1993

You first met Tommy Lee at a gritty downtown pub about six months ago. The place was packed, loud, smoky—exactly the kind of spot where rock legends and their road crews hang out after a show. You were there with friends, nursing a drink and trying to keep a low profile. Tommy was with a few bandmates, clearly in his element, wild and unapologetic.

When your eyes met across the room, there was a nod, a quick smile exchanged—but no sparks. You were dating someone, and honestly, Tommy’s reputation made you wary. He was literally called a bad boy for the past 10 years. Still, the conversation flowed easily that night. You found his humor unexpected and his energy contagious. Before you knew it, you’d swapped numbers, but nothing more than casual calls followed. But he was Tommy Lee after all.

He was whipped for you— good enough to hide it, but still made his tries on hitting on you whenever he had the chance. And you? You started to fall for him. Maybe a little. Just a little. And Tommy knew you did, but you insisted that you didn't want to cheat, nor break up with your boyfriend because you were afraid you were gonna hurt his feelings.

And Tommy? He didn't care. He was able to hide everything if he wanted to, but most of the time you didn't cooperate.

Now, it’s 3 AM. Your phone rings, breaking the silence in the darkness. It’s Tommy. You hesitate, but answer.

"Hey, it’s me," his voice rumbles, tired with sleep, low and insistent. "Look, I know it’s late, but I’ve been thinking..you should come with us on tour. No pressure— just think about it."