Chapter 9 - Gore and Porn

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Nikki

I’m somewhat uncomfortable after the talk with Tommy. I don’t do well with sharing emotions and deep thoughts. It makes me feel vulnerable, and I fucking hate that. I’d like to just put the movie in and forget about it. Tommy leaves the room for a few, as I just daze out into space, trying to understand all of the moving parts of my life; the band, my past, my near-death experience, and Tommy. I just miss the days when I could wake up, raise hell, and go to bed with not a fucking care in the world. Well, maybe I’ve never had it that easy. There’s always shit on my mind. Drives me fucking insane. 

Tommy comes back, reeking of whiskey. I know now that he’s got it stashed somewhere in my house. Whatever. He seems to have lightened up some. He puts the movie in, and it’s soon like old times. Just the 2 of us laughing at shit, and not caring about anything. 

Tommy and I always assign ourselves to characters in these stupid, gory slasher movies. I’m usually good at choosing the movie’s protagonist to be me. I get to survive, and I get to fuck the hottest girl. Sometimes, I need to be brave and sacrifice myself at the end for the good of humanity. It’s a valiant death. I hate when the movie has a girl as the main character. Her partnered hero is usually some dowdy, nerd boy. No way will I take that fucking role. I gotta take a chance and go with the bad boy and hope that he’s not too much of a douche. But he always is, so I usually wind up getting my brains eaten, or if I’m being naughty with the girls, I get my dick severed. Tommy busts the shit out of me when I choose wrongly with the character, as if it really happened to me. Bet he’s glad now that it’s fake fun and games because a brainless and dickless boyfriend would be pretty boring to have. 

Tommy always like to choose the dumbest ass in the movie who’s going to get diced up and fileted, or have his guts ripped out while fucking the village bimbo with big tits. All about getting titties at any expense for him. He loves it; he just laughs his ass off all night. Damn, I really miss these easy nights like this with my buddy. But, I also don’t want to stop what we’re doing behind closed doors. Not sure if we can keep up both without problems. Time will tell.

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The movie is over. I lived, he died. It’s not that late, around midnight. There are times that we’re just getting ready to go out at this time. It’s funny how quickly things change. I’m not sleepy, but I’m not charged up either. Tommy suggests digging into my collection of porno tapes. I don’t care. I’m not ready for bed yet, and I can’t numb my mind with narcotics anymore. I need to do something. This is exactly what I don’t like about sobriety, boredom and clear thoughts. 

I’m waiting to be slammed by a deluge of shitty memories from my past. I guarantee that’s going to come when my mom calls. I think I may have heard her voice come through on my answering machine earlier. I blocked it out. I can’t and won’t listen to that shit.

She must know about my overdose by now. I told my grandfather that he could tell her what happened to me when he felt the time was right. He must have called her when he got home. Or maybe I’m just imagining her voice in my head. It haunts me sometimes. Shit is gonna get tough for me soon. That’s when I’m either going to turn back to my deadly lifestyle or decide to go to rehab. Nothing good about either of those choices that I can see.

Tommy selects a couple of videos. Entertaining I guess. We usually provide running comedic commentary during the videos. It kills time. He’s gotten up a handful of times, I suspect to polish off his bottle. He seems pretty fucking soused, and obviously not trying to hide it from me anymore, with the exception of not drinking it right in front of me. 

It’s close to 2am, and I think that maybe I’m tired enough for bed. I’m feeling pretty accomplished, realizing that I didn’t need to make an emergency run to the bathroom. I’m still sore and strained. My chest still hurts. Headaches come and go. I don’t have a full appetite yet, and I’m still a bit run down and fatigued. But, I think that most of the other symptoms of the detox are over with; the worst ones.

Don't Go Away Mad // Nikki Sixx x Tommy Lee - LexxWhere stories live. Discover now