Categories > Celebrities > Motley Crue > Clandestine
I Don't Want This
Nikki's POV
I feel a gentle hand stroking the side of my face. It reminds me of the way my grandmother Nona would do when I was sick. I missed her. She was the only person who ever really loved me. She was the only one with balls enough to try to raise me. I had failed her miserably. I can only imaging how disappointed she would be to see me now. I'm glad she's dead to spare her the pain.
But the hand on my cheek continues with soft loving strokes. I thought maybe it was just a dream. Maybe some dope flashback. Maybe Izzy and Slash had returned. I could even accept my subconscious fucking with me. But when my eyes slit open I saw Tommy. He for some reason never crossed my mind to be sitting here stroking my cheek so lovingly.
I turn my head from his hand. “Why are you here?” I say with a raspy snarl.
“You've been in this bathroom all fucking day. You missed sound check...I was fucking worried...I mean especially after this morning and shit.” He says surveying me closely, assessing my damages. Hope he doesn't have any plans for like the next century.
“Did you ask Heather first, you know she fucking hates you around me.” I smirk as I lift myself up off the floor slowly. I see splatters and pools of blood everywhere where I had been lying. I also see my switchblade lying open on the floor. What the fuck? Is this my blood.
“Nikki, bro...why did you do this?” He asks grabbing and outstretching my mutilated left arm.
I glance down at it and see superficial scratches and cuts all over my forearm peppered with beads of dries black blood. I jerk my arm back. That shit was just something I did when nothing else made the pain in my psyche go away. It's weird, by inflicting physical pain on myself it takes away the mental pain. Afterwards I get swept up in this calm that was a lot like a Valium high.
“I'm up now...why are you still here?” I ask and walk over to the sink to clean up my arm. The water stings like a bitch.
“Don't put this shit on me Sixx,” Tommy looks down shaking his head. “I can't deal with Heather and the wedding...being in love with you...seeing you do this shit to yourself.”
He crosses over to the mirror and stands behind me. I refuse to look up at his reflection as I continue scrubbing away all the dried blood. I feel him gently place his hands on my biceps. He barely touches me as if he is unsure if I will just shrug him away.
“You're the one Nikki,” he whispers. “You'll always be the one.”
My eyes dart up to his for just a split second, “What's that? The one you cheat on your fucking wife with?”
Tommy sighs, “I'm not cheating on her...I'm cheating on you.”
I huff. I'm surprised he grasps such a simple concept. “Now why haven't I ever thought of that line. That shit is brilliant T-Bone. Walt Whitman would be fucking proud.”
I quickly shut off the water with all the blood spots and trails now gone. Tommy timidly offers out a towel to me. I jerk it away and wipe down my arm. Fuck it stings.
“I never can seem to say the right things to you,” Tommy glues his glare to the tile floor covered in my blood.
I exit the bathroom, “Oh don't worry about that one. I'm not the only one who has to be subjected to your bullshit words. In fact, I bet Heather has some special Tommy Lee dictionary she uses to look up everything you say.” I begin scrounging for coke. I know show time can't be far away.
“I don't like things like this between us,” he says pulling his own stash out of his pocket and handing it to me.
I grab it and plop down by the nightstand.
“Nikki I meant every fucking word I said to you last night,” he says watching me make out lines.
“And I'm sure Heather has too, verbatim in fact.” I say as I roll up a twenty dollar bill.
Then Tommy's hand is grasping my right wrist tightly as I'm about to do a line of his blow. “Fucking stop it Nikki.”
I look up at him dryly with almost rolling eyes. “Look me in the eyes and tell me I'm fucking lying.”
Tommy's brows furrow and his face twists in pain. “But with you I fucking mean it.” He grabs his stomach. “When I say it to you I fucking feel that shit in here. Knotting and twisting. My heart feels like it gets too fucking big for my chest. And I feel this goddamn explosion inside of myself that feels better than any drug or combinations of drugs we have ever fucking taken bro! I don't feel that shit with her. With her it's like telling your sister you love her...you're fucking supposed to.”
I snarl, “Yeah? You ask sisters to marry you where you come from?”
He rolls his eyes.
“You say you've always loved me. You said it's always been just me.” I feel my eyes watering. “Then why the fuck did you ask her? If you loved me why the fuck did you ask?” I fight off a sob. “Then you tell me your great news and ask me to be your best fucking man. Then you fuck me and you tell me I'm the only person you have ever loved!” I wipe away my tears. “And instead of ditching her and being with me, you're going ahead with the marriage and putting me in the position of being basically your fucking mistress! Is that it for me? Is that all the fuck I get? I didn't even get a fucking choice or a say! All of this is just what Tommy want's and needs. What fucking works best for Tommy!”
Tommy sits on my bed with a sigh. He's quiet a long while while I do line after line of is coke. I soon start to feel very alert and full of energy.
“You're right,” I hear him almost murmuring. “I never gave you a choice in anything. I'm sorry.”
I stand up and stare down at him. “And your pathetic little sorry just fixes every fucking thing? You're still getting married and claiming to love only me. Where the fuck do I work into all this? Heather gets you Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, me the rest? You sleep in the middle of us? What?!”
Tommy shakes his head, “You know how much time you and I get together.”
“Yeah, but it's not our time anymore! Now it's a fucking lie! A secret to keep from your wife! Do you have any clue how that makes me fucking feel?”
Tommy cocks his head at me, “No, I don't. I would love to fucking know because you never fucking say anything about anything that contains feeling.”
I kneel before him sitting on the bed and rest my hands on his legs. “Because feelings hurt. And this fucking hurts,” a stupid tear rolls down my cheek. “I just found out the one person I have ever had any feeling for feels something for me too. But he's getting married. He's marrying her and wanting me to be her replacement when she's gone. You crushed my soul Tommy. I feel like second best because I have to be the lie. I don't get to hold you close when I want, camera's be damned. I don't get to buy a house with you. I don't get to have kids with you. I'm the one who gets the dirty after show sex. The quickies in limos. In twenty four hours you've reduced me to nothing more than your personal groupie.”
Tears come to Tommy's eyes too. He grasps his head. “I don't want you to even say that,” he shakes his head. “I fucking love you. I want you. But bro I have to marry her. Please fucking understand that.”
I rise to my feet and turn my back to him, “I can't.”
I soon feel his arms wrapped around me. His lips linger next to my ear. “Please help me make this work. I can't live without you. I fucked up. I should have told you how I felt a long long time ago...but I didn't. Now I'm stuck in shit up to my eyeballs. Please help me through this. Don't turn your back on me now when I need you the most.”
Tears free fall from my eyes. I hurt so much. I hurt that I'm being asked to share him. I hurt because I selfishly want him all to myself. I hurt because he hurts. I hurt because I can't just walk away. God knows I want to, but I just can't.
I hear his soft words in my ears again, “You know I'd do it for you.”
And he would. I knew Tommy would do anything for me. My tears turn to meet his. “Then make me a promise.”
“Anything,” he nods.
“When you're laying next to her...and when there's someone with me...it's not them we're with...it's us...promise me.” My shaky voice pleads.
“I promise,” he says embracing me tightly as sobs let go. “I love you so much Nikki.”
Nikki's POV
I feel a gentle hand stroking the side of my face. It reminds me of the way my grandmother Nona would do when I was sick. I missed her. She was the only person who ever really loved me. She was the only one with balls enough to try to raise me. I had failed her miserably. I can only imaging how disappointed she would be to see me now. I'm glad she's dead to spare her the pain.
But the hand on my cheek continues with soft loving strokes. I thought maybe it was just a dream. Maybe some dope flashback. Maybe Izzy and Slash had returned. I could even accept my subconscious fucking with me. But when my eyes slit open I saw Tommy. He for some reason never crossed my mind to be sitting here stroking my cheek so lovingly.
I turn my head from his hand. “Why are you here?” I say with a raspy snarl.
“You've been in this bathroom all fucking day. You missed sound check...I was fucking worried...I mean especially after this morning and shit.” He says surveying me closely, assessing my damages. Hope he doesn't have any plans for like the next century.
“Did you ask Heather first, you know she fucking hates you around me.” I smirk as I lift myself up off the floor slowly. I see splatters and pools of blood everywhere where I had been lying. I also see my switchblade lying open on the floor. What the fuck? Is this my blood.
“Nikki, bro...why did you do this?” He asks grabbing and outstretching my mutilated left arm.
I glance down at it and see superficial scratches and cuts all over my forearm peppered with beads of dries black blood. I jerk my arm back. That shit was just something I did when nothing else made the pain in my psyche go away. It's weird, by inflicting physical pain on myself it takes away the mental pain. Afterwards I get swept up in this calm that was a lot like a Valium high.
“I'm up now...why are you still here?” I ask and walk over to the sink to clean up my arm. The water stings like a bitch.
“Don't put this shit on me Sixx,” Tommy looks down shaking his head. “I can't deal with Heather and the wedding...being in love with you...seeing you do this shit to yourself.”
He crosses over to the mirror and stands behind me. I refuse to look up at his reflection as I continue scrubbing away all the dried blood. I feel him gently place his hands on my biceps. He barely touches me as if he is unsure if I will just shrug him away.
“You're the one Nikki,” he whispers. “You'll always be the one.”
My eyes dart up to his for just a split second, “What's that? The one you cheat on your fucking wife with?”
Tommy sighs, “I'm not cheating on her...I'm cheating on you.”
I huff. I'm surprised he grasps such a simple concept. “Now why haven't I ever thought of that line. That shit is brilliant T-Bone. Walt Whitman would be fucking proud.”
I quickly shut off the water with all the blood spots and trails now gone. Tommy timidly offers out a towel to me. I jerk it away and wipe down my arm. Fuck it stings.
“I never can seem to say the right things to you,” Tommy glues his glare to the tile floor covered in my blood.
I exit the bathroom, “Oh don't worry about that one. I'm not the only one who has to be subjected to your bullshit words. In fact, I bet Heather has some special Tommy Lee dictionary she uses to look up everything you say.” I begin scrounging for coke. I know show time can't be far away.
“I don't like things like this between us,” he says pulling his own stash out of his pocket and handing it to me.
I grab it and plop down by the nightstand.
“Nikki I meant every fucking word I said to you last night,” he says watching me make out lines.
“And I'm sure Heather has too, verbatim in fact.” I say as I roll up a twenty dollar bill.
Then Tommy's hand is grasping my right wrist tightly as I'm about to do a line of his blow. “Fucking stop it Nikki.”
I look up at him dryly with almost rolling eyes. “Look me in the eyes and tell me I'm fucking lying.”
Tommy's brows furrow and his face twists in pain. “But with you I fucking mean it.” He grabs his stomach. “When I say it to you I fucking feel that shit in here. Knotting and twisting. My heart feels like it gets too fucking big for my chest. And I feel this goddamn explosion inside of myself that feels better than any drug or combinations of drugs we have ever fucking taken bro! I don't feel that shit with her. With her it's like telling your sister you love her...you're fucking supposed to.”
I snarl, “Yeah? You ask sisters to marry you where you come from?”
He rolls his eyes.
“You say you've always loved me. You said it's always been just me.” I feel my eyes watering. “Then why the fuck did you ask her? If you loved me why the fuck did you ask?” I fight off a sob. “Then you tell me your great news and ask me to be your best fucking man. Then you fuck me and you tell me I'm the only person you have ever loved!” I wipe away my tears. “And instead of ditching her and being with me, you're going ahead with the marriage and putting me in the position of being basically your fucking mistress! Is that it for me? Is that all the fuck I get? I didn't even get a fucking choice or a say! All of this is just what Tommy want's and needs. What fucking works best for Tommy!”
Tommy sits on my bed with a sigh. He's quiet a long while while I do line after line of is coke. I soon start to feel very alert and full of energy.
“You're right,” I hear him almost murmuring. “I never gave you a choice in anything. I'm sorry.”
I stand up and stare down at him. “And your pathetic little sorry just fixes every fucking thing? You're still getting married and claiming to love only me. Where the fuck do I work into all this? Heather gets you Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, me the rest? You sleep in the middle of us? What?!”
Tommy shakes his head, “You know how much time you and I get together.”
“Yeah, but it's not our time anymore! Now it's a fucking lie! A secret to keep from your wife! Do you have any clue how that makes me fucking feel?”
Tommy cocks his head at me, “No, I don't. I would love to fucking know because you never fucking say anything about anything that contains feeling.”
I kneel before him sitting on the bed and rest my hands on his legs. “Because feelings hurt. And this fucking hurts,” a stupid tear rolls down my cheek. “I just found out the one person I have ever had any feeling for feels something for me too. But he's getting married. He's marrying her and wanting me to be her replacement when she's gone. You crushed my soul Tommy. I feel like second best because I have to be the lie. I don't get to hold you close when I want, camera's be damned. I don't get to buy a house with you. I don't get to have kids with you. I'm the one who gets the dirty after show sex. The quickies in limos. In twenty four hours you've reduced me to nothing more than your personal groupie.”
Tears come to Tommy's eyes too. He grasps his head. “I don't want you to even say that,” he shakes his head. “I fucking love you. I want you. But bro I have to marry her. Please fucking understand that.”
I rise to my feet and turn my back to him, “I can't.”
I soon feel his arms wrapped around me. His lips linger next to my ear. “Please help me make this work. I can't live without you. I fucked up. I should have told you how I felt a long long time ago...but I didn't. Now I'm stuck in shit up to my eyeballs. Please help me through this. Don't turn your back on me now when I need you the most.”
Tears free fall from my eyes. I hurt so much. I hurt that I'm being asked to share him. I hurt because I selfishly want him all to myself. I hurt because he hurts. I hurt because I can't just walk away. God knows I want to, but I just can't.
I hear his soft words in my ears again, “You know I'd do it for you.”
And he would. I knew Tommy would do anything for me. My tears turn to meet his. “Then make me a promise.”
“Anything,” he nods.
“When you're laying next to her...and when there's someone with me...it's not them we're with...it's us...promise me.” My shaky voice pleads.
“I promise,” he says embracing me tightly as sobs let go. “I love you so much Nikki.”
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