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| Another Sorrow, Another Breath; Lars/ James, early Metallica | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: November 13, 2009, 5:44 pm (14,625 Views) | |
| namenlos | November 13, 2009, 5:44 pm Post #1 |
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The Daft To Your Punk
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Hello again, girls! I come bearing another fic! This one should please all you Lars fans out there, as I finally decided it was high time I wrote a story starring Lars. And I'm challenging myself, writing in Lars' point of view. I hope you like it! “Another Sorrow, Another Breath” Starring Lars and James Winter, 1983 Lars’ POV The unfolded scrap of paper fluttered from my hand to the floor like a wounded butterfly. Very fitting description, as my heart felt exactly the same. The name scribbled below the phone number pierced my heart like a dagger. Dave Mustaine. I took a deep breath and picked up the small piece of paper, my eyes stinging with tears as I looked at it one more time. I quickly folded it back up and left the bedroom, calling out my lover’s name. “James? James!” I yelled. Where the fuck was he? He finally emerged from the bathroom, exhaling loudly at the experience he’d just had within the tiny room. “What’s up, Larsy, my boy?” he asked jubilantly. “Why the fock do you have --” I slapped the paper scrap hard against James’ chest for emphasis. “this?!?” The small paper fell to the floor like a completely dead butterfly this time, once again matching the way I was feeling. James bent down to pick it up and unfolded it slowly, almost as if he already knew what it was. The tears welling up in my eyes threatened to spill over, as I watched all of the color drain from James’ face. “Where did you get this?” James asked softly. “From your guitar case, James! Your guitar case! Not Cliff’s! And definitely not Kirk’s! Yours!!!” I spat that last word out like a curse, finally feeling my tears as they rolled hotly down my face. “What the fuck were you doing in my guitar case?” James asked me, his voice straining, as he obviously tried to keep his rage in check. “Kirk needed another strap, as his old one finally broke… oh, why does it even matter, James?!” I shrieked angrily. “Why do you have Dave’s phone number?!” James couldn’t even look at me. He just kept staring at the floor. “You wouldn’t understand,” he finally said quietly. I stormed off back into the bedroom, slamming the door behind me. I grabbed the bottle of gin sitting on the nightstand next to the bed, opened it, and took a huge drink. I winced as the harsh liquid burned its trail from my lips all the way down to the bottom of my belly. And there it sat, burning like fire, matching the thoughts running through my head, the feelings within my heart. Damn you, James. |
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| Mrs Ratfield | November 13, 2009, 8:14 pm Post #2 |
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Haifisch
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OMG this is soooo touching Poor Lars ![]() I love that POV style, and I love your colorful expressions (the wounded and completely dead butterfly, for example). I'm so curious to know what will happen next - please continue
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| namenlos | November 14, 2009, 4:24 am Post #3 |
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The Daft To Your Punk
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Thanks for your reply, Ina! It means the world to me! ![]() Too bad the other 40+ viewers couldn't ne bothered to leave a reply. <_< But who cares?!? I write this shit for me, anyways. ![]() Pt. 2 I heard a light knock, followed by the bedroom door slowly creaking open, but I didn’t bother to turn around and look. “Go away James! I don’t wanna talk to you!” I called out. What was that dick wad doing knocking on his own bedroom door, anyway? I heard a pair of shuffling feet, and the soft click of the door closing quietly. “It’s Cliff, man… not James. Sorry to bug ya, man… but do ya got a smoke?” Cliff drawled, his slow deliberate way of speaking giving away his semi-drugged state. “Sure, man,” I practically whispered, grabbing a cigarette out of my pack of Marlboros and handing it to Cliff. Cliff gratefully took the smoke and lit it up, seating himself on James’ bed, which was opposite to mine. He took a long drag and exhaled, flicking his ashes into the empty beer bottle on the nightstand. After taking another drag, Cliff finally spoke. “You’re not speaking to James, then?” he carefully asked me, reaching for the bottle of gin. He took a swig and handed the bottle back to me. I took a good, long pull from it, and lit up a cigarette of my own before I finally replied. “I found Dave’s phone number in his guitar case,” I admitted. “No shit?” Cliff asked, taking another drag. “So…” Cliff said slowly, not really sure what to say next. “I can’t prove anything,” I interjected, flicking my ashes into the beer bottle. “And he won’t tell me why he’s got it.” Cliff quietly finished his cigarette and dropped the butt into the beer bottle. It extinguished with an audible hiss, the filter sucking up the small amount of remaining beer. “Shit, man,” Cliff said leisurely, obviously stoned, and bordering on drunk. “If that fucker’s cheating on you, man…” Cliff said slowly, shaking a finger at me. I ran my fingers through my hair and slowly shook my head, an attempt to shake the thoughts from my head and keep myself from crying. It didn’t work. Cliff looked on in sympathy, his own eyes welling up with tears, before finally sitting next to me and draping his long arm around my shoulders. We sat like that for a long while, before Cliff finally broke the silence, pulling away and looking at me with that shit-eating grin of his. “Want me to kick his ass for ya?” |
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| Mihaella_Metallica | November 14, 2009, 6:14 am Post #4 |
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Metallica junkie
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'Lars looked at Cliff to see if he was serious. And he was.... "Kick his ass please...." Lars said.' Sorry for the rant. Hey, I like it so far. I love my drama queen Lars....and even better: it's early Metallica. I wanna read some more
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| Wishful | November 14, 2009, 7:38 am Post #5 |
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Cliff and Lars Lover
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Weeeeeeee I likey, my poor Larsy glad he's got Cliff to 'kick James' ass'
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| Oh Hell | November 14, 2009, 9:22 am Post #6 |
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Outlaw Torn
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Awww... poor Lars He better not be cheating on him with Dave or imma be sick. Really like it so far!
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| DonutRamone | November 14, 2009, 10:52 am Post #7 |
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Horror Hostess with the Most(est)
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james had better not be cheatin with dave or i'll go kick his ass D=< |
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| namenlos | November 14, 2009, 12:55 pm Post #8 |
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The Daft To Your Punk
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Wow, finally I get some replies! Thanks! Pt. 3 I was sitting dejectedly at the tiny, garish yellow table in our too-small kitchen, hunched over a steaming hot cup of coffee when James walked in. He saw me sitting there and immediately stopped dead in his tracks. I ignored him, got up, and topped off my coffee mug before I turned and walked away, leaving him standing there dumbly. I turned on the TV, sat down on our ugly, lumpy brown couch, and absently stared at the screen. “Lars…” began James, joining me in our cramped living room. He looked sad and hurt, but I’d be damned if I was gonna give him the pleasure of playing me like that. “Go away,” I muttered, focusing on the steam rising from my coffee mug. It danced and swirled about, the heat accompanying it totally oblivious the chill I was giving off. “You’re keeping Dave waiting,” I spat. I took a tiny sip of the scorching hot coffee and set it down on the cluttered coffee table in front of me. There were four joints laying there next to where I’d set my mug, a sign that Cliff had already been up. It was his morning ritual: roll five joints for the day, smoke one, and then go back to bed. James ignored my harsh statement and sat down next to me, clearing his throat. He chugged about half of the beer in his hand before he finally spoke. “I’m really sorry, Lars,” he started. “Dave called me about a week after we kicked him out, and gave me his phone number. Said he wanted us to still be friends--” “Oh, he’s just trying to get into your pants, James, you know that!” I quarreled. I sighed. He tried to get into everyone’s pants, that whore. That’s probably why he had it in for me. I’d always refused the red-headed bitch. But why was he still pursuing James, then? Surely James had refused him, too? Unless-- “I never called him back,” James stated flatly, piercing my wandering thoughts. “Then why--” “That’s the part you won’t understand,” James interrupted, hanging his head. Then he immediately stood up and walked calmly away, leaving me with my mind reeling. “James -- wait!” I called. “What--” It was too late. James was already gone out the front door. |
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| Oh Hell | November 14, 2009, 1:09 pm Post #9 |
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Outlaw Torn
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Oooh understand what? Hookeded.
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| Mihaella_Metallica | November 14, 2009, 1:17 pm Post #10 |
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Metallica junkie
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Oh, now James is the drama queen. What is there to understand, James?
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| Cliff Burton Lover... | November 14, 2009, 1:46 pm Post #11 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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I want to know what Lars can't understand........I need to know it!!!!!!!! |
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| Wishful | November 14, 2009, 2:24 pm Post #12 |
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Cliff and Lars Lover
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Oooo okay what won't lars understand? the plot thickens |
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| DonutRamone | November 14, 2009, 2:38 pm Post #13 |
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Horror Hostess with the Most(est)
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you have me hooked Hon!!! ooh whys james... LARS |
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| namenlos | November 14, 2009, 6:14 pm Post #14 |
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The Daft To Your Punk
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Thanks for all of the comments, girls... and please don't hate me for this next one! Pt. 4 James’ POV It only happened one time… I said to myself, walking up to the pay phone. But Dave had brought out a side of me that… no one else could possibly understand… My hand shook as I dropped the coins into the payphone, the metallic clinks piercing my confused thoughts. My forefinger lingered on the coin-return lever for a few seconds, as I’d almost changed my mind. I finally took a deep breath and looked at the small crumpled paper I’d shoved deep into my pocket earlier. It was a Los Angeles number. My heart pounded fiercely as I dialed the ten digits, beads of nervous sweat forming on my forehead as I listened to the rings. Two… three… four… I’d almost given up when Dave’s voice came booming from the other end of the line after the fifth ring. “Who the fuck is this, and what the fuck do you want?” Dave bellowed into the phone. I gulped, feeling terror rip through my chest. “Uh, it’s me… James.” “Oh, hey!” Dave’s voice immediately softened upon hearing mine. “It’s about time you called, asshole!” Dave teased. “How long’s it been, now… seven, eight months? What took you so long?” “Eh, well…” I began meekly. “Things were going good for--” I gulped. “Lars and I. I didn’t want to ruin it.” “Ah,” said Dave knowingly. “I see. You two still getting on then, or…?” “We had a fight,” I admitted. “Lars, he… well, he found your phone number in my guitar case--” “And now you’re running to me, is that it?” Dave asked coldly. I took a deep breath. “I just need a friend right now, Dave. Someone who isn’t gonna take Lars’ side.” Dave remained silent. He probably thought I was calling him to hook up. And to be perfectly honest, I wasn’t sure if that’s what I was doing or not. “Just… give me a chance.” I pleaded. I could almost hear Dave sneering. “So, what are you doing tonight?” he asked provocatively. I gulped, not sure what I was getting myself into. “Uh… seeing you, I hope.” Dave moaned breathlessly. “Can you come over now?” My heart leapt. “Where do you live?” |
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| Oh Hell | November 14, 2009, 6:33 pm Post #15 |
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Outlaw Torn
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No. NO. NO! BAD JAMES! If he's gonna get with Dave, I'm imagining Kirk in Dave's position. <_< |
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This one should please all you Lars fans out there, as I finally decided it was high time I wrote a story starring Lars. And I'm challenging myself, writing in Lars' point of view. I hope you like it!










4:49 AM Jul 11