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| To Live is to Die | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: March 5, 2008, 12:49 am (59,955 Views) | |
| Metalicious | November 17, 2008, 8:30 pm Post #346 |
Blackened
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I’d been to funerals before. I’d buried my parents, organizing everything from the casket selection to the music played at the wake. I remember thinking at the time that it was the most painful thing I had ever experienced, sitting in the front row, and wishing impossibly that they were there to comfort me. Thinking that nothing else would ever be that hard. And then we buried Caitlin. It was a beautiful day. I wanted clouds and rain and wind to match the somber, mournful mood of the ceremony, but it was unseasonably warm, the sun shining through the trees. Standing between James and Jan, with Pepper and Trish behind us, I was perfectly still as the tiny white casket was lowered into the ground. I felt a hand slip into mine, and turned to press my face against James’ arm, sobbing into the sleeve of his jacket. Both his arms went around me, and I realized it had been Pepper’s hand I was holding. I let go to wrap my arms around James’ waist, and didn’t move until everyone else had left. “We should go,” he said several minutes later. “We don’t have to go to Jan’s if you don’t want to, but we can’t stay here all evening.” I wasn’t ready to go. I didn’t want to leave her behind, all alone, in the huge, empty stillness of the graveyard. “She’s not there,” he said softly, tilting my face away from the mound of fresh earth. “You know that.” I pushed away from him, wiping the tears from my cheeks. “I know.” I turned away from the grave. “I want to go to Jan’s. She’s taken the time to organize it,” I said, referring to Jan’s offer to host a little reception at her house. “I’d like to see her. Do you want to go?” I asked, not sure what I wanted the answer to be. I wasn’t sure I could do this without him, accepting condolences and thanking people for coming, but I knew I didn’t want to have him there, but not have him with me. He nodded, hands in his pockets, his jacket open in the warm afternoon, revealing his dark blue dress shirt below. “Yeah. I think it’ll be easier if we’re together.” Taking a last look at the grave, I ran a hand over the small marker that James had picked. It was no more than two feet high, a stone angel with her hands folded in prayer. It had just the one date on it, representing her birth and death, and was inscribed below with “post tenebras lux”. After the darkness, light. “Bye baby,” I whispered. James kissed the top of my head, and guided me towards the truck. We were greeted by Mrs. Deanez and Trish, who were helping Jan with hostess duties. Mrs. D took James’ jacket, and hugged him tightly, while Trish slung an arm around my neck and took me into the kitchen where she poured me two fingers of whisky. “Here.” “I shouldn’t…” “You just buried your kid, your boyfriend is leaving in a week, and there are some very questionable individuals here. You need a drink.” I downed it in two swallows, dumping the glass in the sink. “Cigars next?” Jan said behind me. I turned around and let her bundle me into a hug. “No mother should outlive their child,” she said quietly. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” I gave her a weak smile. “I’m not a mother. Not really.” Frowning at me, she nodded towards the back porch. “Sounds like you need more whisky.” We sat on her porch, and she pulled out her stash of Cubans, putting aside three for James and Pepper and Lars, who joined us a short time later. “How’re you doing, little one?” Lars asked quietly while the others conversed. He was sitting beside me, his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, bracelets jangling every time he moved. “Truthfully? I just feel kind of numb.” I tapped the cigar gently, watching the ash drop. I liked the scent of the smoke more than I liked inhaling it. “Congratulations on the album release.” I couldn’t believe I’d waited this long to mention it. He smiled, kissing my cheek. “You’re very thoughtful to think of that right now. Have you actually heard the whole thing?” I shook my head. “Not yet. Just the tracks James played me last month. I wanted it to be a surprise…” He nodded, ducking his head. “I think, um, James is leaving a few days before I am. If you wanna come over and listen to it, or, y’know, if you need anything when he’s gone, and before I go…” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t know how to do this. This has to be the hardest day for you, and I don’t know how to make it better.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “Refresh my drink?” He grinned, planting a big kiss on my mouth. “That, I can do. I’ll be right back.” I saw James watching me carefully from across the porch, and I wondered if he was upset that I was drinking. When Lars returned with my drink, I shot him a questioning look, and he shook his head, giving me a tired smile. We stayed until the sun went down and the air became colder. Hugging Jan goodbye and thanking her for hosting, I climbed into the truck. James was silent as he drove, and I didn’t bother turning on the stereo. “Do you want me to sleep in with you tonight?” he said as we were turning down our street. I shook my head. “I don’t think I’ll be sleeping much. I wouldn’t want to keep you up. And I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to,” I added, trying to keep my voice neutral. He shook his head. “I doubt I’ll be sleeping much either.” “Then I guess we don’t need to worry about who stays in what bed,” I muttered. He made tea while I changed out of my dress. I put on pajama pants and a long sleeved tee shirt, taking a hoody downstairs with me. James had made a fire, and we sipped tea in silence, neither of us knowing what to say. James finally got up from his chair, and came to sit beside me on the couch. “I want to comfort you,” he said softly, his voice low and almost hoarse. “I just… I don’t know how to do it.” I nodded, leaning back against the arm of the couch. “I know. The only thing I want right now is the one thing you can’t give me,” I said sadly. He studied me carefully, as if he were contemplating giving me exactly what I wanted. Reaching out a hand, he touched my lips with his fingers. “Don’t,” I whispered, tears welling up in my eyes, choking out a sob. “I don’t want a pity fuck.” His hand dropped to his lap. “A pity fuck?” He looked like he was trying not to laugh. Moving so quickly I didn’t have time to react, he positioned himself above me, his face inches from mine. “It’s killing me to be this close to you, to know how much you’re hurting and that I can’t do anything about it. To know that I can’t hold you, or touch you or kiss you.” He dropped his head, his mouth almost on mine. “I’m using all the self-control I possess, in an effort not to rip off your fucking pyjamas, and you think it’d be a pity fuck?” I was hardly breathing. It was the most he’d said to me all day, and I had absolutely no idea how to respond. I was kind of hoping for the pajama ripping. “No,” I whispered. He shook his head, dropping his forehead against mine. “I’m sorry.” He stood up slowly. “I need some air. You okay if I go for a walk?” Nodding, I stayed precisely where I was. “Sure.” I went upstairs when he’d gone, washing my face and brushing my teeth, going through the motions as though this were any other evening. I hadn’t unpacked from Hawaii the day before, and I dumped out my bag, tossing most of my stuff into the laundry basket. One of James’ shirts was laying beside it, and I lifted it off the floor. Instead of putting it in the basket, I slipped out of my pajamas and pulled on the shirt. It was soft, and it smelled like him. If he wasn’t going to be staying in the same bed as me, this was as close as I could get to having him near. I slid under the covers, knowing I’d be awake for hours, but content to lay in the darkness anyway. I heard the back door close a few minutes later, and James came upstairs. Wordlessly, he got under the covers fully clothed, shifting over until he was laying beside me. His jeans were cold against my bare legs, as was his hand when he cupped the back of my neck. “You changed,” he said, sounding surprised. I rolled onto my side, and nodded against his ribcage. “S’your shirt,” I mumbled. “I wanted to be close to you.” He was silent for a moment. “It’s got pizza sauce on it.” “It smells like you,” I tried to explain. “I smell like pizza?” I let out a low rumble of annoyance. “Stop being difficult.” As always, it felt easier to talk to him in the dark, with his arms around me. “How was your walk?” “Good,” he said absently, stroking a hand over my hair. “Windy.” “James?” I didn’t know why my voice sounded so sleepy all of a sudden. “Mmhmm?” I wanted to ask him to kiss me. Instead, I lifted my head to rest it on his chest, and listened to the gentle, steady thud of his heart. “Will you sing me a song? I think I might be able to fall asleep if you sing.” He held me tighter, and started to sing softly, stroking my hair until I eventually drifted off. |
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| Taimi | November 17, 2008, 8:49 pm Post #347 |
Junior OSA Council member
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that was a sweet chapter, yet very, very sad |
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| Virtual Bettie | November 18, 2008, 2:18 am Post #348 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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What Cliffy said, sweet and sad. Ugh, that was tugging at my heart strings.... Except the 'pity fuck' part, that was funny. |
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| elena | November 18, 2008, 3:51 pm Post #349 |
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Outlaw Torn
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Very sad chapter but very well written! I hope they will pass this in future,even if with sure they won't forget it. I understand James's wishes,but in the same time I also understand Charlie's wishes,even if they are opposites.But i hote they will be the same soon,and I think the only wish which is the same for both is them together. I hope to read a new update soon!
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| Mina | November 18, 2008, 7:03 pm Post #350 |
Morgenstern
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Ah, such a bittersweet chapter. Loved it, you write so damn well, I'm always so INTO the fiction, really. Keep it up, you're awesome.
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| maisy blue | November 18, 2008, 9:10 pm Post #351 |
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Some Kind Of Monster
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As always, perfection. |
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| Metalicious | November 18, 2008, 9:33 pm Post #352 |
Blackened
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Thanks for the comments! And for being patient... Here's a little more before bedtime (for me, anyway). ******************************************************* I slammed the taxi door, heaving my bag over my shoulder, and narrowly avoided doing a face plant when I stumbled forward. Dropping my bag to the ground, I surveyed the yard, taking in all the work that Pepper had been doing. The hedges were pruned, a few new trees had been planted, he’d dug a trio of pools linked by a little waterfall, and there was a rock path leading to a sitting area between the house and the barn. Fucker was a hell of a singer and guitarist, but he had some serious talent as a landscaper, too. Pepper ambled out the front door, looking amused. “To what do we owe the honour of your presence, baby girl?” he asked, leaning against the house. I swayed in front of him, trying to focus in the porch lighting that made everything seem oddly white. “James is gone,” I announced, trying to go up the steps and missing them entirely. “Your yard looks pretty.” Taking my bag from me, Pep guided me inside, and sat me down at the kitchen table, taking my shoes when I kicked them off. “James is gone?” I nodded, immediately regretting it since it made everything in my line of vision start to swim. “Yeah. Space. He needs space. Can I stay with you guys? I tried calling Trish but there was no answer.” “You hung up on me, dork,” she called from the pantry. “Hi!” I knew the word only had one syllable. Why did it sound so long when I said it? Craning my neck around, I grinned at her, looking all cute and domestic with a checkered apron over her jeans. “I didn’t hang up on you, you didn’t answer. I got your machine.” “That was me!” She shook her head, coming over to hug me hello. “Drunk girl. Want some coffee?” “No,” I pouted. “I want more gin.” Pepper turned one of the chairs around, straddling it to sit. “Darlin’, what’s this about Hetfield wanting space? It’s your house, too. You don’t have to leave.” I shrugged, staring down at the hardwood floor that suddenly seemed much shinier and gleaming than the last time I’d visited. “Did you guys varnish this?” I rubbed my sock feet over the wood. “Few weeks ago,” Pepper said absently. “Right after you had dinner with us. Why’d you leave?” I looked at him, puzzled. “Because dinner was over and it was time to go home.” Jesus, he was dumb sometimes. He shot me a look. “Your house, fool, why’d you leave your house?” Ohhhhhh. “I wanted company. James left for the tour a few days early. He wants some space. And time. Maybe he’s building a continuum,” I giggled, and Pepper laughed. “You’re gonna be mighty sick tomorrow, darlin’,” he smiled, shaking his head. “Drink some water, and I’ll get you some Advil. We got anything to feed her before I tuck her in?” he asked Trish. She nodded, and moments later I heard the mechanical noise of the toaster lever going down. “They’re all going on tour in less than a week,” I said to no one in particular. “I would have thought that’d be more than enough space. Europe’s pretty fricken far. Thousands of miles in between us. He can’t wait three more days to get away from me? He’s gotta do it now?” I slumped in the chair, feeling extremely sorry for myself. “He wants space? He can have space. I’m fuckin’ here, aren’t I?” I stopped talking, feeling tears well up. Pepper crouched in front of me, folding his arms across my knees. “Tequila. Beer. Vodka. Motherfucking Baileys if you like. How many times I gotta tell you to stay away from the gin? It makes you all melancholy and shit. God.” He stood, pulling me up with him and taking the plate of toast from Trish. “Back down soon,” he murmured, kissing her brow. Leading me up to one of the guest rooms, he made up the bed, while he kept up a running commentary on all the yard work he’d been doing, his latest phone call with Woody and Mike, and something Phil had said in a recent interview that almost got the band sued. Folding the sheets back, he left for a moment and came back with a t-shirt and sweats that belonged to Trish. I changed in the bathroom and emerged to find he’d turned off the overhead light and switched on the little reading lamp beside the bed. He sat on one side of the bed, and laid an arm across my shoulders when I sat down beside him. “Thanks,” I whispered. “Welcome,” he kissed the top of my head. “Try not to stress, okay? He probably just wants some time to think and focus before they actually start doing shows. It’ll all work out.” I nodded, not really believing him. It was still nice to hear. “I love you, Keenan.” “Love you too, darlin’,” he replied, holding me tighter. I put a hand to my mouth, feeling my stomach lurch. “Enough to hold my hair back? I don’t feel so hot…” I mumbled through my fingers. “Lord,” he muttered, leading me back into the bathroom. “C’mon.” ******************************************************* “You have to help me,” I said firmly. We’d been discussing this for the last half hour, and I could tell he was close to relenting. Lars narrowed his eyes at me, scrunching up his face, and looked away. "This is such a bad idea. He's gonna kill me." "He won't kill you. I promise. Me, maybe. You - well, he'll get over it. Please, Lars. I wouldn't ask if there were any other option. Please." He muttered something in Danish and then cursed softly. Getting up abruptly from the couch, he threw up his hands. "Fuck it. Yes. Okay? Yes. God. I'm so gonna regret this." I threw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his waist, overwhelmed with relief that he'd agreed. "Thank you," I mumbled against his neck. "I promise you won't regret it." He chuckled, stroking a hand over my hair. "Too late, sweetheart." Leaning back, he kissed my forehead. "I've gotta make some calls if this is gonna happen in time. You wanna hang out here for a bit or are you gonna take off?" "I should probably get going." I hugged him again, tightly. "Thank you, Lars." He nodded, smiling, but still looking slightly concerned. "Charlie, you might wanna have a back up plan. In case this doesn't go the way you want. He's not a big fan of surprises, and since this is actually the opposite of what you two decided..." "We didn't decide. He did. And this IS my back up plan." I refused to think about what would happen if things didn't go the way I wanted. "It has to work," I said simply. Lars shrugged, looking like there were a million things he wanted to say. "Okay. I'll let you know if anything unexpected comes up. Otherwise, I'll see you tomorrow. Can you be ready for two o'clock?" "Are you kidding me? I can be ready in five minutes. I really appreciate this." "Yeah, I'm getting that." I kissed his cheek and left, letting the screen door slam behind me. My heart wouldn't stop pounding during the drive back, and I fought the urge to pull over until I calmed down. There really wasn't time for that. I made it back to the ranch in record time, and Trish shot out of the house before I'd even put the truck in park. "He said yes." I barely got the words out before she started squealing and clapping her hands. Pepper appeared at the back door, wiping his hands on a rag that was tucked into the pocket of his jeans. "I gather Ulrich agreed?" I nodded, smiling as Trish kept bouncing around, and accepted her offer of a cold beer. "You still think this is a pretty terrible idea, don't you?" I asked Pepper when Trish had gone inside. "I just don't wanna see you get hurt, darlin'. The man asked for some space-" "I gave him space," I interrupted, and Pepper smiled. "Yeah, for about three days." He tucked his hands into his back pockets. "I don't think he's trying to be hurtful, Charlie. I believe he actually wants some time and distance to think about things." "He can have all the time he wants," I shrugged, kicking at a pebble in the driveway. "And distance?" I crossed my arms, squinting at him in the bright afternoon sunlight. "Yeah, not so much." Chuckling, he threw an arm around my shoulders, guiding me into the house. "Just promise me you won't push it. If it's clear that he really doesn't want you there, come home. Okay?" "Mmmhmm. We'll see." "I'm serious, Charlie. I understand where you're coming from, but - ow!" he jerked back, putting a hand to his butt as Trish appeared behind him. "Baby-" "Stop trying to talk her out of this," she scolded. "I'll pinch you again," she held up a hand in warning, smiling as she let herself be pulled into a kiss. "Trust me, Keenan, I'm aware of how he'll probably react. I hardly expect him to leap for joy at my presence." Shrugging, I took the beer that Trish handed me. "I just don't know what else to do." "I think it's romantic," Trish said firmly. "I think you're crazy," Pepper muttered. "I love you guys." I followed the two of them into the dining room, smiling when I saw the huge spread that Trish had prepared. "This looks amazing." "Last supper," Pepper grinned at me. "Ouch!" "I warned you," Trish smiled serenely, winking at me. Eyeing her warily, he rubbed his butt and took a seat. "Is Lars sending a car for you tomorrow? I can drive you if you want." I shook my head. "I'm going with him. Two p.m. pick up." Glancing at his watch, he nodded. "Plenty of time for you to pack and get a decent night's sleep." "Yeah. I just need to swing by the house and pick up a few things..." I trailed off as Pepper and Trish looked at each other, and then at me. "It's fine, James left this morning. He won't be there." "I'll go with you anyway," Trish said softly. "Thanks." I paused, sipping my beer, and looked at Pepper. "You really think I'm crazy?" He reached across the table, taking my hand in his, and smiled. "No more than usual." |
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| Scorpion Flower | November 19, 2008, 6:15 am Post #353 |
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Outlaw Torn
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Good as always. I wonder how the surprise will turn out...
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| elena | November 19, 2008, 10:23 am Post #354 |
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Outlaw Torn
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Me too! I can't imagine how he will react. :wacko: Love your story!
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| Metalicious | November 19, 2008, 5:37 pm Post #355 |
Blackened
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Thanks chickies. More to come soon. |
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| Virtual Bettie | November 20, 2008, 12:41 am Post #356 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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Oh, I hope this goes well for our girl. But I also understand where Hetfield is coming from, and sometimes when a persaon says they need space, they just do. LOL, I once told my man that after I found out he was all screwed up on drugs, I wanted time to think about things. He took it as me trying to break up with him in a nice way, imagine how surprised i was when I called him three weeks later to find aother girl answering his phone. ![]() Needless to say, things eventually got straightened out and we eventually got back together (a year later, he's clean now and has learned that i tend to mean 'exactly' what i say). I hope Charlie (much like my man) isn't putting her foot into it. |
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| Metalicious | November 20, 2008, 7:15 pm Post #357 |
Blackened
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Lars arrived promptly at two o'clock. Pepper and Trish saw me off, leaning against each other with mugs of tea in their hands. I kissed them both goodbye and hugged the dogs before hauling my bags out to the car where Lars was waiting. "Got everything?" he murmured, sunglasses on even though it was drizzling rain. "Yeah." I leaned back against the cool leather seat and pressed a hand to the glass as Pep and Trish waved goodbye. Suddenly this seemed like the worst idea in the world. "Lars?" He squeezed my hand. "It'll be okay, Charlie." We rode to the airport in comfortable silence. Lars received a few phone calls and sent some texts, but other than that we both stared out the window, too engrossed in our thoughts to talk. When we arrived several minutes later, I saw Kirk approaching leaning against a baggage cart, and he broke into a huge grin when he saw me. "Hey," he wrapped me in a tight hug, lifting me off the ground a little. "Lars said you might come along. This is so great!" "I'm glad you think so," I leaned against him, resting my head on his shoulder. "Everyone else thinks I'm certifiable. 'James doesn't like surprises, James wants his space', blah blah blah," I muttered, feeling totally unsure of myself after having been awake most of the night thinking. Kirk pulled back, his smile faltering a little. "He doesn't know you're coming?" Fuck. "No." He waited a beat and then grinned at me. "Ahh, it'll be fine. Touring's fun. Wanna sit by me on the flight?" "Absolutely." We checked in, got our boarding passes, and were escorted to a private lounge while we waited to board. There was an array of food, and tons of coffee, and by the time our flight number was called, I was feeling almost perky. I had done a double take when I'd seen the cost of the ticket for the flight to London, but when I stepped on board the enormous Virgin Atlantic plane, I understood where my money was going. "This is awesome," I whispered to Kirk. We were in the upper class suites, which amounted to convertible beds, ottomans, a large bar, personal entertainment systems, and way more space than I'd ever seen on an aircraft. "Fourteen thousand dollars buys a lot of room," I grinned at Lars. "You're between me and Kirk," he smiled, tossing his bag on his seat. He ordered a round of drinks for us, and watched, amused, as I set up my books and magazines, laughing outright when I pulled out a pair of sweats. "I wanna be comfy," I explained. Excusing myself, I went into the incredibly spacious bathroom and swapped my jeans and fitted jacket for the soft navy pants I'd brought along, pulling on a yellow tee shirt. I tucked my original outfit into my carry on bag, and exited the bathroom, plunking down on Kirk's bed beside him. "They've got every episode of Blackadder available," he informed me, moving over to make more room. "I ordered a steak for you, medium rare. They don't have anything smaller than a ten ounce." "Wow. That's my red meat intake for the month taken care of. Thanks. I'm gonna get in my seat for take off, and I'll be back for Blackadder." I went to my own seat, pressing the button that flipped the seat over, turning it into a bed. A flight attendant offered to turn down my bed for me, and I chatted to Lars while she fluffed my pillow and pulled back the duvet and sheets. Settling in when my meal arrived, I powered up my laptop to send Jan an email before take off. Shutting it down again just as the plane started to taxi forwards, I stowed my carry on bag and leaned back against the pillows. I must have dozed off for quite a while, and when I leaned over my seat to see Kirk, he glanced up at me, removing his headphones. "Sorry!" I whispered. "Still want company?" "C'mon over." Taking the top blanket from my bed, I curled up beside him and stuck my headphones in the second slot. He offered a bag of jellybeans and I picked out the green ones. "Hey!" I looked up to see Lars leaning over the side of the seat, and tugged my headphones off. "Hi buddy." "I'm all by myself over there," he grinned. I patted the small space beside me. "Get your ass down here, then." Kirk and I shifted over, and Lars gleefully climbed on beside us, wriggling around until he was semi-comfortable. It was a tight squeeze with the three of us, but we managed. I handed Lars one of my headphones, and relaxed against Kirk when he lifted an arm to pull me closer. "Jellybean?" I opened my palm to Lars. "Oooh, apple!" He snagged two from my hand and wriggled around some more, before finally sitting still. "Stop talking," Kirk hushed us. Five episodes and two and a half hours later, the three of us were all experiencing numb-butt syndrome from sitting so long, so Lars and I headed to get a drink. Dim blue lighting shone over the bar, and we ordered two gin and tonics, swiveling on the stools across from the bartender. "Will you do me a favour?" I asked quietly. The rest of the passengers had dozed off after dinner, and we were the only people at the bar. Lars studied me, his fingers rubbing at the condensation on his glass. "I'm still in the middle of the last favour I did you," he smirked. "Smartass." He grinned wider, nodding emphatically. "What's up?" "Will you let me know if I'm overstepping? You've all been so sweet and accommodating, but this is different. I don't wanna get in the way, and I don't know what the rules are, or where the boundaries lie." "You won't be in the way. And trust me, it'll be pretty clear where the boundaries are. There's a lot of stuff where, if you're not in the band..." he jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "It'll be obvious." "And if it's not?" "If it's not, I'll have you forcefully removed from wherever we are," he winked. "Finish your drink. We should get some sleep." He walked me back down the aisle and tucked me in, pulling the blankets up to my neck, and knelt on the bed in order to kiss the top of my head. "Everything will be fine, little one," he murmured. "I'll see you when we land." I woke up several hours later to a smiling flight attendant who immediately offered me coffee, saying she would bring it to me in bed, and that I could keep the bed reclined until we'd landed. Thanking her profusely, I dug out the clothes I'd packed in my carry on, and my make up bag. Kirk was awake when I walked past him to the bathroom, and he looked up at me from under a mass of black curls. "Morning Hammett." "S'early," he mumbled. "S'very, very early." I nodded. "There's coffee..." "Good," he croaked. "I need it." I changed quickly, pulling on slim fitting jeans, a white sleeveless t-shirt and a cashmere argyle sweater. Sweeping on some blush, I patted concealer around my eyes, trying to cover the dark circles under them, and exited the bathroom to find Lars already dressed and talking on his phone, gesticulating wildly. Sliding past him, I stretched out on my bed again and accepted a steaming cup of coffee and a plate of fresh fruit. The plane dropped steadily, and the pilot announced that it was currently raining and twelve degrees, and the local time was 10:21 a.m. Kirk popped his head over the seat. "Eight degrees...that's cold, right?" "It ain't warm," Lars muttered beside me. |
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| Metalicious | November 20, 2008, 7:17 pm Post #358 |
Blackened
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(2 of 2 updates) ******************************************************* Disembarking several minutes later, we huddled together sleepily, waiting for our bags. I stepped back when three shy fans approached the guys, and then stepped forward again when they needed someone to take some pictures. Lars mugged for the camera and Kirk smiled sweetly, flashing the horns. Once the numerous bags had been accounted for, we piled into a black SUV and settled in for the half hour journey to central London. I watched the buildings fly by, faded brick against gloomy sky, and tried to calm my nerves. We rounded a corner and passed Battersea Park, and I smiled in spite of myself, remembering the countless games of rugby I'd played there. "What's the schedule?" I asked Lars, peering over his shoulder while he flipped through an itinerary. He shifted in his seat, showing me the papers. "Wembley tomorrow night, surprise club gig the next and then a couple days off." "Can I come watch one of the shows?" He glanced at me, surprised. "Of course you can. I kind of expected you'd wanna come to most of them. You can watch from the stage or we can get you in the crowd. Up to you." He laid a hand over mine. "I know you feel like you're walking on eggshells with Hetfield, but nothing's changed with the rest of us. You're still our friend, and you're still welcome anywhere you choose to be." I felt a wave of relief wash over me, and let out a breath, smiling at Lars. "Thank you. I just...I don't want him to feel betrayed, or like I'm intruding. I wanna be around, but not in his face. I'm not sure he'll want me at the shows." "You don't wanna be in his face? Don't be in his face." Lars shrugged, as if it were as simple as that. "This isn't grade school, Charlie. You're here because you love him, and you're trying to make things right. It may take him a while, but he'll see that eventually." We arrived at the Mandarin Oriental, and were greeted by two doormen in long red coats and black top hats. Our luggage was whisked away, and I followed Lars and Kirk into the hotel. The pure opulence of the place was incredible, with gleaming chandeliers and an abundance of fresh flowers everywhere. I was eager to find my room and get settled in. Hopefully all without running into James. I wasn't ready to see him yet. Lars sidled up next to me once he’d spoken with the receptionist. "Here, sweetie. You're in the Brompton Suite. Why don't you go relax for a bit and call me when you're ready for lunch or dinner or whatever the hell meal we decide to have next." He handed me the key card and nodded to one of the dapper bell hops. I followed the young man into one of the elevators, and leaned against the back mirrored wall. The doors dinged open just as the elevator across from ours was closing, and I looked up to see James' face before the shining brass doors across the hall closed, his expression that of complete shock. Following the bell hop down the hallway, I kept glancing over my shoulder, expecting James to come charging out of the elevator, demanding to know what the hell I was doing there. He didn't come, and I flopped down on the high queen sized bed, simultaneously disappointed and relieved. "Will there be anything else, miss?" My bags were all laid neatly on the floor by the entrance to the suite, and I rooted through my carry on for some English money. "Nothing, thank you." I tipped him five pounds and smiled when he bowed and tipped his hat. Closing the door behind him, I gazed around the suite, taking in the soft muted colour on the walls and the plush carpet, the little touches of luxury here and there like a Waterford tray holding hotel stationary and the Mont Blanc resting atop the paper. I stripped off and ran a bubble bath, dumping half a bottle of the Jo Malone body wash into the tub with the water on full blast. Cautiously avoiding looking in the large mirror over the sink, I laid two towels on the heated rail, and rummaged through my bag til I found my pink robe, tossing it over the bathroom door. Resisting the urge to delve into the mini bar for a drink, I boiled the kettle instead, and sank into the bath with a steaming cup of tea. I'd brought a novel in with me, but after ten minutes, I still couldn't get past the first page. The look on James' face stuck in my mind. Not anger, not fury, definitely not happiness, just...surprise. |
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| Scorpion Flower | November 20, 2008, 7:52 pm Post #359 |
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Outlaw Torn
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Humm... I wonder what was goin on his mind. Still curious about the next chapter, i want to know what he has to say about this. I smell trouble, you just don't surprise James Hetfield like that...
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| elena | November 21, 2008, 8:06 am Post #360 |
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Outlaw Torn
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James acted a little strange! I hope he will explain how he feel about this.Very good chapter as always!
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I smell trouble, you just don't surprise James Hetfield like that...

8:39 PM Jul 10