Söbriety • Mötley Crüe •

35. The Foreskins

Warnings: Mentions of Previous Drug Use, Smut

Ryan's POV

Sitting perfectly on the corner of the Sunset Strip with the words "The Foreskins" placed in big black letters on the marquee, the Whisky a Go Go is practically dead compared to its normal buzzing night life. Granted, it's only 6 PM and the stragglers don't normally pile in from the streets looking for booze and sex until about eight.

I've been to the Whisky more than a hundred times in the last seven years, but it's unique stench of booze, sweat and cigarettes never fails to knock me over every time I enter the building.

Being pregnant, it nearly knocks me out cold.

"You okay? Are you feeling bad?"

"I'm fine, Nik. Just excited to see you play an actual show for the first time." A smile spreads across his face like wild fire when I run my fingertips across his cheek.

Now that he knows he can play sober after the disaster that was the Moscow Peace Festival, all he could talk about the past few days was bringing me along to watch him tonight. I wouldn't miss it for the world since they decided to start their tour overseas, my plan of going to the first few shows blowing up.

We walk backstage into the tiny room designated as their dressing room, a cooler of beer and several Jack Daniels bottles set on the coffee table. I point to it and raise my eyebrow at Nikki, who shrugs in response.

"I guess they didn't get the memo that we're sober now. Can't blame them, we ran them out of Jack every time we've played here before."

"I bet I could've given you a run for your money." I wink at him and he scoffs, blowing me off.

"This is Fred. He'll be with you in the crowd to make sure nobody fucks with you since you're damned and determined to not stay back stage."

He's not impressed with my decision to go into the crowd like everyone else, but I want the full Mötley Crüe experience. I extend my hand to the mountain of a man in front of me, his soft and delicate handshake completely contrasting his looks and how he holds himself.

I've heard many stories involving Fred Saunders, and I'm not sure I would have Nikki if Fred wouldn't have kept him from killing himself or someone else all these years. He's a rather handsome man, with a full mane of dark hair on top of his head and an even fuller beard on his face. I blush when I realize I've been staring for too long.

"It's nice to meet you, Ryan. I've heard so much about you."

"I've heard a lot about you as well, Fred. Enough to know you deserve a raise."

"Oh, I like her." Fred laughs, looking at Nikki while he points at me.

"Stupid fucking bitch. Fucking cunt thinks she can just-" Tommy barrels through the door, cussing under his breath, his eyes widening when he sees us standing in the middle of the room. "Sorry." He mutters, throwing his bag on one of the counters with a mirror attached to it. "Heather's being a bitch."

What's new?

"Hey, fuckers!" Vince bops into the room practically jumping up and down in excitement, an unimpressed looking Sharise following behind him. She shakes her head at me when I start to ask what's wrong, and I snap my mouth back closed.

The eclectic variety of moods in this room would make anybody confused. I keep my mouth shut and plop onto a couch, not wanting to get in anyone's way.