Fading to Black // Kirk Hammett

8. Friends

October 10th, 1983

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Kirk hasn't talked to me for 2-3 days now, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't starting to panic about it either.

I don't really know what was going on between us, but it felt like we had a good thing going. So it hurt a bit to know he just dropped it like that, which is what I'm assuming is what happened. Cliff hasn't asked me to go to practice with him this week either.

I know that I didn't actually know what was going on with Kirk, or why he wasn't talking to me. However in my life I've come to realize that it's better to just expect disappointment, so that you won't be disappointed. So I just expect the worst.

Which I know, sorry to be a Debbie downer but, that's what I've learned to do to get my ass by.

My argument with Dave was still fresh in my mind on top of all that. I'd really started to feel guilty for the way I lashed out on him. I hate to admit it but I'm fucking embarrassed too. I overreacted majorly and I feel retarded. I don't think I can ever look him in the eye again after that.

It hurts even more because he was obviously about to fucking cry before I went absolutely bat-shit on him.

Unfortunately, I'm just gonna have to suffer with that guilt. As bad as it may sound Apologies aren't really my thing when it comes to arguments.

I don't really know how to explain it, it's just difficult for me. Maybe it's an ego thing, maybe it isn't. Who the fuck knows.

On the brighter side of things, I've finally saved up enough money to buy myself a new guitar. I've been saving up for a few months now, cause' honestly the time has just come for the one I already have.

The neck is literally duck-taped to the body, merely hanging on by a thread. It was a cheap guitar anyways so it never really sounded too great. It was perfect for little me to learn on, but in all I just needed a new one.

I got up and got ready to head over to the guitar shop. My car was finally fixed so I could actually drive myself there.

I threw on a striped sweater along with some baggy jeans, and called it a day. My hair was in rollers from the previous night, so I simply took them out, brushed my hair, and skipped out the door with excitement .

I made my way over to the black 1979 Trans-am sitting parked in-front my apartment. I unlocked it and slid into the drivers seat, turning on the car and revving the engine. God I fucking missed my car, this thing was my pride and joy.

I also drove like an asshole when I had it may I add. Roads are technically just really busy race tracks am I right?

Momentarily, I arrived at the guitar shop. I locked my car and sprinted in through the shops doors. My eyes lighting up with excitement as I stared at all the guitars hanging on the walls.

I walked through the isles overwhelmed by options. I had seen a few I liked, but none that I loved.

I spent a few moments long wandering around until I stopped dead in my tracks. I fucking found it.

The body of it was painted in black iridescent-sparkly paint, and the frets were shaped like starts and moons. May sound childish, but I thought it was fucking gorgeous.

I gawked at it for a more moments until I heard a throat clear behind me.

I turned around to see the tall, hazel eyed, ginger staring down at me with his hands shoved in his pockets.

"Dave?" My voice barely a whisper, as I was having a hard time getting words to come up.

Before he had stone cold expression on his face, but the second I spoke it softened up.

"Hi." He said shifting uncomfortably.

He huffed as he looked around for a second, rocking on his heels before he spoke again.

"Look Hails, I'm sorry about the other day, and just for everything in general." He spoke genuinely.

I froze. Never in my life did I think that Dave Mustaine would ever apologize for literally anything. Which ultimately made it feel all the more genuine.

"No Dave, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have screamed at you and overreacted the way I did." I said softly.

"Hailey I need to tell you something-" He mumbled.

Almost immediately my mind went back to the day he was at my doorstep with my jacket. When we were sitting on the couch and he opened his mouth to say something, but the thought had never surfaced.

He did that exact same thing at this moment. He almost said it but shook his head to himself.

He deeply sighed, "Look I know you have a thing going on with what's-his-face, but is there anyway we could try to be friends?"

He looked half disgusted as the word friends rolled off of his tongue, but I just brushed that off as he was just grossed out by Kirk.

I felt a tinge of pain in my chest as he said it. Honestly it just brought me back to when Dave and I were still together, and every time I said those three stupid words he had never said them back.

It made me realize that maybe this was really all he'd ever actually wanted, since the beginning. Just being friends.

Although the thought repulsed me, I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss talking to Dave.

I forced a smile at him, "Yeah, we can be friends Dave."

He smiled at me as he tilted his head behind me to see the guitar I had been looking at.

"Woah that's sick." He said quickly changing the subject.

"I know! I think I'm gonna get it!" I exclaimed happily.

He smiled at me again. I've seen him smile more in the past five minutes than I have in months.

"Finally giving up the ol' girl for good, huh?" He chuckled, nudging me with his elbow.

"I'll keep her for the memories and sentimental value she holds, but she's ready to retire." I said letting out a breathy laugh.

Dave helped me carry the guitar up the counter so I could buy it. I had never been so excited in my life.

After I gave the cashier my money, Dave walked me out to my car.

"Don't get too carried away with that now missy." He said laughing.

I rolled my eyes and smiled, "With what? The car or the guitar?"

"Knowing you, both." He chuckled.

We exchanged our goodbyes, and I got into my car. Waving at him as I drove off.

Just being friends really couldn't be that hard, could it?