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Wherever I Belong...; Metallica AU with a twist... James/OFC, Kirk/OFC
Topic Started: January 24, 2010, 3:50 pm (46,589 Views)
Kimmi
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Outlaw Torn
[ * ]
This is why I didn't cry my eyes out after the last chapter... I knew she'd be meeting James in the future world at some point... well, it was Cliff this time, but where's Cliff, there's James. :D
Or... was this just a teaser... ? :unsure:
Thanks Olya ! :dance
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metalgal4life
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For liberty ...and justice for all!!
[ * ]
Yay!! So there's still a chance she'll be with James!! :D I would've thought Cliff would think Alex was crazy, I know I did!! :lol:
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Auluna Raie
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Shark-Tastic!
[ * ]
Woot! Cliff, Cliff, he's our man!
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Olyamet
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Jäger.....

Thanks for the comments girls!
Love you!
:heart: :heart: :heart:










XVII.



Somewhere in 1988...




(Alex's POV)



After my ancient world closed up for me forever, I had no choice but continue my life in modern times with a memory of another me. Meg and I went to the Europe, and all the countries were where they were suppose to be. History was back to normal. Fucking yay! That trip brought my pain to its highest point and I was glad when it was over. Seeing changes in the places that were so fresh in my memory reminded me of how far in the past I had left my happiness and my love.

When we came back I slowly slid into depression, losing interest in everything. I have no idea how I managed to graduate college with surprisingly high grades, despite the fact that history become too painful of a subject for me.

A year and a half had passed in complete fog of me living on autopilot. I just didn't know what to do with myself. I went through stages of anger and despair, before returning to depression. A few times I even thought of ending my pain, just sleeping away after taking some pills, but that plan never fully formed in my mind, I guess somewhere in my consciousness I knew my death would not bring James back to me.

I tried to find some meaning for this life, I jumped from one dangerous hobby to another. Somehow, the thrill of a moment where I was close to death made me feel more alive. Meg was busy with her father, taking photography more seriously and planning to make a career out of it. She always knew what she want, in both worlds....

Meg pulled me out for a few drinks now and then, trying to find me a boyfriend, but I wasn't interested. I couldn't even think of dating anyone, my heart was forever belong to a man from an ancient world. Was I crazy? Maybe, but I couldn't forget him.

I never told Meg about my other life or of what happened to me. What was I supposed to tell her? Hey you know, I'm really not the girl you knew all this time, not the one you grew up with, although somehow I have her memories... it's too complicated, but really I'm from a thousand years ago. I fell in love with a viking warrior in my world and I'm still in love with him. That sounded crazy even for me. I never figured out how or why all this happened, all I knew, it wasn't a dream. I really was there, grew up there and somehow here too... I had two lives, both mine... both vivid and real.

Some parts of this life were the same, my parents were dead, my brother was an ass, and Meg was my best friend. Others were oh-so-different. Both lives were mixed in my mind as if I lived them both, but as time passed by, the memory of ancient world somewhat dulled down, all of it except for memory of James. His blue eyes were calling to me from the past, making my heart bleed, grieving for my lost love.

In the middle of the spring of eighty-seven Meg's father brought me a few articles from foreign magazines that were using his pictures, asking me to translate them, and after that he got me a job as an understudy of the translator for one of the magazines he was working with. It was called The Rolling Stone magazine and everyone was thrilled with this new job, everyone but me.

The last year I spent most of my days in the basement of a huge building, buried in paperwork only to come back home and cry myself to sleep with fade hope, and waking up every morning a little more dead inside.

One day I was asked to clean the shelve with old magazines, as I pulled the first pack down, one of them slid out of my hands, dropping to the floor, and opening in the middle. On the bottom of the page there was a picture of a long haired guy. Why did he looks so familiar? I picked it up, looking closer at the page and my eyes read into the words under the picture.

“In September 1986, while riding on their tour bus to Stockholm, Sweden, their next tour stop, the band's bus had an accident, flipped on its side and killed Cliff Burton instantly.”

Cliff Burton... Cliff... I looked at the picture. Cliff! He was the guy outside the bar who was nice to me on the worst day of my life, the day I lost James forever. Oh, no! He's dead? My eyes returned to the date. September 1986... it was almost two years ago... he died a few months after our meeting... The memory of that day ran through my mind and I sat down, feeling tears dropping out of my eyes and onto the magazine in my hands. I looked down at the picture of Cliff.

“You said this world is not so bad, but look at you, you left it behind... Rest in peace Cliff... wherever you are.”



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Oh Hell
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Gonna lurk at the funeral?!
Send a sympathy card?
Get a reply back?
y/y?
:biggrin
Sad that an event like Cliff's death could well bring her back to James.
:(
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Olyamet
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Jäger.....

Oh Hell
Mar 22 2010, 10:06 AM
Gonna lurk at the funeral?!
Send a sympathy card?
Get a reply back?
y/y?
:biggrin
Sad that an event like Cliff's death could well bring her back to James.
:(

Nope, she found old magazine. It's 1988 now.
Sorry...
But I has a plan. :biggrin
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Kitty
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Frantic
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I cannot wait to see what your plan is, maybe something about James and Alex meeting again in the present? :biggrin
Thanks for the update, more please! :heart:
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elena
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When she she will meet James in real time? :D
Love your story! :heart:
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Kimmi
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Aww, poor Alex.
She really needs to find James again in the future world.
She will... won't she ? :biggrin
Working for Rolling Stone magazine... that's a connection. :rolleyes:
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namenlos
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The Daft To Your Punk
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Yep. She's definitely gonna find James again. :D
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elena
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It's gonna be an upadate soon? :P Please! :heart:
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Olyamet
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Jäger.....

elena
Mar 29 2010, 01:02 PM
It's gonna be an upadate soon? :P Please! :heart:

Sorry.
I'm trying to work on it, but other story completely occupied my mind.
I promise to have update some time, hoping soonish...
:biggrin
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elena
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olyamet
Mar 29 2010, 11:05 AM
Sorry.
I'm trying to work on it, but other story completely occupied my mind.
I promise to have update some time, hoping soonish...
:biggrin

Take your time! :wink Thank you! :horns2
The other story is great.
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MetalSanta
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Imitations are pale...
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OH I MISSED THIS STORY !!!

The last two chapters were great, Olya !!!
I really want you to continue this story, cause it's highly addictive...

Please please please !!! :bow
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Olyamet
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Jäger.....

Ok girls, sorry it took so long.
Thnk you all for been patient!
:heart: :heart: :heart:

More.











XVIII




(Meg's POV)



I dropped the heavy bag on the floor and my father turned to me with an annoyed look.

“There is very fragile content in that bag, you have to be more careful.”

“Dad, everything is packed with foam, every lens, every light, nothing will break.”

“You chose this profession, I didn't ask you to do it. Those are your tools. Even a little scratch will ruin your work. You have to be more careful.” He turned back to the contents of his bag, pulling multiple cameras out.

I couldn't help it and stuck my tongue out at him. We'd spent all morning in LA working with Van Halen. The photo shoot session was for the cover of the upcoming July issue of Rolling Stone, one of the magazines he worked for. In total, we got four full films, all this for a few photos for an article and one for the cover.

He let me use one whole film by myself as an addition to his three. Kind of a test, to see how I could handle this job. He was thinking of letting me start my own projects under his name, but wanted to make sure I was worthy. He was well known in the photography world, he had worked with many celebrities, so if my name was to be added to his, he wanted absolute perfection from me.

I did my best, trying to ignore the guys from the band, who were joking around, inviting me for drinks after the photo shoot. I was all professional and I think my father acknowledged that, but he just couldn't help to pick at something. Yes, I dropped the fucking bag, it was heavy and my arms hurt after holding and moving the lights around all morning. And not one good word! He turned to me with a smile, as if he'd read my thoughts.

“You did good, let's see what came out of all of this.”

A small pat on the back before he'll go over every picture I took, pointing out the flaws in positioning the lights and wrong angles. I know he did that for my own good, but sometimes he was too critical of my work. I picked up my bag and pulled my camera out, following him to the dark room.

My father's official office and home was in New York, but he rented a house in San Francisco, just because he wanted to be closer to me. But with his traveling, he was rarely home, his work was his life, this was one of the reasons my mother had left him.

I stayed with my mother after the divorce, but reconnected with my father when I was sixteen. He'd just come back from South Africa with a load of amazing pictures and I got infected with the disease called photography.

He taught me all he knew and after five years of hard work, I was so proud when he added a few of my works to his masterpieces on the walls and ask me if I would consider becoming a pro. That was the greatest sign of appreciation.

As much as I wanted to just drop onto the couch and rest, I knew we needed to finish our work. My father had an appointment later with a local metal band and he had no time to spare. I had plans too, I planned a party, my birthday party.

I sighed, looking at my father's back in the red light of the dark room. I wondered if he'd forgot about it, he hadn't mentioned it once all day. No 'happy birthday baby' no present, nothing. My father at his best, nothing existed except his work.

Oh well, at least I knew Alex was at home, getting everything ready, I felt so guilty leaving her to do all that we'd planned alone. My father had called late last night and just announced to me about this job, he mentioned he'd let me do a shoot of my own film, and I couldn't say no.

I was on pins and needles, waiting for the films to develop, you be surprised how ten minutes could turn into the longest, slowest moving time ever. Come on! I helped my father pull the films out, rinsed them, and hung them to dry. My hands were itching to look through my film, but I held myself. I'd see it when it was ready, I just hoped there was at least a few good shots.

When the films were cut and ready to be reviewed, my father tuned the light on and pulled a chair for me in front of his working table. I held my breath, time of truth. He skipped the few first shots and stopped on one with a band close up.

“Okay, tell me what you think of this one.” I looked at him with a surprised face, he was letting me do that? That was new.... I looked back at the picture.

“I used the right position of the camera, but wrong light position. The lights needed to be slightly to the left and lower, so there's no shadows on the close up faces. So this one is a no go.”

He turned to the next image. “How about this one?”

“This is the one is taken after I moved the lights to a proper place, but Eddie and David both moved their heads. Same, no go.”

After looking and criticizing a few more shots, I started to lose hope. Did I take any pictures that were up to standards? He moved the film in the projector and the next picture appeared in the viewer. I studied it very carefully, but couldn't see any flaws.

“All the band members have their eyes on the camera, no shadows... I would keep this one.” I looked back at my father, awaiting his verdict.

“This is a good shot.” His eyes were scanning the picture.

“Thank you!” His few simple words made me smile.

We went through the whole film and I found at least four more good shots, and that was with me being over critical of myself. I picked at every little imperfection. My father stood up and turned to me and I held my breath.

“Overall, you did a good job. I'll send a few of your shots with mine to band and an editor. Congratulations, you're officially working under my name, as a partner.” He smiled.

“But... I only got five shots from the whole film... and what if the band and editor approve them...” I couldn't believe he was making me a partner. He took my film out of the viewer and turned back to me.

“That is why you use four or more films on one shoot. You're the most strict critic of your work, I counted nine that were exceptional.”

“Dad, thank you!” I hugged him and he kissed my forehead.

“Now you can work on your own. Ready?”

“You mean you already have something in mind?” My eyes widened, I could work on my own... oh my God!

“That band, Metallica, they're looking for a photographer to do a local photo shoot. I'm leaving for London next week, so this will be your project, your contract.” He kissed my forehead one more time.”Happy birthday baby!”

“This is the best birthday present ever! I love you!” My heart was jumping in my chest, my hands were shaking. My own project!!! Oh.. God, please don't let me screw this up.



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