Categories > Celebrities > Metallica > Lion's Share

Turn Me On

by Cerilla 0 reviews

Category: Metallica - Rating: PG-13 - Genres:  - Published: 2014-04-09 - 2368 words - Complete

0Unrated
After a few days spent jamming together, Dave recruited both David and Greg in his band, respectively as bassist and second guitarist. He had made sure they were good enough to play with him; he wanted to put together a band that could kick Metallica's ass, there was no place for amateurs. Since Dave had already written a handful of songs, the newly formed band worked on them constantly.

It became clear from the very beginning that Mustaine was not only the founder but also the absolute leader of the band; he would be the one to write the music, to call the shots, make the decisions and have the last word on everything. It was is vision they were realizing, and if Greg and David wanted to be part of it, they'd better accept their secondary role.
It wasn't a problem for Greg, but it took some time for David to fully embrace the idea; in the end, he decided that Dave's experience and talent were worth taking the back seat. He knew that teaming up with Dave would help him realize his own dream.
Since Dave was still saving for the money to buy a car, David would drive him around with his van whenever the older guy needed it, which helped him familiarize with the new city. Dave also found Greg and David a job in phone sails at the same office he worked for, and even though neither of them was thrilled by the experience, the cash was more than welcome.
In July, about a month after the three men had met, Dave introduced a singer to the band, a guy named Lor.

Dave's work of shaping the perfect band wasn't limited to the musical aspect; the first thing that came under scrutiny was the band's name. The first option, Fallen Angel, didn't convince anybody and was promptly dismissed in favour of Megadeth, from the title of one of their songs.
Then it was the turn of David's name; “There can't be two Daves in a band, it's too confusing; we need to find you a nickname.”
“I don't see why; you already go by Dave, I can be just David.”
“No, it needs to be something different. Do you have a middle name?”
“Warren. But I don't like it too much.”
“Yeah, it's not good. You could shorten it to War.”
David turned up his nose. “It doesn't sound very cool.”
“What about Junior?” suggested Lor. “Since you're the youngest one. I think it fits you.”
“Yeah, that could work!” Exclaimed Dave. “From now on, you're gonna be Junior.”
David wasn't thrilled by it; in his opinion, it sounded demeaning and condescending. “What am I, some naïve kid from the countryside?”
“Well, you are a kid, and you were a farm boy.” cut short Dave. “But if you can come up with something better, just say it.”
David shut up, since he had no other option to offer, but couldn't suppress his irritation.

A third problem concerned Greg; although he was a fine guitarist, Dave was getting less and less convinced about his role in the band. Greg was a prematurely balding guy with a passion for leather clothes, and that wasn't the look Mustaine was imagining for his band.
David was reluctant to kick his friend out of the band for something he considered as trivial as looks, but Dave was inflexible: Greg had to go.

The two Daves decided that the best way for breaking the bad news to Greg was taking him to a bar and getting him drunk. It didn't work exactly as planned, since drunken Greg was much more emotional than regular Greg and his reactions were way over the top. First he gasped, incredulous, then he cried and sobbed his heart out, attracting the attention of everyone in the bar, and just when the Daves started to realize what a bad idea that had been, Greg became angry and raging and verbally attacked the other guys, screaming insults at them.
The bar owner threatened to call the police, and since Greg didn't seem about to stop anytime soon, Junior and Dave dragged him outside and into a back alley and let him vent his anger. After a while, Greg calmed down and quickly walked away without looking at his former bandmates.
“So, that went well.”
“Could have been worse. He could have hit us.”
“Whatever. Let's get him and go back home.”
“About that... I may need to stay at your place for a few days. I don't think Greg is going to want to live with me.”
“Isn't the apartment yours, technically? I mean, it was given to you by the BIT and all.”
“Yeah, but it will take Greg a few days to find another place and move out. Man, I really feel like shit now.”
“We've already covered this. It had to be done, full stop.”

As they went back to the main street, Dave and Junior realized that Greg was gone; he wasn't in the street, in the bar or anywhere near and, more important, their wan was gone too.
“Fuck, he took the van and left us here!”
“I thought you had the keys!”
“I... I left them in the van.”
“Goddammit, you have to lose this habit of yours. This is not fucking Minnesota!”
Junior sighed, “We'll have to walk home, now.”
“No way, we're not going to walk for over an hour in the middle of the night.”
“What then? Do you want to call a taxi?”
“No, there's Heidi, a friend of mine, that lives nearby. I'm sure she'll let us crash at hers for the night.”

The Daves woke up the day after early in the morning, because Heidi had to go to work and kicked them out of her house; they felt like zombies and their backs were aching because of the hard floor they had slept onto.
They slowly dragged their feet down the road home, cursing the bright sunlight, the hot air and the traffic noises.
“Fuck! When I get home, I just want to throw myself on the bed and sleep 'till tomorrow.”
“Do you think that Greg's at home? He was out of his mind when he took the van.”
“I hope he hasn't crushed it anywhere. We need that van.”
“Dave! Greg could be hurt! He could be... anywhere, really. Who knows.” said David, “I'll call him.”
Junior looked for a phone booth and tried to call home, but no one answered.
“Shit, he's not there. What can we do?”
“First of all, let's go buy some cigarettes; I really need to smoke.” replied Dave, walking toward a corner shop. “We'll figure out what to do once we're home. Perhaps he didn't answer because he doesn't want to talk to anybody.”
“God, I feel so bad. If we hadn't kicked him out of the band...”
“Not that shit again! He's not what I'm looking for. Listen, a band is not just a bunch of random dudes that group together and play some songs; a real band needs to project a certain image. I know it may sound 'fake' or something like that, but think about it: kids don't just want to buy records, they want to see you performing on stage, they want to hang your posters on the wall. Kids look at you as you're the coolest people ever, they see you as some kind of gang they wish they could join, your band is like part of a different, exciting world.” Dave explained, “The visual element is as important as the musical one, those who say otherwise are just clueless; it's all part of a lifestyle, the way you dress, the way you act, everything reflects your music.”
David nodded; he perfectly understood Dave's point. Yet, he was saddened by the fact that his old friend couldn't be part of it.

“That's right, you have to choose your partners in crime wisely, if you want your band to work.” said a voice, catching the two guys by surprise. It was Maria, looking at them sardonically from behind the counter. “Hey boys, what's up?”
“Oh, hi Maria, do you work here?”
“Yes, she does, as you can clearly see.” Dave said brusquely. “Give me two packs of Lucky Strikes.”
Maria looked at Dave without reacting, like she was waiting for something, making him nervous.
“Please?” He finally added. She nodded and finally gave him what he wanted.

Dave looked at her as she took his money and put them in the cash register. His eyes lingered on her movements, when she tucked her hair behind her ear, licked her lips and counted the change.
In that moment, he realized that he still felt attracted to her. He usually forgot about his conquests the moment after he bed them, but in a few cases, the desire lingered even after, and apparently Maria was one of those.
When he had first met her at the bar, she had caught his attention because she looked like a fish out of water; her plain clothes, the lack of make up, the nervous way she moved, like she didn't know what she was doing in that place, had made him wonder why she was even there to begin with.
He had approached Maria out of curiosity and the moment she looked at him, he felt a spark: he wanted to fuck that woman, pure and simple.
She was pleasing to the eye, with her long legs and cat eyes, but he had been with way sexier and prettier women; what he felt was an instinctive, physical sensation that doesn't happen often.
They had chatted for a little while about stuff that didn't matter, then left together. Picking her up hadn't been hard, she clearly felt for him the same kind of attraction he had for her and it all translated well in the sack; they had proved to be very sexually compatible.
As she handed him his change, he decided he wanted more of her.

“Bye guys, good luck with your band.” Maria said.
“Have a nice day. Let's go, Dave.”
“Wait a moment.” Dave answered, then addressed Maria, “Can I talk to you for a sec.?”
“You want to talk to me? Really?”
“Listen, I know I've been less than gracious to you.” She raised her eyebrows, but he continued unabashed. “But I was wondering if you wanted us to see each other again.”
Maria laughed incredulous. “Oh God, you have such a nerve! Why should I want to see you again? You cannot even be polite the day after sex.”
“I can be a real gentlemen when I want to.” From the look on her face, he could see she didn't believe him one bit. “Ok, I can be decent.” He corrected himself. “The point is, many girls get clingy after sex, and I don't care about hanging out with some one night stand.”
“Please, keep talking, you are making me weak in the knees with your gallantry and manners.” she retorted sarcastically.
“But you don't seem to be the clingy type, so I was wondering if you wanted...”
“To be your fuck-buddy.” she finished for him.
“Yeah, basically. As I said, I can be nice. We keep it cool and casual and nobody gets hurt.”
“Explain to me why I should accept your proposal. What makes you think it's a good idea?”
“Well, I know for sure that when we met, we both felt a strong desire for each other. I also know that I still want you.” He said, reaching for a strand of her hair and twirling it around his fingers. “And sex was great, you can't deny it. Don't you want more of that?”

Maria sighed. He was right about the physical desire they had felt and were still feeling, and he was right about the great sex. She had gone to that bar out of desperation, after months of more or less intentional chastity; she led a quite secluded life and didn't like crowded places, but just when she had been about to go away alone, they had met and had a night of real passion.
One night stands weren't a thing Maria liked to do much, mainly because you can never really know what the man is going to be like; in her experience, guys tend to be selfish, careless and inconsiderate of the pleasure of their occasional partner. Wham, bam, thank you Ma'am. But Dave had proved to be different; he was a skilled and attentive lover, even when slightly drunk and with a woman he had just met and didn't plan to see ever again. The idea of getting some good sex on a regular basis was actually pretty appealing.

“You promise not to be a pain in the ass?” Maria asked.
“No, just a pleasure.” grinned Dave. She rolled her eyes at his lame joke.
“Let's exchange our phone numbers. I'll call you so we can talk about it.”
Dave put the little piece of paper with Maria's number in his pocket and left with an incredulous David.
“I can't believe you.” Junior said, “First you treat her like she's infected, then you beg her for more. What's your game?”
“I didn't beg.” retorted Dave indignantly, “I normally asked a woman to become my lover.”
“And she accepted. After the way you treated her.”
“We have yet to talk about it properly. And don't you think, by the way, that she will dump my sorry ass the minute I treat her wrong? Maybe you haven't noticed, but she's not the meek type.”
David shrugged. “I think you must be very good in bed.”
“You bet. She is, too, that's why I want her again.”
“What about Diana?” asked David. Diana was a girl Dave had met before Maria and fell in love with. Or so he said.
“First, she has a boyfriend, so I need to pursue her carefully. Second, I'm sure she'll fall for me, eventually, but I'm not putting my dick on hold for who knows how long a time.“
“You are a true romantic, man.”
“The last one of my kind.”
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