Nikki Sixx pry's himself on being in the sleaziest dirtiest rock band Motley Crue. He is considered the bad boy of Rock n Roll and has a reputation that proves it. He meets a model/actress who is the complete opposite of him. Fiesty, posh, stuck up...
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Okay, don't yell at me. I know these are two different years. But this is the only picture I could make of Iman and Nikki with paparazzi. The ninety-seven pictures just weren't working. So yes🤷🏾♀️
My hands are trembling, my heart is racing, and every word feels like a struggle to articulate. It's as if a thousand butterflies have taken residence in my stomach, fluttering with an anxious energy that's hard to shake off.
Today was the American Music Awards. Not only are we attending but we are also performing. We haven't performed with each other, meaning with Vince since ninety-one. Sure, we've been doing songs and rehearsals. But this was big. Vince was now back in the band, and this was our chance to display a new and improved Motley. Old fans who missed us and new fans who will love us. We decided on performing Shout at the Devil. But we changed the beat and tunes to something different. I just hope people will love it.
I called Mani a couple of times to ask her if she could attend the award show with me. But she couldn't. The most she said was that she could meet me at the after-party. I won't lie, I'm a bit skeptical. But I need to trust her. Trust that she will keep to her promise. That we would come out to the world with our relationship. No more hiding.
And speaking of no more hiding. I need to talk to Tommy. I haven't gotten the opportunity to tell him that I and Iman were working things out. I don't know how he's going to feel about it. Lately, he's been a bit frustrated. Not sure what's going on in his home life. But he's been shutting me out. We don't have that bond that we used to have. But it's still important to me that he knows about me and Iman.
I heard the honking of the limo outside my gate. I pressed the buzzer to let them in. I waved at the limo and got a response with a head nod from the driver. I looked in the mirror for the last time. I'm draped in a sleek, silver shirt with black leather pants, the material clinging to my frame with a confident allure. The jacket, meticulously tailored, hugged my shoulders, exuding a sense of edgy sophistication. With each step. My pants made a subtle whisper, announcing my presence with a subtle swagger. Yes, I looked fucking good. I lifted my hands making the devil horn sign then headed out the door. The next house we were heading to was Tommy. Maybe before we pick up Vince and Mick, I could talk to him about Iman. Although maybe I shouldn't. Pam will be in the car.
We pulled up to Tommy and Pamela's house. The two walked out all over each other as usual. I raised my brows to see what Pam was wearing. A gigantic black hat that looked like what a pimp in the seventies would wear covered the top half of her face with a red sequence dress that was so tight it hugged her body revealing every inch of her curves.
The chauffeur came out and opened the door for them. Pamela's hat hit the top of the car several times before she was able to get in. I don't understand why she couldn't just take it off and climb in. Or throw that awful hat away. Tommy climbed in after her and immediately they started sucking each other's tongues. I'm sure they'll be doing a lot of that when we arrive at the awards. And after party.
