I will forewarn you, there's strong language and if you don't like it don't read it or waste your time trying to get me to change it.
You know when you see something on the road and you can't help but run over and get it? Well, I'm one of those people who just can't help it. I'd say I'm a modest person, but when I saw a wedding ring in the middle of the road I had to take it. I could clearly see someone a bit further down, scanning the road carefully, but no. I took it anyway, that was a bitchy move. It's not like I regret it though, it's a pretty ring. Silver, with green engravements on it. Especially when the guy saw me and ran up, yelling and cursing, "Hey! Give that the fuck back!"
I simply raised a dark eyebrow at him and huffed, "Give what back?" I knew trying to say different wasn't going to work, but I may as well try. Maybe he's dumber than he is hot. He had kind of medium hair, almost reaching his shoulders, straight and black. He was wearing a tight black shirt and it showed off a few tattoos on his arms and a pair of slightly baggy denim jeans. His face tightened, making his appearance sharp.
"That wedding ring. I saw you grab it off the fucking road, now hand it over!" He held a stern hand out, his eyes sharp. He was quite tall, and rather intimidating. But, even if I'm short, I can be intimidating too, "No, finders keepers bitch."
He took a nervous step back as I took one forwards, pulling my jacket on tighter. I narrowed my eyes, before turning away and walking fast back to my house. I went inside and shut the door behind me. I peeked through the front window to see the man storming after me. His arms were tight and I could clearly see some of the muscles on his arms. Please don't let him break a window. ] I quickly moved away and headed into my lounge. I was a big 'core fan, opening up my metal, 'core and rock playlist, I scrolled down to Desolation of Eden by Chelsea Grin and turned it up full volume. I smiled, before heading upstairs to my bedroom. I pulled off my leather jacket, throwing it on the ground and looked out my window. I had an easy view of my front door. I opened the window when I saw the man banging on my door angrily. I leaned out, "I'm sorry I can't hear you knock over the sound of my music."
He turned and looked up at me, he had a phone pressed to his ear. He murmured something I couldn't hear (over the sound of my music) and hung up. He turned his vision back up at me, "I'll be back for that fucking ring!"
I was 19 at the time. The man would have been about 23. That was 5 years ago now. And he never came back, so I still own that ring. But who cares, he probably saw it and decided to nick it. He was probably going to sell it! I kept it, and I wear it to this day. It had the name Miera on the inside. I often dreamed of who Miera might be. I like to think she had long black hair with a red fringe like Joey Jordison, dark make up and a sharp face.
I moved down the shop, serving coffee to awaiting strangers. I had my short hair slicked back and my nose ring in. I sat the plate down and smiled, "Anything else I can get you?"
The lady smiled up at me, "Can you put on Enter Sandman by Metallica?"
"yeah, no problem! You have good taste!" I smiled and walked away. I didn't work in a normal cafe, but a metal cafe. Or more a rock one. We welcome all and play only the best music. We also have great music magazines such as Rock Sound and Amp. We have daily giveaways of posters and shirts, on the 13th of every month we give a bundle of a poster, shirt and cd. We record down everyone and they can only win once and it's wiped at the end of the year. I opened the cafe 2 years ago and it rocketed in popularity. Even though metal and rock are technically in the minority, some others love coming here to learn about musicians. We quite often have people come in and ask questions for assignments and such.
I set the iTunes to Enter Sandman when the current song finished.
"Hullo?"
I turned to my left and smiled, "Welcome to Cafe Metal, how can I help you?"
"Can you please tell me what really happened to Kurt Cobain? Was it actually suicide or did Courtney ask to him to be murdered?!" The girl looked really shaken up, her eyes red and hair messy. I raised an eyebrow at her appearence, she noticed and gave a shrug, "I was up all night trying to figure out what happened... I discovered Nirvana through Foo Fighters last week..."
I gave a smile, leaning into the kitchen, "Becky! Nirvana serving, table 8, pronto!" I turned back to the woman, "Please come sit down, it might take a while."
*
Becky gave us our plate or Nirvana smiley cookies and strong coffee, and we begun.
I explained, in the best way I could, how the accusations went flying, that some of the suicide note was apparently forged. I was on the fence on the whole topic. I knew somethings were complete bullshit, but then when Courtney Love accused Dave Grohl of seducing Kurt and Courtney's daughter, Frances Bean - which wasn't true. I dismissed the fact that Dave Grohl may have murdered Kurt, but that Tom Grant - the private investigator that Love hired to find Kurt when he escaped from the rehab center - could have murdered him under Courtneys instructions. That could have happened, but it is still widely believed that it was suicide. I prefer to think that - imagine your loved one killing you - it was suicide, but you can never be sure.
After her departure, I went around and started to pick up dirty plates and cups. Another man soon approached, I gave the usual 'hi, how can i help you' bull shit but he replied in the most surprising way possible.
"Can I get my ring back?"
