Riffed my way into your heart | James hetfield X Dave Mustaine

Revenge?

After Dave finally found someone who was willing to let him crash after a while of knocking on his so-called friends' apartments, he'll deal with them later.

The second he got the okay to stay over for a few nights he started to plot his revenge, deciding to perform a demon summoning ritual and commanding the demon to fuck Lars in the ass.

He quickly set up a ritual circle using table salt to make a pentagram on the floor, lighting up some black candles at which the star's points met the outer circle.

Dave tried to make the room as dark as possible, but considering it was the middle of the day and light was pouring in from all windows; he put up black sheets on the windows. It didn't work too well, but it had to do.

As Dave proudly gazed at his creation--his arrogance at an all-time high--his self-praising thoughts were promptly interrupted.

"Looks more like an oval than a circle to me." The black-skinned flamboyant man commented.

He was sitting in a pink fuzzy armchair, his legs crossed and a teacup with a saucer in hand. He had a pink suit and a cowboy hat to match on.

"Shut up." Dave retorted, not letting his artistic skills be insulted.

He gave the man a venomous glare before he went back to admiring his hard work.

"No need to be so aggressive, I just want your little ritual to succeed." He shook his head and took a sip from the teacup.

It was his friend, Lil Naz x, who let him stay over for a while, he didn't necessarily believe in whatever Dave was getting up to, but at least he was entertained.

Yeah, yeah, whatever-"

Then suddenly...

"FUCK!" Dave shouted.

When he looked back down to gloat more about his creation, he realized he had messed up the salt circle with his foot by accident.

"It's all your fault, you stupid fucking N-."

Dave wasn't very much welcome at Lil Naz x's house after that.

His gear in hand, he had to look to see if anyone else would be willing to take him in.

"Fucking hell, what do I do now?" Dave muttered under his breath, heaving his equipment around town.

He didn't know anyone else in this part of town; why did he have to lash out at his only friend? To be fair, he was in the right.

He sat himself down on a bench with a heavy sigh, propping his guitar beside him. Watching as people passed by; he had never felt more alone than now.

Dave patted his pockets until he felt something in his jacket, he quickly fished out his wallet; checking its contents. That ended up not being all too comforting, he sucked his teeth and closed his wallet, putting it back.

"Great, I'm broke and stranded."

Dave rubbed his face and gazed out to the pond in front of him

"What in the fuck..." He squinted his eyes before rubbing them, trying to make out if what he was seeing was the product of his early onset schizophrenia or not.

He thought he saw James Hetfield on a white horse in glistening-in-the-sunlight-white-armor trotting his way towards David Mustang. But after blinking several times, it turned out it was just some homeless dude with a cart; is that a taxidermized horse head? And is that guy wearing makeshift armor made from pots and pans? Never mind that.

Dave decided to put the last of his cash to good use and burn it all on booze, maybe he'll find his knight in shining armor at the bottom of one of those one of these days.

He decided to go to the nearest convenience store to get enough booze to get absolutely hammered.

After securing the goods he sat himself on the same bench and started downing bottle after bottle.

He and James were never truly official, no matter how much Dave wanted it to be that way. Always making sure to put his best face on whenever his crush was around. Twirling his hair and winking at him—seems as if he didn't really catch his advances.

Maybe this all would've ended up differently if he was honest with his feelings, and the fact that he was gay after all...

He quickly stopped that train of thought and went on cursing out whoever came to mind.

"Fucking stupid fucking..." He stopped to think for a second, before taking a swig of his beer.

"Metallica, stupid band-"

Nothing of notice came from his mouth that evening as he got himself drunk, spewing drunken nonsense at his own fleeting breath vapor.

Before he knew it, it all went black...