Gateway Drug | Volume I

Gateway Drug | Part One

Warning(s): Explicit Language

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For anyone else born in the generation I was born in, they were usually allowed to go out on the weekends with their friends, do questionable things and actually learn from mistakes. I, however, couldn't learn from any mistakes because my parents didn't give me the room to make mistakes. If I even came close to something our church deemed "out of line", my mother would remind me "this is not what we do, Vivian" and I would correct whatever it was I was doing.

It drove my best friend, Tommy, crazy that I would never be able to hang out on some of the biggest nights for him to go watch bands play on the Sunset Strip. He had a passion for music and he wanted to share it with me, but he couldn't do that unless it was in the form of a cassette tape that would make my mother have a stroke, in his van every Tuesday and Thursday when I was supposed to be tutoring him but ended up getting off topic.

I finally went against my parents when Tommy got in to another band, as a drummer, our senior year.

"...Tommy, I am in bed. I have church tomorrow and my parents will kill me if I leave right now, especially if they find out it's to go venture down the strip." I argue to him, rubbing my tired eyes and he groans out.

"Viv, you're gonna get dressed, put on something hot, and get your pretty ass down here. I need your support. We've put out fliers everywhere but I don't know how many people are gonna show and I need my favorite girl in the entire fucking universe to come cheer me on." He argues and I yawn.

"Flattery will get you nowhere." I remind him at the sound of him calling me his favorite girl and he goes silent for a moment, prompting me to sigh out. "I will be down there as soon as I can be. If I get caught, I will kill you. You're buying me food after the show." I state and I feel his excitement through the phone.

"Ah, Yes! You're gonna fucking lose your mind, Viv-"

"Alright, I'll see you in a few minutes. I love you, bye." I hang up to avoid wasting time.

When I finally get down to the Starwood and get inside, I wait patiently for Mötley Crüe to start their performance, my nails nervously digging in to my palms at the little amount of people in here.

It's not packed out by any means but it's a decent amount of people, meaning if they blow it, it'll be hard to come back from it.

My green eyes catch on the first boy I see stepping on to the stage in bright red thigh-high boots, black leather pants and a red tank top with a fishnet mesh layered over it. Following the black-haired bassist is another man who looks a few years older, his black hair long and his choice of T-shirt and dark pants, less flashy than Vince Neil in his white leather pants and black and white striped shirt.

I roll my eyes at the mere presence of the blonde singer, fallen victim to his constant attempts at trying to get me in to bed with him since freshman year.

Lastly, I see Tommy, his excited, puppy-like energy beaming off of him. He sees me, giving me a subtle wave as he twirls his drum stick through his fingers.

His outfit is more so toned down like the guitarist's, leaving all the show to the bass player and Vince.

I hold my breath as Vince greets us all with a loud "Alright! We're Mötley Crüe!" As Tommy rattles the Cymbals for extra effect and I squeeze my eyes shut when he accidentally knocks one over and causes a loud crash on stage as it hits the floor.

People start booing and telling them to get off stage, which they ignore, and when Tommy fixes his drums and settles in, Vince starts up.

"C'mon, boys. Let's rock this hole." He says into the mic and I rub my forehead at how bad that sounds.