He's Toxic -★- Nikki Sixx

Prologue

I walked off stage, making my way towards the bathroom to fix up my makeup and hair. I watch a clearly drunk guy stumble towards me, not paying any attention to the fact that I was right there. He looked up and smirked.

"Hey, you were pretty good out there..." He grinned, hiccuping quietly as he ran a hand through his hair. "You're names Rayna something, yeah?" He asked, the jet black hair falling back into his face.

"Yeah. You're that Nikki guy from the London band that just split, huh?" I smirked, his expression shifting as he was reminded of the band. "They were shitty, anyway. You were better than them." I said, gently hitting his leather jacket, trying to cheer him up a bit.

He smiled to himself before looking back up at me. "Look, I'm clearly not... Uh.. Good for driving right now.... You think you could take me to my place?"  He asked, flashing a crooked smile. "Please?" He added.

I looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. This guy was a complete stranger—kinda cute, though—and I didn't know shit about him. Except for the fact he just got kicked out of a band for beating the shit out of the lead singer.... "Sure. But you have to grab a bag or some shit, 'cause if you vomit in my car, I will slit your throat." I smiled.

"Yeah! Yeah– I can grab a bag..." He hiccuped. "So, you leavin' right now?" He asked, his eyes meeting mine. They were a deep green. A green you couldn't pull your own eyes away from.

"I mean, I was going to fix up my makeup, but it seems you need to get home before you pass out..." I said, a small laugh escaping my lips. "C'mon, let's grab you a bag and get the hell out of here." I smirked. He nodded and followed me into the crowd of people.

Kind of a shitty design flaw... I mean, you have to navigate your way through a huge ass crowd to find the exit, then you have to beg intoxicated strangers to let you out. Most of the time, the people who are blocking the only exit are absolute dicks, so you gotta grab a bouncer and get them to push them aside.

We both left. I found my car and unlocked it, helping the tipsy man into the passenger seat before shutting the door and going to my side. I got in, looking at him as he stared blankly out the windshield.

"Hey, you okay?" I asked, catching his attention. He nodded, a weak smile forming on his lips. "If you say so..." I shrugged, starting the engine. "So what's your address?" I asked.

His eyes widened as the question struck him. "Shit..." He muttered.

"What?" I furrowed my eyebrows as he looked over at me with a concerned look.

"I uh... I can't remember my address." He said with a nervous smile. I sighed, sitting back in my seat, the leather of my seat rubbing up against my shirt. Do I invite this guy to stay with me tonight? I have an air mattress... But what if he's a creep? Shit, shit, shit. I groaned and looked at him. "Sorry?.." He asked, a little disheartened.

"No, it's fine... Do you want to stay at my place tonight?" I asked hesitantly. His eyes seemed to widen, probably shocked by the offer.

"Uh... Yeah– I mean, if you're okay with it?" He smiled nervously.

"Yeah, it's fine. But one night, Mr...?" I had realized I didn't know his last name. I've seen London play live and I couldn't name anyone but him, and only his first name.

"Sixx. I'm Nikki Sixx." He grinned. The name was really cool. Suddenly, I felt like my name was way too boring for this guy.

"I'm Rayna Smith." I smiled. "Basic name compared to yours." I shrugged, looking to make sure I could pull onto the road.