Hold On To Love || Kirk Hammett

Part 30- Bubblegum Train

I stared at Ron, knowing that he was about to crack. Every fiber of my body burned, red-hot fire pulsing through my veins, but it was all worth it. Humiliation and five hundred dollars were at stake, and I was not about to cower.

"Fucking give up." He ordered.

"Never."

We picked up another joint from the table, and I watched him meticulously as he stroked the match and blew out a puff of smoke. My vision was blurry; my head spun as my lungs filled with smoke. I was going to beat myself up after this.

After two years of inactivity, we were blessing people with our presence. It felt energizing and invigorating to be back on the road again. As much as I didn't want to leave Kirk, we had to continue touring, or our album sales would drop. I

Kirk was heartbroken, and I had to endure his moping and crying. The guys tried to shrug it off, but I was well-educated in hiding behind a bottle, but it wasn't in my hands. I had my priorities, and being their therapist was not included in my job description.

"Fuck you and fuck you." Duncan cussed.

"No!" We watched in horror as Duncan unlatched the window and let the smoke blow out the window. All our hard work literally went out the window.

"It's mine," I said, grabbing the money off the table.

"Says who?" Ron argued back.

"I smoked more," I whined, my inner four-year-old taking the wheels.

"We all suffered from your stupidity, so it's ours." Duncan snarled. He snatched the money from my hands, and we watched in sorrow and defeat as he handed them out to the band, roadies, and driver.

"Oh well," I mumbled. I had flashbacks from when I smoked my first joint and I passed out, except, this time around, I don't think it was a flashback. The world around me spun, and my limbs turned to jelly as my head crashed onto the couch.

~~~~~~

"WAKE UP FUCKERS." Neil screeched worse than a chicken on LSD.

"Fuck off." Ron backhanded him, and I stared emptily, trying to kickstart my brain. My head throbbed, and my heart beat faster than a thousand galloping horses. I got up, my head spinning like a rollercoaster.

"Wear this." 

A blonde haired beauty shoved a pair of clothes into my hands. I squinted my eyes. Helen? What is she doing here? I opened my mouth to speak, but my larynx failed me. I proceeded into the changing room, mustering the little strength I had to change into my clothes.

My throat was on fire, and so was I. Damn, did I look hot. My tits peeked out from my top, and my red and black pants accentuated my ass. Kirk had never seen the point of wearing all these outfits, but that never stopped his roaming eyes, and I reveled in it.

I kicked the door open and grabbed the whisky on the table, chugging it straight from the bottle. I walked up to the boys snickering away, their words not computing in my head.

"This is your husband."

Ron raised his eyebrows and thrust a picture of Lars and Kirk with their hand over each other's crotch into my face. I know for a fact that my sexuality was, well, questionable- but Kirk? His is more suspicious than mine, and with each day, I was coming closer and closer to the conclusion that deep down there, he was-

"Gay." Helen took one look at that picture and she came to her conclusion. 

Ron shushed her, "You're one hundred percent sure he's not, you know," He lowered his voice and craned his head down to mine, "Gay?"