Little Angelfuck ☆ Kirk Hammett

xxi. whiskey notes

November, 18th, 1983

Rocket Bar, Somewhere in L.A

10:34 p.m

I paced back and forth with my guitar, playing around on the fretboard giving my fingers something to do to distract myself from the anxiety of going on stage and having to solo with him. After making sure I was okay, David sent me up the stairs. He was so excited for the Europe and Japan tours, wanting to leave the country so terribly.

I jumped up the stage stairs with my white soloist, starting my solo with glee as the crowd roared and cheered. The solo came out like music to my ears, so naturally, as easy as a breath in and out. Kirk started his solo, and we never made eye contact, but headbanged and nodded together as it's simple stage etiquette for a thrash show in California.

Everytime one of us did a little diddle solo, we'd try one one-up the other. It got into a heated match as everyone waited for what would happen next. Kirk finished up the solo with a roaring wah and whammy bar combo, finishing the song with a blast. As we thanked the crowd, James slipped his hand around my waist, waving the other at the people who came to see us perform. His hand gripped and tightened everytime I'd say something or move too much, and I know he was watching. I could feel his eyes from across the stage, burning into my skin that was being touched by another, and he couldn't stop it.

Kirk was first off stage, heading straight for the showers. James let me down some corridors until we were lost, leaning against one of the posters from tonight, looking for any clue to where we were.

"Welp, guess we're lost together." He shook his blonde hair, sighing. He stood, leaning into me and rather cornering me into the wall. He looked down at me and I couldn't help but feeling like getting back at Kirk, to get over him with a good time with James. But I couldn't. No matter how much my body craved being touched or how much time passed, I couldn't get the idea of doing anything with James to agree with my conscious. I couldn't when the only one I wanted was the one that didn't want me.

-

The last official day of the tour. I put on my ripped jeans, and threw on a Iron Maiden shirt, the third outfit change was when I decided to give up on a good outfit for the occasion. There were going to be many photographers there, 3 000 souls just going for our music. It was incredible. I thought about how happy little me would be if she could see me now. I hadn't talked to Kirk for two days, nor has he talked to me. We both knew each other was aware of the other's existence, but chose to forget it, and the tension in the bands were building. Everyone felt so awkward including one of us in a conversation because the other one wouldn't participate.

No one could stop both of our excitement on the bus on the way to the venue, not even a nasty breakup. Everyone was downing beers and shots and anxiously awaiting this set.

This would be the biggest gig of my life, I couldn't help but mute the anxiety with weed, cigs and alcohol. The father, son and holy spirit.

I sat by the stage door, viciously making sure my guitar was in tune, the twanging of notes repeatedly being plucked as I turned the tuning pegs left and right, finding the perfect tuning. Charlie and Don huddled around me, as we hyped up for the game like people in sports. "Right guys. Last show of the tour. Don't fuck it up. Be amazing." Charlie smiled, sipping aggressively on a beer.

"You got that fucking right," Don laughed, stepping out his cigarette. Our roadie announced it was time to go, and he opened the stage door. We ran out onto the dark stage, listening the cheering already coming from the crowd in amazement. We waited in silence, and with the opening note to our first song on the set, the lights came on, spotlights, lights of blue, purple, green, yellow, stage lights, real stage lights. I felt like Led Zeppelin or The Beatles, like a real rockstar.

We teased the next song, playing a single second of the into and stopping, the crowd cheering and booing each time. We laughed and had the best time ever. And it was actually the same when I went with Metallica. I caught Kirk watching me, but I liked it. He looked infatuated, lustful, but I could see the pleading in his eyes, not sure what for. He ruined it. If you want to keep something you chase after it and don't go after something else.

But played we did, smiling and cheering, harmonizing on eachothers tapping. It was the best show either band ever played at that point of their career. And they were home.

Not one person left that gig feeling down or upset. The energy remained, the happiness, the bliss, the adrenaline. We went pub crawling until we got lost, and decided to continue partying at the Metalli Mansion. It was a house James and Lars shared, occasionally with short term roommates that were managers of bands or rockstars crashing. Posters covered the walls. After some bad decisions and destruction thay could get them evicted, Teenage Wasteland returned to our apartment.

I stumbled around my room, unable to believe that the tour was over. My eyes hazed as I tried to make out the numbers on the clock. 4:33 a.m. I groaned, still filled with energy and adrenaline unlike my bandmates, who I could already hear snoring off. As I reach into my guitar case for my guitar, I lifted up the lid and paused. A note folded up into a square with an "A" on it. Next to it was a tiny Jack Daniel's bottle, the travel sized ones you get at diners and the liquor store when you buy a big bottle. I looked around, unsure if I was seeing things from the alcohol in my system. I unfolded the lined paper, and read silently, the red light from my lava lamp helping me to read the note.

"Astra,
I messed up. I fucked up and lost the only fucking thing I wanted, I needed. If I could go back and undo everything I would. I just want to see you to talk. Please meet me at the gas station outside your apartment at 7 p.m. I just want to talk my love, say the things I never did and wish I had the chance to.
Kirk ♡"

My hands shook and my eyes watered. He was trying something, I didn't know what. I couldn't let him have me back after I promised myself to him and he just threw us away like we were garbage. I felt used. I cracked open beers and smoked until I passed out, about an hour later.