Hell On High Heels | Mötley Crüe

Chapter 6: Running To Me

Nakano Sun Plaza Tokyo, Japan July 7, 1985: First Theatre Of Pain Show Backstage:

How Funny Is It That the words 'I love you' can change so much?  Before it had always seemed like a loose term, one you use when someone loans you a cigarette.  Or when you date someone for months and it's just something you're expected to say.  Nothing more than a formality.  But the full power and intensity of it hit me now.

I sat on the side of the stage, watching Tommy tirelessly drum-his rhythm the constant backbone of the band.  He was a consistent machine of pattern and flow.  One that proved his talent and passion for music.  But my thoughts as usual had strayed away from the music.  I couldn't help but notice how his chocolaty brown mane of hair bounced along with him to the beat of the song.  Or how every so often he'd steal a glimpse in my direction, his grin even wider than the audience that was hung on every note that was played.  It was this that proved to me that those words meant more than I ever imagined.  

I sat on the top of an old black leather case, my fingers drumming on the dark leather along to the beat the band played before me.  The show had been great so far.  The band tirelessly delivered song after song for an hour, their raw edge never fading out.  The crowd had somehow managed to roar even louder, and I couldn't help the wave of pride that ran through me. 

Every so often protechnics would roar to life, and I found myself jumping in surprise each time I felt the overwhelming heat hit my face.  Even from my spot that was safely tucked away from the source of the flames.  Tommy had mentioned last night that they had to play a scaled down version of their show for the Japanese concert halls.  This had left me trying to image what the full sized show was going to look like.

"Hey!"  Barked one of the meaty security guards.  They had been patrolling backstage for awhile now and had taken an unfortunate liking to unnecessary yelling.  "Passes out!  I don't want to see any of you here who don't belong!"

I supposed he was talking to the small herd of girls who sat around backstage, waiting for the chance to grab any one of the guys after the show.  Most of them were Japanese, their dark hair teased as far as gravity would allow.  The girl who sat next to me, however, I recognized from earlier.  She was the blonde one who had so desperately clinged onto Vince.  I didn't even know how she managed to get there originally or how she had avoided security, due to the fact she didn't have a pass hanging around her neck.

"Come on ladies, get a move on!"  He shouted again over the screams of Mick's guitar.  One-by-one, girl after girl shuffled out.  And eventually, it was just me and the other blonde left.  A balding man barked at her to get her pass out, only to find she didn't have one.  I had already flashed the guard my pass, so I knew I was safe from his yells.  She, on the other hand, most certainly was not.

"You don't understand!"  She begged, "I'm with the band!"

"And I don't care.  If you don't have a pass, you're out!"  Her face dropped at this, and I felt pity spark up in me.  I wondered why these guards were so insistent on this.  After all, it wasn't like any of the guys would mind a little extra female company.

With a long face, she stood up, knocking into me so hard I almost fell off the black and silver case where I sat.  She reached out, steadied my small torso and raced off after mumbling a small apology. 

The security guard, apparently satisfied with his job, strolled away.  Leaving me slightly annoyed how the whole debacle had made me miss an entire song.  Agitated, I reached into my purse, hoping to find a cigarette to calm me down.  But the small pack was missing from the mess that sat inside my scarlet bag.  I silently cursed myself, knowing that I would have to go back to the dressing room to find them.