End Of Passion Play - {James Hetfield/Metallica}

Chapter 8 | Half Past Twelve

I climbed into bed with James, exhausted from the eventful day we'd just had. I let my head hit the cold pillow.
Then the phone on the nightstand rang. "Who the fuck calls at this time of night?!" I complained.

"Don't answer it." James replied, lightly gripping my wrist. "Please, babe. I just want you right now.".

I shot him a guilty look. "I should, it might be my dad.". I picked up the phone. "Hello?" I answered.

"Hi, Sarah.".

"Oh, hi, dad.".

"How's the tour going?".

"Uh… good.".

"Good? Hmm, that's good to hear. Um, I heard you threw up on the audience.".

"Wait, what?!" I nearly shouted, getting out of bed and going over to the window.

"Yeah. Word gets around about stuff like that  Be honest, did it have to do with alcohol?".

I bit my inner lip, my head pounding with the impulse to just tell him the truth. "No, I just… got sick.".

"Oh, really?".

"Yeah.".

I bit my tongue as I awaited my dad's response, hearing him sigh through the phone. I knew that sigh, and it was never good. "Sarah?" he asked.

"Y-y-yeah?" I answered.

"You're a bad liar.".

I sighed, about to break down and cry. I knew I was a bad liar, and I shouldn't've lied. I should've known he'd see right through. "I'm sorry! Yes, I was drunk!".

"You must've been pretty drunk for that to happen, weren't you, Sarah? Cause I know what you think about alcohol. You think people who drink it are bad.".

"What? No! I just don't ever want to be what mom was! And now I'm scared that I'm turning into her!".

"What do you mean, Sarah? What do you mean 'turning into her'?" my dad asked.

Oh, god. I thought. I couldn't let him know about what I was going through. He'd be so disappointed in me, and that was the last thing I wanted.

"Never mind." I finally said.

"No, Sarah, tell me!" he demanded. "Are you doing drugs?".

"Okay, dad, I'm an adult. I can do whatever I want, okay?" I replied, trying to keep my cool. I knew that if he pushed me too much, I'd end up exploding.

"You'd better not be doing drugs! I'm beginning to wonder if you're fit to be a mom!".

"Dad!". My vision blurred and tears started rapidly streaming down my cheeks. I couldn't believe he said that!

"I'm beginning to think that you and James aren't going to be good parents. I know he's an alcoholic, and god only knows what the hell you're doing!" my dad told me.

"Dad, what happened to us? Remember when you were the only person I trusted? Remember when mom left us, a-a-and when I told you every goddamn thing about me!".

"Sarah, you're obviously making some bad choices.".

"Well, maybe I am!" I shouted. "But that doesn't make me a bad person!".

"I wish you wouldn't've ever gotten with James. He's got you hooked on all sorts of crap now, hey?".

"No! No, dad! Stop!". I shook with tears and wiped my eyes, feeling so betrayed. "It's not his fault, okay? My alcohol problem is my fault.".

"You'd better fix it.".

"You don't understand. I… I have the same problems mom had. I have the same addictive personality.". I sighed, twisting the cord around my finger. "Remember when we talked about this, all those years back?" I asked. "You probably don't.".

"You're right. I don't." my dad replied bluntly.

"Of course you don't." I sighed, a warm stream of tears running down my cheeks.

"Do you think I can remember a conversation from ten plus years ago?".

"No, dad, I don't. Well, I used to. But now I don't.". I looked at James, his blue eyes wide with compassion and confusion. "I have to go now.".

"Control yourself, behave yourself. That's all I have to say. Bye.".

"Bye, dad. Love-". I heard the click of the phone hanging up. "You.". I dropped the phone out of my hand and dropped to the floor on my knees.

"Babe, what happened?" James asked, wrapping his arms around me.

"My dad hates me!" I choked out.

He sighed and pulled me onto his lap. I couldn't stop crying because my dad had told me what I feared I was going to hear.

I sniffled and wiped my eyes. "He also… he also s-s-said something about you." I told James.

"What did he say?" James asked.

"Th-that we aren't good enough to be parents… b-b-because you're an alcoholic!" I said, looking up into his eyes. "A-and he knows I-I'm one too!".

"How does he know?".

"I dunno, he somehow heard about me puking on the audience!".

"Oh, god." James sighed. I rested my head on his chest and he kissed the top of my head. "I'm sorry, Sarah. I'm so sorry.".

"No, James, don't be. It's his fucking fault! I'm so fucking pissed at him right now!". I let out a sob, thinking about the days when my dad was my favorite person in the world. The days when my mom neglected me, and I began to hate her, and that hatred brought me and my dad closer together.

"Sometimes I wonder what would've happened if I had stayed with him." I sighed, wiping my eyes. "If I hadn't run off when I was sixteen and become a hooker.".

"Well, you wouldn't be here." James replied. "So, I'm glad you didn't stay with him.".

I smiled at his sweet words, then leaned up and kissed him. We broke apart slowly, and stared into each other's eyes.

"What?" he whispered.

I love you. I thought. "Nothing." I sighed. "I'm just… so glad you're in my life, James. I seriously have no fucking clue what I'd do without you.".

He smiled and gave me another kiss. "I don't know what I'd do without you, either, babe.".

I let out a huge yawn. "Tired?" James asked me.

"Yeah." I replied.

We got back into bed and turned off the lights. It was already 12:30 and we'd had a long day. We were on the road for a few hours, then we went out for dinner, and we played a show that night, too.

But I guess that James was even more tired than me, because he fell asleep first.
He snored and I snuggled up to him, planting a kiss on his forehead.

"I love you." I whispered quietly.