Don't Tread On Me // Kirk Hammett

2. More Of A Megadeth Girl

March 8th, 1996

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I sat in the tiny bar, yet again, occasionally taking a few shots out of boredom. I had an earlier shift today, and it was around noon right now so it wasn't very busy. There was maybe 4-5 people in here minus the band on stage.

I watched them as they set up, these guys had played here before. Although I'm not the biggest glam girl, I actually liked their music quite a bit. Their guitarist and I talked about guitar a lot when he'd come over and get his drinks, nice guy.

They all waved at me quickly, I gave them a half smile as they returned to setting up. Just then I heard the bell above the entry way ding, signaling that somebody had just walked in.

I looked towards the door to see a guy standing there. He looked a little older than me, had short curly hair, he wore black shirt a leather jacket, and had what I believe was a piercing below his lip.

I couldn't completely clearly see his face, since he was all the way on the other side of the bar. From what I could see he was fairly attractive, it was undeniable, but for some reason he looked extremely familiar. I couldn't put my finger on it though.

I shrugged it off and took another shot, watching the band as they started to play. I slightly nodded my head to the music as I rinsed out my shot glass. Once I was done I leaned against the bar, refocusing my attention to the music playing.

Shortly after I heard a throat clear, from somewhere to the side of me.

"You like this shit?" A voice questioned soon after.

I turned my head toward whoever it was that was speaking, only to see the guy who I saw walk in only a few moments prior, only now that he was close up it only took a second before I knew exactly who the fuck he was.

Kirk fucking Hammett.

He was looking back at me, with an amused smirk on his face.

He's the lead guitarist in metallica, I mean I think everyone fucking knows that, I used to listen to them a lot as a teenager.

I just stopped following them as much once I got a bit older, they started releasing more 'Hard Rock' sounding albums I had heard on the radio, that personally I didn't like as much.

They weren't bad, just not my cup of tea.

So maybe I didn't recognize him at first, since he didn't exactly look the way he did on the back of my Kill 'Em All record anymore.

They had gotten pretty big after they released their 5th studio album, from what I know at least.

I figured I'd toy with his ego a bit, so I stared at him blankly for a moment, before shrugging in response to his question.

"What can I get you, man?" I asked him bluntly, keeping a straight, unamused look on my face.

His amused expression dropped, as he furrowed his brows in confusion staring at me momentarily.

I raised my eyebrows at him, signaling him to just give me a fucking answer.

"Just get me a glass of whiskey, please." He muttered lowly.

I nodded and walked away to pour the glass of whiskey, momentarily walking back over and sliding it toward him.

"Thanks..." He trailed off while staring at me, with that same confused expression on his face.

I shrugged again, maintaining my straight face as I quickly wiped down the bar counter. I could still feel his stare burning into the side of my head so I turn my gazed back towards him.

"Do you have any clue who I am?" He questioned genuinely, tilting his head to the side in confusion as he took a sip from his glass.

"Mhm, I'm just more of a Megadeth girl." I replied snarkily, shrugging as a slight smirk creeping it's way onto my face.

I could see slight irritation in his eyes, as he stared at me with a dumbfounded look on his face. After a moment he just let out a sharp breath, and took another sip from his whiskey.

"Have you listened to us at all?" He asked curiously, slightly frowning as he lit a cigarette.

I nodded, "More of a fan of the early albums." I stated dryly.

I couldn't lie, I found him cute or whatever when I was a teenager. Something about the man sitting in-front of me, was magnetically attractive though. I quickly shook the thought away though, because I knew all too well what would happen if I let those thoughts go further.

I could see him growing  more irritated, but I'll give him props for trying to shove it down.

"Do you have a boyfriend or some shit?" He said abruptly, with a slight hint irritation coming through.

"No, I don't really do that." I answered quietly.

"What's your deal then?" He snapped slightly, gently slamming down his empty whiskey glass.

"Nothing." I answered slightly irritated, who the fuck did this guy think he is?

Back in the 80s, I used to always hear about how big of sweetheart this guy was. He seemed sweet in the few interviews I saw too.

Now he was a cocky asshole.

I guess came really does go to peoples fucking heads, and makes them fucking wannabe playboy douchebags.

"Why are you here interrogating me? Don't you have some big show to go do, or some groupies to go fuck? " I snapped.

"Not til 10 sweetheart, I'm all yours!" He smiled at me sarcastically, taking a drag of his cigarette.

I scoffed, before looking away toward the clock to check the time. I sighed with relief seeing it was now 1:30.

"Well too bad my shifts over, cya Hammett." I said bluntly, quickly grabbing my bag then quickly walking out past him.

He had a dumbfounded look on his face, as he turned to watch me walk out. I don't know why, I was so attracted to him, but he pisses me off so much at the same time.

Also, for some stupid reason, I have a feeling that's not gonna be the last time I run into him. No matter how much I try to shake that feeling.