Warning(s):
Explicit Language
Violence
Angst
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"Viv?" I barely hear her voice as Tansy gently nudges at my shoulder, worriedly, while I'm staring at the TV after calming down from hyperventilating, my mind starting to collect itself as my sorrow begins turning into pure rage.
"Vivian." Her voice becomes crystal clear and I'm shoving her away from me, into the floor, as I scream, "don't fucking touch me!"
"Vivian, I'm sorry!" She pleads. "We couldn't tell you!"
"We?!" I grit out. "Who the hell has known about this?!"
Her silence is speaking volumes and I roll my jaw, stomping to the door with her crying motivating my anger further.
I'm banging on Tommy's door, hearing him and Nikki chuckling, and the second the door opens, I'm grabbing the full Jack bottle out of Tommy's hand and throwing it at Nikki.
"How could you let this happen?!" I shriek at him, tears of anger streaming down my face as I start picking up everything in sight and throw it at Nikki. "What have you done, Nikki?!"
"What the fuck, Vivian?!" Nikki's yelling back at me as Tommy tries to get me under control, but all I have to say is, "Me, God, and everybody just saw your fiancée brag about getting to marry you," and Tommy's stumbling back in shock, the look on his face is the same as Nikki's and they know they're all fucked.
"Vivian--"
I shut Nikki up by throwing a bottle of wine at him, missing him, but it smacks into the screen of the TV, causing a loud banging noise as glass goes everywhere, before I'm grabbing a stray heel off the floor that one of the groupies left here with Tommy, hurling it at him and it hits him in the face, hard.
"How could you do this to me?!" I cry out as he starts trying to walk to me, trying to keep his anger low, but I get away from him, throwing a hotel lamp at him, only for it to shatter on the wall behind him. "What did I do to make you hate me so fucking much, Nikki?! To make you pursue another girl--one of my friends--so fucking hard that you propose to her?! Am I just that fucking forgettable?!" I'm throwing dirty dishes Tommy's used tonight, all of them breaking when they miss Nikki by merely centimeters, hitting the wall.
"Vivian, fuck it off!" He barks and I grab Tommy's switchblade off the nightstand, throwing it next, and it barely misses Nikki's face.
"I hate you!" I say back. "I fucking hate you!"
He's pouncing before I can grab anything else, tackling me to the bed, holding at my arms.
"I have done nothing but dedicate the last six years of my life to you, asking you 'how high' every time you have told me to fucking jump, trying to help you the best I could, and trying to keep my shit together for you and this is how you repay me?!" I'm overcome with sadness once more, a wave of sobs drowning me, and I try to get him off of me, hitting at his chest.
"Viv--"
"--How long has this been happening?! How long have you been fucking her?!"
"Vivian, stop before you get us kicked out." He orders sternly, trying not to raise his voice anymore.
"I am humiliated!" I wail out, pain threading through every layer of my voice.
"What the fuck is going on?!" Fred and Doc come in with Tommy, I didn't even notice Tommy had left.
I take a few breaths, pushing Nikki off of me and he stumbles back after I shriek, "Get away from me!" and sit up on the bed.
"Vivian--" Doc starts.
"Shut up! I don't wanna fucking hear another word because it's all fucking bullshit!" I seethe at him.
"Vivian, we can talk about this calmly, because screaming--"
"--No! I've had everyone's foot on my throat for the past four years, telling me how to act, how to look, how to make sure he's happy, and it just took less than 45 seconds for her to blow every fucking thing to fucking hell and let me know I did all of it for absolutely nothing!" I say through thick tears, bubbling anger starting to rise within me again.
I'm suddenly lunging and clawing at Nikki's face and neck before I can stop myself.
"Vivian!" Nikki hollers, his face bleeding as he tries to swing at me but Doc blocks him, yelling, "both of you calm the fuck down!"
I'm starting to breathe quickly, my whole body feeling heavy as Fred and Doc keep us separated.
"How the hell did this happen?" I ask him, more so demand.
"Vivian," Doc says, catching his breath. "We'll talk about it later."
"I just found out..." I can't bring myself to say "my husband's been cheating on me" without feeling like I'm going to vomit. "...and you just wanna talk about it later?" I ask him, appalled and he looks at Nikki.
"I'm not..." Nikki trails off, shaking his head, looking as if he's about to cry before heading to the door and slamming it shut.
"Oh, God, please." I beg, holding at my aching chest, my eyes squeezing closed as tears topple down my cheeks.
"Come with me." I hear Doc lowly say to Tommy.
"Viv," Tommy slowly starts and I shake my head at him.
"You were suppose to protect me." I hold back a sob. "You've always protected me and when I needed you to the most...you were suppose to protect me and you didn't." I finally muster out and tears break over his lashes.
Before he can say anything, Doc's leading him out of the room, leaving me with Fred.
"Vivian," Fred says, genuinely concerned.
"I-I-oh, God." I can't make myself speak, tears and snot running down my face but I don't care, and he nods as I shake my head a little.
He just grabs one of my hands, squeezing it, comfortingly.
We got kicked out of that hotel and because of my tantrum, we had to pay them back for the broken lamp and TV, but I didn't care.
I had done everything. Everything I could, everything I was told to do, and it still wasn't enough. I still wasn't enough. My best still wasn't enough.
I lay on the bathroom floor of our new hotel with the door locked, not crying as extensively as I was, but it's a steady stream of tears puddling on the floor, as everything I overlooked runs through my mind.
Those nights I'd come home to see Vanity passed out in my house, the way everyone would get a little uncomfortable when she would hint at something and I was the only fucking one that didn't think anything about it...the fucking "V" tattoo on his arm that he played off as a five, when he just as easily at least could've have said it was for "Vivian" or something. Anything.
"You are the world's biggest fucking idiot." I whisper to myself. "How could you be so stupid?"
I'm so tired, I've been crying for the past four hours, but anytime I try to sleep I can't. It's not because I'm on the floor and I'm uncomfortable, but because my mind won't quit replaying every scenario there is imaginable of Nikki and Vanity touching each other.
A one night stand would have been something I'd still be shattered over...but an entire relationship?
I don't even want to know how long it's been happening.
I just want to sleep.
"Vivian." I hear Vince say from the other side of the door and I sniffle, not wanting to talk to anyone. "I'm sorry, alright? But what the fuck did you expect? We're rockstars. It's common sense how we live. You should have known Nikki wasn't an exception to that, when you married him."
"Get out!" I scream at him, getting all the strength in me to open the door and shove at his shoulders to the room door.
"Vi--"
"--Leave me alone!" I demand, snatching the room key from him before opening the door and pushing him out, slamming it shut, resting my aching forehead against the cool wood.
I try to take deep breaths to calm down, but I'm unable to.
I slide down the door, my mind continuing to race.
I couldn't sleep at all.
My eyes, nearly swollen shut from crying for two days, are glued to the screen of the TV set before me, Doc, Fred, Nikki, Tommy, Vince, Mick, Tansy, Sparkie, Donna, Emi, and everyone else at risk of being asked about this shit show by the press, as a recording of Vanity's interview is replayed to us.
"Yeah, I'll be Vanity 6 once again. Isn't that nice?"
"I heard that--now, Nikki, uh, he's not ma--"
"--Mötley Crüe." She states what he's known for and cuts Arsenio short.
"Yeah, I read about Nikki in, uh, Fresh Magazine."
"Oh, no, you've read about him." Vanity says, causing the audience to laugh uncomfortably along with Arsenio.
"Is he here?" He asks.
"Texas. He's in Texas." She explains.
"He's in Texas with Mötley Crüe."
"Right." She nods.
"And they're probably partying with some chicks up in the room." He jokes, trying to carry on as smoothly as possible with this whirlwind she just dropped.
"Oh, I'll kill him." She laughs out. "I'll kill him."
Again, everyone laughs.
"When are you getting married?"
"Oh, probably December, maybe Christmas, maybe New Years, we haven't decided." She replies.
"Are you--you seem like you're in love, you're very bubbly, you're glowing." Arsenio points out and she nervously rubs her forehead.
"Oh, I--I know, I feel stupid, I know. I look stupi--"
"--No, no, that's great." He argues politely. "And this ring is something else." He states as he looks at it. "You don't get no crackerjacks with this, I mean that's a nice ring." He chuckles, along with her and the crowd.
Doc stops it there, anger of the highest degree on his face as he glares at Nikki, who's got his sunglasses on and refuses to even look my way.
"I told you--" Doc stops talking for a moment, nearly shaking, having to take deep breaths. "--when you got together with that coked out bitch to not be--" he loses it, throwing his bottle of water at the wall, "--fucking messy!" He yells. "We have done everything we could possibly do to help you and what do you do in return? Bend all of us over and just," Doc thrusts his hips forward a few times as if he's screwing a girl, "fuck all of us!"
Nikki let's out a heavy breath.
"Her sister called last night and that ring she's flashing around, Sixx, is Viv's." Doc states and I feel my bottom lip shake as more tears come to my eyes. "You can't tell me you didn't play a part in this shit. You can't. Vanity's crazy, but she didn't just wake up one day and decide to say she's engaged to you. You helped prompt this. You can't tell me you didn't." He points at Nikki and Nikki sits quietly. "Jesus fuck." Doc sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay. Okay. This is what we do. I've been on the phone for the past two days with the office, the label, Vanity's people...and everyone agrees that playing this off as a misunderstanding on Vanity's part is the best option." He tells us. "What she said about being engaged to Nikki is-is technically right thanks to his fucking smack and crack binge that lead to that bright fucking idea--but instead of accusing her of lying, we'll say it was a 'misunderstanding'." Doc replies and I squeeze my eyes shut. "It could get ugly for us if you two are at each other's throats over this, publicly, so you two are just gonna have to play nice for the cameras and hash this out behind closed doors." He adds. "Because if we say it was a misunderstanding but you two are having issues, they'll know we're bullshitting."
"What if I want a divorce?" Nikki--Sikki--boldly asks and Doc clenches his jaw while I brush away tears as quickly as possible, playing it off.
"You can split when this tour is over, that way you can blame it on something other than asking another woman to marry you while you've been married to the girl you've been with since 1981 for four fucking years."
I'm too exhausted to protest the idea of staying with him until the tour ends.
I just want to go home.
"So if anybody asks any of you about it 'no comment' the fuck out of them. And if you absolutely have to say something other than 'no comment', you laugh a little bit to make it seem like it's nothing, and tell them--verbatim--'It was a complete misunderstanding.' And if I find out anybody doesn't answer with one of those, word for fucking word, you're done." He threatens in a serious tone.
I've never seen Doc this mad.
"Do I make myself clear?" He asks us and everybody nods...except me. "Viv?"
"I want to go home." I tell him.
"If you go home right now, it'll look like something's up--"
"--Something is up." I let out hoarsely and everyone lets out a sad breath. "I just want to go home for a couple days." I say, my voice cracking.
"Not like it's gonna do you any good to run home. They knew about it, too." Sikki mocks me, referring to Duff and the guys.
"Dude." Tommy says to him as if wanting him to shut up.
I just get up and go to walk out of the room, stopping in front of Nikki, getting in his face.
"Burn in hell." I say and he turns his head to look at me, smirking.
"That's the dream." He replies.
I get out as fast as I can, Fred following after me, and the second I get out, I'm throwing up, hoping nobody in there heard, especially Nikki. I feel like his inner evil fucking psychopath junkie will delight in my discomfort.
He was angry because I refused to see him after he had tried to get Fred to convince me to speak to him.
I didn't know what to say to him, and I didn't want to hear anything from him, yet.
I just needed to get away from him for a few days and think about what I wanted to do.
Did I want a divorce? Did I want to pack my shit from the house and never go back to him on tour and send him the divorce documents in the mail? Did I want to try to fix things? Did I think things could even be fixed at that point? I didn't know what to do, other than go home.
I finish packing all of stuff into my suitcase as Fred comes in, clearing his throat.
"Look, I, uh...I talked to Doc. He decided it's a good idea for you to go back home for a couple days and come back with a clear head--well, as clear as it's gonna get." He explains. "But, the Rolling Stone dude is still coming on this week, so Doc wants you gone no longer than three days." He adds.
I completely forgot about Rolling Stone wanting to do a big issue on Mötley Crüe's tour in the midst of everything that's happened recently.
"Which of course now, they're definitely chomping at the bit to get to nitty-gritty on everything and if you're not here, that's gonna send off some red flags, according to Doc." He explains and I let out a groan.
"But Doc's currently getting you a flight for this early this evening, and I'll drive you there and we'll get someone to pick you up."
I don't reply, letting out a breath and he gives me a small smile.
"It'll be alright, Viv." He assures me.
"I've been telling myself that since 1981. Nothing's fucking alright."
Going out in public was a mistake from hell.
Every reporter outside of the airport here is shouting "Vivian" followed by invasive questions about Vanity and Nikki, and I'm happy I have my sunglasses on so they can't see me about to burst into tears.
"Vivian, are you going home to file for divorce?!"
"Is Nikki and Vanity engaged?!"
"Are you and Nikki divorced without public knowledge?!"
"Why aren't you wearing your wedding ring?!"
"We were under the impression Vanity was your friend?!"
"Is this a polygamous relationship?!"
"Do you have any comments on the recent bombshell about Vanity and Nikki?!"
"Bless their hearts." I reply with a sarcastic smile, damning Doc's little gag order.
This causes them to start popping off my questions like a swarm of piranhas.
I'd be hearing about that comment I made, from Doc, the next day.
I'm praying there isn't a swarm of press outside as I make my way to the front exit of L.A.X., but my prayer is answered, kind of, when I only see Axl waiting for me with Duff's car.
We don't say anything to each other until we get to the first stop light on the road.
"It's fucking shitty we didn't tell you--"
"--Axl, I don't wanna hear it."
"No, let me finish." He demands. "Look at me."
I sigh and glare at him.
"We wanted to tell you, Viv."
"Then why the hell didn't you?"
"Look me in the eyes and tell me, honestly, matter-of-fact, without a doubt, if one of us came to you and told you Nikki and Vanity were seeing each other, you wouldn't have lost your fuckin' mind?"
I don't say anything.
"We've been trying for months to get him to leave her alone, or come clean to you, and he'd just say, 'I'm working on it'. We had no idea they were that fucking deep into it."
I roll my eyes, my eyes blinking back tears.
"I'm being serious--Viv, hey." He says and I look at him. "If we would have known that, that's how you would have found out, we would've told you sooner. I swear to fucking God, Viv, we woulda told you sooner if we knew that's how you would've found out." He promises.
This is possibly the most sincere I've ever seen Axl.
Which lets me know he's being honest.
No matter how angry I am at them, they didn't tell me to save my feelings.
Their intentions were pure, but horribly executed.
When we get to the Franklin, we walk in to see the guys in the living room of Axl's place, watching cartoons.
I don't say anything to Izzy, Duff, Steven or Slash, and none of them try to speak to me once Axl gives them the look that says I'm not in the mood to speak about anything.
"I'm gonna shower." I say, taking myself to the bathroom with my stuff, locking the door behind me.
I shower, then proceed to stay in there, avoiding everybody and everything, until I hear a soft little knock, and Stevie's voice.
"H-hey, Viv? We got some food...if you're hungry, I mean." He says on the other side of the door and I exhale.
"I'm not hungry, Steven." I say, sniffling, wiping tears away that have been flowing since I turned the shower off.
"Are you gonna stay in there all night?" He asks next.
"It's my business if I do." I snap back and he lets out a breath.
He doesn't say anything else, I just hear him walk away.
Steven, as nice as he always has been, had no problem setting someone straight if needed. He was never aggressive with me, because I usually stayed on his good side, but if someone rubbed him the wrong way, he'd get in their face and ask them what the fuck their problem was. I expected him to break into that bathroom and ask me what my problem was, but he knew what my problem was, I guess...
...Izzy on the other hand...
"Izzy, what the hell?!" I yell as the door swings open after he picks the lock.
"We're fucking pieces of shit and the assholes they come out of, I get that. Axl gets that. Stevie gets that. Duff gets that. Slash gets that. We understand collectively that we are gross for not telling you. But we didn't tell you in hopes your dumb-fuck husband would wise up, like we have all been trying to get him to do, and break things off with the bitch. But he didn't. But we were hoping he would so we wouldn't have to witness your firey wrath sent straight from the gates of fucking hell. But we are anyway, apparently. We tried dropping hints. Countless hints. Obvious hints but you were too busy getting fucked by cupid and having a too perfect view of love to notice. But we tried. Extensively. If we knew she was going to embarrass you like that, we wouldn't have kept it from you, at all. But it's too fucking late now, and we can't do anything about it except just be here for you, I guess, but you coming home and being a bitch to us for not telling you something that would've been so fucking obvious to you if you would have paid a little more attention, is fucked. Next time we'll just tell you he's fucking one of your best friends and rip the fucking bandaid off." He says to me, stunning me. "Now quit hogging the bathroom because some of us need to use it."
I can usually take Izzy's tough love, but this time, I can't.
"I gave her a key to my house." I say randomly, more tears coming to my eyes.
"No, no, you're suppose to tell me to go fuck myself." He says.
"And the codes to our gate and...24/7 access to my husband, and I was too fucking stupid to realize I was just letting her have him anytime she wanted him." I choke out.
The door cracks open a little to reveal Duff behind Izzy, and he cautiously steps to me, hugging me tightly to him.
One thing I was beginning to realize: the first thing I said to Nikki was, "how could you let this happen?"
I was beginning to see that it wasn't meant as a "how could you let yourself do this to me?" but as a "how could you let her embarrass me like this?"
I knew something was up, subconsciously, I had this feeling that I knew something but I didn't know what exactly I knew until I was publicly humiliated over it.
I spend the rest of the night not speaking to anyone, not necessarily because I'm still angry, but because I'm just not in a talking mood.
By the time everyone else is going out, Duff and I are heading back to his place so I can try to sleep.
"You can have whatever side of the bed you want." He lets out, a little awkwardly being that we haven't spoken all night.
I nod, going to the side of the bed I slept on the last time I stayed here.
He looks as if he wants to say something else to me, but chooses not to as I get into bed with him, turning my back to him, hoping to get some form of rest, but even a couple hours later, it never comes.
I lay next to Duff, his soft snoring sounding through the small room, his bare back to me, and in the lights from the street that are filing through the window, I can see the smattering of acne scars along his back, and I can't stop my hand from reaching out, grazing over them.
He moves a little in his sleep and I let out a breath, tired of being awake with my own thoughts that are just overflowing with whispers of Nikki.
I wish I was in bed next to him.
I wish he never would have done what he did in the first place.
I wish I wouldn't have been so naive.
I wish I would have listened to my gut before we got married.
Finally getting tired of it, I pull myself up and stumble to the kitchen, looking around until I find a bottle of NyQuil syrup.
I take the correct dose of it to maybe help me sleep before going back to bed.
"Will you quit it?" I grin, chuckling as his lips brush against the space between my shoulder blades as he hovers over me while I'm laying on my stomach at the foot of the bed. "I'm trying to finish this." I add, referring to the blank paper before me and the pen in my hand.
"You weren't worried about writing it for the past two hours." He teases, peppering my bare back in kisses and I giggle, trying to worm him off of me."You're almost done with school, what's one missing paper gonna hurt?" He questions.
"It'll hurt when it counts as a chunk of my final grade and I haven't even gotten a thesis statement figured out. And if I when I bring home a crappy final grade, I don't think my mom will appreciate, 'I couldn't do my thesis paper because I was too busy fucking your worst nightmare that I snuck in through my window'."
He lets out a scoff, kissing my skin one last time before I'm turning over to face him, still holding the pen and paper in my hand laying above my head, my other hand tracing over his cheek.
"I can write it." He says after a moment of thinking and I furrow my brows.
"Write what?"
"Your paper."
"You want to write a thesis for paper for twelfth-grade English?" I have to stop myself from laughing.
"Sure." He shrugs.
"Didn't you drop out of school?" I question and he snatches the pen and paper out of my hand and sits up, grabbing the book I was using as a hard surface to write on.
"If I can write a song, I can write a thesis paper." He states and I raise my brows.
"Whatever you say."
My eyes slowly blink open, and my whole body starts hurting again, gut wrenching pain that's suffocating my heart in a stronghold as my swollen eyes start to weep again.
"Oh, God, please. Please, God." I beg, trying to be quiet enough not to wake Duff up. I'm not sure what exactly I'm praying for, I just know my spirit is crying out for mercy and relief of any kind.
He spent a couple days writing that paper, collecting sources and proof to back his thesis statement: 'The way today's christian and conservative groups view and sacrifice secular music genres, specifically rock n' roll, and the artists within those genres, is completely counterproductive of the teachings of who they worship because their approach is judgemental and belligerent.' I just copied it word for word in my handwriting and kept his original work of it which is framed and hanging in our house today.
Those were the main memories that would replay in my dreams: us when we first started fooling around and slowly seeing each other exclusively.
Small little things that just added more reasons to why I was so in love with in to begin with.
Things we completely lost sight of by 1987.
Those were the ones that would hurt like hell to wake up from.
I'm unable to fall asleep again, so I take another dose of NyQuil, and wait for it to go in effect.
I fell asleep, but woke up every couple hours, and immediately started crying each time, not forgetting I was heartbroken in the slightest because I'd dream of Nikki.
I'd just lay there saying, "God, please," not knowing what I was praying for him to do.
And, in a slightly irresponsible and reckless attempt to go back to sleep to stop the pain, I'd take another dose of NyQuil every time, not thinking anything of it because it was an 'over the counter' drug. After taking four maximum doses of the stuff in a 6 hour period, my body started freaking out.
My heart is pounding in my chest, my breathing trying to compensate for what feels like an inability to get enough air as something in me is telling me to wake Duff up.
"Duff, Duff." I gasp out, shaking at his shoulder and he wakes up, confused, tired eyes looking at me.
Apparently it just takes one look at me to wake him up fully, because he's sitting up as fast as he can.
"Something's not right." I say breathlessly.
"Viv?" He asks, at least I think that's what he says.
His hand suddenly grasps at my wrist, his fingers on my pulse point, and his eyes widen.
"We gotta get you to a hospital." He replies as calmly as he can, but I can tell he's frantic in his mind.