Saving Motley Crue

Chapter 1- Waking up in 1982

Oh man . . . I never got a headache, so I was totally mystified when I came to with a brutal headache and in a bed that felt foreign. Panic instantly sent my eyes flying open because definitely couldn't think of one normal scenario in which I would wake up in someone else's house.

Muffled voices came through the closed door to the room that was entirely bare except for the mattress I was sleeping on and a few discarded beer bottles. There were men's voices, and I tried to bite back the cry when I feared I had been kidnapped.

I tiptoed to the door and opened it a crack so I could hear what the voices were saying.

"Dude, she's gotta be yours."

"I was with a blond last night I swear."

"Whatever, Tommy, she's gotta go."

Despite being puzzled and slightly disgusted at what they were saying, I knew who the voices belonged to instantly, and I couldn't understand it.

Tommy Lee, Nikki Sixx, and Vince Neil were outside my door- well, apparently their door. So many thoughts entered my mind- on one side, a part of me felt faint because I was so in love with them, and on the other side, I was wondering if it could really be possible that I might tell them about their programming before it happened to them.

I quickly glanced down to check what I looked like after waking up in a strange place with a headache- was I dressed in pajamas? Did I look like something the cat dragged in? Nope, I looked slightly unkempt, but decent- I took a quavering breath before slowly opening the door. Standing sort of huddled together in the middle of a dinky little kitchen were all the members of Motley Crue, each one exactly as I had imagined a thousand times: Vince was leaning against the counter with legs crossed in shimmery leather pants, bright eyes locked on me in uncloseted fascination; Mick seemed tired and very unphased; Tommy hadn't even noticed I emerged because he was struggling to fix a cigarette he accidentally crushed; and Nikki had his arms crossed and sunglasses on so I couldn't determine what he was thinking.

"So, whose are you?" Nikki finally broke the silence by asking briskly, and I couldn't help snapping back, "I'm not anyone's! I-" Should I tell them? No, they would never believe me. I finally just settled on stating unashamedly, "I came here alone and I'm not a groupie."

The boys all looked at each other with a mix of doubt and confusion before Nikki asked hopefully, "Are you a record exec?"
I suppose they thought I could be because of the leatherbound briefcase I always lugged around with me in which I carry my special writing notebook, four pens each of different tips, a snack in case I got hungry, and a mug of warm soup. You can never be too prepared.

So that nobody else would ask me questions before I could collect my thoughts, I said quickly, "Nope. Say, does anyone want breakfast? Because I know I'm starving." I brushed past Nikki somewhat smugly because he was a real piece of work, noting the admiration in Tommy's eyes. I pulled open the fridge, and was surprised before I remembered who I was dealing with. There was just a carton of very old milk, about two dozen eggs - surprisingly- and about two dozen bottles of cheap beer.

I began to fix the eggs with the few kitchen supplies available, and assumed no one said anything further to me because if they were going to kick me out, they'd at least like to get a meal out of it.

As I absentmindedly watched over the eggs popping in the pan, the only sounds filling the otherwise silent room, it occurred to me with a pang of guilt that I shouldn't be fawning over them or treating them exactly like normal boys- my eyes flickered up to Tommy, who was sitting on the floor, watching a cockroach with the undue attention only a drug-addled mind would pay it. I thought of his dad being a Freemason and a military intelligence officer, and the horrors he had to grow up with- it made me want to help him, hug him, do something. But I knew that my only real choice was to get them to trust me, then help them remember so they could escape.