This boy (Robert Smith x reader)

Overdose (30)

MAYA'S POV

A few days had passed and I'd finally made it to the weekend. I'd woken up to a quiet house that Saturday morning. So quiet that it almost made me uncomfortable.

It was the weekend, and usually I'd wake up to the TV or some sort of music playing. Sometimes I'd even wake to Nikki playing instruments. But this morning the silence was my music.

I got out of bed, hearing every step I took loud and clearly. I even heard my own breathing.

I opened my door, hearing as it made a loud creaking noise.

"Nikki?" I called, receiving no answer.

He must have left, I thought to myself.

I went downstairs, looking to see if maybe he just didn't hear me. Or if maybe he'd left home and left me a note.

He was nowhere. And there was no note left for me.

Something in me began to get worried, he never left without at least leaving a note. What made this time different?

I went back upstairs, telling myself that he might still even be asleep, as his bedroom door was still shut.

I hated to wake him, but I was beginning to get concerned.

We didn't party the night before or even stay up late, so I knew he wasn't hung over, and there was no way he was just sleeping in because it was almost mid-day. Typically he choose to wake up a lot earlier than me.

I knocked on his door softly, not wanting to startle him.

"Nikki? You up?" I spoke gently.

No answer.

"Nikki?" I kept on.

No answer.

"Nikki are you ok?" I asked, my tone getting more scared and worried.

No answer.

I then chose to just open the door, my nerves beginning to go wild.

The door was open, the room smelt of drugs and cigarettes.

He didn't seem to be in sight, but I noticed the bathroom door was closed and the light was visibly on inside.

I creeped over hesitantly.

"Nikki? Are you in there?" I questioned, my voice more strained now.

Nothing.

"Nikki?" I asked again, twisting the knob to let myself in.

Slowly the door opened, revealing an unconscious Nikki laying on the ground, his pupils the size of dinner plates.

"Nikki, oh my god!" I screeched, falling down on my knees to shake him.

"Nikki wake up!" I cried as I shook him in hopes of doing something.

As my screams echoed through the house, I noticed the drugs and tools all over the floor through my teary eyes.

He'd been injecting himself with heroin.

Abruptly I jumped up, running downstairs to the phone.

"911 what's you're emergency?" The operator spoke.

"Help me! I need an ambulance, quick! Nikki Sixx overdosed! We're at his house, please hurry!" I cried.

"Alright Ma'am calm down, just stay on the line with me. We're sending over an ambulance now."

"Ok, please hurry!" I replied, my voice groggy as I struggled to catch my breath.

"It's all going to be ok ma'am. You're gonna be alright." The operator soothed.

For a moment, I believed them. I really believed that everything would go back to normal in the end. I should've known that wasn't going to be the case though.

***

"On this unfortunate night for rock and roll culture, we mourn the death of the famous bassist, Nikki Sixx, from Mötley Crüe. Time of death, 7:58 P.M. September 28th, 1987." The TV played.

I couldn't help but sob once more.

I sat on Mick Mars couch at 9:30 P.M. along with the rest of the band and their wife's or girlfriends. Steven Tyler from Aerosmith was also there, mourning as Nikki and him were good friends.

All of us were silent, not able to speak from the sadness that overcame us.

We'd all spent so much time in the hospital that day, hoping, praying to god that he'd make it. But after many dreadful hours, the doctors informed us that there was nothing else they could do.

Nikki was gone, and there was nothing else we could do. Mötley Crüe was over, as well as my security and close friendship, or situation-ship really. Whatever it was, it was over.

The scene of his dead body wouldn't leave my mind. I remember being by his side at the hospital and feeling his cold, limp body. I couldn't stop crying and shaking.

Nikki was all I had, but death had to take him away from me.

I didn't know what to do from there. Where would I go? How would I support myself? Who would keep me company now? Would I ever find someone else like him? He was a great person to me, and I'd always love him for that, platonically. But there was always a small part of me who loved him romantically, but I feel that was only because he loved me romantically. I only liked the chase, not actually him.

My face laid in my palms as tears continued to slip from my eyes.

I needed to call someone for help, somebody close to me.

I'd have to call Robert and ask for help.

I didn't want to burden anyone from Mötley as they already had their own problems since their own band member had passed.

It all felt like rock bottom, and I think it was. It was ironic because I thought I'd already experienced that, but I hadn't.

                                         ***

Ring...ring...

"Hello" he answered.

"Robert?" I spoke, my voice strained from crying and wailing so long.

"Maya?" He answered, his voice sounding worried and concerned.

"Um, I know this might seem sudden, but-" I attempted to say before I was cut off my my own cries.

"Nikki, he- he overdosed...and I don't know what to do or where to go anymore. I was gonna ask if you could help me in any way." I choked out.

"Hey, it's gonna be alright. Everything's going to be fine. And I'll help you Maya, as much as you need." He comforted.

"Thank you so much." I sobbed again, I couldn't control myself.

"Of course love, I want to help." He said soothingly.

"I need to get out of L.A., soon. I don't think I can stay here much longer." I spoke in almost a whisper as I tried to control my breathing.

"I'll book you a flight back to England, everything's gonna be alright. Ok?"

"Ok, thank you so much, really." I thanked him, wiping my tears the seemed to be never ending.

"Of course Maya, I love you." He soothed once more.

"I love you too."