Jameson // Metallica

MISSING PIECE

It had been already several years since Jason had left Metallica, but he still felt as if his life was put on hold.

Of course, he had played in several other bands – always a short replacement mind you – and he had countless ideas to write music. In fact, he had multiple demos, some of which were blessed with a drum track, but for most of them, only the bass was recorded, and the guitar tracks were all but part of his imagination. Every time someone proposed to help him, the tracks were not satisfactory. He really had no idea why, but they always seemed to lack a little something.

It was only by chance that he discovered the true reason of his dilemma.

One day, to get a bit of change of scenery, he decided to wander the streets of San Francisco. His feet took him to all his favorite places, including a quite discrete music store; they always had the most rare and original things. Of course, he didn’t come to know this store by himself, it was James and Kirk who… NO! He shouldn’t think about them again, he spent way too much time on that already…

He went into the store, perused around a bit, and once he was recognized, he was allowed in the backroom, where only few people were allowed - not necessarily famous ones but true musicians.

Upon entering, he was greeted by the most wonderful guitar sound that he had heard for a long time. It was so incredibly deep, profound, and soulful; the player was expressing so many things with the guitar he was trying out. Obviously he was a master of his craft. It was exactly what Jason imagined for his music. He had to get to know this person…

When he got the person in his line of sight, finally everything became clear. The frustration, the flatness or the missing piece of the numerous guitar tracks he had listened to. He couldn’t believe he blinded himself for so long. How could he have not realized what he was missing? What the real hole in his life was? That he was missing far more than a mastery of an instrument? At last he understood what he had refused to admit all this time.

Indeed, just fifteen feet in front of him, James Hetfield was playing, using the guitar he was trying to express the considerable amount of feelings he had locked inside of him. Thrown on his face was one of the biggest reasons why Metallica had millions of fans. Here, free from outsiders, was James liberating himself, playing freely, not caring about appearances, media or expectations; he was simply telling with notes what he could never say with words. And, boy, was he impressive. Beyond his obvious mastery of the guitar, the man was exuding charisma in waves.

Jason could not have moved even if his life depended on it – which was not exactly false, seeing it was the first time they saw each other since Jason left… To think during all this time, he thought he was working for himself in order to leave Metallica behind, to evolve without their influences. Such an illusion had it been. He still depended on them, whether he wanted to admit it or not.
With this painful realization, he turned to leave as he had a lot to think about. On his way out, he crossed paths with the manager of the store.

“You’re already out of the special room, Jason?! Usually we have to forcibly throw you out!” he said laughing before adding,

“By the way, where are you with your project, I listened to your bass tracks, there is some really good music in there?”

“Well… I have trouble finding good guitar players. There was something missing in each case,” Jason answered.

“Really? Any idea how to remedy to that?”

“Oh… I’ve just understood what I’m missing, and it’s something I’ll never be able to get back,” he added with a sad look toward the backroom before leaving the store. As he didn’t look back he didn’t see a pair of icy blue eyes following his movements with some sort of longing in them…

Almost two weeks later, he got a small package from USPS, only to discover inside a CD with a post-it saying , “Never say never” in a writing he had seen so many times. His hands were shaking, he was so anxious to hear what the CD would contain.

Not even one full minute after he began listening to it, he had tears in his eyes.

By the end of the CD, he was crying freely. He had in his possession the guitar tracks for all his songs, played by James Hetfield. His very own James… God, he didn’t even know if he was crying from the joy of hearing his music become so much better with James’s ability added, from the fact that James didn’t hate him or reject him, or from sadness and regret that he would never be a part of his life anymore…

Well, maybe he should follow James’ advice and finally dare to take his phone…

After all, never say never…