Starry I think not (terrorcest)

The night before

A/N: its funny how you guys call Tommy and Nikki names like Love and Baby, like thats just adorable and I love it so much. Reading the comments you guys leave is truly the best part of my day. I love you all!!!

1 month later, Nikki Sixx

Tommys getting married tomorrow, and I haven't been sober since he asked me to be his best man. I mean I wasn't sober before, but I've thrown myself into heroins arms

the dread has made me throw up twice today. That or the PCP. But I have planned a kickass bachelor party for the ages. Before the old ball and chain drags him down.

Fuck Sixx, what if he quits the band?!

That thought hits me so hard that I nearly tumble down the stairs. He won't do that. He can't. I have no doubt in my best friend, because we both love this band to death. The thought still worries me though.

I grip my morning bottle of vodka tighter, so it won't drop. "Morning hellhole." I mumble.

The mansions in a sad state, so is the garden. It was nice when I moved in, but then I threw a TV and smashed the Peonies. Also I tend to crawl around in there, screaming.

I grab my diary, filled with its illegible scribbling, haunting entries, and slightly burnt pages. I may have dropped it once or twice. "Heyyyyy." Some chick says, sitting up on my couch. I don't remember her, so I flip back through my diary, trying to find something from yesterday.

'I picked up a couple of girls while on my beer run today. I probably look like shit, and smell like it too, but as long as they get to fuck a rockstar who cares?

They'll be nice guinea pigs for the stripper pole I had put in my room. They better not touch my stash though. Speaking of which, I'm low on smack. I've been burning through it like crazy with Tommys wedding coming up.

I thought about killing myself, yet again today. But I couldn't do that. One, because I always know my mistress heroin has got me cradled in her sweet arms of poisonous affection. And two, because I would miss Mötley.'

I shut the diary, having a slight understanding of what I did the day before.

"Get out." I order.

The girl, who's stark naked, seductively walks up to me, taking my face in her hand. I roll my eyes. It's called a one night stand for a reason.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay...longer?" She asks in a sultry tone. Her cherry red lips turn up at the corners, into some half-snarky smile.

I roughly yank her hand away from my face, not exactly enjoying her tight squeeze.

"Nah, you're not exactly my type." I say, giving her a smarmy half smile.

Well duh, my type is a six foot something drummer with wild dark hair, and passionate eyes. And the personality of a fucking demon on crack.

She seems hurt, her mouth dropping into a pout and her eyes glaring daggers into me.

"FINE!" She says pissily, stomping out the front door.

Her name was Denise, I remember writing about her about 5 this morning after both she and her friend, Cara fell asleep. As far as they know, I enjoyed it immensely.

And I did, but I really wish that it was Tommy in my bed. And I wish that it was Tommy riding me.

I go upstairs, taking more from my stash, and injecting the only happiness I know anymore into my veins. Then I wait, destroying myself mentally until it's time to leave for Tommys.

I drive to his house, going over our dinner, drinking, and stripper show. My hands are tapping the steering wheel, since I'm still off the walls on coke.

"LEEEEEE!!!!" I yell, running into his -and Heathers- house. I'm already starting to crave heroin again, since I haven't injected since this morning. The highs usually last a while, but I need more and more.

"Heya Sixx-Dawg!" He greets, bounding into the living room with a silly grin on his face. I'm entranced by his wide smile, and the way it makes his eyes glitter.

Every time I see him smile, I think of the song 'Tonight'. I wrote that about him after the time he gave me a strip tease and then fucked me sore, and then we fell asleep together.

'But when you smiled I had to take a chance to be with you tonightttt.'

Heather and her actress friends are sitting on the living room floor. "No strippers!" She calls.

"You're just worried he could find someone with nicer tits than you. Which shouldn't be hard to do." I fire back, giving her the middle finger.

She gasps. "OH MY GOD!" She squeaks like the annoying bitch she is.

"Nikki she's my fiancee man!" Tommy chides, but I see him crack a small smile.

I grab his arm and lead him outside.

"No strippers!" Heather parrots again. JESUS CHRIST YOU DUMB BITCH JUST CHILL. We're Mötley Crüe, of course there's strippers!

"So there's gonna be strippers right?" Tommy asks, slinging an arm around my shoulder and pulling me close as we walk to my car.

"Come on T-bone, it's me, I know what you like!" I huff, poking him in the ribs.

The rest of the night is a blur, and all too soon, it's morning. Time to get ready for the day a part of me dies. The day I lose my best friend. The day I lose the love of my life.