So Close (a James Hetfield story)

Chapter 38

August 8, 1992 - Montreal

I had wanted to wait at the hotel as long as possible. Hell if I'd had my way, I wouldn't have gone at all. But I was a pro, and I wasn't going to let a little thing like getting my heart sliced and diced—again—keep me from doing my job.

I was able to make it to my dressing room without running into James, and I breathed a sigh of relief as I sat down in front of my make-up station. All of my costume changes were hanging cleaned and ready to go, but I just couldn't drum up any enthusiasm to get ready. It was then that I noticed an envelope clipped to one of the hangers. Pulling it off, I turned it over and my stomach clenched as I saw my name written in James' writing. My first impulse was to tear it into a thousand pieces, a total justification for how he'd torn me apart, but instead, I let out a deep sigh, and with shaking hands, ripped it open and pulled out the hand written note inside.

Leila,

I know you won't believe me, but I never wanted to cause you pain, especially since everything I've ever done was to protect you. Instead I failed you again. You are the best person I've ever known and deserve a life of nothing but happiness and love. I know that life is waiting for you, and I'm sorry I keep getting in the way.

James

I stared at the note as if other words would magically appear on the paper. Words that would make me understand why he kept hurting me. Instead, this was a goodbye letter, the last contact I'd ever have with the man who had once meant everything to me. I wrapped my arms around myself, the trembling in my body getting stronger as the weight of that reality took hold.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the dressing room door and I jumped nervously. Tracey went to answer it and we were all surprised to find Duff standing there, his face tense. He looked around the room and then his eyes fell on me. "Leila, there's been an accident. It's James."

My mind wasn't registering what he was saying. "Accident? That's not possible, he's onstage."

Duff shifted uncomfortably. "The accident happened onstage. He...he was too close to a pyrotechnic—"

I didn't even let him finish before I was pushing past him and racing towards the direction of the stage.

The backstage was chaotic as Metallica's crew members, tour management, and medical personnel all seemed to be rushing around, faces anxious. I needed to see him, I needed to know he was ok. Taking a few steps forward, I felt a hand reach out and grab me by the arm and looked back to see it was Kirk. His face was pale and my anxiety elevated.

"Where is he? What happened?"

"I don't know Lei." I could see he was still in shock. "I looked over and he was in the flames. It's not good."

"Oh my god!" I cried out, covering my mouth in horror. "I need to see him. I need to be with him."

Kirk nodded and reached out to take my hand. Leading me through the chaos, we finally made it to stage right where a kind of temporary triage had been set up. I could see a crowd gathered and Kirk pushed through them, never letting go of my hand until suddenly we were standing in front of James laid out on a gurney, EMT's working quickly to assess his injuries. Lars was there looking as shell-shocked as Kirk, but I barely noticed as I tried to edge as close to James as possible. He was startling pale as the emergency team worked to treat the left side of his body where he seemed to have taken the brunt of the heat. They were carefully wrapping him in layers and I caught his faint moans of pain.

Ignoring their command to stay back, I reached out to gently take his right hand in mine as I leaned close to his ear. "I'm here Jamie. I'm right here with you."