Categories > Celebrities > Metallica > Epicene Part 2

Chapter 3

by Cerilla 0 reviews

A belligerent neighbour is just a friend you haven't forced to make amends yet.

Category: Metallica - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Angst,Drama,Humor - Published: 2018-06-18 - 2354 words

David Mustaine took deep breaths. He paced around spastically, didn’t know what to do with his body, couldn’t focus his mind on a single thought for half a second. He felt like drowning in a tar pit. Back he was in anguish and despair; maybe he was really going crazy, losing his sanity.
The redhead clenched his fists. How could those assholes have so much power over him? How could they… go on, go on with their lives, with their band, with… and there he was, down in the gutter. He had been stripped of everything, even his own body. There was no way to unravel this tangle, no end to pull, no… no discernible reason, no cure. He felt too exhausted even to throw a fit.

David lay on the bed, watching the clock on the night table ticking the hours away, until it came the time to go to work. The happiness of working in a music club had vanished, now it was just busywork, like cleaning houses and offices had been. God, how he wanted to get plastered, but there was no more alcohol at home. Well, there’s no motivation stronger than that. He thought, getting up from bed.


David drank his beer in big gulps, the cold liquid sliding down his throat. It felt good, it made him feel a little bit better. Inside, he was still upset, but not as before. He had managed to carry on his duties at work without a problem, and the dull tasks he had been required to perform had helped him subdue his distraught mind.
“Hey, easy there, girl.” Said Trevor, the bartender. “You want to sip that thing, or you’re gonna feel sick.”
David snickered, “I can handle my booze, thank you very much.”
“Well, eat something with it, at least.” He replied, passing David a plate of crackers and cheese cubes, which he gladly accepted.
“You know, Vivien…”
“It’s David. I prefer to go by my surname, I told you.”
“Yeah, right, it just sounds weird, you know.” Trevor chuckled.
Well, fucking get used to it, because that’s one thing I want to reclaim. My fucking name. Should have thought of it before, really.
“Don’t you like Vivien? It’s a lovely name.” said Sharon, the waitress. “Calling you David is so strange.”
David clenched his jaw and tried not to snap at her. He knew he would have to insist with everyone to be called David, and wouldn’t always succeed, but damn, let him at least have something back.
“Yes, well, it started as a joke in the family, with me being a big tomboy and all. And I like it best, so…” So call me the fucking way I want to be called, knucklehead.
Trevor and Sharon chattered idly, drinking and smoking, and David hoped they wouldn’t try to force him into the conversation. He just wanted the sunrise to come so he could go back home safely. Being carless sucked.


“So, Dave, what do you think?”
Dave Ellefson made a face, not even bothering to fake a minimum of appreciation for the gaudy spectacle taking place in front of him.
“C’mon, really that bad?” Kimberly laughed.
“This is… not what I expected when I came to L.A.” He replied. “I was hoping for something… much different than this.”
“Let’s go to the bar, you look like you need a strong drink.”
“But we can’t, we’re both under twenty one.”
“Doesn’t matter; I know the bartender, he’ll sneak us something good.”

Kimberly took Dave by the wrist and he followed her docilely, as she guided him through the crowded club. She was a BIT freshman like him, and the first person who had befriended him; he had been a little intimidated at first, he wasn’t used to girls being so straightforward with him, but he couldn’t deny that being approached by a cute girl was very flattering.

“Hey Rob, can you make a nice cocktail for me and my friend?” She said flirtatiously, winking at the barman.
“Sure thing, honey. Take a seat.”
Kimberly climbed on one of the bar stools and crossed her legs, admiring how her silver glitter pumps twinkled under the light.
“You asked me to show you the L.A. music scene. That’s it, this is what young people like the most.”
“Really? Because all the members of the band look like clownish hookers, and… do you really call this music metal?”
“You can call it what you want, but it’s still the big new thing around here.” Kimberly replied, sipping her Tequila Sunrise. “If you exclude hardcore punk, but, ugh! Don’t tell me you’re into that, please.”
Dave chuckled and tried his drink. “Well, I hope there’s more to it than this anyway. I came here in hope of starting a band, but I’m not gonna get into… that.” He said, gesturing toward the stage. “Maybe I should have gone to New York.”
“Nay, New York is a wretched hive, and not nearly as fun as L.A.” Kimberly patted him on the shoulder. “You’re gonna be a rockstar, boy, if that’s what you want. You’re gonna do just fine here.”


Many days had passed since David had been forced to confront the reality of his ex-bandmates releasing their first album. He had made his decision; if he wanted to stop being dominated by Metallica, he would have to listen to the demo they had recorded together, again and again, until he became desensitized by overexposure.
Because it wasn’t possible, it simply wasn’t fucking possible that, just when he had started to feel better, those cocksuckers could knock him off his feet so easily. They existed, they were living their dream, but he had to go on with his life, for the godawful mess it was. Time to cut the strings. He pondered, and played the tape.

In the apartment below, Dave Ellefson and his friend Kimberly were studying peacefully, when they were interrupted by the sound of some music from above.
“I don’t believe it. God!” Dave burst out, covering his face with his hands.
“Is it… is this the mad neighbour you told me about?” Kimberly asked.
“Yes.” He sighed, “I’m sorry, Kim, I thought she had crawled under a rock or something after her last scene.”
“Well, you two have one thing in common, at least. You like your music loud. Like, through-the-walls loud.”
“I was beginning to hope I wouldn’t hear of that crazy chick anymore.”
Kimberly grinned mischievously. “Let’s go see her.”
“What?! Hell to the no! She doesn’t have all her marbles, and she’s rather aggressive.”
“C’mon, I wanna meet this infamous ginger menace. I promise I’ll protect you, so you won’t have to hit a lady.”
“She’s no lady.” Dave grumbled. “And this is a bad idea.”
“Oh, we need a little break anyway.” She said, moving towards the door. “I’m going alone if you don’t want to come.”
“Fine, let’s go, but I warned you.”

David Mustaine knew who was knocking at his door, there really was no guessing. And he didn’t want to answer, he’d rather the guy got tired and walked away, so he turned down the music and waited.
What he didn’t expect was the animated chatter of a female voice, asking to come in. He felt a pang of anger. Had the kid brought his chick to see ‘the Freak Show’? Well, he was ready to give them an encore of his angry outburst, maybe that would teach ‘em to stay away from him.

David flung the door open and gave the couple his best death glare. Unfortunately, while bassboy cowered, the girl grinned widely and greeted him.
“Hi, I’m Kimberly, a friend of Dave. We heard you play music while we were studying…”
“So what, was it too fucking loud?”
“I’ve already turned it down, so you can go back to playing footsie or whatever the hell you little virgins like doing, for all I care.” David tried to close the door, but Kimberly quickly stopped him.
“Ah, but you see, since you and Dave are buddies, you could at least tell us your name.”
“Buddies? I don’t know what the fuck he told you, but…”
“Well, you two have been sharing quite a lot. Music, strong feelings… albeit in a rather aggressive, unproductive and deranged manner.”
“I’m Vivien David, I prefer to be called David, but I’d rather you didn’t call me at all. Now fuck off.” David tried to shut the door again, but Kimberly stopped it once more. “Listen, girl, you’re seriously pissing me off right now.”
“Wait, isn’t this that Metallica album that freaked you out? Or… not exactly the same, but very similar?” Dave interceded, as he started paying actual attention to the music coming from the adjacent room; he recognized it as ‘Kill ‘em All’, yet there was something different to it.

David sighed in frustration, ”It’s a demo. Listen…” Quick and swift, Kimberly passed by him before he could react and sneaked into his apartment.
“Hey, hey, what do you think you’re doing?” David grabbed her by the elbow and pushed her backwards, but Kimberly stepped aside, slipping out of his grasp.
“I’m coming in. We can’t hold a conversation at the threshold, and since you didn’t have the courtesy to invite us in…”
“I don’t want to invite you in! I don’t want to have a fucking conversation! Get out of my house!”
“She is right, Kim, we should leave her alone.” Dave said, “Let’s go, we can’t force Vivien to talk with us, if she doesn’t want to.”

Kimberly lowered her eyes. At least she has the decency to look mortified, thought David.
“I’m sorry. Dave is right, we… I was very curious to meet you, but I’ve only antagonized you and made you uncomfortable. I’m way out of line.”
“You think I am some kind of freak, don’t you? You wanted to have a good laugh at me.” David pressed her.
“No, I simply wanted to understand what your deal was. Again, I was pushy and I’m sorry for that, but your whole behaviour is quite bizarre and baffling. And pretty hard to explain.”
“I don’t owe you any explanation!”
“Well, now, you barged into Dave’s apartment and had some weird breakdown in front of him. In addition to being generally rude and aggressive.”

David sighed again, this time in defeat. “Right, well… I’m sorry for that. And for being a dick and all the rest, I guess. I’ve had some very rough… months.” He opened the fridge, took three cans of beer and tossed two at his guests. “Come in, sit down, have a drink.”
“Wow, you even made an invitation sound like an order.” Kimberly laughed, dropping down the couch. “Sit down with me, Dave, we have some edges to smooth here.” She said, patting the vacant spot next to her.


The conversation flew rather smoothly, without big, embarrassing bumps; yet, Vivien didn’t go into details on her pet peeve about Metallica, and Dave had the feeling the redhead was keeping her guard up, cautiously evading any question about her past and her personal life.

“So you guys are school buddies. At first glance, you look like brother and sister.”
“We’re both cute as hell, right?” Kimberly laughed, “But no, we met at the BIT. I’m the one who’s taking it seriously, though; this guy here only wants to start a band and be a rockstar.”
“If you want to start a band here, you’re gonna need a pair of zebra spandex pants and much bigger hair.” David snorted.
“God, no, that’s the kind of band I absolutely don’t want to be in. I saw them play and no, just no.” Dave cackled. “I came here to play heavy metal, but Kim told me that here in L.A. it’s either those garish bands or punk rock.”
“You saw the posers; the fakest, shallowest, phoniest people that the metal world has ever regurgitated. Expensive thrills, flashy costumes and hot chicks are the beginning and the end of the entire L.A. metal scene.”
“Aren’t those things the beginning and the end of 90% of rock ’n’ roll?” Kimberly argued. “Most rock musicians aren’t but frat boys with guitars; vain, egotistical assholes. Give ’em enough fame and money and they’ll give you their worst.”
Dave raised an eyebrow. ”I thought you liked them; you happily go clubbing.”
“I don’t like them, I like their music. It’s fun, wild, upbeat, makes me want to party all night and seize the world. When I listen to it, I feel like there’s nothing I can’t do.”
David rolled his eyes. “Well, good for you that you feel that way. I hate them, and their music only pisses me off; there’s no real musicianship behind it.”
“What about that band that… um…” Dave mumbled.
“Metallica? They moved to the San Francisco Bay Area for a reason; that’s where good shit really happens, where you can find the real metal.” David explained. “Well, this was nice, but I have to get ready for work, so… get lost now.”

Shushed away by David, Kimberly and Dave went back to the bass player’s apartment.
“Aren’t you happy? We turned the crazy neighbour into a friend of some sort.”
“Sure, but… didn’t she seem a little secretive, to you? As if she was trying to hide something?”
“Quite so, but whatever, we can’t ask her to spill her guts during our first talk.” Kimberly shrugged. “Now the important things; what do we get for dinner?”
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