𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐫

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏

James Hetfield x OC

A/N: This is the first story that I've written on here so any positive feedback or any helpful tips would be much appreciated

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞

848 words

The music was booming from inside the club that Veruca was waiting patiently to get into. She tapped her foot as the tall, greasy bouncer let the person in front of her in. 'Finally!' She thought, 'fucking finally.'

She gave the bouncer a quick smile as she flashed him her driver's license. She was 19 and still had some trouble getting into clubs. She batted her lashes at him and stuck a 20 dollar bill into his shirt pocket. The man was practically 7 feet tall compared to her short stature and he did not look happy until she slipped him the 20. He smirked and unhooked the velvet rope for her to walk in. The bustling streets of San Francisco were nothing compared to the violent and loud music that came from the clubs at night. It was exhilarating after a long day of playing for 'Ruca to let go at one of the few nightclubs that she could get into. 'Two more years, just two. Then you can get in anywhere,' she thought.

She grabbed a bottle of sparkling water from the bartender and started walking towards the back of the crowd. She stood on her tippy toes to get a better look at the band. Some band wearing makeup. They were up and coming but a bit too satanic and annoying for her taste.

Suddenly, a brute of a man bumped straight into her, causing her to spill her drink on a fellow metalhead. His white shirt and jean jacket slowly became soaked with the liquid as she immediately put a hand on his chest to attempt to save it from spreading. "Ah, fuck! I'm so so sorry."

She backtracked as she looked up at the taller man. He chuckled as he put a hand over hers. "It's okay, really. Shit happens." He brushes it off as he looks into her eyes, flashing a big smile. He looked vaguely familiar to her. Where had she seen him before? Long, frizzy blonde hair and gorgeous blue eyes. Fucking Metallica. Another up and coming band who's sound was so much better than whatever they were listening to right then.

"You're from Metallica, right? I saw you guys last month and you fucking rock!" She beamed as she motioned to him. He laughed again, sheepishly as he nodded in response. "That's me. Nice to meet you." He stuck out his hand for her to shake. She shook it and nodded. "I'm Veruca, like Charlie and the chocolate factory." He raised his eyebrows in response. He'd never heard anyone with that brat's name from that movie. "James."

She grinned like a kid on Christmas and suddenly her usual cool demeanor flew out the window leaving her a nervous wreck.

James on the other end prayed that lights were dimmed enough so that she couldn't see him blushing. He wasn't used to girls coming up to him and chatting with him about the stuff that he was into. Girls normally threw themselves at the band for other reasons.

Once the show was over, they found themselves drifting towards the bar. Their conversation continued to the early hours of the morning.

"So James, do your parents approve of your lifestyle?" She questioned as she leaned on her hand. He chuckled slightly before shaking his head. "No, they don't. They think that it goes against their religion. I was raised in the Christian Science community and I couldn't take health classes or anything in school. I had to be pulled from classes like that. I was an outsider in my family." Veruca frowned slightly.

"I was raised with hippies. My mom and sister are still hanging on to the '70s but I'm just here to party in the here and now. My dad was never around, though."

Once the club had closed and they were the final people there, they walked out onto the now quiet sidewalk. San Francisco wasn't the safest place ever late at night so Veruca decided to head home.

Her apartment was a few miles away and she didn't want to walk home alone. James did the gentlemanly thing and decided to hail a taxi for them to ride back to her place. Once there, James stepped out with her, the awkward tension could've been cut with a knife.

It was obvious that they were attracted to each other but neither person wanted to get hurt so they waited it out. She pulled a sharpie from her pocket and pushed up his jacket sleeve so that she could write her number on his arm. She left him with a wink and a playful smirk.

The ride home was quiet for him as he smiled to himself. 'What a night, what a babe', he thought to himself. He would be teased weeks after that night by the rest of the guys.

Them pretending to fawn over James any chance they could like Veruca had done. He'd only chuckle and blush knowing that he was probably hooked.