Warning(s):
Explicit language
Explicit sexual situations
Substance abuse
Violence
Mentions of assault/sexual assault
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I hum along to the Christmas music softly playing over the speakers of the grocery store as I walk down the aisles, pushing my buggy, looking at the different types of cereal.
Nikki doesn't like sweet cereals aside from Captain Crunch, so I just grab a box of it before heading to grab toilet paper and paper towels, along with some eggs, and head to the checkout line, my attention stalling on a tabloid on display.
"Nikki Sixx & Vanity: Their 'Friendship' Timeline," it reads, a picture of Vanity and Nikki plastered on the front...I exhale sharply.
I can't believe it's been four months since Vanity aired out their dirty laundry on TV.
That means Duff and I have been together for three and a half months...
I'm quickly backing up and walking to the sexual health section, examining the many brands of pregnancy tests.
I grab the cheapest and go back to the line.
"I told them not to put those out," my cashier states to me when it's my turn, as she sees me give another glance to the magazine with my husband and his mistress on the front.
When she gets to the pregnancy test, she clears her throat.
"Celebratory or...?" She asks, swiping the test.
I pretend I don't hear her.
I shut my trunk, my arms wrapped around grocery bags as I step to the front door, of the house, the sun setting through the neighborhood, and I sigh heavily as I grab my key.
I haven't been home in a couple days, avoiding Nikki as much as I can, but I know we need groceries in the house and I know he hasn't left to get any, and even though I'm done with him, I don't want him to starve or something.
Opening the front door, the house is a wreck just from a glance, and I quietly shut the door in case he's asleep, and head to the kitchen.
I quickly stop in my tracks when I see through the dim light, coming from the single lamp in the foyer, figures moving in the living room, a light littering of giggles flittering through the air…
I turn the lights on, nearly dropping the groceries to see eight girls in lingerie, girls at least in their late teens, piled on Nikki—and Steven—lips swollen from making out with each other and euphoric glows casting over all of them.
I'm at a loss for words.
Nikki and Steven just look at me, Steven looking like a guilty kid.
"Is that your wife?" One of the girls straddling Nikki asks, looking at me, wide eyed.
"Ex-wife." I correct her.
This is where the story tends to get misconstrued. If you ask Nikki or Steven what happened, they'll tell you it went down like this…
"Vivian put the fuckin' gun down!" Nikki yells at me as I hold his shotgun, the girls screaming and scattering like roaches while he and Steven run to the backyard as I pump a bullet into the chamber and fire off, missing them by a couple inches as our wall by the back door is blown to hell, chasing after them and emptying the gun in our backyard whilst trying to shoot them.
What actually happened…
"Get out of my house." I tell the girls harshly and they look at me, pissy.
"If I want them here, they can be here." Nikki argues.
"They're babies, Nikki!" I shout, and the girls all defensively simultaneously let out their ages, ranging between 18 to 20, but I honestly don't see how some of them are over 17. "Then let me see your ID." I tell them.
"We came to hook up, we didn't come to get interrogated." One of them states.
"Okay, well, you've had your fifteen minutes with Nikki Sixx so you can get out of my house." I repeat.
"Fuck off!" She exclaims to me and I raise my brows.
Fuck it.
I go to our bedroom and grab what I need, and I don't give anybody a warning before firing off shotgun shrapnel into our glass ceiling, shards of mirror raining down as I hear the girls holler and cry out in fear, scampering to the door in their heels, and once the gun is unloaded, I look in the living room and see fluffy black and blonde hair peek up from behind the couch, their eyes bugging, pupils taking up most of their eye.
When the cops showed up, I said I accidentally fired into the ceiling while trying to clean the gun. They were fans of Nikki so they didn't give us a fine for public disturbance, and they didn't ask why eight girls were in our lawn in lingerie, either.
"I cannot believe you." I grit through my teeth when Steven blocks my entrance into their rehearsal studio, his heavy panting clouding the words trying to come from his mouth. "Did you run here?!" I exclaim and he nods, still trying to catch his breath, still trying to get his apology out that I can't even hear because he's talking but not saying a word due to his breathing. "Moron." I hiss, shoving him out of my way to get inside.
"Viv, wait!" He musters out, following me.
"Fuck you!" I shout.
"Vivian, please, let me—" he gasps for breath some more.
"—I hope you're having an asthma attack or something, I really do, dumbass, I really do." I march away from him and he grabs my wrist, a pathetic look on his face.
"Look—"
"—No, you 'look,' I refuse to be the little bitch that just lays on her back and let's everybody fuck her to hell with their bullshit. It's gross and it's disgusting and you should be ashamed of yourself for even being apart of it, Steven, because I thought you wouldn't do that shit to me. Just 'haha it's so hot to do stupid shit that'll hurt Vivian,'" I mock his voice, and he tries to talk again, "No, just shut up and go suck on Nikki's balls some more because I don't think those teenage girls did it enough!" I turn on my heel go to find the guys.
"You're not mad about their age, you're mad Nikki didn't give a fuck." He gets out, taking deep breaths and I stop and turn to look at him, rolling my jaw. "You're jealous, and you know you are, and it's okay and normal to be, Viv, I know you still—"
"—Know I still what, Steven? Hmm? Love him?" I furrow my brows, stepping to him, my heels clicking on the floor when I get face to face to him, our nose nearly touching, my voice shaking with anger as I say, "He could die tomorrow and I wouldn't give a single fuck because he's been dead to me for months. And as of right now, you are to. So don't come at with me trying to strike up some empathy for a person I feel absolutely apathetic about." I sneer quietly, turning. "And stay away from teenagers. I don't care if they're eighteen or nineteen, they're still fucking kids."
I grind my teeth together as I leave him standing in the hallway before I try to go into the girls bathroom, only for it to be locked.
"Damn it." I mumble, holding back tears, glancing at the door of the boys bathroom.
Without shit given, I open the door and walk in, seeing Izzy standing over the toilet, cigarette in his mouth, peeing.
He glances over his shoulder and looks at me.
"Viv." He says the best he can, smoke puffing past his lips.
"Izzy." I reply, sitting my purse on the sink, digging through it. "Sorry, the girls bathroom was taken." I mumble.
"No problem." He replies. "Not like you haven't seen it before." He adds and I roll my eyes.
"Unfortunately." I sigh out, grabbing the box with the pregnancy test in it. "Hurry up, please."
He looks at me to say something smart back, but looks at the box and his face falls.
"Jesus fuck, Viv, what do you have that for?" He asks me.
"Okay, I know you went to high school in Indiana and their version of Sex Education was just ways to stick your dick in a pickup truck's tail pipe without getting carbon monoxide poisoning, but when a man and woman have sex, they have a risk of procreation." I tell him.
"With Duff? " He asks me with a confused face.
"No, I got Bret Michaels and Willie Nelson to cum in a cup and I mixed it together and went from there." I sarcastically hiss.
"Fuck you, smart ass, I was asking a legitimate question." He zips his pants back up and steps aside for me.
"Yes, with Duff. I haven't had sex with Nikki in months." I tell him.
"Sorry, I didn't know if you were doing them both or what." He shrugs and I glare at him.
"No. I'm not." I inform him, pulling my dress up and my panties down.
"Okay, that's my cue." He says, turning away from me, in reference to my naked bottom half.
"Not like you haven't seen it before." I repeat what he said earlier and he chuckles, going to open the door. "You're leaving?" I ask him, quickly, and he looks at me.
"Yeah?"
"I need support." I tell him, honestly sounding scared and he leans his head back and rubs his eyes.
"Vivian, babe, I can just go get Duff—"
"—No, no, he doesn't need to know I even think I'm pregnant." I state, panicked. "Look, it'll take a few minutes but I can't wait for the result by myself, it'll drive me up the wall." I plead with him.
"Well, what if you are pregnant, are you gonna tell him, then?"
"I-I don't know." I admit. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there just, please, stay in here with me."
He lets out a heavy breath before nodding, rubbing his forehead.
"Alright, alright. Just piss on the stick because I'm missing rehearsal for this."
It was an agonizing wait, but once Izzy glanced at his watch and said, "alright, it's been long enough," I felt like it had only been a few seconds.
"Maybe we should a wait a little bit more." I suggest.
"Viv, it's been ten minutes. You already put it off once before, come on, now. Cowgirl up." He tells me.
"Okay." I breathe out, anxious, rubbing my lips together and shakily reaching for the test before quickly snatching away. "I can't do it." I say to him, shaking my head. "You look at it and tell me."
"Vivian—"
"—Please?" I beg, giving him my best puppy dog eyes and he lets out a breath and reaches for the test, looking at it, nodding a little.
"Well, Stripey, we're at the bridge, how're you gonna cross it?" He asks me, handing me the test, and I see a perfectly shaped "+" on it.
I started to panic, and think irrationally, as I do when I'm backed into a corner. So in my panicked state, the best thing I saw for me to do, was...
"You are fucking insane." He tells me sharply, leaning against the sink. "Like evil insane."
"Izzy, I don't know what else to do aside from just get rid of it or hope and pray I miscarry, and that's kinda fucked." I explain, holding back tears.
"You want to fuck Nikki and just play it off as his—that's more fucked up than praying the damn thing away!" He whipser yells. "And what about Duff? What the hell happens to him when you pull that shit?"
"I don't know, Izzy, alright? But he doesn't need a kid to worry about when he's just starting to get a taste of what he's wanted for years, now, and I don't want to—"
"—He's going to be fucked up with the idea of you still screwing Nikki when he's under the impression that you two are gonna be this magical little fairytale of unicorns and sparkles and love and shit, Vivian!"
"I know, but I don't know what else to do!" I reply in the same tone.
"Oh, my God." Izzy exhales smoke from his fresh cigarette. "You can't tell me this shit. You shouldn't have even let me know about this because now I'm a fucking accomplice to your batshit crazy scheme." He scolds me.
"Izzy—"
"—You are the fucking devil, Vivian. Axl was right. You are the actual devil."
"Well, you tell me what to do, Izzy, because that's the only thing I can come up with!"
"Why does it matter if the child is Nikki's or not, you two are getting divorced anyway, so why does it matter if it's somebody else's?" He questions, and I stay quiet. "You are filing for divorce, right?"
More silence.
"Oh. My. God."
"Izz—"
"—Will you quit incriminating me with you when you do stupid shit?!" He lets out, slightly panicking. "Now im gonna be fucked sideways if they find out I knew and never said anythi--why the fuck were you even screwing Duff if you weren't a thousand percent sure you were gonna leave Nikki?!"
"Because I thought I was but no—"
"—Izz, you alright?!"
"Duff." Izzy mouths to me. "Shhhit."
"Answer him." I mouth back.
"Yeah, man, I'm good...just really, um, fucked on that pizza from earlier!" He lies as I shove the pregnancy test box back in my purse along with the test, and zip it up.
"Okay, dude, just making sure!" Duff replies, the sound of him walking away letting us know the coast is clear.
Just to make sure Izzy sticks his head out of the door, and glances at me.
"Go," he motions and I do. "Last door on the left of that hall." He adds and I go in that direction, opening the door and seeing Axl, Duff, Slash and even Steven has joined them.
"Hey," Duff's face lights up when he sees me, and be puts his bass down as I walk to him.
He wraps an arm around my waist and leans in, pressing a chaste kiss to my lips.
"Hi," I smile when he pulls away, looking into his eyes, while I can see Izzy staring at me from the corner of my eye, taking a drink from his cup with this look on his face like I've just killed his best friend.
I honestly might if I'm not careful.
Once their rehearsal is over, it's around 5:00pm, and my stomach is killing me.
"Can we get food?" I ask him, my hand in his as we step to the parkinglot.
"No, I'm just gonna let you starve." He sarcastically lets out and I cut my eyes up at him. "Where do you wanna eat?" He asks next, letting my hand go so he can grab his pack of Marlboros and settle one between his lips, lighting it, before grabbing my hand again.
"I don't know." I shrug.
"I thought you said you're hungry." He says next.
"I am—that doesn't mean I know what I want to eat." I add and he just looks at me.
"Do you want a burger?" He suggests and I wrinkle my nose. "Okay...chicken?" Again, I don't look pleased. "Dennys?"
"That's fine with me." I nod.
"Thank God." He sighs. "My car or yours?" He asks next.
"Doesn't matter." I tell him.
"Alright, we'll take mine." He says, stepping to the passenger side, opening the door for me without a second thought.
"Aww," Slash says as he comes out of the building, teasing Duff from behind his shades and his own cigarette.
Duff just smiles and flips him off, walking to the driver's side.
"I'll see you later tonight, man!" Slash calls.
"Alright!" Duff says back, shutting the door, fumbling for his keys to put them into the ignition.
"You guys are going out tonight?" I ask him as he cranks the car.
"Yeah, you can come." He offers and I shake my head a little.
"Um, I was actually gonna go visit with Sharise and Skylar for a few hours, tonight." I tell him.
"Okay." He replies, his smile not fading once.
I wonder if it would suddenly slip from his face like a bad acid trip if I told him I'm pregnant.
Would he pass out? Have an anxiety attack? Completely melt into the carseat with panic? Be pissed that we weren't careful enough...want me to get an abortion...
I let go of the thought of telling him as he lets go of the gearshift once it's in reverse and backs out if the parking spot.
We get into the Dennys, and I can't even enjoy my meal because as soon as Sparkie stumbles in, with a random girl under his arm, I'm losing my appetite.
Who the fuck is she? Where's Tansy? I know she came back to L.A.
Duff, who was chattering on about the tour they're set to head on after Christmas, slowly picks up that I've zoned out, his head turning over his shoulder to see Sparkie at the counter with the woman, a cloud of smoke surrounding them.
I can see the track marks in her calves, her skeleton thin figure cloaked in a short dress that's probably a size double zero but is still too big.
Does he drug her and pimp her out, too?
The thought that he probably does makes me feel a little better in a fucked way—because if it was just Tansy that he tortured and brainwashed and wore down the way he does, it'd be a hell of a lot more fucked up than him just treating every girl he can like that.
"Viv?" Duff asks me calmly and I look at him, getting ready to get out of the booth. "Viv, don—"
"Fuck this." I hiss, walking over to the plethora of smoke and bitter smell of unwashed skin with reminents of crack chemicals seeping through pores.
"Where's Tansy?" I ask him, sharply.
He slowly turns and looks at me, the woman on his arm, looking at me as well.
Looking at me for a moment, probably off a delayed reaction from his fried brain.
"In the car." He replies smartly. "Not that it's any of your fucking business."
I glance out the window to his car, not seeing Tansy through his nearly transparent windows.
"Is she in the trunk?" I ask him, raising a brow due to his lie.
"She's in the fucking car." He states, throwing his key on the counter. "Go look." He adds.
"Vivian," Duff says when he gets to us.
"Stay in here so they don't think we're dining and dashing." I tell him, glaring at Sparkie before leaving, going to his car...
I open the back door, and I nearly puke with the smell of putrid sex invading my nostrils, Tansy's passed out, on her side in the floorboard, probbaly where he hit the brakes and her body fell...a tight tourniquet on her right arm, her tank top down her waist, exposing her breasts, her panties around her ankles.
If it weren't for her slowly, but consistent breaths, I'd think she was dead.
"Damn it." I mumble, looking back into the diner, seeing Sparkie staring at me.
He gives me a sick wink and I roll my jaw.
"Axl, I need a favor." I say into the payphone a few moments later while Duff is inside, paying for the bill, Sparkie and his "date" now sitting at a table.
I take full responsibility for Axl hunting Sparkie down and doing all but neutering him that night. Sparkie didn't dare go to the police, he knew I would sing like Pat Benetar about him trying to rape, and he was scared we would talk Tansy into exposing all of his and his friends' shit.
That night was enough for Axl to get the point across to Sparkie that he wouldn't be dating Tansy anymore.
I walk down from Duff's apartment, stepping to his car, getting back into the passenger seat to tell him 'bye' for the night.
"You gonna stay here with Tans?" He asks me and I nod.
"Yeah. Sorry if I ruined the date or whatever. I just couldn't let her stay in that car." I tell him and he shakes his head.
"Don't worry about it, I wouldn't have, either. It wasn't ruined." He assures me.
"Good." I smile, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
There's a moment of silence between us before I talk again.
"Well, I'm gonna go see if she's awake yet, and I'll see you when you get back." I say to him.
"Yeah, okay." He doesn't argue, licking his lips a little.
"See you later." I kiss his cheek, but as I go to open the door, he stops me, grabbing my hand. "What is it?" I ask him softly, a little worried...he just leans over to me, pressing his lips to mine.
I welcome it with open arms, worries and anxious demons melting from my mind as his hand slides to my waist and pulls me to him.
I'm straddling him in the next millisecond, my heart racing, my breath hitching as his tongue traces up my neck, hands sliding up my dress to unbuckle my bra.
It's discarded as fast as I can get it off, tossing it to the back seat, my nails scratching at his scalp as his tongue slowly circles my nipple through my dress, making me sigh out, a rush of endorphins plunging through my veins, my thighs sunconsciously spreading wider on his lap, aching to feel him against me.
My hands are tugging his belt to unbuckle, the sound of his zipper being undone sounds through the car, my palm running up and down soft skin, slickening with pre-cum, as "fuck" slips past his lips that are pulled into a high-like smile.
My tongue meets his as he pulls my panties aside and I run his top along my clit, to my slit.
I let out an airy breath when he pulls me down onto him, stretching me, filling me, my knuckles whitening while gripping his leather cloaked shoulders, the taste of cigarettes on my tongue as we both struggle to breathe, too overwhelmed and overtaken by the desire to throw ourselves into another stupidly reckless act that can only end in excruciating pain. But do we give a fuck? No. Just like me and Nikki didn't give a fuck.
A drug to take away the pain of withdrawing from another drug.
The windows are fogged in a couple minutes, his fingers pressing to my clit while my teeth sink into his bottom lip...eyes screwing shut, thighs tensing, an occupied abdomen tightening as cum flows over his price that's still in me down to his balls.
"Duff," It's whimpered out, my vision blurring a little and my hearing wonky.
How high is my blood pressure from this?
He's pulling out of me in another moment, spilling into an old napkin plucked from a cupholder beside us.
My forehead rests against his as I collect myself, my vision and hearing coming forth once more after a minute of recovery.
"You okay?" He asks me and I nod.
"Yeah." I let out, going to fix my panties and pull my dress down as he tucks himself back into his pants.
"I'll see yo—"
There's a polite knock at the fogged drivers window and he and I jolt a little.
"It's Tansy." I tell him, running a hand through my hair.
He reaches his hand down and rolls the window down manually, a man I don't recognize standing before us, looking down at us, a slight frown on his lips.
Duff looks mortified.
"M-Matt?" He asks, his voice shaking slightly.
Who?
There it was.
Duff's older brother, someone he admired, catching him with a woman every one in L.A. knew was married.
There. It. Fucking. Was.