Metallica one shots and headcannons

Back to you-(James Hetfield one shot)

I remember the first time I met James. We were just kids, running around our neighborhood, playing in the dirt and sharing dreams of the future. Back then, he was just James—my best friend, the boy with messy hair and a laugh that could light up the dullest day. I never imagined he'd grow up to be the lead singer of a world-famous band like Metallica.

Fast forward to tonight. I stood in a massive arena, surrounded by thousands of screaming fans, my heart racing with excitement and nostalgia. The lights dimmed, and the roar of the crowd sent a shiver down my spine. I could hardly believe I was here, watching James—my James—take the stage.

As the opening chords of "Enter Sandman" reverberated through the air, I felt a rush of emotions wash over me. James was larger than life, his presence commanding the audience as he sang with raw energy and passion. I was entranced, every note pulling me back to the days of our childhood, the dreams we had shared under the stars.

I scanned the crowd, the sea of faces blurring together, but it was James who stood out. The way he moved, the way he connected with the audience, reminded me of the carefree boy I once knew. But now, he was a rock star, and I was just Y/N—the girl who had always been in his shadow.

After an exhilarating set, the crowd erupted in applause, and I felt a familiar ache in my chest. I wanted to connect with him again, to remind him of the bond we had shared all those years ago. Just then, my friend Lily nudged me, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "You've got to go backstage! I have a contact—let's go!"

My heart raced at the thought. Backstage? With James? The idea both thrilled and terrified me. We maneuvered through the throng of fans, my stomach churning with anticipation and nerves.

When we reached the band's green room, I nearly froze. There he was—James, surrounded by bandmates, laughter spilling out into the hallway. He looked just as I remembered, but with an edge of confidence that came from years of performing. He wore a black tank top that showcased his tattoos, and his hair fell just right over his forehead, framing his striking features.

"Y/N!" he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up when he spotted me. I couldn't believe he remembered my name. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see the show," I replied, my voice shaky as excitement coursed through me. "You were amazing!"

"Thanks! It's great to see you! How've you been?" he asked, genuinely curious.

A warm rush flooded me. "I've been good. Just... life, you know? It's been a wild ride. I can't believe how far you've come."

James leaned against the wall, crossing his arms with that familiar grin that made my heart flutter. "I can't believe how long it's been. Remember those backyard concerts we used to have? I used to dream about this—about being up on stage."

"Of course! You were always the star, even then," I laughed, the memories flooding back like a tide. "I never imagined you'd be here, doing this for real."

"Well, I had a lot of support," he said, his gaze softening as he looked at me. "You were always one of my biggest fans, Y/N. I remember how you would come to every school talent show, cheering me on."