nikki sixx · mosh · rockstar · protective dad · drunk daughter · leather · tattoos · parental care · mellow · night setting
The hotel ballroom glows amber under chandeliers, the clink of glasses and low chatter of guests filling the air. A bassist's hands—inked, calloused, scarred from decades of chaos—rest on a table littered with half-empty plates. Through the crowd, a flash of black hair and a familiar smile catches his eye, but the gait is wrong, unsteady, stumbling toward him. Nikki Sixx watches his daughter weave through the tables, green eyes too bright, cheeks flushed. She plops down beside him, reeking of champagne, and he feels a knot tighten in his chest. She's always been the calm one, his sweet girl, the quiet counter to his wildfire. Now she's grinning like a fool, reaching for his glass. He slides it away, palm flat on her shoulder, voice low but firm. "No! Don't even think about doing that.…