Categories > Celebrities > Guns n' Roses > Through The Eyes Of...

Do I Know It's Christmas Time At All?

by MaryJaneSixx 0 reviews

Another true account

Category: Guns n' Roses - Rating: R - Genres: Romance - Warnings: [V] [X] [R] - Published: 2017-07-14 - 1635 words


December 23, 1987. Fucking finally I'm on a plane for LA. I pretty much got kicked out of Japan. I guess I took a prank too far. Our promoter, Mr. Udo stayed with me after the band left along with Doug. Doc and Doug actually flipped a coin to see who would stay with me. Yeah, I just turned 29, but I still have baby sitters, keepers really. They think their money train might die. This is after all my band, my vision, my image, my lyrics. I am Motley crue, everyone else is just an employee. Anyhow, I got loaded last night and ordered up a bunch of hookers in Hitler costumes and sent them to Mr. Udo's room. Guess he didn't find it very funny. He looked at me and said basically that his wife was everything to him. He looked me in my eye and said, "You go home now Nikki-san." I felt like a kid getting scolded by his dad. Man, I came to this country and abused the poor people of Japan. I knew my departure would be just as joyous as my arrival. They're ready to see me go.

So I'm 36,000 feet over the ground. It's dark and the plane will be landing at LAX soon. I've already called my dealer from the plane and arranged for a limo to pick him up and bring him to the airport. I have to be straight when I go see Izzy...Ok maybe not straight but functional. My mouth is watering for a fix. It was a really long flight, and there was a three hour layover. I'm already going into withdrawal from the long flight. It'll be good to get home and make this pain stop. Too bad the dope isn't going to seem as good because it won't be as pure. But it'll get me straight and that's all that matters.

And of course Izzy is on my mind. I've been dying for him. I can't wait to feel his lips on mine. My first stop will be pulling up to the curb of Franklin Plaza in a limo. I have a set of throwing stars to give him along with an authentic sword. Since Izzy's all into defense so he should love them. I hope that I'll be able to get it up. In Japan I had Geisha girls, hookers, strippers, none of which I could get hard for. The smack was simply too strong. It's a shame, Asian chicks think my dick in huge. I guess compared to Asian guys it is. And their pussies are so tight. It's a shame I couldn't enjoy them. I really hope that I can enjoy Izzy. I had called him from Japan just before I left and told him what time my flight would be in. He said he had no plans and would be in his room and gave me his room number.

After landing I'm greeted with a silver limo. I get in and my dealer already has a fix ready for me. With shaking hands I manage to hit a vein. I meld into the seat and enjoy the ride. The limo is stocked with Jack I grab it and start to gulp it down. My dealer is also holding some phenobarbital so I buy a dozen and take four, guzzling them down with Jack. I'll do anything to get rid of this dope sickness, aggravated by jet lag. It takes about thirty five minutes to reach Franklin Plaza, by then I'm pretty fucking loaded.

I stagger out of the limo and naturally there's fans screaming my name. I push my way through them signing autographs and posing for pictures with my signature smirk. Finally I make it inside. The lobby is crawling with musicians of every kind. They have puffed up hair, make up and are wearing chicks leotards. They're imitating Crue, but it's been three years since we dressed that way. Fucking wannabe posers.

I step into the elevator and push Izzy's floor. I listen to the elevator ding as it passes each floor. Finally it stops and the doors open. The phenobarbital and whiskey is kicking my ass. Izzy's floor is crowded as hell. I see guys from poser bands, Bret Michaels from Poison, Janie Lane of Warrant, Sebastian Bach from Skid Row, Kip Winger of Winger, Matt Sorum from The Cult, Flea from Jane's Addiction, Joey Kramer from Aerosmith, Mick Fleetwood, David Lee Roth, Angus and Malcolm Young from's just a huge fucking party. Naturally I get caught up in the 'Hello's', 'what's ups', 'long time no sees', and the 'your bands dong great' bullshit. Finally I reach Izzy's door and knock. I knock really hard because I can't hear myself knocking.

I expect him to answer fairly quick because he's expecting me. And I've thought of him every single day since I saw him last. I wait then knock again, even louder. I want to hear my name come off his lips. But he still doesn't answer. Maybe he's in the shower and can't hear over the water. So I bang with both fists but he still doesn't answer. Maybe he's passed out in bed. I kick the door repeatedly. Still nothing. I see my friend Robbin Crosby from Ratt. He comes over and greets me with a hug.

"Nikki man where have you been. I saw Tommy a week ago," he says in a tone I know all too well is smacked out.

"I stayed over in Japan," I tell him.

"You looking for Stradlin?" He asks pointing at Izzy's door.

I nod, "Yeah I talked to him and he knew what time I was coming."

"Oh, he checked out," he tells me.

My face scrunches, "What?"

"Yeah, he checked out a few hours ago," he nods.

My stomach hits the ground. He checked out and knew I was coming. But...why? Why would he do that knowing I was coming by? Then my chest starts to ache. He wouldn't do that unless he was avoiding me. My head throbs. I'm frozen to this spot with a befuddled expression glued to my face. I just stand there feeling a deep rejection. Was he trying to run from me? I'm so confused. I fear every bad possibility I can. Did he leave a note? Was it lost? Did he ask someone to give me a message? We're they in the bathroom or something? The whiskey makes me pissed off. The pills make me feel confused. And the heroin just leaves me dazed.

"Hey my guys here and the shit is really good. You want a hit?" Robbin smiles broadly with half lidded eyes. He's completely wasted.

"Fuck yeah man," I nod. If I get higher I'll stop hurting. I can pull my shit together and figure out what to do.

I follow Robbin to somebody's room. Inside his dealer is cooking up a fix. He quickly looks up at me. "Nikki Sixx, hey man you want a hit?"

"You got clean needles?" I ask watching him draw up the dope into the syringe.

"Yeah, of course," he nods extending the loaded rig out to me.

I sit down feeling like shit. All I can do is wonder why Izzy stood me up. I bet he was with that red headed son of a bitch. I was so close to killing that fuck. If Izzy would have just waited ten more minutes Axl would have been dead. I try to steady the needle but I'm seeing double. I'm too fucked up to get myself off. "Here you do it," I tell the dealer and hand the rig back to him and extend my arm out.

He spikes my vein and I start to feel really hot. I instantly start to sweat. This shit is good. "Thanks man," I say and stand up turning to Robbin., "I gotta go, I'll catch you later man."

I leave the room feeling like my lower half weighed a ton. The hallway is twitching and trying to spin. I grab the wall. I take a deep breath and feel like I don't get any of the air. I try again with the same effect. Shit...something's wrong. I think it was too much. Plus I've taken pills and I'm drunk. I think I overdid it. I need to get out of this hallway. I'll probably be able to breathe then. I make it back to Izzy's door and knock again. Nothing. I start to panic because I can't catch my breath. I pull myself by the hand railing to the next door. My knees buckle and I pull myself back up. I try to find the strength to knock on the door next to Izzys.

The door opens up and I see Steven standing there. His eyes go wide when he sees me. He probably thinks I'm here to hurt him. But I'm not. I just want out of this hallway. I just want to find Izzy. Where did he go? I mean to ask Steven all of this but I can't find the breath to ask. I can only manage one word, "Izzy." Then I feel myself lose control of my body. I go down in the doorway. My limp body ends up on my stomach and face. Then everything just starts clouding over. Voices sound distant and echoey. My clouded vision starts to turn a smokey grey. And slowly it just gets darker and darker. I feel my eyes shut as I'm face first on the floor. I watch the burgundy carpet change to a deeper purple, then indigo, midnight blue, blue black. Then theres nothing but black. It feels like a blind prison with voices whispering to me how fucked I am. This is bad.
Sign up to rate and review this story