#my oc is either going to be. a friend of vince's who runs his own restaurant

[themattress]

The Butterfly Effect of Xion

So the Vince Vaughn movie Fred Claus has been on TV, and I have to paraphrase:

“I don’t hate you, Xion. I just wish you were never born.”

(XION FANS, DO NOT ENGAGE)

Dwelling on it recently, I came to realize just how damaging the existence of Xion has been on the Kingdom Hearts series. There were issues with her in her debut game of 358/2 Days, true, but they pale in comparison to what ended up happening in the games afterward. Xion’s existence created a Butterfly Effect, where five major problems that wrecked the series might not have occurred if the precedent hadn’t been set by Nomura and Kanemaki with Xion. 

1. So, Xion is a replica. She was meant to be a replica of Sora, but because the memories she absorbed from Roxas (because that’s a thing now) were Sora’s strongest memories, those of Kairi, she became a girl who resembled Kairi. Except when she isn’t and looks different depending on who is viewing her. This didn’t only over-complicate the replica concept in Days, but it set the precedent going forward that replicas could be used for anything the plot demands and ended up as the go-to method to bring previously dead or disembodied characters back (that and time travel). Back in CoM, the Riku Replica was just a clone of Riku, the idea was simple to grasp. Now replicas aren’t even really replicas at all. 

2. Let me point this out again: Sora’s fractured memories somehow escaped him and that’s never explained how this is possible. They go into Roxas and then “leak” out of him and into Xion, which is what gives her an identity. And Namine’s power over the memories of Sora and those aligned with him are now increased so that she can view memories currently being made by Roxas and Xion from a far away distance. This convoluted usage of the concept of memory only gets worse in Coded and 3D, and it’s unclear who remembers what anymore. Much like replicas, memories are now being used to make any ludicrous plot turn happen, and this especially damages Namine’s character given that she has power over memories.

3. So because Xion’s identity is composed of memories that need to go back inside of Sora, she ceases to exist after dying. Let me repeat: Xion ceases to exist. This is what is said by Namine, who is a pretty reliable source given how overpowered she’d become at this point: 

If you return your memories to him, you'll disappear. And since everything about you was built on those memories...no one will remember you when you're gone. There won't be any "you" to remember. I can't save you, Xion - even a memory of you.

Except that this totally becomes a lie in Coded, making it so that what Namine should have said was “Don’t worry, Xion - I can totes save a memory you inside of data placed within Jiminy’s Journal, and everyone will begin remembering you again in a few months’ time until finally you can come back to life and exist independently of Sora. There’s no stakes here!” 

And this begins one of the most damning trends in the series: previous canon is discarded on a whim in order to bring back characters who definitively reached a conclusion in order to give them an ideal ‘happily ever after’ ending as fanservice for everyone who likes them. Roxas, Namine, Xion, Axel, all the other Organization members, Ansem the Wise, Eraqus, even the goddamn Riku Replica...the dramatic power of their endings is completely undone against all internal logic and good storytelling sensibilities. And it all started with Xion, who even after ceasing to exist (making her deader than dead), still managed to give belated telepathic messages to Riku and Roxas the day afterward, leaving a door for revival open.

(Side-note: Nomura actually said in the BBS Ultimania interview that “there is no concept of death in the KH universe”. Really, now? Tell that to Hades, the lord of the dead. Or the numerous Disney villains who have died. Or good guys like Mufasa, Tadashi, or Bambi’s mother! Hell, even your own OC characters have acknowledged the reality of death: Xehanort’s entire impetus behind possessing Terra is because he was afraid of dying from old age before he could see his plan through to fruition! Nomura, you are an absolute hack.)

4. So, Xion is a Kairi look-alike who can wield a Keyblade. Chronologically speaking, she wielded a Keyblade before Kairi did, even though the game where Kairi did was released first. You have her in your party throughout Days, can play as her in Mission Mode, and then in KH3 she flat-out replaces Kairi in the party during the battle with Saix. Kairi, meanwhile, has never been playable, and had exactly 1 minute of time in the party before being taken out of it and replaced by Xion. Then she gets killed by Xehanort and is unable to take part in the big climax, but Xion does. And during all of this, Kairi is phased out of the trio between her, Sora and Riku, all while Xion is a retcon to the KH2-established duo of Axel and Roxas.

If Xion didn’t already feel like a self-insert Mary Sue from a fanfic before, she certainly does now. Kairi actually had narrative build-up and anticipation for years at becoming either a playable character or a full-fledged party member, and either way being an all-around capable Keyblade wielder who could fight alongside her friends Sora and Riku. But instead, this black-haired copycat of her who was created after the game where Kairi was given a Keyblade and was then said to be deader than it was possible to be gets all the glory.  

Just look at the cover of KH3. Kairi sticks out like a sore thumb because she remains the only one with alleged combat capabilities who has never ever been playable across the entire series’ existence, and whose time as a party member is pathetic compared to everyone else. Perhaps if we didn’t have Xion, who got 30 more votes than Kairi on an official popularity poll, the game developers would have felt more of a drive to develop Kairi and make her a competent combatant. But I say perhaps because Nomura would be a sexist pig either way.

5. Lastly, let’s talk about the “Seasalt Trio” that became a thing thanks to Xion. In KH2, the narrative was that Roxas and Axel had been friends, with Roxas having something of a heart and Axel actually being able to feel emotions due to forging a close relationship with him. But Roxas left the Organization to find out the truth about himself, disillusioned by Axel’s lies and possessiveness of him. Ultimately, when it came down to truly helping Roxas or just helping himself, Axel chose himself and tried to kill Roxas. When this failed and Roxas merged with Sora, Axel became consumed by guilt and tried to get Roxas back until he finally realized that his selfishness was the problem and reached true atonement to Roxas through sacrificing his life for Sora. And for his part, Roxas learned to be at peace with an existence as part of Sora, as he felt more emotionally fulfilled than he did as a Nobody and could still be with Namine.

While Days mostly stuck to the narrative in regards to Axel, the addition of Xion complicated things so that Axel was made to be viewed more sympathetic than he really should be. The connection Roxas had with Xion, meanwhile, totally eclipsed the one he had with Namine in KH2, to the point where all of Namine’s helpful actions toward Roxas are retconned into her subconsciously keeping a promise she made to Xion to look after him. And the idealistic friendship between the three of them, where they enjoy working together in the Organization and having ice cream together atop Twilight Town’s clock tower guaranteed that many players would no longer accept Roxas’ fate in KH2 as a happy ending for him. After all, if he was perfectly comfortable as his own physical existence and had good friends he enjoyed eating ice cream with all the time, then nothing less than that seems like it could make him happy.

And ultimately, not even the narrative around Axel was to last. In Days, he says to Xion that she and Roxas can “keep on running, but I’ll always be there to bring you back!” In context, this was a selfish, possessive threat. It was Axel saying “Screw what you two want or need! I want and need you at my side in the Organization and I’ll drag you back there against your will no matter how many times you try to escape!” But once Axel is revived as Lea in 3D, the narrative pretends that wasn’t the case and now insists that it’s a noble pledge, a promise to “always bring his friends back” when they disappear, and that it’s legitimately what they want him to do. An interesting, morally gray character was totally whitewashed so that he deserves the ideal happy ending that he receives. All from something he said to Xion.

So yeah, this is what holds me back from being a big Xion fan, and while I hold no personal animosity toward her, I deeply wish she had never been introduced into the series at all.

I wish she was conceived exclusively for Shiro Amano’s manga instead!

#Disney #Square Enix #Kingdom Hearts #Opinion #Analysis #Xion #Bad Writing #Jumping the Shark #This Franchise Got Screwed Up #Anti-Xion #(Sort of)

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Five

Part Four

Pairing: Douglas Booth!Nikki Sixx X OC

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: Language

Tag list: @fandomshit6000 @lilmou5ie @tamedhearts @divaanya @allieburakovsky @kingbouji3 @evrsncnewyork @6ixx6ixx @ratedrkohardychick91 @floregrohlssard @oldschoolimagineblog @thanks2pete @abaldboi @swoopygorl @justjodeye@liith-ium @caos18blog @ytwahsog

**Let me know if you want to be tagged**

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The weeks to follow that fight with Tommy were pretty screwy. My grades were, at that point, average instead of their usual above average, it was getting harder for me to hold my tongue anytime my mother ranted about the growing rock scene on the strip, and I just really missed my best friend.

Tansy and I were spending more time together but it just wasn’t the same as hanging out with Tommy. Tansy was too cautious about what to say sometimes, whereas Tommy didn’t have a filter. Although that was offensive sometimes, it was refreshing. Tommy wasn’t the only offensive one I missed. I got bored more often since I didn’t have Nikki to argue with, not to mention I really missed Mick’s blatant, unapologetic comments. I even missed Vince. Unfortunately, my feelings have never been a match for my stubbornness, especially back then. It’s what eventually caused some of the issues between Nikki and I. I never knew when to quit unless someone made me, and even making me took great lengths.

The wet pavement that smells of rain glistens under street lights as I make my way out of the church after Sunday night service, my arm encircling my bible as I reach in to my purse to grab my keys.

As I get closer to my car in the mainly empty parking lot, I see a familiar figure leaned against it with crossed arms and a bottle of Jack in his hand and I prepare myself for an argument, glancing around to make sure no one else is around.

Hazel eyes look me up and down as I step closer, a mocking smile on his lips as he scoffs.

“Uh oh, you dirty slut, your ankles are showing.” Nikki teases and I ignore him, going to open my door but he blocks me, his leg pressed to the door handle. “I thought you were dead.”

“Are you sure you want to risk being so close to a house of God? Aren’t you afraid you’ll combust?” I snap at him, putting my bible on the roof of my car and crossing my arms as he licks his lips.

“I’ve missed that bitchy little temper of yours.” He grins.

“And I’ve missed...” I take a second to think of what I’ve missed about him, but I can’t tell him I’ve missed him in general. He’ll get cocky. “...your hair.”

“My hair? That’s it?” He asks as if he knows I just made something up to avoid the truth and I raise my brows.

“Despite it being attached to a nitwit, I’ve always thought you had pretty hair. Take the compliment and go.”

“Gladly, once you and Tommy sort through this shit.” He states. “It’s getting harder for him to focus but he won’t come talk to you.”

“Ah, and the truth comes out. You aren’t here because you missed being a pain in my neck, you’re here to convince me to apologize so Tommy’s musical juices or whatever will start flowing again.”

“Yeah, yeah, Mötley Crüe’s success is at your mercy or whatever, just make it right.” He orders me sternly with a quick change of attitude, growing tired of my uncooperative stance already.

“I know you don’t know me very well, but I don’t do good with people telling me what to do. I’m known to retaliate and do the complete opposite.” I give him the same tone he’s giving me and he rolls his jaw.

“Why the hell can’t you just admit you were wrong?” He bites out and I laugh without humor.

“Was I?”

“Yeah, you were. It’s his fucking choice whether he wants to finish school or not. You’re only job as his friend is to support whatever the hell he does.”

“Have you always had friends that kiss your feet and don’t tell you when you’re being an idiot because it really sounds like you don’t know what actual friends do: tell you the mess you don’t want to hear but really need hear to anyway.” I cut my eyes at him. “At least that’s how actual friendships are suppose to work, last time I checked.”

“And last time I checked, Tommy didn’t come out of your pussy eighteen years ago, so there’s no need for you to be acting like his mother!” He raises his voice.

“If me wanting what’s best for him means I act like his mother, then so be it!” I shout, losing my temper. “It’s not any of your business, anyway, so screw off!”

“He’s a drummer for my band, shit is affecting Mötley Crüe, which makes it my business, and you don’t know shit about what’s good for him!”

“You’re impossible to speak a lick of sense in to, so I’m going home. Leave me alone.” I shove him hard enough that he actually stumbles back a couple steps, giving me time to open my car door, but I quickly regret it when it slams shut, catching my fingers in it.

And he’s completely unapologetic, knocking back a swig of whiskey as he watches me try to calm the excruciating pain in my fingers with tears coming down my face.

“Oops.” He mumbles. “Look, just get in the fuckin’ car and I’ll driv—” I use my unharmed hand to snatch the full bottle of alcohol from him, smashing it on the pavement and he gives me a black stare.

“Oops.” I spit out.

I don’t even think he’s mad about the wasted bottle of perfectly good liquor, until he’s suddenly grabbing me by my upper arm, hauling me roughly to the passenger side.

I’m tossed in to the car with little regard as he slams the door, walks around the car and gets in the driver’s seat, grabbing my Bible off the roof of my car.

“You can give me your keys or I can hot wire the damn thing, it’s up to you, either way you will be seeing Tommy tonight and apologizing. We’re not suffering all because you’re being a little bitch.” He tells me with little room to argue and I dig in my bag for my keys, trying to ignore the aching throb in my fingers on my other hand.

He takes the keys and throws my Bible in the backseat carelessly, causing me to cringe and he notices it.

“Sorry.” I barely hear him, but I know he says it.

Once we get to their run-down apartment, I stomp inside, not acknowledging Vince or Mick, or Tommy, who looks at me as if he’s just seen Jesus himself.

I go straight to the kitchen and dig through drawers and cabinets for any type of over the counter meds for my throbbing fingers that are turning black and blue and swelling up.

“Uh, Hey, Vivian.” Vince’s flat, sarcastic voice carries to the kitchen and I slam a drawer shut. “You know you can pitch a bitch fit tantrum at your own house, right?” He asks next and I let out a loud “ha” in response.

“Can I help you?” Nikki asks me in a critical tone, leaning against the counter and I dig through the drawer by the sink.

“You have done enough.” I refuse whatever he’s about to offer and he sighs.

“I didn’t mean to slam your fingers in the door.” He admits.

“You what?” Tommy’s asking from the living room and I raise my brows, seeing my moment of opportunity as the lanky drum player steps to the kitchen to confront Nikki.

“Nikki slammed my fingers in the door of my car.” I inform him but say it loud enough for Vince and Mick to hear.

“And she smashed our last bottle of Jack.” Nikki snaps back. “And it was a full bottle.” He’s pointing at me accusingly.

“You did what?!” Vince and Tommy nearly shriek out, looks of major loss on their faces.

“Oh my goodness, I completely forgot going a few hours without whiskey is going to kill you morons.”

“You’d be surprised.” Mick states, laying on the couch with his eyes closed as he listens to our disagreement.

“I’m sure you’ve forgotten a lot being that you haven’t acknowledged that any of us are even fucking alive for over a month, now.” Vince cuts in and I ignore him after I find a bottle of Tylenol, opening it, oblivious to the guys as they all say “no don’t.”

Just as soon as I try to pour a couple pills in my hand, my palm is filled with white power and they all wince. They groan a little as some of the pile falls on to the floor as if it’s painful for them to see it go to waste.

“Well, that’s not Tylenol.” I say, carefully pouring the powder back in to the bottle. I put the lid back on and toss the bottle on the counter, not having many words. Other than, “I’m not surprised.”

“You’re not mad?” Tommy asks me, motioning to the bottle and I bite my tongue at first but shake my head a little.

“Not my health. Not my problem.” I reply, about to walk out when Tommy grasps my wrist and looks at my damaged hand, and Vince glances at it, letting out a breath.

“Ya know, I can go to the store and get something over the counter.” He offers.

“Thanks.” I give him a small smile, looking at Nikki who’s staring at me. “Devil-Spawn has my keys.” I tell him. “If you ask him nicely for them... I’m sure he’ll still find an excuse to abuse you.”

“Fuck you.” Nikki throws at me.

It’s not in a smart tone, or even an angry one. He just sounds exhausted with fighting with me and I breathe out, feeling guilty.

He gives Vince the keys, and the blonde leaves us to our own devices.

Not long after the door closes, Tommy clears his throat and looks down at me, about to say something.

“I was out of line.” I interrupt him, his face in shock at my words. “When we had that argument, I was being too sensitive and overreacted. I know you didn’t mean it how it came out when you said your priorities have changed, and I’m sorry for not giving you time to explain. I’m very proud of you, I’m not disappointed that you won’t finish school because you’re going after what you want, I was just upset because it was out of my control and I’m sorry for being that way about it.” I cut to the point.

“I know what I’m doing, Viv.” He assures me with the inkling of a grin, nudging me gently. “There’s nothing out of your control that you need to be freakin’ out over. I’ll be fine.”

I glance at the stash of cocaine I just discovered and he follows my line of sight, frowning slightly.

Before he can say anything, Nikki’s grabbing the bottle and putting it back where I got it.

He looks at me, not saying a word, but he doesn’t have to speak in order for me to hear him loud and clear: “don’t say a fuckin’ thing about it.”

So I don’t.

I would continue to get that look throughout our relationship. Anytime he even sensed I was about to advise against doing anything vice-related, I would get that look.

“Don’t say a fuckin’ thing”, “Don’t piss on our fuckin’ parade”, “Don’t ruin the party”, “Don’t start this shit, Vivian”, were all said with one glint in his seemingly dead, hazel eyes, and a very slight twitch of an eyebrow, matched with the clenching and unclenching of his jaw.

I, surprisingly, wouldn’t argue with him. I don’t know if it’s because I was afraid of what would happen if he were to lose his temper in an altered state of mind, or if me trying to control his addictions would be the thing that would make him leave me, but I became very good at keeping my mouth shut and not saying a fuckin’ thing.

Vince soon returns with the over the counter pain killers and a zip lock bag filled with ice, and I raise a brow at the make-shift ice pack when he holds it out to me while I’m sitting on the counter, talking to Tommy.

“Lady at the register said get ice on it and we don’t have any so I had to borrow some from some lady in the building next door.” He explains. “And it took a lot of flirting to get it.”

“Oh.” I take it, putting my aching fingers under it. “Thank you, Vince, I appreciate it.” I add and he smirks.

“You can pay me back, ya know.” He raises his brows and I nod.

“If I ever have a spur of the moment thing where I want to do something incredibly stupid that will completely confuse me and screw me over, I’ll let you know when and where.” I assure him and he winks, handing me the bottle of medicine before stepping to his bedroom.

I notice the clock on the wall, seemingly out of place with the rest of the crappy interior, it’s the cleanest thing in here.

It’s nearly nine o’clock, and I need to get home, not to mention the boys are about to head out for a night on the town anyway.

I hop off the counter, reaching for my keys, but Tommy stops me.

“Tommy, I have to get home.” I tell him.

“Just call and tell them you’re staying with Tansy or something and crash here.” He suggests. “I haven’t seen you in a month and I missed you.”

I think about it, knowing my parents will probably ask questions whether I get home tonight or not. I wouldn’t have another opportunity to stay with guys until I move out, anyway, and what my parents don’t know won’t hurt them.

He gives me those pretty brown eyes, begging silently like a puppy, and I sigh, thanking God my parents didn’t go to church and see me leaving with Nikki. Maybe there’s a reason they happened to get sick with allergies this particular weekend.

“Where’s your phone?”

In every part of my being, something was screaming at me to just go home. Looking back with 20/20 vision, perhaps that nagging feeling was the God I prayed to, trying to keep me from what was inevitably bound to become my only and most lethal vice.

The Devil works hard, after all.

#nikki sixx #vince neil #tommy lee #mötley crüe #douglas booth #daniel webber #colson baker #the dirt #the dirt movie

[primal-screamer-blog1]

#motley crue #the dirt #nikki sixx #fan fiction #fanfic #fan fic #motley crue fan fiction #motleycruefanfiction #douglas booth #tommy lee #mick mars #vince neil #colson baker #mgk #machine gun kelly #iwan rheon #daniel webber #80s #80s metal

[primal-screamer-blog1]

Rating: Mature Pairing: Nikki Sixx/F. OC Playlist Here Description: Growing restless in his discontent, Nikki Sixx is plagued with past anxieties that he never could find the courage to confront. He’d seen and done it all but when it came to Ruby Moon, he’d always felt he had unfinished business. Now, years after their tumultuous relationship had seemingly come to an end, Nikki finds himself compulsively recounting memories and asking questions only she would have the answers to. ***Warnings: mature themes, sexual themes, descriptions of sexual encounters, alcohol, drug use, violence, cursing **THIS IS A REPOST OF CHAPTER THREE. NOT A NEW CHAPTER**LINK SHOULD WORK NOW** Prologue Chapter One: Red When I See You Chapter Two: Attention, Affection Chapter Three: Think About What You Know Author’s Notes: This chapter features just about EVERYONE, even if only they’re there for a lil bit; Nikki, Tommy, Vince, Mick, Douglas Booth, Colson Baker, Iwan Rheon, Daniel Webber and I even managed to get Pete Davidson in there. This one was A LOT of fun to write cos of that. Hope you guys like it xo

2018 Nikki was always amazed when all it took was a strong iced Americano to bring him to life these days. The caffeine didn’t kick in until his car pulled up to the movie set that day, so any of the sweeping cliffside views the driver took him past were nothing but a sun bleached blur.  He would’ve been happy to make the drive himself every day but he wasn’t going to miss the chance to get paid to sleep in another 45 minutes.  He tipped the driver $50 like he always did and pulled down his aviators, stepping out onto the unusually brisk Hollywood film lot.  From there, a golf cart pulled up to take him from the lot to the production building. From the time he left his mother’s house as a teenager, he hated doing things half assed.  Even if he didn’t entirely know what he was doing, he only ever wanted to do the best job he possibly could.  So after only getting two hours sleep, he was also beating himself up for staying in front of his computer monitor until four AM.   He had come up with some killer lyrics though. He wasn’t quite ready for Douglas’ sunny disposition so early in the morning. At the catering table, the blonde English boy was far too excited to see him in the state he was in.   Actors,  he thought.  All morning people.   Thankfully, Douglas hadn’t gone through hair and make up yet, so Nikki at least didn’t have to deal with an identity crisis. “So Colson and I were together last night and I think we’ve finally figured out how to play Livewire. At the same time, I mean.” Douglas told him, shoving a bagel into his mouth. “Yeah?” Nikki dropped a spoonful of sugar into his second coffee.  “Good thing.  You’re filming that part today, right?” “Yeah, yeah.  Really excited to show you what we’ve got.  Just hope I can stay awake through it.  We were up all night to get it right.” “Parallel lives.  Having fucking nightmares.” Nikki grumbled, fixing his fingers into a gun shape and putting it to his head. Douglas frowned and made a sort of sympathetic noise. Nikki walked away, hoping that would be enough to communicate his mood.  He was feeling anxious.  Since waking up the night before, he hadn’t been able to stop looking over his shoulder or grabbing at his throat.  There was a production meeting he was supposed to be at while the actors went into hair and makeup.  Nikki couldn’t do much but stand outside smoking cigarettes.   He decided to head down to set instead. Behind the five industrial film cameras and light kits, a replica of the apartment he shared with Vince and Tommy decades ago was built up on the back wall.  On a light board of design sketches, a photo of the real thing was taped to the very top.  He looked at it before taking it and shoving it in his pocket. Just like in his old apartment, the mock living room was bare except for one beat up leather couch.  The set design crew found one already broken in at a thrift store.  They’d done a good job; he walked across the carpet that the production assistant stained with dirt and cigarettes. Falling back onto the couch, he looked up at the high ceilings, wired up with spotlights that they hadn’t turned on yet.  Watching dust filter down through the beams, he wondered how he managed to come so far from this dingy, dirty apartment.  He thought about one of his many couches at home - designer, Italian leather sofas from big ticket furniture sets.  He thought about the marble countertops, the four cars in the garage, the home studio, the built in pool, peacocks at his wedding.  He pulled the photograph out of the pocket of his blazer, looking back at the mirror image of the room he was in. He wondered when he started needing so much to be happy. He heard footsteps slap across the concrete house floor and immediately sat up.  He pocketed the photo again and got up to find Tommy coming around the corner, nearly crashing into him. “Slow down, dude.” Tommy steadied him with one hand, his coffee in the other.  Nikki caught his breath, not feeling any less paranoid.  “Fuck, you freaked me out, man.” “Gettin’ in your feelings about it all finally?” Tommy asked, walking past him and towards a pair of monogrammed folding chairs.  “What? Were you feeling all nostalgic too?” Nikki joined him in the seat emblazoned  Mr. Nikki Sixx  , almost resenting the moniker. He didn’t change his name so people could call him something stuffy like mister, after all. “How could you  not  , dude? I mean look at it.” Tommy gestured to the set and Nikki stared at it again.  With Tommy beside him, his friends familiar voice in his ear, he had a hard time believing they weren’t time traveling.   “Is it just the most bizarre fucking thing you’ve ever seen?” “I just did my own makeup on someone else’s face, dude.  Don’t talk to me about bizarre.” He laughed.   Nikki was thankful he still had Tommy to continue experiencing all of this with.  Tommy was a fantastic co-pilot to the near mythic lives they’d led, especially for Nikki, who was often prone to fits of paranoia and dread.  It was grounding and at times life saving to have Tommy’s sense of humor highlighting the absurdity of all things. Even when he wasn’t around, he’d known Tommy long enough that when things got tough, he could always count on his best friend to show him a way out. “I been having nightmares about it.” “For real?” “For real, man.” “Like what? Overdose dreams?” “No.” Nikki widened his eyes. “God, no. I actually haven’t had one of those I forever. I um…I had a dream about Ruby.  And the ambulance and….I dunno, it was all really weird. It’s been freaking me out all fucking day.” “Fuck.” “She broke into my house.  And she choked me.”   “Sounds more like a wet dream.” Tommy laughed. “Oh, shut the fuck up.” “When’s the last time you guys even talked?” Nikki sighed.  “Years ago?  Before I married Courtney.” “Never after you married Courtney?” “Never after.” Tommy took a pause. “…can you blame her?” “Not at all.  And that’s the cruel irony, man!  I don’t think I ever really understood what Ruby wanted until….way too fucking late. The last conversation we had, I just remember feeling really fucking stupid.  Tommy, I’m being  haunted   by the ghost of my own idiocy.” “Why don’t you just call her, man?” “And say what?  ‘Hey, I know it’s been years of silence but I had a fucking nightmare about you murdering me and thought now was a good time to unburden my soul.’  No way.” “You could just say hey.  I think it’d make both of you feel a ton better.” “What’d you mean both of us? No way she wants to hear from  me   ever again.” “I think she would really like it if you called, dude.  She’s been pretty fucking weirded out about the movie, too. Would probably make her feel better to talk to you about it all. I think it has a lot of people feelin’ a type of way. Bringing up memories and all that.” “How do you know?” “That’s one of my best friends too, Sikki Nixx.” Tommy poked him hard in the shoulder. “Sikki Nixx!” Nikki exclaimed, remembering the name they had given his fame driven, strung out alter ego decades ago. The one that still lived deep down, crawling and craving attention and acceptance to the point of self destruction, to the point of self loathing.  He still felt it creeping up, even in the throes of all this progress. With the movie, his marriage, his other music projects, his photography, his radio show and the play he was writing, he was using it all to run from the past.   He was thankful for Tommy. Normally, he didn’t like to talk to Tommy about Ruby. Tommy knew too much about their relationship for Nikki to be comfortable with.  He’d seen it all since day one. Ruby and Tommy also had their own history, completely separate from Nikki that he never really wanted to know the details of.  He had suspicions about infidelities that were later disproven but it never eased his mind.  For self preservation, he chose not to think about it for a very long time.  Now, with all of their lives standing so far apart, he couldn’t find the room to care.  He’d done enough emotional damage to both Tommy and Ruby that he was happy to call it even and forget about it.  Nothing happened.  He knew it.  Any paranoia he harbored was a reflection of his own indiscretions.  He’d rather just say sorry and talk to his friends again. “I’m inviting Heather and Pam to the premiere.” Nikki let out a laugh.  “Are you serious?” “Hell yeah.  Dude, Heather is  in  it.  Pam’s my baby momma.  Of course I’m inviting them.” “You don’t think either of them are gonna have a problem with that?” “Pammy definitely will.” Tommy grinned. “That’s why I love her, though. Always causin’ a fuss over me.” “You think I should invite Ruby?” Tommy considered it for a moment. “I think you should definitely call her.” He nodded.  “I think it’d be weirder if she wasn’t there.  It’s actually kind of strange that almost none of the girls are in the movie.” “You think so?” “Yeah.  Yeah, man, we’d be totally dead without all of ‘em.  Groupies, wives, girlfriends, all of ‘em.  Personally, I feel kind of dirty about it.  In like….a bad way.  I dunno.  I guess it’d take up too much time.”   “There’s a lot of people left out, to be honest.”  Tommy watched the wheels in Nikki’s head begin to turn. It was a look he knew well. “Maybe we could do a follow up documentary. Like about everything the movie leaves out.” “You got time for that, homie?” “God, at this point we’ll be back on tour.” Nikki held his head in his hands.   “Would that really be so bad?” Before they could finish their conversation, Colson and Pete, laughing hysterically, burst through the studio doors. They were in costume, looking nearly identical to what Tommy and Tom Zutaut, their old record producer, used to look like.  Colson had even taken to compulsively spinning a pair of drumsticks in his hand, no matter if they were on or off set.  He was tall and lanky and he had a big mouth.  Makeup had even given him the same tattoos. With the long black wig, Colson could have been Tommy’s clone.  Pete didn’t so much look like Tom Zutaut; he was missing the blonde hair and Tom’s doughier exterior.  However, what he lacked in looks, he more than made up for in mannerisms.  His posture, his cadence, his awkwardness and more than anything, his unassuming coolness - it was all there and it was all Zutaut. Especially in the striped polo. When Colson saw Nikki and Tommy, he spread his wiry, skinny legs and made an exaggerated jerking off motion at them with his water bottle.  “What’s up, you fuckin’ scumbags?” His tongue hung out of his mouth.  He was definitely in character. Pete held back a laugh and rolled his eyes.  “Hey, have either of you guys seen Douglas?” He shouted across the massive room.   “Not since this morning.” Nikki shouted back. “You’re probably to blame for this anyway, Sixx!” Pete told him. “Look at this shit.”  He walked over, taking off the windbreaker he wore over a striped polo.  “He doesn’t get like this until he turns into you, so I’m blaming this on you.” He pointed out multiple burn holes in his jacket.  “Douglas has been throwing lit matches at me and poking me with cigarettes all morning. Look at this shit! It’s ridiculous!” He shook it in front of Nikki and Tommy.  Neither of them could do anything but laugh.  Nikki held his hands out.  “I dunno what to tell you, man.  Looks like he’s really committed to the role.”  Colson walked up behind him, grinning and lighting a cigarette of his own.  “Oh, yeah!  Real fuckin’ funny.  Do you know how mad the wardrobe department is gonna be at  me   for this?”  As Pete vented his frustrations, waving his marred jacket around, Colson snuck up behind him and burned another hole in it. “You’re kidding me!” Colson took off laughing before Pete could begin to chase him around.  “This is all your fault!  I blame both of you!” Pete shouted. Slowly, people started to trickle in, cast and crew.  Iwan and Daniel, followed by their director Jeff Tremaine came in and joined their conversation.  Jeff tried his best to be mad at Colson and Pete but he couldn’t keep himself from laughing and patting himself on the back for the chaos he had created.  “It just feels like Jackass all over again.” He remarked of his last film endeavor.  Douglas arrived looking notably moodier than he did when Nikki saw him earlier. He gripped a bottle of Jack Daniels that the prop master filled with Diet Coke, the strap of his bass guitar pulled across his chest.  He took a deep swig before Pete began berating him.  Nikki couldn’t help but feel like he was watching a memory of his old producer scolding him for destroying a hotel room. “Eat my ass, Pete.  Jeff doesn’t even care!” Douglas argued, using the American accent he developed.  “Shit happens, guys! It’s okay!  We won’t use the jacket.” Jeff reasoned before Pete could say anything else.  Iwan stood on the set floor, watching them argue and tuning his guitar.  Tommy leaned over to Nikki and chuckled.  “Can you fucking believe this?”  Nikki looked over at Daniel who was making an extra in tight bike shorts and a leather bra laugh.  Everything was exactly how it used to be. Nikki felt a strange pang of sadness in his chest.  “Not at all.” He admitted. “Quiet on the set!” The rest of the day moved quickly.  The boys ran through Livewire one time for Nikki and Tommy before filming.  They played it loud and fast, Douglas prowling low on his bass while Daniel nearly convulsed on the microphone.  It took Nikki and Tommy everything they had to not jump to their feet in applause.  Mick and Vince both stopped by later in the day at separate times, both taking time to approve production choices, comment on test footage and sign off on the apparently endless paperwork involved in being subject to a biopic.  Mick stuck around during their lunch break - a half hour of undisturbed time on the lot - where he played an acoustic guitar.  Colson’s daughter stopped by for lunch too and afterwards, Tommy showed him how to smoke through his nostrils. It was a good day and by the end of it, Nikki had almost completely forgotten his emotional apparitions.  But once he was back in the car and going to his house, he felt it again.  Even though he took no time to look at it, he asked the driver to take the long, scenic route.  He wasn’t quite ready to go home yet. He took out his cellphone and went back and forth on his social media accounts and avoided his text messages.  After he ran out of comments and messages to respond to, he texted his daughter Storm that he missed her and turned the screen off.  He looked out the window for just a moment and saw the ocean stretch out beyond the cliffs they drove along, the sunset glittering across endless blue waves. He closed his eyes, knowing he had to deal with what he and Tommy talked about.  He asked the driver to put on some music to soothe his frustrations. Stevie Nicks, witch that she was, obliged. Step into the velvet of the morning, Let yourself lay back within your dreams. Take on the situation but not the torment. Now you know it’s not as bad as it seems. Well I know you’d like to come away, But baby you can’t come. Your fortune is your life’s love. Oh, and anytime you think about leaving, Think about what you know. Well think about it, Think about it before you go And the heart says danger,And the heart says “Whatever it is what you want from me, I am just one small part Of forever.” Falling star, catcher. Even when you feel like your life is fading, I know that you’ll go on forever, you’re that good. Heartbreak of the moment is not endless, Now your fortune is your life’s love. Well honey, I know you’d like to come away. But baby you can’t come. Your fortune is your life’s love. Whoa and anytime you think about leaving, Think about what you know. Well think about it, Think about it before you go.   He almost laughed. He took out his phone again and scrolled through his contacts list.  He had to dig for it - he kept it in an archived list in his backup data. He rolled his eyes. You fucking drama queen, he thought to himself.  When it uploaded, he scrolled again.  Names of ex girlfriends, ex managers, ex friends.  So many people; a history of others experiences with him.  And then, standing out among all of them with one Japanese character, there it was. For some reason, he was surprised when he found it.  It just seemed too easy.   Ruby Moon 月 Just there in his old contacts list.  Right where he left her. The legendary proportion he created of this moment seemed to fade. He felt silly and then immediately after, he hit another wall.  He tapped “Compose Message.” Their last set of text messages were still there.  He immediately erased them, not even bothering to check the date. He wasn’t about to go down that path.  He wanted to start new.  A clean slate.   She’s heard that one before, his inner monologue cruelly reminded him.  He shook it off.   Shut the fuck up, you self absorbed dick.     He began typing. Ruby.  I can’t tell you how sorry I am that it’s been so long.  I never wanted things to be this way and for my part in that, I am deeply apologetic. I know it might seem silly to to you, but I find myself   He read it back to himself, not sure where to go from there. He found himself, what? It sounded stiff. He erased it, trying a different approach.  Maybe a lighter tone.   Hello, Ruby.  I just got off the set of our movie and couldn’t help but find myself thinking of the past.  Naturally, I thought of you. Memories of you sometimes hurt but “Ugh.” He groaned. He had no idea how to go about this. He went back to scrolling through his social media before reminding himself he was procrastinating. What could he possibly say after all these years that would justify the silence?  What could he say that could justify breaking it? “You could just say hey.” He remembered what Tommy told him.  He was right. Nikki, once again, found himself being selfish and indulging in his own self doubt.  He was done with that. If he wanted a clean slate, he’d have to act like it.  What could he say to end the years of silence between him and the woman he once thought he’d spend the rest of his life with? Hey.

#chapter three repost #motley crue #nikki sixx #fan fiction #fanfic