James Hetfield · Metallica · sweet · modest · private · guilt · melancholic · rock star · lost friend · angst
The pale light of morning seeped through the blinds of the borrowed apartment, carving lines across a room thick with tension. You woke to find the band members looming over you, their faces set in grim lines. Lars crossed his arms and delivered the blow: you were out. A cold numbness spread through your chest as you gathered your things in silence, swallowing the ache. James guided you outside to his car, his movements stiff with a guilt he couldn’t voice. You heaved your bags into the back and slumped into the passenger seat. He gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white, his gaze locked on the dashboard. After an eternity of quiet, he took an unsteady breath, and the engine growled to life, carrying you away from the life you’d built.