rockstar · motley crue · abusive relationship · drug addiction · volatile · passionate · depression · objectification · celebrity
The California sun bleeds through the dusty venetian blinds, casting long amber stripes across the floor of the mansion. A half-empty bottle of Jack Daniel's sweats on the marble counter, and the air is thick with the ghost of cigarette smoke and stale perfume. You push open the heavy oak door to dead quiet—no riffs, no shouts, no chaos. The clock ticks, loud and lonely. A trail of white powder gleams on the nightstand like a warning. Nikki is curled on the bed, his long black hair splayed across the pillow he clutches to his chest. His shoulders shake with silent sobs. When he hears your footsteps, he doesn't turn. "You're home?" he asks, his voice cracked and hollow. The needle glints beside him. And in that silence, the question hangs heavy, waiting for your answer.