Being stuck in the middle between to rivals seems like a pain in the ass. Especially when it's between two bands.
Virginia Rosse is a young 23 year old girl who's life is a mess. She's friends with not only Metallica but Megadeth, too, and when the...
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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑— 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐄
FEATURING: DAVE MUSTAINE JAMES HETFIELD
⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘!⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘
▀▁▂▃THIRD PERSON POV▃▂▁▀
"Oh. James." Dave said blandly, yet Virginia could tell he was uncomfortable. "What're you doing here?" He asked, swallowing hard.
"What are you doing here?" James retorted, walking up to her, acting like he was going to protect her.
"I'm with Virginia." Dave stated, still not budging to move away from the girl.
"Wait— you guys know each other?" Virginia asked confused, looking in between the two like it was a tennis match.
"Yep. Not happy to see him though." Dave said coldly, much to Virginia's dismay.
"I'm so fucking confused here. Please explain."
"Virginia, y'know those few years we weren't talkin'?" Dave asked, "Well, that was when I was in Metallica. Then Kirk took my spot." He spat, sounding quite broken.
"Oh—.."
"That was for a completely reasonable, understandable, clear reason, Dave." James said, trying not to sound mad. It was almost as if Dave would thrash out—
"Y'know what! Fuck you! I don't care! I have my own fucking band now! Go fuck off, leave me and Virginia alone!" Dave flailed, and I could see him clench his fists. I took ahold of one of his hands, his white knuckles gently being held in my small palm.
"Why should I? I mean, V is my girlfriend." James said, stepping very close to me, and I could smell, practically taste, the alcohol radiating off of him.
"James—"
"Virginia... Is this true..?" Dave asked slowly, sounding extremely upset.
"No! No, it's not! James, Dave, just— just— just move!" Virginia snapped, storming away to her dressing room.
Dave looked at James, then rushed away to go find Virginia while mumbling some profanity.
▀▁▂▃VIRGINIA'S POV▃▂▁▀
"Hey.. Virginia, I'm sorry." Dave said, it's didn't sound as clear as it would as if he were to be right in front of me, but he was behind my closed door. "Can you just let me in, please? Before James comes and tries to beat my ass.." He mumbled the last part, so I slowly got up, getting rid of the rest of my anger before I opened the door.
Dave rushed in, closing the door quickly behind him.
"He was drunk." I said.
"What?" Dave asked, looking around my dressing room a little bit.
"James. He was drunk. We're not dating, and we never had been. It's not like him to—... To do stuff like that. That was, honestly, quite scary seeing James not be, well, James." I said, my anger and discomposure slowly coming back.
"Yeah. He's like that. He's a weirdo sometimes." Dave said, "I've known him. Trust me." Dave said, the same dejected tone to his normal, sarcastic, Dave voice. It felt like someone just stabbed me in the throat and the gut at the same time.
"Oh, Dave.." I said gently and soothingly, walking closer to Dave. I wrapped my arms around him, and he instantly wrapped his arms around me, too. "I'm sorry, Dave." I whispered, tucking my face into the crook of his neck. He smelt of nice cologne, not too strong yet just enough to smell it decently. Of course Dave would do that. Come 'nice' to my performance. He didn't need to, yet he did. He always made an effort to make me satisfied.
"Why?" He asked, sounding a bit more like himself.
"For everything," I said, "you're a really sweet guy, Dave. Yet you get the worst in return. It's like the world doesn't like you or something." I then continued, "But I do. I love you, Dave. In a friendly manner, of course, but I do."
Then an loud knock was set as my door.
"Go away," Groaning, I sat down on the loveseat in my room.
"Please, V, I'm sorry.." James whined, as well as slurring, and I could feel his fingers tap on the door softly.
"No. Not now." I said, watching Dave sit down next to me. I leaned my head on his shoulder.
