Vince is in the corridor
when the suite door opens, and so he sees the kid.
Hes seen them before. And
this one would be no different. The kid is about twenty years old, as usual. Wearing jeans and an old t-shirt, as usual. Slim, rather
short and pretty as usual. And peroxide bleached. Suicide
blonde.
As usual.
Vince knows the kind of dye
he must be using, can tell it from first sight, he remembers using it, and it
doesnt surprise him. It doesnt surprise him to see a blonde kid sneaking out
of Nikkis hotel suite at three in the morning, either.
What surprises him is that
the kid is holding a few bills in his hands, staring at them, almost stumbling
over his own toes. Not seeing anything else. Looking utterly
astonished.
This is not as usual. Not
usual at all.
Hey.
The kid winces when Vinces
hand falls on his shoulder, starts, with an almost violent shudder, and doesnt
say a word when Vince snatches the money out of his fingers. Remains silent,
but his face falls, and he looks so much like a child that Vince begins to
doubt whether hes actually over twenty. But he must be.
Nikki doesnt mess with
underage whores, boys or girls. Not anymore. Having a son thats almost sixteen
must have changed his outlook.
And the moneys big. Too big for a little blond slut who isnt even staying overnight.
Who would pay three thousand bucks for that?
You stole it, Vince says,
and seeing the flicker of fear in the kids eyes, repeats heavily, You stole
it, didnt you. You cocksucker.
No! the kid whispers, and
theres so much desperation in the whisper, Vince almost lets him go. No I
didnt. He gave it to me! All by himself
And maybe it makes sense.
Maybe it isnt so easy to steal anything from Nikki, especially when Nikki
isnt on drugs.
Nikki isnt on drugs, as
surprising as it is. Vince can tell when hes on drugs, would take him just one
look, like telling what dye the kid uses, and Nikki is clean. Had a little
breakdown a while ago, downed a few shots of whisky, but even then he didnt
shoot up, so theres no reason to worry.
And if
so
Vince hands the money back
to the kid, but doesnt let him go. Stares at him. Stares at his face.
What did he do to you,
huh?
Wha?..
What did he do to you that
it took three fucking thousand to cover it up?
And the kid is astonished
again, amazed, as he tells Vince, his voice full of disbelief, Nothing. You know just nothing at all!
It makes no sense. It
totally doesnt make any sense. But its Nikki, its about Nikki, so when it makes
no sense
Maybe, just maybe, it
actually does.
Vince feels tired. Tired, and old, and as if he hasnt slept in days.
You hide that shit, he
tells the kid with a sigh. Hide the fucking money, you dumbfuck.
Its not your Promised Land, its fucking
The kid nods feverishly,
stuffs the money into the back pocket of his jeans, hasty and clumsy, and Vince
lets go of his shoulder, and turns around, banishing the very thought of Nikki
and his money and his whores and anything Nikkis from his mind. Its three
a.m., but they dont have anything in the morning, no press conference, no
signing, no fucking TV show to suffer, and maybe hell have some normal sleep.
Or maybe
not.
A cup of wine for the night
isnt as bad. He fights the urge to call Lia she
wouldnt mind, but God Almighty, its three hours
before dawn and stretches out in his hotel bed, and tries to figure once
again.
Three
thousand from Nikki.
What the fuck for?
---
What the fuck for?
Huh?
Three piece. You gave that
kid three piece bucks. Im just being curious, but still.
And theres silence.
Nikki doesnt like to talk
much. Not unless theres some reporter around, or someone asks him about his
songs, or something. Then, at times, he cant shut up. But in everyday life
he doesnt talk much, especially these days. When you start talking about
something, it always leads to you talking about something else, and it could
easily come to talking about things that had better not be even mentioned. And
then he could snap.
Nikki doesnt like to snap,
either. No more, thanks. Its losing control,
snapping and control might be all he has left.
If he still has it.
Hes not so sure of it when
he hears what Vince says, in his friendly laid-back Good Natured Vince voice.
Not so sure, because he might snap just now.
It would be ugly.
They are alone here, on a
big stage huge stage, to accommodate their show and Aerosmiths,
the stage just has to be huge. Theres still a couple of hours left before the soundcheck, and Nikki came here to stay alone for a while,
but he never had the chance, because Vince was already there so strange for
him, to get anywhere at all so early, but Nikki didnt question that. He wasnt
sure if he felt irritated or relieved.
He still isnt sure as they
sit there on top of dead, unpowered amps, but right
now irritation might be a little closer.
What kid? he asks dully,
but its just playing for time, and Vince rolls his eyes with a sigh.
His face, his eyes, his
body language they are really the same. Never changed, for
as long as Nikki knows him. Which is so ungodly long,
it makes Nikki feel like an old fuck just to think of all that time. Its
funny, though because he is an old fuck, but Vince isnt. Or Nikki could
never think of him that way. Maybe its because hes so used to him. To his body language, his eyes and his face. And his voice. At times its easier for him to see that than
to pay attention to whatever has changed. Beer belly, wrinkles,
stubble. Its there, and its not there, and its all in the eye of the
beholder. When he says in an interview that Vince isnt any different,
reporters think hes being diplomatic.
As if he ever knew what
diplomacy is.
Vince isnt any different,
because the things that make him Vince they never change.
What, are you fucking
monitoring me, Neil?
Dont call me that.
The question still
stands.
Vince yawns. Looks away. Dangles his feet.
Maybe, he says suddenly.
Maybe I am. Maybe Im curious to know what you do to those guys when you
manage to convince yourself that theyre me, and that Im in mid-twenties
again. You know, such a self-indulging curiosity.
No shock. Of course he
knows. Nikki knows he knows, and Vince knows that Nikki knows he knows, and you
could make it into an endless tongue-twister, because hell, who doesnt know?
Well, the press doesnt. Which is good.
Maybe.
Okay, Nikki says with a
grin. Okay. Found out anything?
Hardly, Vince snickers.
Its different all the time. All I know is you sure wouldnt kick me out of
your bedroom with a three-piece in my hand, all for nothing. And so it makes me
wonder.
Oh, I wouldnt, Nikki thinks, looking at his smirk. I
wouldnt. And what I would do
I wont ever tell you.
Putting it into words will make me
Snap.
The kid, he says aloud,
was a newbie. Or so he said. Been pushed into this business
because of debts.
And you believed him.
Well, yeah. I mean, if he
was lying and put up a show talented enough to convince me, I say he earned
those three thousand anyway.
I knew you signed up for
charity, but I never knew itd gotten that far, dude.
Oh, come on. Three
thousand bucks you could lose twice as much gambling the same night.
Vince laughs. Yeah, right. Got me.
So. I dont gamble. Nikki sighs,
turning away. You could say it was my bet. Laid a bet on
that kid. Some kind of game.
Yeah?
Yeah. Lots of factors.
Whether he told me the truth whether he manages to get home without losing the
money whether he manages to get done with his debts without his pimp fucking
him over one hell of a game. And Im never gonna
know if I won or lost.
So whats the sense of it
all? Vince wonders quietly. Nikki turns to look at him. Feels
an urge to touch his hair. To play with it.
Were they back in the eighties, he would. He was too doped to give a damn back
then. And Vince would freak out at times, but back then, he was often too drunk
to care, so mostly he didnt give a damn either. Some things used to be easier.
Definitely.
And that,
Nikki thinks, is the only difference. The
only thing that makes me want to turn back time.
Its not because I wish you were young again, Vinnie.
I wish I were.
The sense of it all, he
tells Vince, resting his elbows on his knees and hunching forward, is faith.
Vince doesnt say anything
for a while.
I think I understand, he
says then with a nod.
I think you dont, Nikki thinks, but he doesnt say it aloud. Theres no need to.
Wanna
cigarette?
Yeah.
You spend too much time
alone, Vince says, putting a cigarette between his teeth. Its getting
spooky. If you dont want to party with Tommy anymore, lets go out and get
drunk tonight. On the town. Come on, one night wont
kill you.
Why would you care if it
does?
Vince gives him a long
stare. A weird stare.
I just do, he says. I
wouldnt want to lose the only person who still genuinely wants me, yknow? Would be bad for my ego.
That from a man whos in
girls all over. Even though hes kind of married.
Yep, right, Vince gives a
half-smile, and it takes Nikki aback, shocks him, and he doesnt even know why.
It takes him a few seconds to put a finger on it: Vince smiles like him. God, Nikki thinks, but its scary. I never knew it looked so scary.
Right, Vince repeats,
The girls. They hunt, yeah? The bigger the beast the better
the trophy. More to feed on.
And its so strange to hear
it from him. And Nikki is suddenly shivering, because he knows that no-one else
would ever hear that from Vince.
Long-lived lust, even not
shared, forms bonds. And those bonds are tight.
Maybe,
even tighter than love.
Or, maybe, when lust lives
that long, it is love.
Who knows.
If you really could get
back, though, Vince says suddenly, with unexpected determination, if you really
could get back you know, to those old times would you change anything?
Id fuck you, Nikki tells
him, and hes only half-joking. Id wait til you were passed out on something
and just fuck you, and youd never even know. And I wouldnt be sitting here
now like a fool and regretting that I never did it.
Vince laughs.
Dude, Id have killed
you.
Bah. Youd have never
found out. With a dick like mine, you wouldnt have even noticed youd been
done.
You know what, Vince says
with a smile, a normal Vince smile, youre the only guy I know who doesnt
sound bitter when he tells a joke like that.
Nikki shrugs.
Theres more silence.
Wanna
know something?
Maybe.
Vince looks down at his
hands. And says, without ever looking up, If I could get back there and be
young again Id let you do it when you asked. Maybe then I wouldnt be sitting
here now like a fool and regretting that I never found out what it felt like. Because maybe just maybe it would have felt right.
And Nikki, speechless and suddenly
lost, somehow doesnt think Vince means anything sexual when he says right.
To look at Vince, he
doesnt think so either.
It wouldnt have been
good, Nikki says finally. I was too wild back then. Too
rushed. Too stupid. So I dont think you missed
anything.
Fuck that, Sixx. Here and
now, who can tell?
I can, Nikki tells him.
I can. But Vince what if
He never finishes the
question, but Vince understands. Shoots him an astonished
look. And all of a sudden turns away almost shyly. A sight of the century, a shy Vince Neil, Nikki thinks and smiles.
And the smile, wide and almost pretty, isnt a normal Nikki smile. But he
wouldnt care even if he could see it.
Vince and Nikki sit there
on silent amps and dont talk anymore, but the question, though unasked, is
there, and there must be an answer.
And theres a maybe in the air. And for the first time
in years, this maybe tastes not of
doubt, but of hope.