My father put the money in an offshore account; Collin and I decide to only move half of it into an account we can use, keeping a nest egg for emergencies. With the money we pull out, we pay off outstanding bills, stock up the fridge, get ourselves a car, and shove the rest of it up our noses. We make a decision not to shoot any of it up. Taking a page from Terry's book, we try buying more coke and mixing the lines more evenly to cut back a little on our heroin consumption. It's hard to tell if it's working, especially since we run out of the H sooner than the cocaine.
I walk out to the kitchen table, a lit cigarette in my mouth and an empty water glass in my hand. "What's with the brand new Buick out front?" Tery grunts from the table, scratching balls beneath his stained underwear. "Don't worry about it," Collin tells him, taking the cigarette from my hand and taking a drag. "Dont fucking worry about it? Its sitting in front of MY house!" he starts to bitch, flipping the newspaper aggressively. "A house where the lights are still on and the hot water still works- you're welcome," I pull a baggie of coke from my bra and toss it onto the table in front of him. Terry continues to mutter under his breathe, but takes the baggie into his hand. Mickey walks into the kitchen and does a double take. "Is that my fucking shirt?" he asks me. Looking I down, I see Marilyn Manson's face looking back up at me. "Looks like it," I smirk, blowing cigarette smoke at him. "Yeah, well, make sure that nose bleed doesnt stain it," he quips, rubbing under his own nose then pointing at me. Confused, I life a hand to my face and turn to Collin. "Jesus christ, babe, your nose!" He reaches over and wipes the stream. "Fuck," I say, wiping the blood from my hand onto my bare leg. "And while you're both outta your cave," Mickey continues taking a bite outta a piece of toast. "Figured nows a good enough time to tell ya that if you're gonna fuck, maybe you shouldn't be on so much fucking shit. It takes for fucking ever for you two to fucking get off and I'm sick of listening to it." Collin punches Mikey's arm. "I don't hear you bitching about the house being 70 fucking degrees in this heat," Collin grabs the toast from Mickey's hand. Mickey turns to me. "Yeah, well, my gratitude to the mob boss in the sky." Snatching his toast back from his brother, he winks at me and leaves. Sipping from my water, I turn to Collin. "Let's go get tattoos."
The sound of buzzing needles fills the air around us in the tiny tattoo shop. A long haired man is hunched over a stencil, drawing up our tattoos. "You nervous?" I flick Collin's nipple. Groaning in mock pain, he pulls me into his chest and rubs the peach fuzz that covers my head. "Asshole!" I giggle, pushing his chest. We popped an exstacy pill on the way over and I feel the giddiness washing over me. One look at Collin's pupils, and I know hes feeling it too. Dragging my hand across his cheek, I feel the stubble brush against my skin and it tickles me down to the bone. Collin laughs and I feel the vibrations thru my body. "All ready!" the man says, turning to us and holding up the designs. "Doooooope," I giggle, pulling the tops of my jean shorts down. "I'll go first!"
We're still rolling by the time we make it home. Both of our pants are undone, revealing bandaged spots above our pelvic areas. Bursting thru the door, we collapse onto the loving room couch in a fit of laughter. Waving my hand across his face, I yell, "can you see the trails?!"
"Why are you yelling?!" He laughs at my face.
"Because theres a disco playing in my head!" We lose it and I laugh so hard, it stretches my new tattoo. Mickey and Iggy run past the door. Mickey doubles back and looks in on us. "What the fuck are you two on?" I throw a couch pillow at him. "Exxxxxxx," I hiss. Reaching into the pockets of my shorts, I pull out a baggie of blue pills. "You guys want one?" Iggy bounds towards us. "I'm down!" I hand him a pill. Mickey slouches over and sticks his hand. "The fuck you guys got going on there?" He motions to the bandages. I hand him the pill, tuck the rest back into my pocket, then tear off the bandage. "Voila!" I shout, the vibrations from my voice echoing in my brain in technicolor. Collin is etched across my flesh in calligraphy. Collin pulls his own bandage off. Jagger decorates his crotch, with a set of lips next to it. "Those are mine," I point gleefully to the tattoo. "Holy fuck," Mickey rubs his temples. "You two.." Collin laughs at him then asks where they were headed. "Gotta lick to hit; old lady in a mansion. You want in?" A look of pure joy spreads across Collin's face. "Fuck yeah, man! I haven't been out in a minute!" he zips up his jeans and pulls down his shirt. Mickey looks over at me. "You too, Nikki Sixx; last thing I need is you od'ing while nobody is home." A giggle gets stuck in my throat. "I was just gonna throw on a Doors album and-" but before I can finish, Mickey and Collin each grab one of my arms, Mickey saying, "Yeah, yeah, probably shove some PCP up your ass, now come on."
A white van sits out front waiting for us. I vaguely recognize the driver until we hop in. "Ian Gallagher!" I cheer, greeting him with a hug. Ian looks at Mickey just as Collin shoots me a glance. Elbowing him in the ribs, I scoot back into my seat. Ian looks back at me. "You seem... pleasant. Today."
"Thanks," I grin. "Its probably all the MDMA coursing thru my system."
