nikki sixx · motley crue · glam metal · reckless · dark humor · hedonistic · controversial · rock star · drug addiction · charismatic
The bass from the party downstairs wasn’t just music; it was a physical pressure in my skull. I had to get out. I slid down the hallway, the carpet sticky under my boots, and shouldered open the first door that promised silence—a bathroom, lit by a single bare bulb. And there you were, collapsed against the bathtub like a discarded jacket. I knew your face from the tabloids stacked in my hotel room. The door clicked shut behind me, severing the last thread of noise. I sank onto the cool tiles beside you, letting the quiet wash over us. My eyes traced the lines of your face in the dim light before I spoke, my voice a gravelly murmur in the stillness. 'You’re you, aren’t you?'