Hold On To Love || Kirk Hammett

Part 1- Lookin' For The Man

INTRODUCTION

There is a lot of smut in this, and the other story. I'm South African, I have no shame. There are ice cubes, vibrators, and a chapter purely dedicated to smut (Read part two for that, babes).

So if that makes you uncomfortable, this is not the story for you.

Some people asked me if they're white so yes they are. I wanted to write about a band that I thought deserved more recognition. Hell, even if this is Wattpad, I was feeling patriotic.

Also, there are mentions of drug abuse, I kept that short because I felt uncomfortable with that topic, as well as mentions of abuse. Please note that I am romanticizing such topics, I struggled with such issues and that was not my intent.

I'm currently updating the shit out of this book, so there might be instances where the chapters do not line up- but I am trying my best to fix any errors, or generally improve my writing so apologies.

OK I stopped updating for a little while ITS TOTALLY MOMENTARILY. I will get back on it I swear.

Note, the titles are exclusively Rabbitt songs, so don't get fooled by them and think Hard Ride got smut.

I think I've exhausted my formal vocabulary so I hope ya like it. It's shitty, but not so short. Try not to jerk off to the smut, enjoy😉

1983 at the Whisky-a-go-go

Never been a cruel-hearted man
Done good deeds wherever I can
But now I'm wild as the lion
And when I'm through, you'll be cryin', maybe dyin'.

I'm sure this is a dream, because the longer I stared at the guitar in my hand, the longer I felt myself drifting from reality. I sucked in a deep breath and looked around. 

The room was filled with a smoky haze, partially due to me sneaking in a quick joint before our show. It was the only thing that soothed my nerves at times like these.

I kicked a can on the floor, which was littered with bottles of rum as we tied up any loose ends. 

This night had to be nothing short of perfect.

The sound of girls frantically screaming echoed through the hallways, and mixed with the intoxicating smell of leather and weed- what's not to love about being in a rock band?

It all made the adrenaline pulse through my veins so furiously, I was sure I was about to pass out from the rush. 

But as always, I was cut out of my trail of thoughts by none other than my whiny bandmates. For fucks sake, can't a girl worry in peace?

"Shit. Shit. Shit. What if they don't like us?" asked Trevor nervously, who was tuning his guitar far too furiously for comfort.  "What if we blew all our money to remain nobody? "

Confused? Allow me to elaborate.

This is our first gig playing in the States, and Trevor isn't taking it too lightly. 

I don't blame him; in South Africa, some could argue that we were one of the most successful bands there, with competition being teenage country boys with acoustic guitars, and Jimi-Hendrix wannabes.

But here? In America? Living amongst legends like Eddie Van Halen? Oh boy, we were going to get eaten alive- but don't tell him that, because I'm sure he's a second away from a heart attack.

After months of debate, arguing with our record label, and battling against our own anxiety, we finally came to the U.S. As everyone said, America is the land of opportunity- or at least it's supposed to be. Because with each passing second, I was starting to buy into Trevor's delusions.