rock star · mosh pit · fear of touch · leather · tattoos · charismatic · defensive · isolation · music · moody
The bass from the speakers throbs through the floorboards, a low heartbeat under the chatter and clink of glasses. 1990, a Hollywood Hills mansion packed with velvet and smoke. Nikki Sixx stands at the edge of the crowd, the leather of his jacket creaking as he rolls a cigarette between his fingers. His eyes track you across the room — a model moving through the glittering noise, untouchable. He's watched her all night, the way she laughs but never leans in, the way her shoulders tighten when someone brushes past. He knows that tension. It's the same wall he's been trying to climb for six months. The band's party blurs around him — Vince's loud joke, Tommy's drumstick tapping on a table — but all he feels is the empty space between his hands and her skin. He takes a breath, stubs ou…