#he's no saint but if we're gonna start comparing the friends he's not the worst one

[iguessitsjustme]

Atom: You nailed and bailed me!

Boston: That is literally what you asked me to do.

Atom:

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Sixty-Five

A/N: If you didn't see my post yesterday, I decide to break this chapter into 2 chapters. The preview for this chapter is included in the next chapter.

Words: 3.7k

Warning(s): Explicit language, mentions of drug abuse

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I blink my eyes open to see Izzy standing over me, my brows furrowing at the sight of him, confusion filing into my mind.

“Izzy.” I croak out, closing my eyes again for a moment.

“Viv.” He replies.

"What're you doing here?" I groan, tiredly.

"A girl I hooked up with last night lives in this neighborhood." He tells me. "Karen let me in."

“Of course she did.” I mumble, sitting up with another groan, and he sits on the floor next to me, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket, lighting it.

“So, like, what happened?” He asks me, looking around at the shithole mess I made last night and I lick my cracked lips, feeling the tightness of dried, mascara coated tears that have glued to my face, and let out an exhausted breath.

“You ever walk into your house and wonder ‘exactly how many surfaces did my husband and his mistress possibly have sex on’?”

“Nope.” He replies, blowing out smoke, and I glance at him.

“Well, that’s what happened.” I reply, sighing. “I thought I was doing good, Izzy. I really thought we were getting better. And we weren’t. It was all bullshit.”

“Trust me, Viv, I’ve fucking been there.” He mumbles.

“I gave her a key to my house.” I repeat what I told him earlier and he looks at me for a moment, looking as if he doesn’t quite know what to say. “I might as well have just handed him over to her and said, ‘he’s yours, have at it’.” I add, letting out a chuckle, although it’s not funny. “I’m not like her. I act nothing like her. I haven’t accomplished as much as she has. I’m not established like she is. I look nothing like her--”

“--She’s a ten but the drugs make her a five. And her being batshit crazy knocks her down to a solid two...on a good day. You’re a ten. Your niceness adds two points, your patience adds two more points, and your crazy is hot, which adds five more points. So technically you’re a seventeen. Don’t compare yourself to a fucking crack addict when there’s barely anything left of her to compare to.” He orders sternly, and I push a strand of hair behind my ear. “And the only thing she can say she’s got on you, is screwing your husband, and she brags about it because strung out Nikki Sixx is obviously a prize.” He sarcastically states and I smile a little. “He didn’t cheat because you weren’t enough, Viv. He cheated because he’s fucking stupid and the drugs just add to it. I assure you, if you were ugly or something, none of us would wanna fuck you. But we do.”

“Gee, thanks, Izzy.” I flatly say, furrowing my brows slightly, and he nudges me with his elbow.

“You’re a seventeen.” He reassures me, smiling.

“See, this is what I would’ve appreciated hearing the other night.” I inform him.

“I was an ass the other night.” He admits. “I’m sorry for yelling at you...and there’s nothing wrong with you not picking up on our hints that something was wrong. You just see the best in people sometimes when they’re fucking shitty, is all.”

“Trust me I’ve learned my lesson.” I scoff.

“No, don’t let this bullshit ruin a good thing. You can still see the good in people and try to be positive about them, just use a little discernment from now on.” He shrugs and I wipe my eyes as he takes another drag of his cigarette.

“Did we just have a moment, Izzy?” I ask, and he furrows his brows and looks at me.

“No.”

“I think we did.”

“No, we didn’t.”

“I think we did. I think we just got a little closer in our friendship.”

“Nope, I don’t think so.”

“We did.”

“We didn’t.”

“I love you and I’m glad we’re friends.”

He just looks at me, trying not to smile, before getting a serious look on his face.

“It’ll be okay, Viv.” He assures me, genuinely, and I nod.

“I know it will be, I’m just kinda scared to go through the hell I’m gonna need to go through in order to get to the ‘it’s okay now’ part.”

“I know you are.” He tells me, exhaling more smoke. “I know you are.” 

That’s the thing about Izzy: a raging jackass when he wants to be, and quiet for the most part, but when he gets serious about something, it’s genuine and hard to ever forget.

Once Izzy decides to go home, I’m staring at the letter from Playboy, eyeing the number left at the bottom of the page for their project manager.

“Just call and see what they say.” I tell myself, taking a deep breath, my palms starting to sweat.

I dial the number and it rings a few times before someone picks up.

“Playboy Enterprises, this is Erika.”

I convince myself to calm down and ease the nerves bunching in my stomach before I reply.

“Y-Yes, this is Vivian Sixx. I got a letter from you guys?”

“Yes, they’ve been hoping you would call. Give me a moment and I’ll transfer your call to our PM.” She tells me.

“Okay, thank you.”

I wait for a moment as the line cuts out, before it cuts back in again.

“Mrs. Sixx?” Another woman’s voice greets me.

“Yes?”

“This is Danielle Wyther, I’m the one that sent you the letter.” She explains.

“Oh.”

“I take it you’ve made your decision.” She says next and I let out a little sigh, hesitantly giving an answer.

“I’m not comfortable doing full nudity--I mean, I don’t have an issue being nude but, like, I want the important parts covered.” I’m saying before I can stop myself, and I furrow my brows and mouth “what the fuck” to myself for being so blunt.

“...We didn’t expect anything different from you, Vivian, no worries.” She tells me and I let out a relieved breath. “We’ve already prepared for more tasteful photos.”

She goes on to tell me when I need to meet with her to sign my contract of payment and a temporary NDA ensuring I won’t let it out to the public I’m posing until they decide to announce it themselves, and then we go over when I need to come to Chicago to shoot.

Once a date is set to meet, and for the photoshoot itself, we hang up and I turn around to see Karen holding a cup of coffee, wearing her bedroom shoes due to the glass on the floor that I need to clean up.

“You didn’t hear that.” I tell her.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” She replies, obviously knowing what I’m talking about, but clearly not in a hurry to tell Nikki about it.

She just raises her brows and takes a sip of her coffee, minding her own business. 

After breakfast, I try to clean up the best I can, not even necessarily wanting to go to my room to grab a change of clothes and shower once I'm done, but I do. 

I'll just leave our room a shitshow for him since we're coming back for a five day break in like a week anyway. 

I shower and change clothes, grabbing my car keys.

"Where are you going?" Karen asks me.

"To see Sharise and Sky, and then I’m going out with the guys before I get home.” I tell her.

“Alright, be careful.”

“I will.”

I knew Karen wouldn’t say a thing to Nikki about Playboy, and she honestly never said a thing to me about it...but I could tell she didn’t necessarily agree with my decision, because nobody really agreed with it, they tolerated it.

In all honesty they all thought I had lost my mind, finally, because I was Vivian. Goody-goody, Christianly, worst-thing-ever-done-was-marry-someone-my-mother-didn’t-approve-of, Saint Vivian.

“Yes, I’m sure about it, Sharise.” I tell her, Skylar sticking a unicorn sticker to my face, making me smile at her as Sharise raises her brows at me.

“But you’ll be n-a-k-e-d.” She spells out so Skylar won’t catch on. “A-s-s and b-o-o-b-s out. For everyone to see.”

“Not really, everything’s gonna be covered.”

“Barely.”

“But still covered, nonetheless.” I argue.

“Do you want me to go with you?” She asks next.

“I wanna go!” Skylar says, looking at her mom, not even knowing where exactly we’re going, but wanting to tag along.

“No, I’ll probably have Duff or Steven go with me.” She tell her and she raises her brows.

“Oh...Duff...okay…”

“What?” I ask, furrowing my brows a little and she holds back a tight-lipped smile, shaking her head and shrugging.

“Nothing, Viv. Nothing at all. It’s just...you know…”

“...What exactly do I know?” I question.

“You know what you know.” She says back, matter-of-fact, and I think a moment before scoffing out.

“Oh, puh-lease, Sharise.” I hold back a bark of laughter.

“You know where I’m getting that idea, too.” She states and I shake my head.

“You are crazy.”

“Am I? You’ve just recently been hurt, you’re vulnerable, you’re confused, he’s available and attractive, and a complete gentleman--”

“--Which is exactly why nothing is happening because he’s not going to take advantage of me right now.” I tell her.

“Right now?” She widens her eyes and I sigh. “Ah, so you admit something’s cooking, it’s just not being served at the table at the moment.”

“It’s being poured down the drain because he’s got his own thing and I’ve got mine and neither of us are like that with each other.”

“He broke up with his ‘thing’ earlier this year and yours was just caught with a crack pipe in one hand, a needle in the other, and another woman’s mouth on his d-i-c-k, which sounds like a justified divorce to me.” She says to me, picking Sky up, and I let out a breath...because she’s right.

“Look, just think before you jump into the deep end. Just because there’s room for you to land, doesn’t mean there aren’t sharks waiting for you to dive in.” She warns me and I just nod slowly, rubbing my lips together.

I stay at Sharise’s for a couple more hours, before I’m meeting Duff at the Whisky because they’re playing a show tonight.

“Thank you.” I say as a girl in the crowded room moves for me to squeeze by her to get backstage with the guys once the show is over.

I crack open the door, seeing Axl in his assless chaps, his hair going all kinds of directions in it’s teased glory, and he smiles widely at me.

“Hey, Viv.” He greets me, and I step in to see everybody else in the room: Slash, Izzy, Stevie, Duff, and...no, no, that’s impossible.

I furrow my brows, my heart stopping in my chest.

“D-Dad?” I ask.

He’s just as shell shocked as I am, until his face is lighting up, tears coming to his eyes, as he nervously steps to me.

“What’re you doing here?” I ask next, realizing I’m about to cry.

I haven’t seen him in four years. We’ve written to each other every once in a while just to check up, but I haven’t seen him or heard his voice in four years.

“I’ve been coming down this part of town the past few nights when I heard you were back home.” He explains to me.

“Why?”

He doesn’t have to answer this, I know why. He heard his daughter’s husband possibly cheated on with her, and the mistress announced it on national television.

“Well, I couldn't really comfort you through a stupid letter.” He says and a tear rolls down my cheek.

“Aww, Dad." My voice cracks and he gives me a big hug.

"And I'll fly to wherever he is and give him a piece of my mind,  just say 'when' and I'll give him a real reason to go crawling to another woman." He states and I laugh, pulling away to wipe my eyes, getting a good, up close look at my dad. 

His hair is already starting to grey, despite only being forty-one, and his brown eyes haven't lost any of their spark that's been in them even since I could remember. 

He wipes my tears, giving me a reassuring smile. 

"I'm okay, Dad." I tell him, sniffling, looking around at the guys before looking back up at him. "How do you even know them?"

Apparently, several months prior, my dad happened to be in the same convenience store as Steven, who he saw was trying to smuggle a bag of Cheetos up his shirt because he couldn’t afford to buy them so my dad gave him a few hundred bucks and when he told Steven his name Stevie remembered my maiden name was “Kinston” and asked my dad if he knew me. It went from there and resulted in my dad checking in on them from time to time, but none of them ever told me because they weren’t ever really sure how I felt about my dad.

After the guys get changed, we’re heading to get some food  at the Rainbow with my dad tagging along.

“After she watched the Wizard of Oz with her aunt, she’d pretend she was the Good Witch of the South and used to get out of her little bubble baths and run through the house, calling herself the ‘Bubble Fairy’, with her mom chasing after her.” My dad tells the guys and I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing he wouldn’t have told the story of the notorious “Bubble Fairy.”

“Dad, they didn’t need to know that.” I say to him, seeing Duff and Slash trying to hide their laughter.

“Oh, it’s not that bad, Viv, you were a toddler.” My dad insists. “It was precious.”

“Yeah, maybe you should recreate it and let us see if it’s just as precious.” Izzy says to aggravate me.

“Hey, watch it.” My dad scolds him and I smile smugly at Izzy.

“Yeah, watch it." I echo and Izzy narrows his eyes at me.

"Whatever you say, Bubble Fairy." He says to me and I'm kicking at him under the table, before I'm looking at my dad again, taking a sip of Pepsi.

"Change of subject, why didn't you just come by the house?" I ask my dad.

"I didn't know if you would've wanted me to, if you were still trying to handle everything." He adds. "I was going to when I heard you had a health scare, but I didn't want to overstep any boundaries."

"Dad, I wouldn't have minded." I assure him, shaking my head a little. 

"Well, how much longer are you going to be in town?" He asks.

"Um, I'm flying out tomorrow for about a week, but we're supposed to be coming back home for a break." I explain. 

"'We're'? He's coming back home with you…is he staying with you?" He questions and I blink a couple times. 

"Well, y-yeah, we're still married, dad, so we're gonna be staying in the same house." I explain. "Especially since his manager thinks it's best if we play it off to the public and the media that the situation was a misunderstanding." 

"How the hell does one 'misunderstand' being engaged to a married man?" He asks, and the guys raise their brows.

"Well--"

"--I'd rip his manager a new one and tell him to use it to let out all the extra shit he's full of." 

My eyes widen, and I'm shocked, because I've never heard my dad this angry. 

"Dad, it's okay. After the tour if we want to file for divorce, we will."

"When is the tour over?"

"Next spring."

"Vivian, do you have any idea how long divorce takes to be finalized?" He asks and I rub my lips together. "If you genuinely want to get divorced, I suggest filing now so you can almost be done with it by the time the tour ends." 

"We've tried. She won't listen." Axl states, lighting a cigarette and I glare at him. 

"I'm weighing my options, dad." I say.

"And what's he doing?" He asks next. 

"Shooting heroin and screwing groupies." Axl interjects again.

"Axl." I snap. 

"Dude, c'mon." Duff lightly says, not amused with his suggestion. 

"What?" Axl looks at us. "Coming from a dude, infidelity is like cockroaches. For every one you know about, there's a hundred more you don't know about." 

"Dude!" Stevie scolds him, looking at him like he's lost his mind. 

"So we're just gonna pretend there's no chance that Vanity isn't the first chick Nikki's been with in the six years they've been together?" Axl keeps going. 

"I'm going to the bathroom." I mumble, getting out of the booth, trying not to think about the possibility of Nikki cheating with multiple other girls, but knowing it isn't too far-fetched to consider it.

After a couple minutes of wiping tears in the bathroom stall, I hear the door open, and wait to hear the clicking of heels on the tile floor, but instead hear heavy footsteps.

“Viv?” Duff asks and I let out a relieved sigh, sniffling.

“I’m fine.” I say to him, despite it not sounding convincing in the slightest.

“No, you’re not.” He tells me and I roll my eyes, opening the stall, looking up at him.

“I am.”

“There’s no fucking cameras around, you know that right?” He raises his brows and I exhale softly, throwing my wet, snotty tissue in the garbage can, stepping to the mirror to fix my face the best I can.

“I’ve thought of the possibility of him having others.” I admit, wiping the running mascara from my face as he leans against the stall’s fixture and looks at me in the mirror. “I’ve thought about it, and it’s one of my worst fucking fears is hearing this whole time there’s been girls left and right that’s he’s managed to sneak past me. I don’t like it, but I have thought about it. I’m not oblivious to that possibility.”

“I know you aren’t.” He nods.

“But he’s all I’ve known.” I tell him, taking a deep breath. “He’s all I’ve known and he’s all I’ve got and if I look for any more trouble, I’m gonna find it, and I’d rather not repeat this cycle of feeling like the biggest fucking idiot, so if we can just skip the conversation altogether I’d be really appreciative of it.” I state, turning to face him.

“Got it.” He promises. “And Axl doesn’t mean anything by it, Viv, alright? He just misses the mark when it comes to communication.” He shrugs. 

“I suppose.” I sigh out. “I’m sorry, you’re probably tired of me crying.”

“I wish you wouldn’t cry because I don’t like to see it, but I think you have every reason to, right now. I’m just happy you’re not completely losing your shit like I expected you to.” He explains and I raise my brows.

“Define ‘losing your shit’.”

He looks at me with raised brows.

“What did you do?” He asks me, amused.

“It’s not really what I’ve done...more so what I’m going to do.”

“What’re you going to do?”

“...Playboy sent me a letter, offering $40,000 for a cover shoot and interview, and some pictures to go along with it.” I watch as his eyes widen, and he gets an uneasy look on his face.

“Viv, you aren’t, like, the Playboy type, though.” He points out, worriedly.

“Well, no, I’m not, and I know that and they know that, so when I called just decided to do ‘tasteful’ nude shots.”

“‘Tasteful’ by Vivian standards, or ‘tasteful’ by pornographic magazine standards?”

“Vivian standards. Naked, but none of the good stuff is showing.” I state.

“Oh, okay.” He laughs out, nervously. “Are you...sure about it?”

“Well, at first I did it for the money because if Nikki leaves me, I’m not gonna have a penny to my name--”

“--Vivian, if you need money and somewhere to stay if things go to shit, you can just ask me or one of the guys.” He offers, looking like the thought of me posing nude just for money, doesn’t sit right with him because he knows I wouldn’t do it unless I felt I had no other choice.

“You didn’t let me finish.” I tell him, smiling. “But then they said it’d be tasteful and I wouldn’t have to show everything, and now it sounds kinda fun.”

“And what does Nikki think of it?” He asks me an important question and I go to speak, but stop myself, exhaling.

“What Nikki doesn’t know, won’t hurt him.” Is all I can come up with.

“Uh, I think Nikki will know when he sees his wife on the cover of Playboy.” He argues.

“It’s not like I’m gonna be posed on the front with my tits and pussy out, spread eagle for the world to ogle at my anatomy.” I counter and he squeezes his eyes closed, shaking his head a little.

“I didn’t need to picture you like that, Viv.” He says and I feel my cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“Oops, sorry.” I say, rubbing my lips together. “Hey, there is something I need to ask you, though.”

“Yeah?” He replies, looking at me.

“Tomorrow I’m going to their office here in town to sign the paperwork and stuff, and then I’m going to Chicago for the photoshoot, because conveniently enough, Motley Crue will be in Chicago for a few days, and I was wondering if you’d want to come with me.”

He laughs like it’s absurd.

“You are crazy.” He says, in disbelief.  “You are crazy.”

“Duff--”

“--If he finds out I was there with you, Viv, I just--you are crazy.”

“So, you’re not gonna go with me?” I ask him, scared he’s going to say “no” to avoid pissing Nikki off.

But he completely surprises me when he says:

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”