They're opening for Ozzy Osbourne. It's their first tour and they're opening for Ozzy-fucking-Osbourne! Mick isn't exactly thrilled, but the rest of them are.
"Oh my god," the first time Lola sees him, she's by Doc's side as he introduces the Motley Crue to the man himself and his backup band. She's wide-eyed, and the words slip out with her even meaning them to, flustered and a little starry-eyed. Catching herself a little too late, she ignores Motley Crue's faint amusement, and slips into her cool, professional facade as Doc makes his introductions. The bands shake hands, and then he introduces Lola as Motley's assistant; Ozzy himself makes an indecipherable noise in the back of his throat, which actually makes Mick laugh in a way she's never quite heard before, and she knows that in that moment, every single person in that room is aware of the true nature of her relationship with the band, simply by virtue of being in the industry for so long. She refuses to feel ashamed, and meets each and every band members' gaze as she shakes their hands in turn.
Being on tour means hotels, hours spent by the pool, interviews in every new city, and trying to wrangling them into a decent state in the morning when every nights a party. They're the kings of debauchery, debasing themselves and the women they're with at every given opportunity, much to Doc's chagrin, and as much as Lola's a great help at wrangling the band, she could also be just as bad as them.
Interviews were, without fail, the worst.
Lola's wearing a blazer that's definitely actually Doc's, and she's waiting to see how long it is until he realises, and holding a clipboard she snatched from a harried person wearing a headset who didn't even seem to notice. She's scouring the room for a pair of glasses she can filch when she feels an arm wrap around her.
"Have you seen glasses anywhere?" Lola asks; without even having to look she knows it's one of her boys. Judging by the way he gives her hip a squeeze, it's Vince.
"Glasses?" He's looking over her shoulder at the clipboard, scoffing when he reads the words 'Shout With The Devil'.
These interviews are all the same, and just like always she'll leave with a handful of souvenirs she's not meant to, doing a run for booze and smokes while the boys see fit to entertain themselves, at least one of them taking a shot at the interviewer, provided they were female. They hear the derisive 'Shout With The Devil' and accusations of satanism come from a woman's puritan lips and they take it like a challenge; Nikki because he likes to corrupt and Tommy because he'll fuck anything that moves and he likes girls who are mean, though Vince knows there's fans waiting and doesn't bother throwing his hat in this particular ring. And Lola remains an afterthought; she's not new and exciting the way a myriad of fans are. It's not that she's not secure, she's not going to be left in whatever town they're in, but she feels more and more like she's becoming an afterthought.
"Glasses," she confirms with a slight grin, wiggling her eyebrows at him as she tries to push her doubts to the side, "so I look a serious, professional assistant-"
"So they won't question you if you start putting random shit in your pockets from around the studio." He's smiling like he knows her well, and yeah, okay, maybe he does. Lola's grin widens.
"A little petty theft never killed anyone," and she knows the tone to take to make him smile, to make him choose her over any other girl in the moment. Vince's heart beats a melody she knows all the words to, and sometimes it's good to know she's still in key.
He rolls his eyes and kisses her, and she calls him a hypocrite and kisses him back, and someone else - a man with a clipboard and a headset - asks her who she is, how she got in. Vince doesn't let her go, though when she turns, Lola's smile is the same one she wore back on The Strip when bands who didn't really know her questioned her roadie-ing capabilities; mean and humourless. When she tells him she's their assistant, he scoffs, looks her over, and Doc's jacket does little to hide the cropped tour shirt she'd worn, or the black leather pants she'd squeezed into, looking less like a professional and more like a groupie.
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Run to Paradise {Nikki Sixx | The Dirt}
Fanfiction" the girl is crafty like ice is cold. " Nikki and Lola met before they were Nikki and Lola, before Motley Crue, before they were even eighteen; they were just two shitty teenagers, looking to escape their shitty childhoods. So together they turn in...
