Motley Crue || Imagines.

Mick Mars #18 | Crushed.

Tw- self harm, mentions of abuse.

Fuckin crushed, that's what the guitarist of a local band was. She had a tough life.
First time Motley saw them was when they were opening for them.
Mick watched the girl, he has to admit, she's got chops.
"She rocks, huh man?" Tommy asked, "Yeah, not bad," Mick agreed.

She had style, she had flare, and she was fierce. As the band ended, they walked on over, "No," she said as Vince went to open his mouth, he pursed his lips and Mick snickered, "Hah, sucks to suck kid," Mick said as they made way on.

The girl who played guitar, was broken, but no one knew her story, not even her bandmates.

You see, when she was young, she was abused beyond comprehension. Not even the wildest of rock could save her.
She struggled with anxiety, depression and addiction, addiction of cutting...

She sat at the back of the venue, her hands resting on her forehead as she sighed into the cold air, fuck this weather.

Months later the two bands ran into each other. of course, both guitarists were so uninterested and just sat around while they rambled shit.

The phone rang, she reached over and put it to her ear. They looked at her and she frowned as she listened.

She threw the phone against the wall and stormed out of there.
Everyone looked at each other. Mick sighed and got up, making his way outside to the girl.

Her name was Silvia.

"Silvia?" He asked, she sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, "What's happened?" He asked, "I'm just fuckin destined for hell man, I open the phone, my mother screaming down my neck and telling me what a waste of space I am," she said biting back tears as she stuck her tongue against her closed lips.

"I give up man, I give up," she said, he sat beside her, putting an arm around her shoulder as she broke down, crying into her hands.

"I got you man," he sighed, he wasn't one for affection, but this was needed.
"She blames me... I look like my father... My father died, and it's my fault," she said looking up at him, "It's not your fault," he told her, "It is my fault... It's all my fault... He killed himself," she said, his eyes widened in shock.

"He killed himself because of me... Because I'm too emotionless, or whatever the fuck that means," she scoffed.
"I'm unlovable, a mess, a monster," she told him.

"You're none of those things, that's not how I see you," he said, "Mick we barely know each other," she said, he wiped her tears and gave a small smile, "You're right, but I know enough about you, I think youre smart, beautiful, and a kick ass guitarist," he said, she smiled slightly and sighed as she hugged him, "I'm sorry Mick, for dumping this shit on you man..." She told him, "Better then listening to the boys fight," He sighed as he rubbed her back.

"Boys huh?" She chuckled, "How is it being the only chick in the band?" He asked, "Fucking shit. I can't have five minutes backstage without them starting a gang bang, sometimes I wish they'd have a little more respect for the women, and for themselves," she said, he snorted, "You know kid, maybe we aren't so different after all," he smirked.

She chuckled and the two went back inside.
"Don't worry about it," she told the boys who were about to ask.
"How the fuck do you know whenever someones gonna speak?" Vince snapped, "I have a nagging mother, what can I say?" She smiled.

A month since there. She was crying in her room as she held a picture of her father, he was smiling while holding her.

"Daddy..." She sobbed and dragged the knife along her skin. "I'm so sorry daddy," she said hugging the picture.

Her phone went off, then an audio message was sent. "Hey, it's Mick, I want to check on you... The boys in your band told me you're not acting yourself, distant they say... If anything up, call me," he said and then it beeped.

She crawled to her phone.
She rang him and sniffled as she waited for him to answer.
He did, "Silvia, are you okay?" He asked, "Micky, please come over..." She begged and gave him her address.

They hung up and she crawled down stairs, too exhausted to walk. The doorbell went off, she opened the door and Mick looked down. "Shit... Silvia!" He exclaimed as she was covered in blood.

He stepped in and closed the door, locking it and kneeling down. "Jesus..." He said grabbing her hands, inspecting the wounds.

"What's going on?" He asked, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I'm tired Mick... I just wanna fuckin give up... It's all my fault..." She sobbed, her photo falling to the floor. "Your dad?" He asked, she nodded, "He looks happy, I say your mother was full of shit," he said and gently helped her up.
"I'm gonna get you cleaned up," he said helping her upstairs.

He took her to the bathroom and grabbed a towel, "Ugh..." He said scratching his head, "My clothes are in the room behind you," she said, he went into the room and grabbed a cozy black jumper, a bra, underwear and shorts.

"You'll be alright?" He asked her, "I'll be okay... It just stings a little," she told him, he nodded and hugged her.

"I'm always here," he told her, "Thank you Micky," she sniffled and kissed his cheek, he nodded and walked out, sitting outside the bathroom with his back against the wall.

Minutes passed, "Micky, can you come in here?" She called, he got up and opened the door, "Oh- woah!" He said covering his eyes as she was in the tub, "Micky, I trust you," she said, he turned back and closes the door.

Kneeling down, "I trust you're not like Vince," she smiled, he chuckled and took her hand in his, the blood ran down to his fingers.

"You fucked yourself up real good..." He sighed, "It burns..." She said, "I know.." He said softly and grabbed a face cloth, gently holding it against her arm and putting pressure.

"You're my favourite guitarist in the whole world," she smiled at him, "You're mine too," he said, "You're saying that," she said.

"No, it used to be Ritchie Blackmore, but... You I know, you have talent, passion, you're beautiful and smart, and I know you well enough to call you my friend," he smiled, she giggled and teared up.

"Aww... No ones ever said something so sweet," she smiled, "You better get used to it then," he said and rested his head on her shoulder as she soaked in the warm water.

"You've got beautiful eyes..." She said, "Mm.." He hummed tiredly, "Micky, I like you... I'll keep going for you... And I'll stop cutting for you," she said.

"I hope you do," he said kissing her hand, she smiled and slowly fell asleep in the tub.

Then Mick woke up, he saw her sitting beside him, in a satin bathrobe.
"Silvy?" He asked shaking her shoulder, "Mmm?" She hummed tiredly, "Wake up... It's late," he said, "Plenty reason to sleep in," she smiled making him chuckle.

He helped her up and he lead her to her room.
"Don't leave me yet Micky..." She said, "Go in the morning if you have to, don't leave me alone now..." She begged, he sighed and took his jacket off, turning her light off, "I better not regret this," he sighed, "You won't, thank you," she said, "Yeah yeah, get some sleep, kid," he smiled.

The next morning, she woke up and he wasn't there. To be expected, but it still hurts. she went down stairs and there he was at the table, legs up and reading the newspaper with his Sunny's on.

"Morning, I made you breakfast," he said, she sat beside him, "Thank you Mick," she smiled, he hummed and she bit her lip, she kissed his cheek, he blushed and turned to her.

"I like you Micky," she smiled, "I like you too, we sound like high school kids," he whispered the last part making her laugh.

"I LOVE you then," she smiled, "I LOVE you too," he chuckled.