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| Shotgun Wedding; James/OC. Justice era. | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: July 24, 2011, 3:30 pm (11,471 Views) | |
| Burnout | September 14, 2011, 2:46 am Post #91 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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This was great!! I'm glad James is getting better! When he needs help and is feeling down, he tells that to Ashlynn, in my book, that's a step up! And this was a sweet, cute update! The image of little baby Adrian with blond curls will now stay in my mind forever! And it's too cute! Thank you for the update! |
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| Lawrah Luvsmetallica | September 14, 2011, 3:54 pm Post #92 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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| Olyamet | September 14, 2011, 4:07 pm Post #93 |
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Jäger.....
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Sooorryyyy, I missed so many updates!!! Still love it! |
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| disposable_hero | September 15, 2011, 12:25 am Post #94 |
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Frantic
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Thanks, you guys, for giving me feedback and whatnot. I should have another update up by tomorrow night or Friday. |
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| disposable_hero | September 20, 2011, 7:31 pm Post #95 |
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Frantic
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Sorry it look me longer than planned to get another part up. - - - James' POV Ten months. I had ten months of sobriety under my belt. I didn't get any sort of award, because I hadn't been to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting since my ninety day mark. I'd stayed sober, though, all on my own. It was the first time I was proud of myself for something that wasn't linked to Metallica. "Have you even packed yet?" "Huh?" Ashlynn poked the side of my face, bringing me back to the living room. I was laying on the couch with Ashlynn, my body resting between her legs and my head resting on her stomach while she was sitting up, back against the couch's arm. I'd been dozing off. "Have you packed?" "Oh. Uh, no." I lifted my head from her stomach and ran a hand through my hair. It got stuck. I cursed and pulled my hand away, saving the knot for a much needed brush. "You leave tomorrow night." Ashlynn stated, laughing. "I know. I'll pack. I swear." I settled myself between her legs once more, my head on her stomach. "But for now, leave me alone." I felt her fingers move through my hair, working delicately to untangle the strands. I closed my eyes, turning my head to the side, thinking about how fucking great my life was. I had a woman who loved me, despite my loads and loads of discrepancies and flaws. And that woman had given me a beautiful, intelligent son. I was so happy. But I was going to leave all of this soon, only to be sucked back into the black hole of rockstardom: partying, drinking, fucking, and drugs. I gulped at the thought. I hadn't been around alcohol since the day I decided to bathe my old apartment in it, but once the tour started... I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, blocking out any light. I didn't want to think about it. Would I be able to do this? Sobriety was great, yeah. I had a great life, sure. But I was so fucking bored. I was distant from my friends and bandmates. I didn't do anything anymore. The freedom I'd had with my drinking was gone; I was on a leash now. My boredom wouldn't surpass my love and need for my family. I wouldn't let it. As Ashlynn combed her fingers through my hair, I hoped, prayed even, that it was true. - - - Ashlynn's POV "Hey, you fucking bear, get off of me." James woke with a start at my words, releasing his grip on my waist. He looked at me, his eyes apologetic. "Sorry. Don't realize what I'm doing when I sleep." With that, he fell back onto the bed, snoring before he hit the pillow. I held back my laughter, tiptoeing from the room. Adrian was with Laura so James and I could spend our last day together for a while alone. This left me free to make food without worrying about the little terror running around the house, sticking his fingers in electrical sockets and shit. The thought made me cringe. It was early afternoon, so I figured lunch would do. After rummaging through the fridge and cabinets, I couldn't help but notice that I had everything I needed to make a huge fucking feast of Mexican food, a favorite of James and I. Homemade tortillas. Different kinds of enchiladas, tacos, and burritos. My stomach growled loudly. As usual, the radio was on as I went to work. I went through two hours of singing Led Zeppelin, The Beatles, and even some Metallica that came on the radio before I was finished cooking. The kitchen was filled with the aroma of fresh Mexican food and I was practically drooling. I was surprised that James wasn't downstairs already, stuffing his face. I hurried up the stairs, eager to wake him up so I could eat. I cracked open the door to our bedroom and James was spread out on the bed, still snoring. I crawled onto the bed, trailing my hand up James' bare back. He shifted, groaning, as I pressed my lips to his ear. "Wake up." He groaned again, turning on his back. His eyes found mine; he was glaring. "What?" I smiled. "Get up. It's like, two o'clock." He ignored me, but sniffed heavily. Sitting up, he sniffed again. "What'd you make?" "Mexican." "God, I love you." James reached for me and pulled me to him, kissing me softly. He pulled away and climbed out of bed, stretching and yawning. "Alright," he reached for a black shirt on the floor and pulled it over his head. "Let's go eat." - - - We pigged out in front of the television like two teenagers, fighting over food. When I ate my fill, I collapsed on the couch, clutching my stomach. James was busy munching on a burrito, snorting at the cheesy scary movie on the TV. "I have a food baby," I said, rolling to my side. "What about a baby?" "I have one. Made of food. In my stomach." I groaned loudly. "I ate so much." James polished off his burrito, licking his fingers lavishly. On the floor, he turned to face the couch. He placed a hand on my bloated stomach, rubbing it affectionately. "We'll name it Taco." I slapped his hand away, laughing. "I feel gross." "That's what you get for being such a good fucking cook. I'm not gonna eat for days." "Yeah, alright. You'll get to Europe and find the first McDonald's." "Gross. I am above fast food." He waved his hand dismissively, sticking his nose in the air. "Baby, you're an idiot." James grinned. "And you love me." "Yeah, I do." I smiled, shaking my head. He leaned toward me, brushing his nose against mine. We kissed. When James pulled away, he was still grinning. "You know what we should do tonight?" He didn't wait for me to answer, "We should go out. Get dressed up and shit. We haven't done that in forever." "I don't think we've ever done that." "Whatever. Just find something sexy to wear, okay?" He got up off of the floor, and crossed the room. "Where are you going?" I sat up, watching him bound up the stairs. He paused in the middle. "I'm going to get ready to go out and buy something fancy." "By yourself?" He flipped me off, but smiled before climbing the rest of the stairs. - - - Three hours later and I was ready, but James was no where to be found. I groomed and re-groomed myself like I were going on a first date. I was wearing a black dress with one full sleeve. It was tight, stopping a few promiscuous inches above my thighs. My hair was down, which was a rare occurrence. My feet were strapped into a pair of black peep toe pumps. I felt great. Standing in front of the mirror, I examined myself. I looked fine, but I was nervous for some reason. Maybe it was because this was the first time in ages that I had a dress on, that I attempted to look nice. "Hello?" Someone called from downstairs. It was James. Anxious, I grabbed my black clutch and hurried down the hallway. I took the stairs slowly, careful not to trip in the heels I was so unfamiliar with after about two years. "Jesus Christ." James leaned against the wall at the bottom of the steps, his hand over his mouth. He was wearing black jeans with a black button up shirt, unbuttoned a bit to reveal a white shirt beneath, and black dress shoes. He looked crisp and sexy. "'Jesus Christ' yourself." I circled him, taking in his outfit. "Who dressed you?" "Honestly? Lars did." James snorted with laughter. "He did a good job." James turned to face me. He placed his hands on my hips, pushing me outward to look me over. "And who dressed you?" "I dressed myself. I'm an adult." James brought me closer and kissed me. "Can we just stay home now? I would totally love to take you out of that dress." He kissed me again, pressing me against the wall. "No. You can take me out of it later, though. You can take me to dinner now." He blinked, then gave me a mock frown. "We have to leave now, then. Before I go fucking nuts." - - - "You look so good." James wrapped his arms around my waist as we waited to be seated. "If you say that again, I'm leaving." He laughed softly, resting his head on my shoulder. "I'll leave with you." The hostess arrived, stuttering, "James! I-I mean, Mr. Hetfield." At present, James was pressing kisses to my neck, oblivious to her presence. I elbowed him in the stomach and he jumped back from me, grunting. When he noticed the hostess, he cleared his throat loudly and straightened up. "Seats at the bar for the two of you?" The hostess, suddenly cold, opened her arms to guide us in that direction. "No, thanks. A booth in the back." The hostess nodded, bringing the menus to her chest before stalking off. We followed suit. She seated us, stiffly notifying us that our server would be with us shortly. Then she hurried off without another word. "What was that about?" I raised an eyebrow at James. He blinked. "Um...nothing?" "Tell me," I urged, nudging his leg with my foot beneath the table. When he didn't speak, I nudged him again. "Fine." He leaned forward, his elbows on the table. "When I drank, I would come here and spend like, five hours just knocking back drinks at the bar. I came at least once a week. I got to know the staff pretty well." "How well?" He rolled his eyes. "That girl, Nina. Before I met you, we had a thing." I raised my eyebrows, wanting a further explanation. "We fucked. Casually, I guess. Anyway, that went on for a few months and then I went on tour and stopped talking to her. Then I met you and forgot about her. It wasn't anything serious." I shrugged. "I didn't say it was. She just looked like, I dunno...like she was about to hit me or something. She looked so pissed." "Can we stop talking about this? It's making me uncomfortable." James shifted in his seat and looked down at the table. I did the same, studying the grooves in the fine wood. "Why don't you tell me anything about your life before me, James? I was just being curious about her. I don't care that you were with someone else. It'd be stupid for me to be angry, since I wasn't even in the picture then." I looked up from the table and he did the same, frowning. "My life sucked before you. That's why, Ashlynn. My dad left and my mom died. I drank too much. I didn't take care of myself. I was a fucking idiot. I don't want to talk about it." As he fumed, our server, a teenage girl named Sophia, arrived with glasses of ice water. James took one, gulping it down. "Um, do you need a minute?" Sophia backed away from our table, ready to leave, when James stopped her. He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. "No, sorry. For appetizers, we'll have the bruschetta and the uhhh," he consulted the menu. "The oysters. For dinner, I'll just have the spaghetti and she'll have the grilled chicken with tomatoes and basil." He handed the menus off to the waitress and turned back to me. I blinked. "You know everything about me. I don't know shit about you,"I said, frowning. "I told you: I don't want to talk about it." He looked away from me again. Despite his attempts at aversion, I pursued the topic. "You're being so stubborn about this. Why? I'm just curious." "You're not curious, Ashlynn. You're being a fucking nag," James snapped before he smoothed out his mustache. "If you didn't want to talk about something, I wouldn't fucking bother you about it. I feel like you're fucking interrogating me." He ran a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath. My face fell. I hated that the littlest things made him angry with me. It upset me. "A-alright. I'll stop." I held up my hands in defeat, then placed them in my lap, where my eyes followed. A few minutes of silence went by. I felt James staring at me, but I refused to look up. I hated to give into my emotional side, but this night was supposed to be great and here we were, fighting. We couldn't do anything without fighting. It made me want to cry. When I didn't look up from my lap, James got up from the table. He didn't return until after the appetizers were brought to the table. He slid into the booth, casting me an apologetic look. "Sorry about that. I just don't like talking about myself." He coughed. "And I'm sorry for being a dick lately. I don't know how to act when I'm angry. Normally, I'd just drink and pass out, but now I don't know what to do with myself so I break things, I yell at you, I act like a teenager. I'm sorry." "You need to learn to control yourself." I looked up, squinting at him. "You're twenty-eight, not twelve. I understand that it's hard, I really do, but it's aggravating, James. I shouldn't have to deal with you like you're a kid. When you're angry I need to tiptoe around you and you need at least two days to calm down; that's not okay." James lifted his fork and poked at a piece of bruschetta with no intention of eating it, I was sure. When I scoffed and moved to get up, he stopped me. "Where're you going?" "I can't...I'm not hungry anymore. I'm going to go have a cigarette." I pulled my wrist from his grasp. "You know I hate that shit, Ashlynn," he chastised, sneering. "Better than your cigars, James." With that, I turned my back on him and stalked off, the clicks of my heels following. Once outside, I leaned against the wall. It was hot out, but it didn't stop me from pulling out and lighting a cigarette. I inhaled, letting the nicotine invade my lungs for a few seconds before breathing out. As I watched the sweet smoke travel towards the sky, someone leaned on the wall next to me. I looked over: it was James. "What are you doing out here?" I asked, looking away and taking another drag. "Let's go home." He pushed off of the wall and motioned for me to follow him. When I didn't, he let out an exasperated sigh. "What, Ashlynn? What now?" "I don't want to go home." I took another drag and blew the smoke out of my nose. "Take me somewhere." "Somewhere? We're out right now!" He waved a hand in front of his face, wafting my cigarette smoke away. What a drama queen. I flicked my cigarette to the ground, crushing it under the ball of my foot. I made my way over to James, bringing my hands up his back. "Take me somewhere where you can take me out of this dress." I pressed a kiss to his neck. "You still wanna do that, right?" His hands traveled down my sides, stopping at my hips. He licked his lips and his hungry eyes found mine. "Yeah, I do." |
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| Lawrah Luvsmetallica | September 20, 2011, 9:11 pm Post #96 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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AGHHHHHHHHHHH james u r good with words that can make a girl fall to her knees
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| Olyamet | September 20, 2011, 9:13 pm Post #97 |
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Jäger.....
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Ohhh...dressed up James! Very well written! The thought of Lars dressing up James made me giggle! Love it! More!
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| disposable_hero | September 20, 2011, 10:43 pm Post #98 |
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Frantic
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A short part since y'all are so nice. n_n - - - James' POV I drove Ashlynn to Muir Woods, a place where I used to hang out by myself when I was younger, just listening to music and shit. But now I was with Ashlynn and we were rolling around in the back of my truck like a couple of teenagers. "God, I feel so stupid. I haven't parked since I was nineteen or something." I was laying on the blanket that had so conveniently been resting in the backseat of my truck. I laughed, but Ashlynn shushed me by pressing her lips to mine. She also pressed her body to mine, straddling my thighs. I took advantage of her closeness, letting my hands roam her body mindlessly. I wasn't going to see her for months, so I was taking the time to map out her body. As we kissed so roughly, I slipped both hands beneath the skirt of her dress. She shivered at the touch of my cold hands. As I caressed the inside of her thighs, she let out a contented sigh. I bent my knees, letting her lean on them, and I sat up. "Where's the zipper on this?" One hand left her thighs and ventured up her body, searching for the zipper. Ashlynn grabbed my hand, shaking her head. "Take advantage of the fact that we have five hours to kill and this is the last time we're going to have sex in about three months. Don't be so quick about things." She kissed me softly, then pulled away, leaning back on my bent legs. "I mean, don't you want this to last a while?" As she spoke, she unzipped my pants and started jerking me off. I let out a low groan and tilted my head backward. Once I was hard, Ashlynn's hands left me. My eyes popped open and I gave her a questioning look. "Stand up," she told me, climbing out of my lap. "If you say so." I stood, leaning my back against the cab of the truck. My pants fell to my ankles, leaving me nude from the waist down. Ashlynn stood with me, but soon left me once more, leaving soft kisses on my body as she got on her knees. She licked the head of my dick and I groaned, gripping the top of the truck's cab. As Ashlynn's hand worked my shaft, she teased my head, sucking it softly. I tangled one hand into her hair before she gave me what I wanted. She took my full length in her mouth and I let out a gasp. Her tongue moved around my cock and she fondled my balls with her hands. "Fuck!" My breathing was ragged. I was going to come, but not without Ashlynn's permission. Despite our position, Ashlynn was in control. More than once I'd tried to fuck her mouth or move her head faster, but she wouldn't relent, so I let her do as she pleased. My legs were trembling, threatening to give out. "Oh, God, Ashlynn. Let me come. Please." She sucked me harder, bobbing her head faster. My eyes rolled to the back of my head and I let out another groan. I came in Ashlynn's mouth, loudly crying out. When she pulled away from me, I slid to the bed of the truck. I couldn't function. My heart was beating out of my chest. "Fuck. Thank you," I mumbled, staring to the sky. Ashlynn laughed at my side. She climbed into my lap and my hands found her thighs again. My fingers crept further up her thighs, eventually gripping her underwear. She maneuvered out of them as I brought them down her legs. "Tell me where the zipper is now." Ashlynn smiled knowingly. She lifted her left arm, the one without the sleeve. "Under here." I leaned forward, unzipping the dress. Ashlynn slipped her right arm out of its sleeve, then I brought the dress over her head and tossed it away. She pressed her bare body to mine, rubbing herself against me. I buried my face in her neck, rocking my hips upward. Her hand softly gripped my hard cock and she eased herself onto me. I gasped as she settled in my lap and began rocking against me, her stomach rolling against mine. She moved slowly, to some melodic music only she could hear. After a few minutes, she moaned and tossed her head back, shadows obscuring her face. I slipped my hand between her legs. I teased her clit, running my pointer and middle fingers over and around it; she cried out, riding me faster. "I love you, gorgeous," I said, my voice a deep growl from the back of my throat. I brought her closer to me. She wrapped her arms around my neck and I leaned forward, bringing one of her nipples into my mouth. As my tongue circled her nipple, Ashlynn groaned, moving faster, making me tighten my grip on her waist. I pushed my hips up, burying myself deeper inside of her. With a groan, I rested my head against the cab of the truck, looking up at her. She returned my gaze, her eyes wide. We stayed like that, looking at each other, until we both came. Ashlynn orgasmed first, burying her face into my neck to lessen her cries. I thrusted my hips upward while whispering to her softly, bringing her down. I came hard, squeezing Ashlynn's hips tightly. When I pulled out of her, she didn't move from my lap, so I hugged her to my chest. - - - Ashlynn's POV "That was so good," I said breathlessly, leaning my forehead on James' shoulder. "Yeah, it was." James breathed deeply, nodding. He shifted slightly and I leaned back so I was face-to-face with him. "Will you do me a favor?" I nodded and he asked me to get something out of the front pocket of his pants. I reached down to his ankles, digging into his right pocket. When I found nothing, I moved to his left pocket. It was a small velvet box. My heart jumped. I brought my hand up, trembling but clutching the box nonetheless. "Open it," James urged, smiling. I opened it with a shaky hand and gasped at the prize inside: a white gold, double-banded engagement ring with a simple diamond perched in the midst of the two bands. James kissed the underside of my jaw. "Marry me, Ashlynn." "Holy shit. I, um...I...fuck." I was shaking still. Marriage. Again. I didn't want what I had with Michael. I never wanted to live like that again. The thought of my past made me want to get up and run away and never look back. But then I looked up at James, with his excited grin and his soft blue eyes and those feelings disappeared. This was James: the man I loved, the funniest guy I knew, the best father I'd ever met. He was perfect. I stopped shaking and a smile made its way across my lips. I plucked the ring from its box and slipped it onto my left ring finger; it fit perfectly. As if sensing my previous apprehension, James kissed my forehead and said, "I'll never treat you like he did. You're a fucking angel, Ashlynn. You deserve so much better than me, but I hope I can make you happy." "You already make me happy. And I don't deserve better than you. There's no one better than you, you fucking idiot." I smiled at him and he laughed, squeezing me in a hug. We dressed quickly, then climbed back into the truck. As we drove home, James did something he normally didn't: held my hand, our hands dangling over the console. Whenever we slowed or stopped at a light, he turned to smile at me. His happiness was contagious. We were deliriously happy. If I were a spectator, I would've gagged. But I didn't care about anyone else. It was me, James, and Adrian now. We were going to become a real family. We were all going to be Hetfield's. |
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| Auluna Raie | September 21, 2011, 4:19 am Post #99 |
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Shark-Tastic!
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Oho, I gotta get my raincoat...I KNOW there's a storm a comin' *puts on helmet and dives back into bunker to look for rain gear* |
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| ilovejaymz | September 21, 2011, 8:20 am Post #100 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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I couldn't help but laughing at "Baby Taco" So hot and so sweet, with the scene in he truck , but as Auluna wrote, there must be a storm coming. Can he stay on the right path, when he's gone? Looking forward to see what's going to happen.
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| Auluna Raie | September 21, 2011, 5:07 pm Post #101 |
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Shark-Tastic!
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I found raincoats! *sets them out for whoever wants 'em* |
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| disposable_hero | September 23, 2011, 8:33 pm Post #102 |
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Frantic
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Y'all called it. Shit is going downhill from here. At least for a little while. - - - James' POV One year later; August 3rd, 1992 I was twenty-nine. The thought made me sad. This was the last year I'd be spending in my twenties. My last hooray before I was officially "old". Not that I could do anything fun. We all know that being sober is boring by now, so I won't complain anymore than I already have been. "Hey, James!" I turned, my guitar bumping against my hips. I'd forgotten where I was, lost in my thoughts. We were rehearsing out of boredom. We were home for a few days and there was literally nothing to do. Except drink, which I couldn't do. "We're rehearsing, man. Get with it." I yawned loudly, but nodded. Lars counted off and we went into Enter Sandman. We went through our entire setlist twice before we quit. The guys got ready to leave my house, intending to go to a nearby bar. "You wanna come?" Lars questioned, tilting his head. I waved them off. "Nah, go. I'll be out later, maybe." They all glanced at me sadly, probably wondering who this shadow of their old friend was. They each wished me a happy birthday before heading out, hugging me and whatever. When they were gone, I headed up from the basement. The house was a shell of quiet; no one was home but me. Ashlynn went out with Laura and Adrian's nanny, Kris, had taken him out for the day. What a fucking birthday, right? In my dull day, I did nothing. I sat on the couch, dozing in front of the television, but I didn't watch the television. I just sat. When five o'clock rolled around, Ashlynn came home, her arms full of bags from shopping. She left the bags by the door and climbed onto the couch with me. "Hey," I said, staring at the TV. "Happy birthday." She leaned over and kissed me. I returned her kiss, but tried nothing after that. "We're going out in an hour. Just so you know." I watched as she rose from the couch and crossed the room. "Where're we going?" "Out." Ashlynn left the living room, leaving me in the wake of her vagueness. - - - My drive was gone. When Ashlynn slid into the car in a tight, red cocktail dress, I didn't look twice at her. Normally, I would've teased her, running my hand up her thigh as I drove or kissing her roughly at red lights, but I couldn't muster up the energy to do anything but smile at her. Some fiance I was. "Make a right here," Ashlynn instructed, pointing. I followed her directions to a restaurant I was unfamiliar with. A valet took my keys when I stepped onto the asphalt, promising to be gentle with my truck. Upon entering the eatery, we were greeted with a chorus of "Happy birthday, James!" and I burst out laughing. My first genuine laugh in weeks. Lars, Kirk, and Jason all came over, pushing me and joking around. "We fucking had you going earlier, didn't we? Like we weren't going to do anything for your birthday," Lars said, nudging me. I pushed him away, laughing. Sometime during the party, Adrian toddled over to me and I hoisted him up on my shoulders, parading him around the restaurant and dancing with him for a few hours. I must've tired him out, though, because he fell asleep in my arms just before nine. Kris took him from me, smiling in that polite nanny way. "So." Ashlynn walked over to me, a drink in hand. She stumbled a bit. I raised an eyebrow. "I'm a little drunk." I laughed. "I can see that." "The thing is, though," she leaned against the bar. "I feel bad." "Why's that?" "I'm drinking. And you're not. That's why." She sipped her drink, staring up at me. "I'm fine, baby. I don't really need to drink. Even though I'd like to." I shrugged and she leaned forward, kissing me. I could taste the alcohol on her breath and God, did it taste good. Ashlynn left after that, locating Laura so they could talk or dance or something. I turned towards the bar, staring longingly at the bottles of liquor on the shelves. The overhead light hit them, making them glow in an angelic, welcoming manner. I smiled. I wanted very badly to climb over the bar and take a few bottles, hole up in the bathroom, and chug each one. Despite my current happiness, I wanted to get hammered. I missed the burn of alcohol traveling to the pit of my stomach. I missed the feeling of being drunk, how everything was so slow and funny. I missed my friends, too. It wasn't just Kirk, Jason, and Lars. All of my friends began to tiptoe around me. We no longer acted like old drinking buddies, but like new business partners. I was drifting further and further from my friends with every drink and I didn't take and I hated it. I turned my back on the bar. This internal conflict shit was getting on my nerves. I had to stop arguing with myself. I had to find a balance. - - - August 8th, 1992 "James, listen," the pyro guy snapped his fingers in my face. I flinched, but came to. I'd been watching Mötorhead's set from the side of the stage, oblivious to what this guy was telling me. I gave him my attention, nodding. "During 'Fade To Black', we're putting up some new pyro in the wings, so don't go out there. Alright?" I nodded again. "Gotcha." He nodded in returned, clapping my shoulder. When he left, I turned my attention back to the stage. Lars called for me a few minutes later so we could get ready for our own set. - - - The first hour or so of our set was great. Montreal was a great audience. I was playing harder than I had in days, singing my heart out and shit. I was seriously enjoying myself. "Alright, Montreal, this is one you all should know. And if you don't...well, uh, I don't know what the fuck you're doing here. This is 'Fade To Black'!" There were cheers as the song began. I grinned, then focused on my playing. I walked over from one of the wings before the cue, but something felt wrong. Lars' playing was a little off, like he wasn't paying attention. The colored flames that the pyrotechnics guy so graciously provided us with were going off. I turned back to see what was going on, but my vision was obscured my a twelve-foot flame. I'd stepped into one of the flames. All playing ceased. I was on fire. Someone tossed water on me - relief - then a blanket closed over me, smothering the flames. There was screaming. Kirk was the first bandmate to reach me. He screamed over the crowd, asking if I was okay. I was in shock, holding my bubbling arm up for him to see. I was whisked off stage, shaking still. There was so much screaming. People were milling around, but whoever was next to me was shouting for people to get out of the way. People were chattering away in French, but I just needed a hospital. I felt like my skin was melting off. Maybe it was. Someone sat me down, told me not to move. I could've laughed. Where the fuck was I going to go? A security guard ambled by, bumping my arm. I lost it, howling in agony, but also in anger. My fist went into his side and he shrieked, running off. I held my arm, rocking and waiting for someone to come get me. - - - A few hours later, Lars, Kirk, and Jason were mumbling next to my hospital bed, engaged in some sort of secret conversation. My left arm in a sling, attached to the wall so I couldn't move it, so I was unable to lean closer to hear anything further. I caught some words like 'riot' and 'fuck' and 'asshole'. "What the fuck are you three mumbling about?" I attempted to lean closer, but Lars pushed me back onto the bed. "Don't worry about it, man. Just chill." He gave me a look. It was his serious look. I grinned, despite the situation. "No, tell me. If it's something important, I deserve to know. I mean, fucking look at me." Kirk looked up at Lars from his chair. "He's got a point." Lars plopped back into his seat. "Fine. After you got, y'know, burned and shit, we promised we'd be back to do another show. No problems and shit. But then the focking crowd is waiting an hour for Guns N' Roses to go on. They get on and Axl has a focking hissy fit. He threw his mike down and walked off stage, saying his throat hurt. The band left, too. The crowd went nuts, man." Kirk nodded. "A riot broke out. They were flipping cop cars and fighting cops. They destroyed the stadium. It was fucking terrible." "I get down to the dressing rooms and Guns is acting like nothing happened. I was standing there thinking, 'What the fuck?' and Axl is reclining in his chair with a fucking cigarette in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other, saying that his throat was bothering him. He's such a princess." Jason crossed his arms over his chest and then there was silence. I brought my free arm to my face, pinching the bridge of my nose in aggravation. Guns N' Roses had been causing a lot of bullshit on tour, but this was way too much for my liking. Axl was such a kid. He took my injury as a ploy, maybe. He just didn't want to be upstaged. I didn't say anything. I was annoyed. I wanted a drink. No, I didn't want a drink. I needed a drink. |
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| Auluna Raie | September 23, 2011, 11:18 pm Post #103 |
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Shark-Tastic!
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*opens umbrella* |
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| ilovejaymz | September 24, 2011, 5:30 pm Post #104 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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Oh no! |
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| Lawrah Luvsmetallica | September 25, 2011, 2:49 pm Post #105 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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Keep goin' moar plzz
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And it's too cute!






8:43 PM Jul 10