Karma's Happenstance (Guns n Roses - Izzy Stradlin/OC/Nikki Sixx - Mötley Crüe)

Never as planned

Izzy POV

Slash and I lounge at our favorite spot down on Sunset Blvd, waiting for that dealer Sixx hooked us up with. Don't get me wrong, I like being around here and I'm used to hanging around but this time I can't get back to the mansion fast enough. Back to my church girl. I hate leaving her for a second. I don't trust anyone around her.

I'm fucking pissed I had to leave her alone because of that motherfucking dealer. What a fucking douche. But then Nikki seemed like the fucking kind of guy who could out douche anyone. Anyway, the asshole dealer refused to make a home delivery because apparently we are all over the news.

Someone found out we are staying at Nikki's place and that a hell of a party was going on there. I can only assume this to be true considering the condition of Sixx's fucking house. I'm an expert of sorts at assessing damages...So let's just say my fucking soul, my balls, my life, everything I have is pretty much under the ownership of Nikki Sixx. Not a good place to be Isbell. But I'm still floating from some pretty memorable sex so I ain't even trippin' yet. That will come later when I have to face Sixx again.

I can't help letting out a snort. I'm really amazed that anyone from the press would even give a shit about us. Okay, we might hang with Mötley Crüe but we're still unsigned and not really famous. Hence explaining why the fuck we hang out with Mötley Crüe in the first goddamn place. I guess, as Karma would have it, Slash is the reason why I owe Nikki Sixx my entire fucking existence.

He met Nikki back when Nikki was still in London, the band he was in before Mötley Crüe. Even back then Nikki was a fucking star, on Sunset anyway. He could totally sell out the fucking Stardust on a Saturday night. Everybody knew Nikki and wanted to hang out with him. So underage Slash and Stevie wait around until after a show and go all stalker on his ass. But by some freak of nature, Slash and Nikki hit it off. Now again, Slash is all on his dick because he thinks it'll get us signed.

Who the fuck knows if anybody will ever show up to sign us anyway. We are fucking troublemakers. Can we top Mötley fucking Crüe? Probably not. But thanks to Nikki fucking Sixx every record company in the world knows not to sign anything remotely close to Crüe. I suppose we are remotely close, therefore we are dead in the water anyway. We're just a band full of junkies and unreliable jerks. Seriously. Talent aside, I wouldn't even sign us! I'm fucking sure we would blow our advance payment in just one night for dope and booze.

I shuffle back closer to a wall, hiding in the shadow. I'm still a little careful lurking through the streets. Not long ago there was a bounty on my fucking head. But Sixx took care of it, right? I fucking hope so. I mean I don't trust him...but the bastard did save my wretched life. Otherwise  Slash is going to have to drag me back to that weird Obi Wan guy in Chinatown to let him stitch me up again. Maybe get my fucking fortune told some more. Why not throw a total mind fuck on me, right?

Slash is leaning beside me, chain smoking. Yeah, it's time we get a fucking fix. Where the fuck is that dealer? I'm slowly losing patience here. People are starting to look at us. We aren't exactly the kinds of guys who look like every other guy. We draw stares just from having long hair. Imagine what leather and chains and shit does. I usually don't stick around anywhere for long. It's just easier to avoid fights and shit if I just keep moving. Geez, where the fuck is this damn guy? This better not be one of Nikki's fucking pranks.

"You Stradlin?" a voice startles me from behind. What the fuck? Where does that guy even come from? Better yet, why didn't Slash notice anything? Way to have my fucking back there bro!

I turn to look at the guy and can barely hold a snicker. Yeah, that surely is the dealer of the fucking rockstars. He must be somewhere on top of the drug supply chain. I've been dealing for a while now and I have never met guys like him. They usually don't do the dirty work. They leave that to the stupid fucks like me.

That guy looks like he just jumped out of the fucking Scarface movie. Dressing like Al Pacino with silk shirt, a fucking suit and shiny shoes. Fucking Gold and Armani. His shades alone probably cost more than my entire shitty wardrobe. Hell, does he want to get killed around here? I wonder how in hell a guy like that even dares to get out on these streets, when I notice the car. Sure. Guys like him don't show up without backup. I probably have a fucking gun pointed at my head right now.

"Yeah, " I say, flipping my cigarette out on the street. "You Ray?"

He doesn't care to answer. Arrogant jerk. Typical of Nikki's ilk.

"Five grand for your shit. A hundred for every fucking minute you're keeping me from taking care of the important stuff." He says annoyed and I wonder how I-don't-give-a-shit Nikki gets along with that douche. I'm pretty sure I have an idea. Nikki probably beat his fucking ass the first time he met him. Now this guy is probably actually scared of Nikki. Believe me, Nikki takes no fucking shit off anyone.

Wait, did he just say five grand? I frown. "Woah, man. Nikki said you'd provide us with the shit. No fucking word about paying for it." I shake my head. This is nuts.

"Just put it on Nikki's tab, man." Slash slurs behind me. "He's a friend."

This is fucking ridiculous. If I was going to pay for that shit, I wouldn't care to buy from this guy and pay way more than street price. That Ray guy frowns at Slash and I get a very bad feeling in my gut. Messing with him might not a good idea. Before I can say anything else he shoves a piece in my face. Fuck me! Here we go again. I bet I'll be back in Chinatown before dawn.

I slowly raise my hands and hope Slash is doing the same. Please god don't let Slash's Karma fuck me today!

"Are you fucking insane, you punk? Wasting my time like this? You owe me at least four hundred for this." He hisses. I mentally say goodbye to my girl. No fucking way I'm going to survive this shit.

But then he puts back up the gun and gives me a wicked smile. "Tell Sixx to never send me fucking punks like you again. You want dope, you fucking pay for it!" Within a second he turns on his shiny heels and walks away, driving off in that fancy car.

"What the fuck was that?" Slash asks with a gaping jaw but I can't give him more than a shrug. Luckily I got over this encounter without getting a hole in my body. Anyhow I'm pretty sure this puts us back at the drawing board. Step one, procure cash. Step two, cop dope. Step three, get high. Step four, repeat.