The very last thing that Christine Hill expected was the exponential success of Mötley Crüe-the band she loved to hate.
And she never would've surmised that she'd be dragged-kicking and fucking screaming, by the nape of her neck-along for the wilde...
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Warning: drug abuse
addiction /əˈdɪkʃ(ə)n/ noun noun: addiction; plural noun: addictions the fact or condition of being addicted to a particular substance or activity.
"She blamed the recent adultery on her ever present drug addiction."
I really had to fight the urge to smile when Nikki's hand landed onto my thigh, and he started to gently rub it underneath the table--smirking at me when he noticed how flustered it was causing me to get.
"Last one tonight. How're we feeling about going home?" Tommy inquired, taking a sip from his strawberry milkshake.
"Technically, last night was our 'last one'" Nikki replied smartly and I started to roll my eyes when he kept talking "tonight, we're just here to watch Oz and his guys. But, I think I'm gonna miss touring for a little while--at least we're gonna be back on the road next month--"
My brows furrowed and I looked at Nikki who was just staring at me, and Tommy nodded with a smile "--I'm sorry?"
"What? You didn't--you didn't know?"
"No..." I said slowly, looking to Nikki while my lips started to contort "what're the plans then?"
"Well, when we get back--dude" we both shot our glares at Tommy who was just finishing his drink, slurping ridiculously loud in an attempt to collect every last remnant.
"Oh, sorry" he rubbed the milkshake from his mouth, smiling awkwardly "carry on."
"What I was saying was, when we get back we have like a month at home, before we head off on the US leg of the Shout tour--then we come home for Christmas."
I nodded, smiling "and after that?"
"After that, I think, it's May through November..." he trailed off, avoiding eye contact with me. But I quickly caught on.
My hand was quick to cup his chin as he turned away, forcing him to look down at me as I fluttered my lashes "and..." I looked at him expectantly because I knew that there was more to what he was telling me.
He pursed his lips before sighing out, "after we get back, Doc wants us to make a start on writing for the new album--but we'll probably get some done while we're away."
"Do you really think that you're gonna be writing songs when you're touring? Look at you now" I gestured to him, how his eyes were droopy and his hair was flat to his head, hardly looking as lively as what he could've been. "Babe, we're out all night every night. I can't remember the last time you drank something that wasn't a spirit, and you're always tired out from playing every night...just go easy on yourself--you'll have enough time to write when we get home."
