#THE KEY IS TO SAY. AND REPEAT AFTER ME. 'FUUUCK IT WE BALL | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xxisxxisxxis · 3 years

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Deleted Scene: Gateway Drug | "Ode to Bullet Trains and Arrestation" -- 1987

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"What the hell happened?" I ask Fred as I walk through the lobby to the elevator of the hotel.

"Just a dumb fight that got thrown out of proportion and Nikki snapped," He explains. "They spent, like, five hours tops in jail until they were let go." He adds. "And Nikki's still asleep so--"

"--Where's the copy of his key?" I ask him once the elevator doors open and he mashes the button of the floor they're on.

"...Vivian, I don't know if--"

"Where is the key?" I ask him and he hesitates for a moment before digging in his pocket.

"Don't go starting shit with him, Viv, I'm serious." He states and I roll my eyes as the doors open, and I look on the key chain to see what room he's in. "Sixx, I'm serious," he calls as I walk down the hall.

"If he's man enough to be big and bad and scare the shit out of complete strangers and embarrass me some more then he's man enough to get his ass kicked for it!" I reply.

I'm unlocking the door and immediately, I'm met with a God-awful smell which lets me know he hasn't showered in a long time.

I'm too angry to go throw up in the bathroom, although I'm sure it's worse in there, and I step over empty bottles, dirty clothes, bloody towels, spoons, foil, and empty coke bindles before I'm crawling onto the bed and standing over him, track marks eating away at his pale white skin, dark circles hugging his eyes, an irritable, tense grit of his teeth, even while he sleep he's in a pissy mood…

That makes two of us.

I pat at his face probably harder than I should, the first thing out of my mouth is, "get the fuck up, you bitch," I bark out.

It takes him less than twenty seconds to get awake enough that he realizes he's not dreaming.

"You fucking cunt!" He screams at me, fighting me off of him.

"Oh, I could say the same about you Mr., 'I'm gonna throw a bottle of Jack at one of my friends and hit the bystander next to him instead'!"

"You weren't even fucking there, you don't what the fuck happened!" He shoves me off of him.

"Then what the fuck happened, Nikki?!"

He just rolls his jaw and stares at me with a "go to hell" cut to his eyes.

"What the fuck do you want, Vivian?" He finally gets out, sitting up.

"Doc--"

"--Ohh, fuuuck me." He sneers out, irritated, pulling the covers back and standing up.

"Well, what do you expect him to do, Nikki?!"

"Stay out of my goddamn business, Vivian, that's what I expect him to fucking do--just like I expect you to fucking do." He states, going to the bathroom, leather pants hanging too loosely on his hips.

I glance around the room as I hear him flush the toilet and curse under his breath, hearing the sound of him splashing water on his face.

"I'm well aware what you do isn't my business, Nikki. Trust me, I know it isn't. I know you'd rather die than tell me anything you do or who you do it with or--"

"--You flew all the way to Japan to fucking fight with me over something you weren't even here to be bothered by?" He rhetorically snaps.

"I was bothered by it, Nikki, because the shit you do here gets back to L.A., and people talk about it and it reflects badly on me."

"So you're not here because you care about me or you're worried about me, you're here because you're being embarrassed by bad Nikki's actions. Oh, how terrible!"

I head to the bathroom, my hand balled up in a fist and when he sees me about to hit him he grabs my hair, making me wince.

"Hit me." He tells me, daring me to.

I decide it's not a good idea.

"That's what I thought." He lets go of my hair.

I watch him for a second and wrinkle my nose.

"You need a shower." I say to him. "And you need to brush your teeth."

"You need to go back to L.A." he mumbles.

"No." I say back as he picks up a razor to shave his stubble. "Don't shave yet, I like it." I reach for the razor and he glares at me.

"Not like you're benefiting off of liking it anymore, Miss, 'I refuse to even let my own husband touch me'." He scoffs.

"Because you don't want to touch me. You're always saying and doing mean shit to me." I argue.

"Fuck you."

"Get a shower." I roll my eyes and slam the bathroom door.

I get all of his gross, slimy clothes in a corner and clean up all the towels before I get rid of the empty drug bindles and baggies, spoons, and needles.

When he gets out, I'm glancing at him as he looks like a drown rat.

"We're going to my room." I tell him, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"No, I'm not." He argues.

"Nikki, it smells like utter shit and ball sweat in this room and it's disgusting. I'm not letting you stay in here like this."

***I didn't know how he was going to argue with me over that when he knew it was true. He just glared at me and probably thought about running me over, but I didn't care. I wasn't leaving him by himself and I wasn't staying in that room.***

I crawl into the bed in my room that Doc got for me and let out a soft sigh, turning over to face Nikki.

I can't help but stare at him, seeing the faintest outline of his fingers coming up to rub his eye for a moment before falling back above his head.

I get a little closer to him, feeling him tense up slightly beside me.

"Don't do it." He says abrasively, and I get even closer, my leg slithering across his front until I'm straddling him, his lungs pushing out a sharp sigh as I ask, "do what?"

"You know what." He replies.

"I do?"

I run my thumb across his cracked lips, my own lips pressing to his stubbled cheek.

"Vivian."

"You love me." I tell him quietly, bringing up his drunk phone calls to me, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah." He doesn't deny it, his tone as if he knows he's in deep, now.

"Yeah." I repeat it.

His hands run up my back, I can feel the scabs on his arms rub against my bare skin as he wraps his arms around me, and the feeling sends a clammy sickness to my stomach as his hand tangles in the hair at the nape of my neck.

"Do you really?" I ask him softly, the tip of my nose brushing against his.

"Yeah," he repeats, swallowing thickly his other hand coming up to brush hair from my face before guiding my lips down to his.

It's chaste—possibly because he doesn't have the will or the energy to kiss in a way that's going to result in us fucking the life out of each other being that he's already over half-way there by the looks of it.

"Can you call Bob for me?" I test it out, deciding I've gotten him where I want him the best to my ability to propose to go back to rehab.

Our facade shatters.

I see his face twist in the dark of the room that's only light by the city lights and the light from the smoke detector in the corner.

Next thing I know, we're both on the floor, his hand around my throat, his thigh between my legs as he hovers over me.

"You think you're gonna fuck me into handing my balls over and going to rehab?!" He snarls like a mad dog and I grab his wrist, breathing as best as I can.

He's not choking me out, I can still get some air in, but not much. I know he's trying to prove a point, but after actually strangling me a few weeks ago, it's not bringing back good memories.

"Nikki, just—"

"—You didn't come here to check on me. You came here to try to manipulate me into going to rehab after I called you fucked up on smack and told you some bullshit in hopes of having a chance at getting my dick wet with you before we split for good." He throws down at me.

"Really sounded like it." I smart back, chuckling, feeling his hand shaking with anger, but his grip doesn't get harder.

"Fuck you."

"You're too sick to, asshole." I argue. "Not that anyone could pay me enough to fuck you right now with how bad you look."

"Oh, please, Vivian, your easy pussy's probably slicker than oil by now given our position." He bites back.

"Wanna check?" I ask.

He shoves off of me, going on about how "fucked up" and "sick" I am.

Pot calling kettle black.

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