Söbriety • Mötley Crüe •

46. Fucked Up

Warnings: Drug & Alcohol Use

Ryan's POV

"Tommy Lee! Get the fuck down from there, you're going to fall and crack your fucking head open!" I stomp my foot onto the ground and try to muster up my most intimidating mom voice, but he just continues to swing from the rafters on the stage like they're monkey bars. I'm loud enough that I know he can hear me over the music and is just choosing to ignore me.

"Oh my God, that's Tommy Lee!" People point from their seats, realizing who he is.

"I'm so sorry." I mouth to the stripper on stage, but she just shrugs her shoulders and winks at me. Mötley Crüe could get away with murder.

This is not how I wanted my wedding night to go.

"Baby!" I close my eyes and pretend I can't hear Nikki calling me from our table. "Wife! Come here!" I groan, giving one last look to the lunatic swinging across the stage before I give up and head back to the group.

"Are you okay?" Sharise whispers in my ear as I sit down, and I quickly shake my head no.

"Hey, wife. That sounds so fuckin' cool, man. You're my fucking wife. Are you really my wife?" Spit flies out of his mouth as he over exaggerates the 'f'. He drapes his arm around me and his booze filled breath makes me crinkle my nose.

"Yes, I'm your wife." Although, right now I wish I wasn't.

I always wondered what it would be like if I had met Mötley before they got sober. I don't have to wonder anymore- they're fucking obnoxious.

"Come on and have a shot with me, lesbian!" Vince slurs through his sentence, trying not lose his balance and fall to the side of the booth.

"Hey! You can't fucking call her that anymore, you fucking douchebag! She's my wife!" I slap Nikki's arm out of my face as he points at Vince, both of them starting to laugh uncontrollably.

"Were they always this awful?" I put my head on Sharise's shoulder and wrap my arms around her bicep, wishing I could just go back to the hotel. I miss my daughter. Riley was smart enough to know to take her back to the hotel as soon as Nikki asked me if he could drink some champagne.

"Yes." She answers me quickly, and I feel bad that she had to deal with this absurdity for years before they finally got sent to rehab.

I'm too sober for this shit.

I chuckle to myself- who knew I'd be one of the more sober people tonight?

"Give me the keys." I have to punch Nikki in the arm for his attention as he ogles all of the half naked chicks walking the room as if we didn't just get married.

"You can't leave!"

"I'm not fucking leaving, I just need something out of the car."

"Don't leave, okay?" His voice turns into a whine as he digs the keys out of his pocket and drops them into my hand. I put my palm up to Sharise for her to stay and she rolls her eyes as I slide out of the booth.

"No fucking leaving!" Tommy's voice is surprisingly loud as he drops from a rafter onto the stage with a thump. My face flushes red with embarrassment and anger as everyone in the club turns to look at what the idiot on stage is pointing at.

"I'm not fucking leaving! Jesus Christ!" I flap my arms in the air in anger and slam the door open so hard that it crashes into the rock wall next to it.

I didn't expect it to go this bad this fast. Is this how it's gonna be from now on? Are we just saying fuck sobriety forever? I don't think I can handle this version of Nikki forever, or any of them.