like creating a work of art. Sometimes it's easy, other times it's like the hardest damn feat to accomplish. I had become well versed in the matter. It seemed as if anymore I was like a lure to seedy dope heads and dealers.
So I'm out on the prowl for my next fix. The next hit to kill any emotion in me that may not have died from the last dose. My mission is utter numbness. My dream is to no longer feel anything or anyone.
A dark alley in a filthy city, the kind of place I know my beloved lurks. Bums, fiends, junkies...all members of her extended family. The lost and the forgotten. Yeah, maybe I fit in like this were home.
I lower my head and allow my hair to cover my face, hiding my shame as I walk across the dark pavement. I meet none of the stares that stare me down. I just continue forward, searching for the tell tell signs of a dealer.
They aren't hard to spot. They always have eyes that don't trust. They guard their pockets with their life. Some of them sport a sweat from the fading of their last dose. Junkies to their own junk.
My eyes glance up. I see red haired girl clad in black. Her eyes scan everything that moves. She's cautious and on edge. I watch as a guy approaches her with shaking hands. There's a slide of hand and then her hand goes into her pocket. She places something small in his hand and he rushes off.
A smile comes to my face as I watch her start to scan everything once again. She's a dealer. I didn't see many women in this type of profession, especially not making a dark alley into their office. She must have had a lot of guts. Or perhaps she was just really high on her own supply.
I stand there in the shadows and watch her for a bit. She soon pulls out a cigar and lights it. A chick with a cigar dealing dope in the dark. The woman of my dreams. I lower my head again and step out of the shadows to approach her.
"Hey," I smile to her with my best attempt to be charming.
"Hey," she says with rolling eyes as she exhales smoke and tries to act as though she's looking away. I know her cautious eyes haven't left me for a second.
"So what's a girl doing out here in the dark slinging dope?" I ask.
Her eyes dart over me briefly. She apparently quickly concludes that I'm of no immediate threat to her.
"What business is it of your's?" She slightly huffs as she pulls her cigar to her cherry lips and inhales again.
"Its just odd is all," I shrug. I cant help but survey her closer. She has on a ton of black eyeliner and mascara. She has a really rocking body. The black pants she wears is leather and clings to her perfectly. She's sexy to me.
"Caaaan I help you?" She asks me with a shrug, obviously boring of me gawking at her.
"Yeah...I...I need a gram," I nervously say.
I see her eyes scanning me once more. "What's a guy like you doing in a dark alley scoring dope?" She asks.
"A guy like me?" I say.
She exhales with a nod. "I do know who you are," she says with an exhale. "You should have tried to disguise yourself a bit or something...its not safe out here. If someone recognized you they would just rob you."
Wow. She's the one worried about me? Here I am worrying about her. This was odd. Did she really know who I was?
"Who am I?" I ask her.
She slightly rolls her eyes, "You're Nikki Sixx from Motley Crue...right?"
I slowly nod.
"Yeah...and you're loaded with cash, something these junkies need, something they would kill for. It would be a shame for you to be stabbed to death in an alley, I kind of like Motley Crue."
A small smile crosses my face. She's a fan?
"I'm too evil to kill," I smirk. "I sold my soul to Satan you know."
"That a fact?" She asks cracking a smile. "Hope you got a good price for it."
"Not really," I say never losing my smile.
"Too bad," she shrugs.
"Yeah...so you holding or what?" I impatiently ask.
"That depends," She smirks through those plump cherry lips.
"On what?" I ask taking the bait.
"On if you're willing to pay what I want for it," is her answer.
"How much?" I ask though I know I will pay any price she wants.
"Take me with you."
This floors me. Take her with me? "Why?" I can't help but ask her.
"Because I need to get the fuck out of here," She says looking suddenly figity. "I'll just catch a ride to the next city or something...I'm not trying to go all girly on you or...or anything."
I think for a moment. Having a smack dealer present didn't sound like such a bad idea. Plus management would think she was just another groupie. What did I possibly have to lose?
"Sure," I inevitably shrug.
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