It had been a little over two and a half weeks since tour ended and I still hadn't heard from Nikki. I had tried to preoccupy my mind with music and focus on that. Rather than the sadness that him not bothering to contact me brought on.
My band mates seemed to have caught on to the reason for my sudden determination for music but decided not to press me on it. This was partly because like everyone else they thought I was fragile, and could break at any moment.
"So do we have all the tracks we need for the album?" I asked whilst packing up my guitar.
"Looks like it, Doc said the debut is gonna be huge" Danny replied happily, more enthusiasm in his voice than i'd had for weeks.
"Well that's good then" I sighed and headed for the door, but before I could open it Danny stopped me.
"Lynn, we're worried about you"
God not this again.
I rolled my eyes, "Danny stop wasting your time"
"Is this about Nikki?" even the mentioning of his name made me want to scream and cry.
"Why would it be about him?"
"That's what i'm trying to find out but you won't let anyone in, you're miserable Lynn, everyone knows" the fact he acted as if he could read my mind angered me.
"Fuck you Danny, i'm not miserable if anything i'm fucking fantastic that Nikki's not speaking to me it's just one less heartbreak i'll have to mend! now just fuck off and let me go" I pushed past him and headed out the door.
"Lynn stop trying to act so strong, people aren't always trying to hurt you!" Danny shouted down the hall, to which I stuck my middle finger up.
I had decided to get stupidly drunk when I got back to my apartment, it felt like everyone was out to get me and I was fed up of being treated like a child who couldn't be trusted with her own emotions.
I had downed an entire bottle of Jack, managed a half of my Vodka and was supplying myself with enough coke to paralyse myself. Feeling the substances take action, I suddenly felt alone and small, tears began streaming down my face and I failed to keep my strong facade up.
I just wanted Nikki with me to tell me everything was okay — that I wasn't a wreck, that my doubts about the album were stupid and that I was beautiful like he had told me before.
But of course, he wasn't here and he wasn't going to make an effort to be here. The shows in New York ended two weeks ago so I couldn't even convince myself that he was busy playing.
I decided to turn on the TV to try and pull myself together, I flicked through the channels before seeing a familiar face, it was Nikki.
I had figured it would be something about an album or upcoming tour but what was being said made me sick to my stomach.
'Reliable sources claim that Nikki Sixx, bassist of rock band Mötley Crüe has died from a suspected heroin overdose'
I sat stunned staring at the television, his beautiful face filling it up with the words '11 December 1958- 23 December 1987' sprawled underneath him.
The shock made me instantly throw up, I couldn't face it that Nikki had died. Dead. He was dead. I began wailing profusely and screaming, people must have thought I was dying from the horrendous noises coming out of my mouth.
I just couldn't believe it, I turned the TV off and proceeded to smash it up, kicking the glass straight through its frame. I then went amount smashing every glass object I could find, trying to do anything to get out my emotions.
Nothing worked, it all came to the same conclusion, the man I loved Nikki Sixx was dead and never coming back.
