So Close (a James Hetfield story)

Chapter 23

Warning: This chapter contains the description of an assault that may be upsetting. 

1985

The band's new label, Elektra Records, re-released Ride the Lightning, and put their muscle behind a promotional campaign. As such, the boys toured a ton. The rest of '84 saw them home for a few months and then off to Europe to tour around the holidays. The new year had them touring the States again, only this time the venues were bigger, there were far more towns, and Metallica was co-headlining. I joined when I could, but I was in my last semester of college and the papers and senior projects were relentless. Months went by without seeing each other, and I hated how much uneasiness about our future was eating away at me. Jamie and I had sworn to tell each other everything, but somehow I couldn't bring myself to burden him with my fears. The road was tough enough, he didn't need my worry added to the mix.

Finally though, in mid-March, after a final string of shows up and down the West Coast, the boys were able to take a break from touring and Jamie came home. He was exhausted and stretched thin, but it was heavenly to have him with me again. He let me dote over him those first few weeks back, enjoying the attention and caretaking that he missed while he was on the road. I'd catch him watching me, his eyes unreadable, before his lips spread wide into his signature smile. Then of course I'd have to kiss him, and that always led to other things. Always.

The timing worked out having him home, because soon I was in the last weeks of school and now I was the one completely stressed and in need of someone looking out for me. James took his role very seriously. He kept the apartment quiet, and was even known to yell at people passing outside on the sidewalk that were talking loudly. He was terrible in the kitchen, but he could heat up soup, make a PB&J, and he was a genius at picking up take-out. He'd give me sweet pep talks when I was feeling overwhelmed, massage my shoulders when I was hutched over in my desk chair studying, and every night, he'd blow my mind and body with soul searing orgasms. When graduation day arrived and I walked across the stage to receive my Bachelor of Arts degree in music, and Jamie's distinctive voice boomed out my name, I almost lost it right there and then. Everything in my life had been leading to this point, and his love and support was one of the main reasons I had succeeded.

Now that I was done with school, I looked at the future as a wide open canvas waiting to be filled with wonderful experiences and opportunities. I wasn't in a hurry to figure out my career path just yet, and James' schedule was pretty open for a few months before he went back into the studio to record the band's third album; so we just hung out like a regular couple. We went to the movies, dinners out, and to hear live music. We traveled a little even, heading to L.A. to spend a week with friends and family, and then a week and a half in Northern Italy.

Italy had been my idea since Jamie had said I could pick any location to travel to as my graduation gift. From the movies and pictures, Italy seemed incredibly romantic, and I loved the idea of strolling hand in hand with James through the quaint villages and lounging on the beaches. He was skeptical at first, but once he realized how fast he could drive in the little sports car we'd rented, and once he saw me in my super skimpy string bikini, I never heard a single complaint. We both ended up having a fantastic time. I'd been right about the romance factor; the Italians embraced the idea of love like no other country, and we were in our element since we couldn't keep our hands off each other. I intentionally wore the sexiest and most revealing clothing I owned to make him crazy with desire, though it turned out to be very fortuitous that James had finally topped out his height at 6'1' and had packed on even more muscle over the last year, because he spent a lot of time literally keeping the Italian men off my ass; it was worth though in how he looked at me and how he touched me.