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| To Live is to Die | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: March 5, 2008, 12:49 am (59,954 Views) | |
| neonguitarstrings | November 21, 2008, 8:23 pm Post #361 |
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Bad Seed
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Wonder what the suprise look was for . . . Anyways,great update ! !
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| Virtual Bettie | November 22, 2008, 11:53 pm Post #362 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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LOL, he probably thinks she's stalking him now. |
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| Taimi | November 23, 2008, 2:04 am Post #363 |
Junior OSA Council member
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lol, it's soo great to find updates after seeing Metallica
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| KHkiddow | November 23, 2008, 8:28 am Post #364 |
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Frantic
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Hmmm... I was so into this story a couple of years back.. Might have to start again because I don't remember how far exactly I was. But I LOVED it! hehe |
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| Metalicious | November 23, 2008, 11:39 am Post #365 |
Blackened
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KH - long time no see! Glad you're back. I'm sure you'll figure out where you left off. Thanks for the responses, girls! Makes me happy to know you're all reading. *************************************************** A knock on the door startled me out of my thoughts, and I dripped across the bathroom floor, wrapping one of the towels around me, steam rising off my skin. Rob was standing in the hallway, arms open like he was ready to hug me, and he froze when he saw my state of undress. Bracing his arms on either side of the door instead, he pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Hi! You're here! You're...pink." "Bubble bath. C'mon in." I paused. "To the room. Not the tub." He laughed, following me inside and dropping onto the couch, bouncing twice before folding his hands in his lap. "I can’t stay - somebody from Kerrang is waiting in the lobby - but I wanted to say hi. Are you gonna come out tonight?" "Um, so far my plan is as follows: get dressed, have nap, wake up, have coffee. I haven't really thought too far ahead." He stood, hands in the pockets of his long shorts, and grinned. "Kirk and I were thinkin', since you lived here before, you might know of a couple decent hang outs. Low key, quiet, somewhere we can't get into too much trouble." "I'll try to come up with something appropriate," I giggled, thinking that the two of them had potential to get into trouble wherever they went. He nodded. "Cool. I'm so glad you're here. Try to come out tonight if you're not too tired, okay?" Or if James didn't toss my ass on a plane back to San Francisco. "Sure. Sounds good." He left for his interview and I went back to my bubble bath, taking my iPod with me. Closing my eyes, I hummed along to the soundtrack from Les Miserables. I was working my way through a rollicking version of "Do You Hear the People Sing" when I heard James clear his throat. Opening my eyes, I turned down the volume. "Did you come to yell at me? Or to say hello?" He shrugged. "Both." I removed my headphones and sat up a little, thankful for the bubbles that still covered the surface of the water. "Hi." "Hi," he replied, leaning against the door frame, arms by his sides. "Well, that covers the hello portion of the program..." I bit my lip, waiting for him to continue. He looked exactly the same as when I'd seen him a few days before. Tired, rumpled, and with a heavy five o'clock shadow. Even in the morning. "Why are you here?" Simple enough question. Simple answer. "I told you. I'm not leaving you again." He sighed. "Could you please get dressed? I'll be out here." He turned on his heel, gently closing the door behind him. I toweled off and slipped into my robe, hoping that would qualify as 'dressed'. All of my clothes were still in my bags. Draining the tub, I opened the door to see James sitting on the edge of one of the couches. "I haven't unpacked. This is as dressed as I can get at the moment, unless you wanna wait for me to rustle up some jeans." "You don't need to unpack," he said quietly. "You're not staying." I had known he would say that, but it still made my breathing hitch to hear it. "I'm not leaving." My voice wasn't as steady as his, but I tried to ignore that. "I'm staying. I won't be in the way, I won't be a distraction, I'll just be. Here. Not leaving." "We have four weeks of shows scheduled," he said slowly, like he was addressing a small child. "Interviews, radio promos, television shows, a couple of festivals... this is not the time-" "Yes, it is. James, please. I understand - at least, I think I have some idea - how busy you'll be. And I'm not asking you to spend every waking minute with me. I know you have eight million things going on in your life right now, and I don't expect to be the most important one. I don't even expect to make the top ten. But I'm not leaving." The corners of his mouth twitched a tiny bit. "Did you practice that?" I nodded. "The flight was really long." Rubbing a hand over his face, he stood up. "I appreciate what you're trying to do. But I told you I needed space. And time to think. This isn't really negotiable, Charlie. I need to be focused on the tour, not on you." I rubbed the soft fabric of my robe between my thumb and forefinger, staring at the floor. "I'm not asking you to be focused on me." "The fact that you're here would suggest otherwise," he said, sounding exasperated. I stood, trying to keep my body language neutral. "I'm just here, James. I'm here if you need me, or if you want to talk. If you don't, that's fine, too. I have my own room for every hotel. I won't be on the jet with you. I can ride with the crew when we take buses. I can watch the concerts from the stage, or the back row or not at all. I didn't come all this way to be a nuisance. You can take all the time you need. I'm just asking you to give up a little of the distance you thought you'd have." He snorted with mirthless laughter. "You're ten feet down the hall. I'd be giving up all the distance. Charlie, I can't be what you need right now. I'm not stable enough for you to lean on. It's taking all my strength and energy just to exist." He looked so exhausted, so raw and worn out that I had to fight the urge to go to him. "I don't have anything left for you. Not right now." He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. "Please go home." I stood perfectly still for a moment, and tried to figure out how to respond. Tried to think of what I could possibly say to ease his mind or convince him that it was best for both of us if I stayed. Crossing the few feet between us, I pressed a hand to his chest and looked up at him. "I don't need anything from you. I won't get this close to you again unless you ask me to, and I won't ask you for anything. I promise. But I'm not leaving." "You will," he said, so softly that I wondered if he knew he’d spoken aloud. "It's what you do." I heard, although it was in my head, the flood of excuses that I was ready to fling at him. I’d been scared. I’d been angry. I’d been sad. I was still all of those things, though, so to blame them for my running away wasn’t about to gain me any sympathy. Instead, I stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek, brushing my lips over the stubble on his jaw, and swallowed the three little words that rose up in my throat, knowing it wouldn’t do either of us any good if I said them. "Have a good show tomorrow." “Are you coming?” He sounded resigned. I nodded. “I’ll be there. I’ll stay out of the way.” He nodded and turned to leave. Stopping when he got to the door, he looked over his shoulder. “I don’t think you should be near the rail. This is our first gig, the crowd’s gonna be intense. Stay backstage.” “I will. Thanks.” He left without another word. I sank onto the bed, pulled a pillow over my head and wondered if I was making a huge mistake. |
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| elena | November 23, 2008, 12:43 pm Post #366 |
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Outlaw Torn
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Maybe is better if Charlie stays,maybe not.I don't know. :wacko: James needs space,but I think he exaggerates. Keep going!
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| Metalicious | November 24, 2008, 2:36 pm Post #367 |
Blackened
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Lars came by a couple of hours later, insistent on going somewhere for lunch. “Take me somewhere you used to go,” he suggested when we stepped outside. The rain had subsided, and I peeled off the light sweater I was wearing over my tee shirt, tucking it into my bag. “C’mon. Try to look inconspicuous,” I grinned at him, leading down to one of the bus stops. Paying both our fares when the number 9 arrived, I led him upstairs and took a seat in the front. “The view’s better up here, and you’re less recognizable from behind,” I reasoned when he complained that he didn’t like the seating. “Where are we going?” “It’s a surprise,” I patted his hand. “You’ll like it. Trust me.” He bent forward, resting his forearms on his knees, and watched the traffic below. “You saw James?” “Yeah.” I craned my head around when we passed Harvey Nics, admiring the gorgeous building where I’d spent so much time…and money. “I gave him a key card to your room. Sorry I didn’t give you a heads up.” I smiled, still staring out the window, and reached for his hand. “Don’t worry about it. I figured you had. I know nothing’s changed with us, Lars, but I also know nothing’s changed with you and James. I understand where your loyalties lie, and I’m not going to be upset if you take steps to make his life easier.” “My loyalty is to both of you. James is like my brother, but you’re family too. I hope you know that,” he added, nudging my hip. “I don’t know if it’s cause you talk so damn much, so statistically you’re more likely to come out with stuff I need to hear, but you’re being really great about saying the right things today, Danish,” I chuckled. He jerked his head up. “You haven’t called me that in forever.” I was as surprised as he was. “Sorry. Unplanned. Do you mind it?” “Nah. I kinda missed it, actually. So, where are we going?” He slouched down in the seat more, picking at a rip in the stitching. “We’re almost there,” I told him, watching the crowds on the street part as the bus slowed through the intersection at Piccadilly Circus. “Are we going to the Hard Rock Café? I hate that place,” he muttered. “No,” I laughed. “Be patient. It’s more unique than that, and the food’s infinitely better.” “Same sort of dumb shit on the walls?” He raised an eyebrow. I thought for a moment. “Not really. The floor’s pretty interesting though.” I told him to sit tight, and two minutes later we hopped off the back of the bus, holding hands so as not to get separated in the sea of people near Trafalgar Square. Snaking through the crowd, we crossed the street to the Strand, and I led him down a small flight of steps just past a tourist stand selling t-shirts and maps. Lars stopped abruptly when we reached the inside, and turned to face me. “What is this?” “Basement of a church,” I smiled. “I guess technically it’s the crypt of a church.” “An old church?” he glanced around, taking in the vaulted ceiling, and then the gravestones under our feet. “1726,” I replied, taking his hand again to lead him to the start of the line for the café. “Ooh, and they have sticky toffee pudding for dessert!” We picked from the selection of hot food, and paid for our purchases before choosing a table in one of the corners, both of our backs to the wall so we could people-watch. For a guy who was frequently in the public eye, Lars was also fond of sitting back and being invisible, or close to it. “This is pretty cool,” he said through a mouthful of roasted potatoes. “Did you come here a lot?” “Yeah. They have live bands sometimes, wine and cheese nights with jazz or acoustic quartets. I used to volunteer in the soup kitchen they run, too. I didn’t know a soul when I moved here, so I figured it would be a good way to meet some people. I also used to spend a lot of time upstairs,” I gestured to the ceiling, meaning the church above, “when I got homesick. It costs a crazy amount to heat and service the church, and at the time, I couldn’t really afford to donate, so I volunteered instead. The soup kitchen actually has one of the best breakfasts in town,” I confided. “Volunteered? Or had to come here for food?” He wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin, looking concerned. “The volunteers got to eat, too,” I assured him. “Although I did take leftovers on occasion. Veggie sausages go a long way in a casserole.” We finished lunch, and I led the way upstairs to the church. Entering through the side stairwell, we stopped in the main entrance, standing silently as we both took in the ornate stained glass, the huge stone columns and the people scattered throughout the pews, heads bowed, in their own private worlds. Lars surreptitiously dropped forty quid into the donation box and put a hand on the small of my back, guiding me forward. Dropping a few coins in the little metal box by the matches, he lit one and held it out to me before lighting one for himself. I lit a single candle and blew out the match, watching as he did the same. “I used to light candles for Cliff,” he murmured. “Never thought I’d be lighting one for his granddaughter.” I leaned against him, hooking my arm through his. “There’s a board at the back where you can leave names requesting prayers for people. I figured maybe I could write her name there.” We left the church a short time later and wandered across the street to the National Gallery. Lars went to traipse around on his own, and settled into one of the leather couches in front of a couple Constables. He was my father’s favourite artist, and I had spent many hours studying the paintings, losing myself in the filmy details of the Hay Wain or Salisbury Cathedral. Lars appeared in front of me several minutes later, breathless. “We gotta go.” I let him pull me up, and followed him as he weaved through a mass of children, his head down. “What’s wrong?” “I may have accidentally started a small stampede,” he said over his shoulder as we took the stairs two at a time. “School trip from Germany. Every one of ‘em’s wearing a Metallica shirt, I swear. I commented to one guy, and the next thing I know the entire group is shrieking like I’m… like I’m-” he was snapping his fingers, trying to complete the sentence. “A famous rock star?” I finished, grinning when he shot me a look. “Run faster!” We shot out the front doors of the gallery and raced down to the square like we were fleeing the scene of a crime. Lars didn’t stop until we’d crossed the street and were inside the gates of St. James Park. Bent at the waist, breathing heavily, he looked up at me, squinting. “I’m getting too old for this shit.” Once we’d recovered, we strolled through the park, the sun warm on our faces, talking and exchanging stories until suddenly we were outside Buckingham Palace. Lars grasped the gates and stared through, shooting me a mischievous glance. “I met her once. The Queen. Pretty sure I made her blush.” I hooted with laughter. “I am so not surprised.” “We should probably head back,” he said, stepping back from the gates. “Got any plans tonight?” I hesitated. “Rob said he wanted to go out somewhere with me – and Kirk – and presumably anyone else who wants to come along. Said I should pick a spot I liked, quiet and low key. And I thought about maybe, um…” He raised an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue. “I still have friends here. I thought about contacting a few of them to meet up. Doesn’t have to be with you guys, I don’t know how low key that would be, but, yeah. I’m thinking about it.” He stooped under some low hanging branches and stepped in behind me as a woman walking five dogs passed us. “What’s stopping you?” “I dunno,” I sighed. “I’m supposed to be here to prove something to James. I want him to know I’m not going anywhere. I’m not sure what it says about me that the thing I most want to do my first night in town is ditch everyone and hang out with old friends.” “Do it,” he said firmly, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “Trust me, it’ll be good if James realizes you’re not going to spend the next four months moping around hotel rooms hoping he’ll wanna hang out. And any friend of yours is welcome wherever we go tonight, sweetheart. Don’t worry about that.” We walked all the way back to the hotel, managing to avoid inciting any more minor riots, and after promising to round up as many of my buddies as I could track down, I left Lars in the lobby, and headed up to my suite to make a few phone calls and then take a nap. Kirk knocked on my door at seven, with the offer of dinner, and I declined, saying I’d catch up with them later. I wanted to ask if James was joining them, and thought better of it. I had, after all, promised to stay out of his way. Ordering room service, I dined on the couch, watching the BBC news. I had just finished a slice of apple tart when the phone rang in my suite. “’lo?” “Hello, you gorgeous creature! How long are you in town and how soon can you get to the Limelight?” I burst out laughing upon hearing Bec’s voice. “Hi, sweetie. Two days, and probably in about twenty minutes.” “Fabulous! I can’t wait to see you. Richard said something about you traveling with a bunch of boys. Bring them with you if you like. The plan for the evening entails Limelight, Fluid, somewhere horrid called Crobar, and then possibly on to Tiger Tiger if everything else is rubbish.” We hung up with plans to meet in an hour, and I hastily changed clothes and swiped on some make up. Texting Lars with details of where to meet if he wanted to come along, I sent the same message to Kirk, and was climbing into a taxi forty minutes later. |
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| Taimi | November 24, 2008, 8:19 pm Post #368 |
Junior OSA Council member
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awesome update! |
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| neonguitarstrings | November 25, 2008, 1:53 am Post #369 |
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Bad Seed
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Great Update ![]() Im addicted to the detail you put into this story . |
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| elena | November 25, 2008, 9:38 am Post #370 |
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Outlaw Torn
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Lars and Charlie had a good time. :horns2 It was realy funny the part with school trip from Germany. :horns2It's cool that she will have funny meetings with friends and Metallica's boys(except James ).I'm curious when she will go out with James. :wacko: I want more!
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| Virtual Bettie | November 27, 2008, 10:12 am Post #371 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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Little slow on my commentary, but new updates how nice. I can see where both James and Charlie are coming from. Her need to prove that she's not going to run out on him, and his need to be alone to think and pull himself together. Course once I said, "I need some space" and my boyfriend took it as ,"i'm breaking up with you in a nice way". |
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| Metalicious | November 28, 2008, 5:27 pm Post #372 |
Blackened
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I made it to all four bars without passing out, but was ready for bed by the time Lars arrived at the last one. He charmed all of my girlfriends, bought several rounds of shots for everyone, saw I was starting to nod off in my chair and dumped me in a black cab. I rolled down the window and stuck my head out the window like a dog, taking deep breaths of the cold night air. Tossing a note at the driver that was probably way more than the actual fare, I staggered up the steps of the hotel and proceeded to go through the revolving door three times until I finally managed to stumble out into the lobby. The bright lights stunned me for a few seconds, and I eventually made it over to the bank of elevators, trying to remember what floor my room was on. Thankfully, there was an employee in the lift when it opened, and he reminded me that the Brompton Suite was on the 8th floor. "Thank you," I smiled sweetly at him, before somehow managing to press all the buttons for floors six through ten. I made a fist with my hand several times. "Coordination's shot," I explained. "Tequila." He grinned at me. "It's no trouble, miss." He ensured I got off on the correct floor, and I steadied myself for a few seconds before slowly making my way down the hall. Swiping my card repeatedly, I swore, loudly, when the card reader remained red. "Need some help?" I shook my head, jigging the handle violently instead. James laid a hand over mine, and took the card from me. "This is your Visa. Where's your key card?" I thought for a moment and then clapped a hand over my mouth. "Behind the bar at Tiger Tiger." He dropped his head, laughing softly. "Oh my God. C'mon. We'll get you another from the front desk." The elevator arrived and I held up a hand in greeting at the clerk. "Hey! What's up!" Realizing I was slurring, I shut up quickly, hoping James would select the lobby button, lest I hit every floor on the way down. Trailing behind him to the front desk, I leaned against the marble counter, trying to keep my eyes open. A large glass of water was placed in front of me, on a paper doily, and I guzzled it in seconds. "Thank you," I whispered to the receptionist who'd given me the water. Taking the key card that she slid across the desk, I palmed it and swiped the hair out of my eyes. "M'ready," I informed James. "Who'd you go out with?" he asked when we were in the lift again. "Friends I used to work with when I lived here. And I think Lars was there." "Oh yeah? I heard you guys spent the day together, too. Something about a gallery and a church." I nodded, tripping a little when we exited the elevator, and he took my arm to steady me. "Yeah. St. Martin in the Fields. I lit..." I took a deep breath, trying to sound less drunk. "I lit a candle. For Caitlin." Tilting my head back, I tried to read his expression. "Is that okay?" I said softly. I didn't tell him that I'd wanted him to be with me, instead of Lars, that I'd wanted to share that moment with him. "It's okay," he nodded. "Of course it's okay." He let go of my arm, opening the door to my suite for me. "Lars said it was really beautiful there. I might try to go by tomorrow." He looked like he had more to say, but he closed his eyes and moved his head slightly, as if he were shaking something off. "I've gotta get to bed. Early start tomorrow." He cupped my cheek briefly, and went down the hall to his room. I shut the door, toed off my heels and padded over to the bed where I collapsed with all my clothes and make up on. "Get up," I commanded myself. "Get up and wash your face and brush your teeth and put your pjs on." I lay completely still, wondering if by sheer force of will, I might be able to do all that without actually moving. "Okay, just get up and wash your face." I stayed exactly where I was. "Take your dress off. You don't even have to get off the bed. Come ON!" Completely ignoring myself, I pulled the duvet over my head and went to sleep. |
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| Metalicious | November 28, 2008, 5:28 pm Post #373 |
Blackened
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"My mouth feels like cotton wool," I complained to Kirk over breakfast the next morning. "What's on the agenda for you today?" He sipped at his tea, the white bone china in stark contrast against his dark skin. "Interviews, sound check, rehearsal, meet and greet, warm up, show. I've got," he glanced at his watch, "two more hours of free time and then I'm booked. What are you up to today? Other than recovering?" I smiled. "I'm not too hung over, just a little tired. I think I'll go for a run later-" I stopped talking when he shot me a look. "It's okay. I'm allowed." I rolled my eyes when he merely shrugged one shoulder. "Anyway, yeah. Running, and maybe some shopping, and then I'm gonna try to catch up on some emails." "Are you coming to the gig tonight?" I bit my lip. "No. I was going to. I really wanna see you guys, but I think I should try to avoid hitting every gig, and I'd rather see tomorrow's club show than tonight in the arena. Plus, I thought I'd be better at giving James space, and as it turns out..." I trailed off. "Not so easy?" Kirk smiled. "He's everywhere! As he should be," I added quickly. "But as much as I want to see you play tonight, I think the least I can do is give him a night away from me." I looked down. "That sounds so patronizing." "It doesn't. I think it's a good idea, anyway. The first show's always pretty intense. I mean, they all are, but we've been off for so long, it'll be good if he can have his head fully in the game." "Yeah. And tomorrow night I can just sneak in the back and watch. It's at the Astoria?" I was familiar with the venue from before. Dirty and intimate was how I thought of it. It held only two thousand people, maximum, and it was a great choice for a surprise concert. The guys had leaked news of the show two days previously and it had sold out in under two hours. "Yup. Just make sure you pick up a security pass for after." I nodded. “Will do.” I spent the evening with friends, at Bec’s flat, catching up on what everyone had been up to since I moved away, and fielding numerous questions about how I’d met the band and what the hell I was doing on tour with them. “It’s complicated,” I kept saying, causing everyone to roll their eyes and pelt me wit more questions. Hailing a taxi shortly after midnight, I received a text from Lars, saying I should come out. I texted back, asking how the concert was, and received a response full of expletives and exclamation marks, which I took to be a positive thing. I replied to explain that I was too tired to go out, but that I’d see him the next day. I’d just hit send, when the taxi pulled up to the hotel, and I saw Lars, James, and Steve standing outside, apparently waiting for a cab. “Ta dah,” I said grandly, stepping out of the taxi. “Look what I brought!” Grinning, Lars signaled to the driver that they’d be a moment, and kissed me hello. Steve did, too, which made it a little awkward when James did not. “Sure you don’t wanna come out? We’re not staying long,” Lars assured me. “No, I’m wiped. I need a good night’s sleep so I can have enough energy for tomorrow night’s show.” James’ head whipped around. “You’re coming to that one?” I nodded slowly. “Yeah. The Astoria? I wouldn’t miss it.” The tickets had sold out in minutes, and I knew it was going to be a killer show. Small crowds were always fun. He said nothing, ducking into the cab. Lars looked at me, rolling his eyes. “Have a good sleep, sweetheart. We’ll see you tomorrow.” He leaned in to kiss my cheek and murmured, “He’s just being silly.” I nodded, stepping back from the curb, waving as they drove away. ********************************************************* “The fuck do you mean, I can’t go?” I shoved Lars away, and started pacing my room angrily. He dropped onto the couch, rubbing a face over his hands. “Charlie-” “No. You know what? Never mind. It’s fine,” I hissed. “If he doesn’t want me there, I won’t go. I’ll stay in the hotel room. Is that what he wants? For me to be all by myself in my room, like some school kid who got grounded?” I desperately wanted something to kick, and settled for throwing pillows. It wasn’t nearly as satisfying. “Fuck!” “I understand why you’re upset,” he said softly, getting up to pull me into a hug. “But there’s nothing I can do. He specifically asked that you not be at the Astoria. Sweetie, he’s not exactly having an easy go of it right now. If he says he needs this…” I closed my eyes, all the fight sliding out of me. “Then we need to respect that. I know. I just really wanted to go.” He ran a hand over my hair, making soothing noises and rubbing my back. “I know, honey.” “Everybody else gets to go,” I pouted. He chuckled. “I know. It’s not fair. But it’s what he needs. And I know you love him, and you’ll do whatever it takes for him to get through all this.” Sighing, I wriggled out of Lars’ embrace and pulled a bottle of water from the mini fridge. “I do. I will. I’m not gonna pretend to understand why me staying at the hotel makes his life easier, but whatever. I won’t go.” He tilted my chin up, his green eyes searching mine. “Promise me?” “I promise,” I said softly. Kissing my temple, he thanked me and turned to leave. “Lars?” He turned again, waiting for me to continue. “Have a good show.” He nodded, and let himself out, closing the door behind him. Wandering around my suite, calling James all the names I could think of, I rang up the two friends I’d planned to go to the Astoria with and claimed I was sick, and unable to attend. Then I called the concierge and asked if they could rustle up a delivery from Busaba, my favourite Thai place in London, and then I flicked through all the pay per view channels and settled on a movie I hadn’t seen before. By eleven p.m., I was pacing the room, and nothing could hold my attention. I finally turned on the radio for a distraction, and pulled out my pajamas, wondering if I should just try to go to sleep. There was a frantic knock at my door just as I was tugging off my shirt, and I pulled it back on, opening the door to find one of the off-duty crew guys with his fist primed to knock again. “Hey-” I started to greet him, only to have him push past me, and turn on the t.v. ITV was having a live feed of an aerial view shot from a helicopter above Tottenham Court Road. There were people streaming out into a nearby street, and the reporter in the helicopter was fading in and out, her voice crackling. All I heard was “Metallica”, “accident” and “lead singer”. I was out the door before I could hear any more. |
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| Taimi | November 28, 2008, 10:45 pm Post #374 |
Junior OSA Council member
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oh shit! what just happened? James?????? |
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| elena | November 29, 2008, 6:41 am Post #375 |
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Outlaw Torn
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What happened??????????? Please write as soon as you can!
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:horns2
).I'm curious when she will go out with James. :wacko:

8:39 PM Jul 10