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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Look at me writing in third person again....I've missed this!
Warning(s): drug abuse, violence
"Wake up."
Christine shook her head and pulled the comforter up to hide her face when Nikki wouldn't stop prodding at her sides. She whined because she knew that the reason he wanted to break her from her, well deserved, slumber was that he wanted to get high with somebody.
At that point in their relationship, she was no stranger to being used for her company. Nikki did it to her all of the time. Especially when Tommy was too preoccupied with his brand new flavor of the week, to be able to fit heroin time with his Terror Twin into his newly appointed schedule.
But she was just as bad for it too. She didn't like being alone and jacked up, higher than hell in the house all by herself. Nikki provided some kind of comfort and, ironically enough, a sense of stability that she never got when doing it with anybody else.
Maybe it was because he was her husband that made her feel that way. Or maybe it was down to the fact that Nikki understood where she was coming from when she said that she felt empty without heroin. Nobody else seemed to feel that same way.
"I've been thinking...." she trailed off as she rubbed the cocaine residue from her pointer finger against her gum, sighing out at the satisfying burn.
Nikki laughed humorlessly to himself and popped the cap off of a fresh needle. He looked up at her and the way she was deep in thought. His face softened, suddenly taking interest. "What about?"
Her lips curled into a smile as she fiddled with the lighter, clicking it and watching the flame bounce before her face.
"Chris," he snapped her out of whatever trance that she was in, and her smile never once faltered when she looked up at him.
"Yeah?"
"What were you thinking about?"
"Oh, that," she put the lighter down and shifted a little bit so her back was against the bed, and she was directly in front of Nikki. "According to astrology--"
Nikki scoffed. "Astrology?" she nodded "if you're gonna tell me that my horoscope for this week says that I'm a huge, good for nothing, asshole, then I already know. Vince already got that one covered." He sighed.
The band had been taking Vince's release, and immediate immersion back into making music, fucking hard.
Things were absolutely not going swimmingly for the four of them. And, to top it all off, Vince was going through a divorce which saw his time being unevenly divided between his lawyer and his band.
And, obviously, Sixx was less than impressed.
But they were on track, and the album was done by May of '85 to be released in June. Christine and Beth were convinced that 'Theatre Of Pain' was the worst album that the band had made, but they bit their tongues for fear of what might've been said.
