Piece of Your Action || Nikki Sixx

Chapter Eight

Mila worked double time pouring shots and making cocktails for the customers at the bar. It was a Friday night and the Whiskey was at full capacity. As the band on stage blared over the speakers, she passed drinks out and collected the tips thrown at her in her apron. So far she had made almost $200.00 and the night wasn't even over yet.

The boys had a show at a local club, sold out of course, and Mila had tried to get the night off so she could attend but one of the bartenders had called in sick. So there she was, serving drinks to pervs, punks, and party goers instead of at the concert.

As her shift came to a close, Mila counted her cash before wiping down the bar, taking off her apron, and clocking out. As she threw her jacket over her shoulders to leave, her manager Scott called out after her, "Don't forget to take out the trash!" He yelled. Mila rolled her eyes before turning around. "Come on Scott, can't you get somebody else to do it?" She asked. "It's your fucking turn!" Came the immediate reply. Mila groaned and walked over to the trash, tying it up and throwing it over her shoulder before heading out back to the dumpster.

As she walked out the bar's backdoor and down the poorly lit alley, Mila could hear footsteps not far behind her. She threw the trash bag into the dumpster and turned around. Just as she had suspected, there was another person in the alley with her.

The girl brushed the nervous feelings aside as she lit up a cigarette and started walking towards the street. Since the band had a gig this particular night, that meant neither Vince or Nikki was waiting to walk her home. As she got closer to the street and the man, she could tell he was staring at her. Mila blew out a cloud of smoke as she passed him and turned onto the street, walking towards her apartment.

As soon as the guy was behind her, the sound of him running towards her echoed in her ears. Mila spun around, slightly alarmed when he almost ran right into her. "What the fuck is your problem creep? Why are you following me?" Mila demanded as she took a step back. Now that the street lights shone on both of them, she could see that the man in front of her was a nicely dressed, slightly over weight, older gentleman.

The man chuckled as he replied, "I'm sorry I didn't mean to freak you out, I was just trying to make sure you were the girl I was looking for. My name is Doc McGhee, I'm an acquaintance of Tom Zutaut." He said with a smile as stuck his hand out for Mila to shake. The girl shook his hand, still waiting for an explanation. "Tom told me if I wanted to talk with the boys of Mötley Crüe, that it would be best to go through you." Doc explained.

Mila took another drag of her cigarette as she spoke, "Why? I'm not their manager or anything." She said, slightly confused. Doc laughed as he replied, "Well Tom said that when he spoke with the group the other night, you pretty much were. Told me you're the only one they really take seriously and listen to," Mila smiled slightly when he said this.

"They don't listen to anybody," She said as she put out her cigarette with a laugh. "So what do you want to talk to the boys about?" Mila asked. "I'm interested in managing them, I've worked with lots of bands and I see potential in them. I think they could really go far," Doc answered. "Well they're having a party at Nikki's place after their gig. I can introduce you but I can't make any promises on how it will go," Mila said with a shrug. "Sounds good enough to me," The man replied.

Music from Nikki's apartment could be heard all the way from the bottom of the stairs as soon as Mila and Doc approached the building. As the pair got to the top of the steps, she directed him to the window. "The cops kept busting in his door so he just nailed it shut. Now everyone just uses the window to go in and out," Mila explained when Doc looked at her with a confused expression. Mila maneuvered easily through the window into the apartment, but Doc had a little trouble and almost tripped over a bong laying on the floor.