Hell On High Heels | Mötley Crüe

Chapter 2: Who's Your Pretty Friend?

The Seventh Veil, 1985:

"Rebecca!" A Light High-Pitched voice called. I turned and looked over my shoulder to find my friend and fellow co-worker Adriana waiting for me holding a sparkly bra in her hands. I gave her a puzzled look. It was Friday night, also known as our busiest night of the week. And every Friday, I can't help but to think that half of Los Angeles piles in at 10:00 pm into the tacky pink and purple structure. And yet, here she stood backstage. Half naked and looking back at me with an expecting look on her face, a bit of the purplish light from the stage slipped back here, it shined on both of our faces.

"Adriana! What are you doing?" I questioned, our shift was about to start and she wasn't ready. "We go onstage in five!"

"I know! I just wanted to know if you're coming to the party tonight with the rest of us. Pamela's going to meet us there." She defended, lifting her hands in the air in a surrendering gesture.

I smiled and rolled my eyes. "Of course, now go finish getting ready, slacker." I teased with a lazy smile crossing my face. She grinned back at me before going back to getting ready for the show.

Adriana had piercing green eyes and chestnut hair with tanned skin to match. She and I had met around a year ago when Pamela introduced us at The Whisky A Go Go. Her and Pamela were really close, or at least they were when they were drunk. Which ended up being 90% of the time. So for all intents and purposes they were best friends.

We weren't really all that close, but Adriana was fun and good to have around at parties. Much like the party I would be at as soon as my shift ended. I felt excitement build in my chest. I knew that all of my friends would be there and the usual trail of booze behind them would follow. And in all honesty, I couldn't wait to get drunk and have a good time with them.

After two months of living with Pamela, I ran out of the remainder of my dad's money I that I still had access to and was unable to keep up my part of rent. I had only gotten a few acting roles, but those weren't happening as often as I imagined. And waitressing wasn't the road to riches that I had hoped. Eventually, Pamela and a few of her friends talked to their boss and scored me a job at the infamous Seventh Veil along with them. Every night and-well, if I'm being honest-every day was a party filled with sex, drugs, and rock n' roll.

And I loved it.

I finished touching up my makeup and teasing my hair in the mirror and took a deep breath in before walking out onstage and swaying my hips to the pulsing music for the herds of men that showed up every night.

...

My shift passed by quickly. And with the exception of some wasted dude trying to start a fight, it was a run-of-the-mill night. The rest of the girls and I met backstage after and got dressed. Well, as much as anyone does for a party. I decided to wear casual denim shorts paired with a cropped old Aerosmith T-shirt cut low enough to catch anyone's attention. I checked my reflection one more time before heading out the door. My long blonde hair cascaded far past my shoulders and my blue eyes looked larger than oceans with the amount of makeup I had on from earlier because of my shift. Satisfied with my appearance, I joined Adriana with some of the other girls at the door and headed out.

It would have taken only five minutes to get there, but since Adriana decided she wanted to talk to some guy, we had to wait for her to get his number.

Once we finally arrived at the apartment, I made a beeline for Pamela, leaving our little group behind me. The apartment was small. Too small to have 200 drunk people in it. I don't know how we even managed to squeeze through the front door. The layout was simple enough, with the bedroom and bathroom to your left when you walked in and the living room and kitchen on the right. I found Pamela in the corner of the kitchen, pushed up against some guy with ginger hair that hung just above his shoulders. Her hand slide up his leather clad torso and he began to work on moving the strap of her dress. I made my way over to my friend.