This is a long chapter. I added a lot of dialogue to the completed original version. It's long enough to be divided into two, but I didn't want to interrupt the flow of the day's events, which take place.
Due to the lengthiness of this chapter and some unexpected events that came up, my beta reader was only able to proofread about 75% of the chapter.
This might be my favorite chapter of the book. I enjoyed writing it. I like the dynamics and dialogue between Nikki & Mick and Tommy & Jon. That said, yes, Tommy continues on with his poor behavior. You'll probably hate some of what's unfolding. But, I do hope you enjoy the read. There's a ton of pictures throughout.
There a special gem included in this chapter for my most consistent, long-standing reader and commenter, WestHamBabe. You may enjoy a few other lines in the chapter, but you will know without a doubt when you see your little gift. Enjoy.
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Nikki woke up for the second time that day. The phone was ringing, and there was no extension in the guest room where he'd been sleeping. Fuck it, the machine will pick up. His head still hurt. As a matter of fact, he thought that his head hadn't stopped hurting since he and Tommy got into it about the baby. Those aches and pains seemed to just be his new norm.
Nikki sat up, with his legs hanging off the side of the bed. He realized that he was still in the same clothes that he wore to the party last night. Not at all the type of clothes that were comfortable for sleeping, lounging, and pondering one's shithole of a life.
He vaguely remembered asking Tommy to go hiking with him earlier in the day. He didn't know what he was thinking. It was just another futile attempt to try to bond with Tommy, met with failure. He wasn't going to hike. He'd have been too tempted to just get lost out in the wilderness. Nikki got up, and shed his stifling clothes for something more comfortable. He stepped out of the bedroom. The house seemed quiet. The master bedroom door was open, and Tommy wasn't there. Upon a quick inspection of the rest of the premises, he wasn't anywhere, inside or outside. He was gone, without a word.
Nikki remembered that someone had just tried to call about 15 minutes earlier. Maybe it was Tommy. He played the message. It was Mick, asking if he felt better. Nikki had a very vague, blurry memory about calling Mick last night. He thought maybe he did, anyway he called him back.
"Hello?" Mick answered.
"Morning, Mick. Did I call you last night?" Nikki asked.
"Yeah, you did. I can't stand your fucking, drunken late night calls."
"Oh, shit. I'm sorry. I guess--"
"Eh, it's OK, pal. But, going forward, I'm going to come over there and put blaring labels on each of your phone receivers that have my name within a red, circular prohibited symbol. It will remind you not to call me at 2 am when you're drunk."
"I suppose that I just needed to talk."
"If you call it that. Did Tommy come home last night?"
"Yeah. But I don't know when.... I passed out. He was here when I woke up this morning, but now he's gone again. I don't know where he went," Nikki sighed.
"Did you always know where he was going everytime he walked out the door?" Mick asked.
"Believe it or not. Most of the time, yes. He's doing this to hurt me."
"Nikki, why don't you go out somewhere. Get some vitamin D from the sunshine. You need a distraction."
"I thought about going for a hike, but it's getting too late to go. I don't have the energy and I just don't care."
"I'm gonna pick you up, then. Emi is visiting her mom today."
"I guess," Nikki exhaled unenthusiastically.
"Get dressed and try not to smell bad, Dummy Downer. I'll be there in a half hour," Mick said, as he hung up the phone.
Fuck. Nikki was perfectly content to sit home and wallow around in pity. But no Mick had to be all zippity-doo-fucking-dah for the first time in his life. He went back into his room to find yet another outfit to wear.
---------------------
Mick pulled up thirty minutes later, and laid on the horn.
Nikki looked out the front window and shook his head. The bastard couldn't even come up and knock like a normal person would have. The beeping continued. It wasn't that type of neighborhood. Fuck.
Nikki stepped out the front door, as Mick kept blaring the horn.
He was at the car door. He knew that Mick saw him there, and he was still on the damn horn.
Nikki flung the door open with anger.
"Rat-a-tat-tat. How'd you like that?" Mick said, sporting a rare grin.
"I'm going to rip the horn off and shove it so far up your ass that all of your farts are going to come out as beeps! What the hell? I happen to like my neighbors you know."
"Lighten up, fool. Uncle Mick wants you to just have a little fun today."
Nikki reached over and leaned on the horn. "That means fuck you in street language," Nikki snapped, finally followed by a little laughter. "Where are we going, Disneyland?"
"Not a bad idea, but no. Although, I think those Mickey Rat ears might look good on us."
"Then where, the insane asylum?"
"No, but that's something to think about. We should go find one of the abandoned haunted ones, and take a tour."
"Fuck that shit. The last thing I need is some wise-ass ghost attaching itself to me, and fucking my life up even more. I've been there, done that with all of that occult crap."
"And people think that I'm the boring one in the band. Pshaw," Mick said, with a wave of his hand. "I'll refrain from scaring the shit out of you today, instead we're going shopping. Then we're going to get some fucking ice cream. With sprinkles. And no dark chocolate death sprinkles for you. Happy rainbow ones, to brighten up your motherfucking day."
"Are you OK, Mick?"
"Don't worry about me," Mick replied, hauling ass out of Nikki's driveway.
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At Jon's condo -
"Wow, you're right. This view of the valley is the shit!" Tommy hollered, standing at the plate glass window.
"Yeah. That's what Richie said when I first brought him here. I've had this place for a few years. But, I'm thinking of selling it soon."
"Why? You're only here part time. This is perfect for part-time living," Tommy said, turning himself around in the room, with his hands out, as if to showcase the unit.
"I don't know. I guess you just move on from things sometimes."
"I'd never get sick of looking out at the view," Tommy replied, back to facing the window, oblivious to Jon's sullen tone.
"Tom, come here," Jon said, taking him by the arm out onto the balcony.
Tommy complied, and was even more exhilarated outside. "Dude, what the fuck! I'd never go inside. I mean, I've been to some pretty awesome vantage points up in the hills, but I've never seen a view so broad." Tommy shouted out a resounding whoop.
"Look," Jon said, pointing to an area below. "See that house with the clay tile roof and two palm trees together? You can just see the edge of the pool?"
"The one with the two chimneys?" Tommy asked, pointing.
"Yeah that one."
Tommy looked and shrugged, waiting for an explanation.
"That's where Heather Locklear lives. I just don't feel like looking at that fucking montrosity of a house anymore. It's all I see now, and it's polluting my damn view."
Tommy looked back out. The house didn't particularly stick out as a nuisance more than any other house on the downward slope. But he knew what Jon's getting at, and how fucked it must have been to constantly have to look down at that offensive site; wondering who was inside, and what they were doing.
"Let's go inside, I'll make you a cocktail. Mixology is a little hobby of mine," Jon said, with a sweeping gesture of his arm.
"I don't know about that. I guzzle fucking beer, whiskey, vodka, bourbon. All of the mixology happens in my gut. But, whatever.... If you wanna show off, be my guest."
"Come on, you know some mixed drinks. Throw one at me. I'm ready to impress you with my skills."
"OK. Uh, Sex On The Beach?"
"Come on, I'm not making you that pink pussy drink."
Tommy laughs. "How about Cum On My Nose."
"What the hell is that? That's not in my repertoire."
"Well, it should be," Tommy said, sporting a sly grin, as he went back to the window to look out.
"You're a dirty little fucker, aren't you? Let me surprise you with something."
Within a few minutes Jon came up to Tommy with two glasses in his hands.
Tommy took the drink. "What is it?"
" A Slow Comfortable Screw," Jon said, followed by a snarky grin, glass raised for a toast.
After the glasses clinked, Tommy slammed it back in a few gulps, with an exaggerated gasp when he finished.
Jon's eyes went wide. "You're supposed to sip it, clown."
"Another one please. I'm more of a wham, bam, thank you, man type guy," Tommy replied, followed by a wink and his broad, quirky grin.
Jon handed him his own drink, and Tommy knocked it back just as quickly. There was one thing for certain, that motherfucker was a handful.
"Just get me the fucking bottle of whatever that shit was."
"Nah, man. That's sloe gin," Jon said, as he fished around for something more to Tommy's liking.
"Whatever the fuck that is. Got any fast gin?" Tommy laughed himself into snort. "I wanna get drunk faster."
"Sloe is a type of berry, dumbass," Jon laughed. "Here. Kentucky bourbon." Jon handed the bottle to Tommy.
He opened it, and took a good swig, then handed it back to Jon, who also took from the bottle.
"I always love the taste of bourbon on a kiss. It's like sweet caramel; better than berries."
Tommy took the bottle back from Jon, downed some more, then set it on an end table. He smiled and put his hand out for the singer to take.
Jon responded by taking Tommy's hand, who pulled him in close. The drummer looked down at the shorter man; not something that he was used to. Nonetheless, he drew his lips closer to Jon's mouth. They connected.
Jon came up for air. "Tom, come on.... to my room."
"I'm sure you know that I have a reputation for what's below my belt," Tommy, breathed.
Jon took a small step back to put his hands on Tommy's belt, then started to unbuckle it. "Everybody knows that."
Tommy smirked crookedly, just like Nikki would. He's picked up some of his traits and didn't even know it.
"Come on. Let's move away from the windows," Jon commanded, as he tugged on the waist of Tommy's jeans.
"Coming," Tommy replied, following Jon to his bedroom.
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Beverly Hills, Rodeo Drive -
Mick parked his car.
"You shop here?" Nikki asked.
"Eh, Emi likes it."
Nikki didn't reply. Although he had accepted Emi into his close circle, he still thought that she had a flair for Mick's money. She was nice, and they seemed happy, but time will tell.
"What do you want, Sixx? Hats are over there. Sunglasses over there," Mick said, pointing in different directions.
"Do you think I should get something special for Tommy? Like a peace offering, or is that too obvious?"
"I don't know what to tell you, cowboy," Mick replied, referring to Nikki's choice of hat today. "I don't know if a material gift will fix the rift between you two, but it's still thoughtful. If I were shopping for him, I'd walk myself over to that kitchen gadget store on the opposite corner. There's a lot of sharp ass shit in there. Plenty of finely crafted tools for clean slicing."
Nikki furrowed his brows at that comment. "I guess I'll just see. Maybe something special will catch my eye."
The pair ducked in and out of stores. Nikki didn't see much, but he bought a new pair of sunglasses for himself. They walked further down the block, and stopped to sign a few autographs along the way.
After the fans walked away happily, with the coveted signatures, Mick elbowed Nikki. "Look," he said, throwing his chin in the direction of a store that they were standing in front of.
Nikki's pleasant demeanor went limp.
"Come on, Nik, let's go in. I think it will do you some good."
Nikki took a deep breath. "I'm not sure if I know what to do in this type of store."
"Buy something," Mick said, as he nudged him towards the entrance to a designer clothing store for babies and toddlers.
"I don't even know if it's a boy, or a girl."
"Then buy something in white or yellow.... or clear."
Nikki smiled at that comment; Mick and his clear.
They stepped in, and Nikki froze. What the hell kind of place were they at? How are people that tiny. How do they fit into these clothes? Oh god.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen. May I help you with something?" the shopkeeper asked.
"I... uh, I--" Nikki stammered.
"We're looking for a gift," Mick blurted out.
"For a boy, or a girl?"
"We don't know. The mother is pregnant."
"Oh," she smiled. "Well let me lead you to the newborn area, Mr. Mars and Mr. Sixx."
Nikki's heart hit the floor as he realized he had been recognized. Fuck. How was he gonna get out of this one?
"Fine, thank you," Mick replied.
"Please let me know if you have any questions. Oh, and... is anyone related to the band expecting?" The shopkeeper couldn't resist asking.
Well, there was Sharise, but that was not their business to share. "Just someone we know," Mick responded.
"I see. I'm here if you need any help making a decision," the woman said, walking away.
"Nikki... Fucking breath, man."
"OK. Um, who are we getting a gift for, Vince?" Nikki asked.
"Buy something for yourself, you fool," Mick said, knocking him on the shoulder. "Get anything. I think you just need to take a step towards grasping this reality. It will help keep you distracted."
Nikki spun himself around, feeling overwhelmed by the amount of tiny stuff that surrounded him.
"Holy shit," Nikki sighed, as he rubbed a hand down his face. "How many different outfits do babies usually need?"
"About a thousand because they poo, piss, and throw up on their clothes all day. But don't worry about that. People will buy you stuff. One thing, Nikki. Just get one thing. Even if it's just one of these rattles or a stuffed animal," Mick said, as he waved a rattle in front of Nikki's face. "A boo, boo, boo. A boo, boo, boo."
"Mick, knock it off. What is with you today?" Nikki said, forcing the rattle from Mick's hand, and tossed it back into the basket.
"I'm not letting you leave this store until you find something," Mick commanded, as he shoved him towards the clothing racks.
Nikki took a deep breath and tried to relax, but he couldn't seem to get his brain to function in a way that was helpful with taking in what he was looking at. It was all blending together, like a psychedelic, swirling pastel rainbow. Then he saw it. A spotlight from the track lighting was shining down on it, like it was a gift from the heavens above.
Nikki walked over and picked up a leopard-spotted, or he preferred to think jaguar-spotted onesie. Not only that, it said, I saved the biggest spot in my heart for my Daddy. This was it, his one item. And it wasn't for him, it was for Tommy. Nikki's heart thumped loudly, as he could only hope at that moment that Tommy would choose to be father to this baby. He couldn't be sure whether this was a smart move, but he felt compelled to buy it anyway.
"Mick?" Nikki called out, with a nervous waver.
"Did you find something?"
Nikki nodded, "What size do I get? How do I know what size the baby will be?"
Mick laughed. "Doesn't matter, champ. I recommend 0-3 months. If it's too big, don't worry. The baby will grow."
"OK, let's just pay and go."
"I'll treat you to ice cream next, for putting you through this."
"You said that you weren't going to scare the shit out of me today," Nikki reminded MIck, finally able to smile a little. "And you also promised me sprinkles."
"You got 'em, kid."
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In the meantime, back at Jon's apartment -
Tommy and Jon were engaged in a round of hot, wild sex. Tommy was between Jon's legs.
"Oh my god, Tommy... ohhhhh, fuck me. Oh god," Jon groaned.
"Tell me how hard my cock feels, Jon. Tell me I'm beyond your expectations," Tommy growled. His drool dribbled out over Jon's neck, as he opened his mouth to suck on it again.
"You're hot as fuck, Tommy Lee. Oh god, you feel so good," Jon choked out.
"I'm hot for you... Fuck," Tommy panted, trying to keep up his pace, as he thrusted his length in and out of Jon. He kept it going.
Jon had pressed his fingernails into Tommy's backside flesh. Tommy welcomed the pain. "Oh fuck, Jon. Fucking maul me. Tear me up like a naughty whore!"
His appetite for sex was at a peak. He hadn't had it in a few weeks, with the exception of a few quickies with girls at the clubs. But this sex was raw and dirty, just the way he liked it.
"Tommy, please... right there... uhhh....don't stop," Jon stuttered, as his climax neared.
"You like that?" Tommy asked. "I'll give you what you need. Fuck your girlfriend. Fuck Richie. I got the goods, baby."
"What?" Jon questioned. No response came, but a moment later, he did. Announced by uncontrolled primal sounds and trembling.
Tommy was beside himself, as he watched Jon come undone. He pushed himself in, holding the position as he also came, shaking, feeling mighty. "God, that was good," Tommy roared, followed by his trademark howl. He lowered himself on top of Jon and snuck a kiss in, before he turned his head to the side to catch his breath. "Good fucking fuck, I needed that."
"Me too," Jon said, still breathing deeply.
Soon they unglued themselves, cleaned up, then scrounged for their clothes.
"Jon, I'm gonna go out on the balcony to have a smoke. Feel free to come join me," Tommy remarked, as he walked out of the bedroom without his shirt on.
"Tom?" Jon called out.
Tommy turned around and saw his shirt being tossed towards him.
"I doubt they look up, as much as I look down. But if I can see Heather's house, she can see mine."
"Gotcha.... Sorry," Tommy said, as he held his cig between his lips while putting his shirt on.
Jon joined the smoker out on the balcony, propped his feet up, and enjoyed the south sun of the late afternoon. "Hey Tommy, I'm not sure what you're thinking. But look, I'm the type of guy that doesn't think that it's my job to keep other people in line. You make your own fucking decisions. That said, I'm honestly not trying to mess anything up between you and Nikki. It's just that I saw an open window, and I decided to pursue it while the chance existed. That's all."
"Whatever happens with me and Nikki is on me, and him. You and I.... we're good, dude."
"Yeah. I got my own flaming pile of shit," Jon sighed. He hocked a fat loogie towards the direction of Heather's house.
"Don't get me wrong. I still have feelings for Nikki, but he started this. I don't think I did anything wrong. He fucking betrayed me. I would have never...." Tommy tried to reason, then stopped knowing he was now a hypocrite . He blew out a whole lot of smoke as he tapped his ashes. "I just got things to think about."
"Do you love him?"
"Dude, I can't talk about my feelings like that," Tommy replied, burning down the rest of his cigarette. He knew he loved Nikki, but he couldn't admit that to himself at that moment because of what just happened inside.
"Sorry, I guess I shouldn't have asked that. It's not my business."
"No sweat," Tommy resolved. He fumbled to put another cigarette to his lips.
"How about getting dinner? Jon asked, changing the subject. "We can stay in or go out? Unless you have to get home?"
"Dinner's cool, man," Tommy said, as he lightened up with a relaxed smile. He was nervous to go home, so he decided to prolong his day out.
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"Thanks for the ice cream, Mick," Nikki smiled, as he wiped a drip off of his wrist with a napkin " I never thought that I'd ever say something so cheesy sounding to you," Nikki grinned.
"You're welcome, kid," Mick replied, dusting his own hands off. He took a deep breath. "So, my friend.... I never asked you. Who was it?"
"What, Mick Mars wants in on the gossip?"
"No. I don't really give a shit. It's just... well you know, we're friends. I wanna know where your head's at. Like, who's your type, besides the obvious jackass type?"
Nikki snarled his brows. "I don't know if I want to share that info with you."
"Was it someone from another band, or someone in the business? I know that you'd never take a risk with a fan."
"He's in a band. He crashed my lonely pity party at the Cathouse," Nikki said, as he bit at his cuticle.
"Well, fucking tell me who it was! Robbin?"
"Oh god, no! He's one of my closest friends," Nikki bristled.
"So was Tommy."
"Yeah, and so are you, and I'm not looking to fuck you."
"Thank god," Mick replied, with a shiver.
"He's tall and skinny. That's what I like, OK?"
"Sebastian?" Mick asked, taking another guess.
"That's a no, to that juvenile prick."
"Gee, I could have swore that you liked the immature jerk-off type. I wonder why I thought that?"
Nick pursed his lips, knowing that was another dig on Tommy. "Guess again."
"Ooh, it's a game now? Warren?"
"Not Warren, and if you like games so much, how about I ask you? If you had to fuck one guy, who would it be? Who's your fantasy fuck? Everybody has one."
"Myself," Mick replied.
"Nah, that's a cop out."
"I have no desire to fuck any guy!" Mick said, getting prickly. "Or to be fucked by one."
"We're playing a game, and you're not following the rules. Who?" Nikki pressed. "I know that you've been fucked in the ass before. Maybe not by a guy, but with sex toys. You know how good it feels. So come on, who do you want to give you a truly satisfying ass fucking?"
"No one," Mick spat, crossing his arms.
"You won't answer because it's me, right? That's what I have to assume," Nikki snickered.
"Oh, you wish, cocksucker."
"Slip of the tongue there? I suck cock too. Maybe that's more your speed?"
"Stop!" Mick snapped. "God, Nikki, shut up! And was it Phil Lewis?"
"You started it. And no, he's an asshole," Nikki replied.
"Well, you know the saying, birds of a feather, flock together," Mick sneered.
"Yep. And if you ever wondered why we're such good friends, now you know."
"I know it, man. I wear that asshole badge proudly. Plus, it was Tom Keifer, wasn't it?" Mick asked with confidence, getting back to his own line of questioning. "And who's your fantasy fuck? Me, I bet."
"No to Tom Keifer. And my fantasy fuck is Tommy."
"Talk about a cop out. Come on, Sixx, you must have that one person? You say that everyone does. And you fucked Jani Lane."
"I didn't fuck Jani, and do you wanna know who my fantasy fuck is?" Nikki asked, cocking an eyebrow.
"Spill it now, or never. I'm in rare form today, and would typically never be asking such god awful questions about you."
Nikki grinned, knowing that Mick was trying to be halfway normal for once, and not so judgemental and martian-like. "Steve Harris is my fantasy fuck."
Mick gave Nikki a sideways glance. "You're kidding me, right? I never would have guessed. You don't even like Iron Maiden.
"It's his smile. Oh, and the accent that gets me weak in the knees. Plus we have the bass in common, and stripes. We both wore them, you know. He can come knocking between my thighs any day. We'll blend our stripes together into a hot swirl of sweaty sex, as he politely talks dirty to me with that accent," Nikki said with a lick of his lips. "Well, maybe just within my headspace. I'm trying to fix things right now."
"I can respect that refined choice. Much more than half of these bozos that you stomp around with on the L.A. scene. And it was Duff McKagen, right? Bass player."
"Nope."
"Fuck man. How many skinny, tall douchebags are there?" Mick asked, throwing his hands up in surrender.
"A fuck ton. It will keep you guessing for awhile."
"How about your female fantasy fuck? And it was Bobby Dall," Mick persisted.
"No for Bobby, and I'll throw in a no for Bret while I'm at it, to save you the trouble."
"Bret's not that tall."
"Taller than your gremlin ass. And my female fantasy fuck is Sophia Loren. You should know that already."
"She's your mother's age."
"That's just another way to say experienced. I'd be more than happy to have her teach me a thing or two, and we can suck each other dry," Nikki slurped, licking his lips again. "And wait, let me guess yours..... uuuhh.... Elvira," Nikki said, with a snicker.
"That was no fun. I wanted to keep you guessing," Mick said, with a frown. "But, I know it was Richie Sambora who you fucked."
"I would like to fuck Richie simply to piss Jon off. And I would fuck him hard, right in front of Jon until he screams my name, whether from pain or pleasure. But no, it wasn't him. And are you serious about Elvira? I was joking."
"I'm not joking. She's fucking hot. Luscious tits and seductive eyes, and hair just like mine. Can you imagine what our children would look like?" Mick said grinning, as he pulled on his hair, staring out into some imaginary dark dreamscape, biting on his tongue.
"Yeah, a litter of fucking vampire bats with pink and blue booties on," Nikki snickered. "So now, I know what goes on in your mind, Micky Mars. A little fantasy threesome.... of you sandwiched in between me and Elvira. Hmm?"
"You wish. I don't want you!" Mick spat. "And you slept with Taime."
"Until you tell me who, I can only assume it's me," Nikki said, with a pop of his eyebrows. "And no, not Taime. I'd never be able to go to the Cathouse again."
"I don't want your dick anywhere near me," Mick growled.
"Then why won't you tell me who? Ooh, unless it's Tommy, right? You're afraid to tell me because it's him."
"Go to hell for even saying that."
"Vince?"
"I swear, Nikki, I'm going to lock you in the freezer of this ice cream joint, and leave you there overnight."
"Then I'll be nice and stiff for you," Nikki said, grinning.
"The only way that I want to see you stiff is if you're laid out in a casket, and it's about to become a reality!" Mick shrieked, as he threw a pile of napkins in Nikki's face.
"Whoa.... death by napkins." Nikki grinned, brushing them away. "Then your fantasy will have no chance of becoming a reality," he remarked, backing away a little.
"Fuck you, and drop it already! I don't like the stuff that you like."
"You started this whole damn conversation," Nikki sneered.
"Because you're being a difficult prick! And it's James Hetfield."
"Not James. I like my head attached to my body," Nikki replied. He rubbed his neck with his hand, then looked at his watch. "Do you have anything else planned for us today."
"Aw, come on. I bet James is really a big teddy bear," Mick grinned. "And nothing else is planned unless you wanna get dinner? Emi's gonna be home soon, but I can stay out."
"James is more like a grizzly bear who would shred me apart for a meal. No thanks...... And it's alright. I was thinking of bringing dinner home. There's an Italian restaurant on the way back that Tommy loves."
"You don't know where he is and when he'll be home. Jeff Keith?"
"No! Not my type. And I'll take my chances with Tommy's schedule. It's coming up on Sunday evening, and we're in the studio tomorrow morning. He'll be home at some point, if he's not there already. I think I might try to get a talk in with him tonight. So dinner from his favorite restaurant should help with his mood," Nikki said, stooping down to pick up the napkins.
"Alright, let's go. Tell me how to get to that joint," Mick said, as he gave a squeeze to Nikki's shoulder. "Scotti Hill?"
"No, and I'm pretty sure he's straight as fuck," Nikki replied.
"Like me... straight as fuck."
"Riiiight, Mick," Nikki responded, as they started walking to the car.
"Why can't you accept that, shit-for-brains?"
"Because it's just too easy to get you all wound up."
"You're not going to be laughing when you're all wound up with ten yards of rope, and I throw you off the pier! And it was Izzy Fuckin' Stradlin."
"Dang Mick, how many guesses did that take you? You owe me that same amount in the form of late night, drunken phone calls or sprinkled ice cream cones."
"Are you saying it was Izzy?" Mick asked, stopping in his tracks to face Nikki.
"What?" Nikki replied with a shrug, as his cheeks reddened.
"That guy likes to fuck with our band, doesn't he?"
"He thinks I'm hot," Nikki said, as he started back towards the car.
"My mother thinks you're hot. Are you going to fuck her too?!"
"Maybe if she begs."
Mick shoved Nikki into a lamp post, then kept walking.
Nikki gathered himself back up, after he nearly stumbled to the ground. He caught up with Mick, as he soothed his left shoulder, which made sharp contact with the lamp.
"What the hell! That hurt!" Nikki snapped.
"We're even. Let's go and get food for your pet dummy.
----------------------
About an hour later, Nikki was home with the food. Tommy loved the eggplant parm, and it was still warm. Nikki hoped he would come home soon. In the meantime, he pulled the little spotty onesie out of the decorative bag that it was put in. He felt his heart swelling and breaking at the same time. He labeled the bag with Tommy's name, put the onesie back in it, then placed it on the shelf in his closet. It wasn't the right time to give it to him. They needed to talk first. He felt encouraged that Tommy would talk with him, soon.
An hour passed, and Nikki decided to dish out his own food even though he wasn't very hungry anymore. He didn't eat much, and after another hour passed by, he packed the food away in the fridge. Nikki sat down on the couch with the remote and a bottle. While he appreciated everything Mick tried to do for him that day, it didn't help much in the long run.
The day out with a friend made him feel quite hopeful. A good mood created good vibes. Nikki convinced himself that they'd talk and work everything out over dinner. But the good vibe faded, as the minutes ticked by into hours, and the sky grew dark. Nikki opened the bottle and started downing it.
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"I know of a great little Italian place, not too far from here. They're really cool about making sure that I have privacy," Jon suggested.
"Sounds good. Italian is my favorite," Tommy replied, with a swipe of his tongue across his lips.
"Really? I would have assumed Greek was your thing."
"Nah, Nikki got me hooked," Tommy shrugged, a slight blush crawling up on his face, as he mentioned Nikki's name.
"That's something I like about him then," Jon smiled.
"He's half Sicilian," Tommy revealed.
"So am I, man. But I got the upper hand living on the east coast. Californians don't know shit about good Italian food, except for this place that I'm gonna take you to. The chef is a New Jersey transplant."
"I guess you got him beat, then. And you don't look Sicilian."
"It's not a competition, I swear. And don't let Nikki's jet black hair fool you. Many of us aren't that dark. What's his natural color?"
"He'll take it to the grave. I've seen pictures though, but I won't blow his secret."
"He's probably just like me; fair-haired. Come on, let's go," Jon said, with a click of his tongue.
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Tommy and Jon arrived at the restaurant. About halfway through, Jon had a few questions for the drummer.
"So, what's going through your head right now?"
"I don't know. I'm actually not trying to think about anything in particular. I'm still enjoying the afterglow," Tommy said, gulping down a drink with a stupid grin.
"Come on. What are you thinking about?"
"Me? What are you thinking? I mean, what I do, being out.... that's not your lifestyle," Tommy remarked, as he narrowed his eyes.
"I know. I guess I'm just living life a little. I'm finding a good distraction."
"You know, that's another thing you and Nikki have in common. Neither of you like that pretty, little blonde. She gave up on me..... Just sayin', maybe you should insert yourself between them more often. Nikki did, and she bowed out."
"Yeah, I know, but I'm not looking to get into a lifestyle like yours. I just don't think I can do it. And I don't think that I want to do it. We've come so far as a band, that fans expect us to be as we've always been. I like just having some fun... you know. I'd be just as happy to settle down with the right woman, if I find her."
"All fun until emotions get in the way, right?" Tommy said, flashing a contrived smile.
"Fuck. I know," Jon sighed. He took a long drink of water, and slammed the glass down with resolve. "I just decided now that I'm putting that condo up for sale. Time for something new. Maybe something with a nice coastal view."
"Ha! Watch her get a yacht. She'll go sailing by everyday. The boat's name will be Richie's Bitchie," Tommy laughed.
Jon laughed too.
"So, maybe it sounds like this was just a little feel good thing for both of us," Tommy said in a questioning tone.
"Yeah, I guess. I mean, if real life wasn't in the way, I'd see you again," Jon says, in a nonchalant tone and shrug.
"Was I that good?"
"Well, it's not your fucking whacked, drunken personality that draws me in. Nikki must love you a lot," Jon laughed.
"Fuck you. And he's just as crazy as me. He just does things with more finesse than I do," Tommy said, smiling, as he took the rest of his drink back.
"I suppose. You know, I was thinking.... maybe we can have one last fling? The day after tomorrow, I've got some business to take care of in Las Vegas. I'm leaving early Tuesday, then coming back here late Wednesday. I have a few more things to take care of in L.A. before I go back to my Jersey home. Anyway, do you wanna take the trip to Vegas with me?" Jon suggested.
"Fuck yeah! I love Vegas. I'm in," Tommy hooted, with a bang of his fist on the table.
"OK. We're taking a private jet, so there's no need to book a ticket." Jon was thankful for the private jet. Tommy was the loud and obnoxious sort, who drew attention in. Not exactly what he wanted in public venues, but he was a damn good fuck for private venues.
"Sweet. I guess I gotta work on a good disguise. I'm hitting the fucking casinos while you take care of your pussy business shit,"
"I'll eventually have some free time."
"Good. I'm counting on it," Tommy said, signaling the waitress for another drink.
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Nearly another hour passed by, since Nikki cracked the bottle open, when he finally heard Tommy's car roar into the driveway. The front door opened slowly a few minutes later.
Tommy stepped in cautiously, immediately spotting Nikki on the couch, waiting. Fuck. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead.
"Hey," Nikki said, trying to smile. "Um, I got dinner for you. It's your favorite. Well, it's cold now in the fridge, but I can heat it up for you."
"Ah, thanks, Nik, but I already ate. I think I may have found a new favorite Italian place..... Um, shit... maybe I should have called to let you know that I wouldn't be home for dinner. I wasn't expecting dinner from you though."
"That's OK. I mean, why would you think that I'd have dinner for you. We haven't eaten together for a while, right?" Nikki said, with a shrug. Inside, he felt pretty let down. "At least we'll have leftovers for a few days."
"Yeah. That's good," Tommy replied, aiming to go straight to his bedroom.
"Tom?"
"Yeah," the drummer responded anxiously.
"Can we talk?"
Tommy pulled his lips tight, then bit his bottom lip. "I don't know. Lemme get cleaned up, and then I'll see how I feel. I'm tired."
"OK. I'll be here, on the couch," Nikki replied, feeling defeated already.
Tommy emerged from the bedroom about 45 minutes later, and headed straight for the liquor cabinet; ignoring Nikki as he walked by.
"Tom?"
"Oh yeah. You wanted to talk or something, didn't you?" Tommy said, in a somewhat calloused tone.
"I'd really appreciate it. I just--"
"I'm not in the mood right now. I had a long day and I'm tired, plus we're working tomorrow. I just don't want to get into it this late."
"Tommy, please. I'm losing my mind over this."
"That's not really my problem. You brought it upon yourself, and I'm just not ready to talk."
"Come on! I can't change what I did. I apologize every single day, because I am sorry. But I can't take back what I did. So can't we just move past the reason for our problem, and talk about the options to move forward?"
"When I'm ready."
"When is that going to be?! How long do I need to be out on a limb?! This is bullshit! I'm bleeding inside..... just say something, otherwise rip the bandaid off already so I can bleed out all at once. I'm tired of dragging this out."
"I told you that I'm not ready. You did a fucking shitty thing, and broke my trust and my heart. So fuck you. Live with the consequences of what you did."
"I am, believe me! Every fucking day! I can't change what I did so can we just talk about what's next? Please.... Tommy, please. I'm begging."
Tommy felt Nikki's pain. It was tugging at his heart, but he just couldn't, not that night. Too much had happened throughout the day. He needed to sort it out in his head before he could dive into a long, contemplative conversation with Nikki. "Listen, we will. Soon, OK? I just can't right now."
Nikki just nodded with a shrug and an unreadable look upon his face.
"I'm sorry, Nikki. And um.... Thanks for getting dinner. I'll pack some for lunch tomorrow," Tommy said. He grabbed a bottle of bourbon before going back towards the master bedroom. He turned around before rounding the corner. "Soon. I promise. I just.... just give me a little more time."
"Am I even worth it to you?" Nikki asked, pursing his lips as he waited for an answer.
"Of course you are. It's just..... I can't right now," Tommy replied.
"Where were you today?" Nikki asked, flexing his jaw.
"Just out doing things. I don't need to tell you my every move."
"Sure, Tom," Nikki replied in a passive-aggressive tone and a contrived smile. He took his open bottle by the neck, brushed past Tommy, and headed to his bedroom.
Tommy sensed Nikki suspected something, as he watched him shut the door. He heard the twisting of the lock. A woozy feeling swept through his core. That click of the lock seemed to him like an omen of things to come.
Tommy retreated to his own bedroom. He had a lot up unpacked from his head, or perhaps he could sort it out another time, and instead push it all away with a nice full bottle of booze.
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