27 bandshirts || a metallica fanfic

Bonus - Baby Kirk:

18 November, 1978.

I want to be his best friend.

That was the only thought bouncing off the walls of my mind as I watched him cautiously pull the adhesive from his gift. His sentimentality barred him from tearing the old, Christmas-themed wrapping paper my mom saved from the previous year's holiday season.

I wasn't exactly a social butterfly. Between keeping my mother happy with good grades and following my sister's lead at becoming a ballet prodigy, friends simply had to be an afterthought. I was 16, sheltered and sometimes managed to find solace in being a loner.

He changed that. Small talk led to strange and in-depth discussions in school hallways due to being locker neighbors. Before I knew it, I didn't have to eat my lunch with the librarian in her cramped, little office anymore. Much to the reluctance of his 3 oddball friends, Kirk kept the seat next to him in the cafeteria vacant, in case I worked up the confidence to sit with him and eat amongst a sea of cruel and judgmental highschoolers.

His birthday was the perfect excuse to hang out with him after school hours. Though that evening he'd be off to a band brother's house to participate in drinking contests and play-wrestling and however else 16 year old boys spent their birthdays, I could surprise him in the afternoon by showing up to Burger King with a present when his shift ended.

"Just to be a dick, I'm going to throw that paper away when you're not looking," I held a hand over my mouth as I munched on my burger - a last ditch effort at being a lady.

He really was peeling the wrapping paper apart with a steady, surgical technique. My heart was beginning to flutter far too much simply by watching his grin grow bigger by the second. I wanted him to get on with it.

When the parting in the paper revealed a small portion of what was inside, his hands froze. His mouth fell open and my heart instantaneously exploded. I shut my eyes and enjoyed a moment of delight: yes! I made him happy!

"There is no fucking way you actually got this for me..." he gushed as he pulled the box out of the wrapping paper.

It was no Marshall amp, but I knew it was something that kept Kirk flipping burger patties at the fast food joint, much to his displeasure. I couldn't afford an amp, but the little effects pedal in his hands meant that he didn't have to keep his job for much longer.

"I was getting tired of you butchering Voodoo Child, so I got you this, which hopefully will make it sound a little more the way Jimi intended... I don't know about you lugging a guitar and a wah to school, but maybe someday when you're all grown up and a big rockstar I'll hear you play it?"

"Or you can just come over to my place right now and I'll play you whatever you want!"

Even better! I had never been to Kirk's house before and I was always curious as to what decorated the walls of his bedroom. He was still eyefucking the 1968 King Vox Wah pedal by the time I got sick of my food. I couldn't help but be immensely satisfied with myself.

"I don't know what to say..." he finally looked at me, eyes magnified to look like a bug's with those thick lenses on his face, "Where did you find the money for this?!"

His serious face made me chuckle, "Relax, I didn't do anything illegal. I sold a pair of Saldana's old pointe shoes to one of the girls in my ballet class."

"Your sister's that big of a legend, huh?"

"You could say that," she certainly had many accomplishments under her belt, but all the girls in my class came from obscenely rich families and the starting prices they suggested didn't even require negotiation, "but now you're gonna be a legend. A Flying V and a wah? With a decent amp you're going to be unstoppable!"