Fading to Black // Kirk Hammett

23. On With The Show

June 26th, 1984

-

I got released from the hospital a few days ago. Things between Dave and I were tense to say the least. He can be mad at me all he wants, but it doesn't take away the fact that it's hypocritical.

He was in the same spot, if not worse a little over a year ago. I get he was worried, but he doesn't need to practically ignore me over it.

I managed to get out of rehab, I just had to promise to sober up. Which I knew anyways, because it was getting out of hand. It's not easy though, I mean I thought I was doin' alright before, but now look at me.

What can I do though? It happened, I did it, just gotta get on with the goddamn show.

I was glad Cliff came, I honestly missed him more than I realized.

After I saw Cliff part of me was hoping that Kirk would be there, that he'd care, but he wasn't. Why would he be? He was happy without me and that was something I'd have to learn to try and live with.

Even tho he was undeniably pissed off at me, Dave literally won't leave me completely alone for even a minute. I guess that was part of the agreement though, 'you don't have to go to rehab unless you get sober under supervision' or some shit like that.

To be honest I wasn't really listening.

Dave decided to have us stay at my house. I haven't really been here since Kirk and I broke up, so he knew I didn't have shit hidden here. Although anything I had hidden at his place, I used the night I OD'd, so there wasn't anything really left there either.

It sucked, having to sit and actually process my emotions. I've never been good at it anyways, and when they were as intense as they were I just didn't know what to do. I guess the only way to really attempt to get over it, is to just deal with them.

... and drink alcohol.

... and smoke weed.

They never told me I had to cut off alcohol, just the heroin. Plus a lil weed never hurt anybody either.

I mean i'm not trying to constantly be fucked up, I'll stay sober as long as I can until it starts to be a little much. Then I'll just smoke a joint, and play guitar, and call it a night.

I tried to pick up guitar more again, which is helping a bit. I fell away from playing it when my addiction got bad.

I sat and played a few chords to Black Sabbath, on my unplugged guitar, momentarily hearing my door creak open.

"Hey." Dave walked in slowly with a heavy sigh, sitting down on the edge of my bed.

"Hi." I forced a smile at him before re-focusing on my guitar.

"Look I'm sorry for being a dick, okay?" He sighed.

"I get you're upset, and you were worried, Dave." I said as I stopped playing my guitar and looked at him. "but you were doing the same thing if not worse, just over a year ago. So could you just please go a little easier on me about it?"

"My bad, I don't want you to fucking kill yourself!" He scoffed, raising his voice.

I just sighed, I don't care enough to try and argue with him. I know I probably shouldn't have said that but I just want him to fucking get off my back. I just wanna sober up, and fucking forget it ever happened.

"Dave, I just wanna forget about it okay?" I said trying to remain calm, rubbing my forehead.

"No, fuck that! We're not just gonna forget it happened, so you can run and fucking do it again!" He snapped.

"Dave, just leave me alone man." I turned my attention back to my guitar.

He glared at at me before getting up and slamming the door.

I was about to go back to playing guitar when my phone started ringing.

"God can I just fucking play?" I screamed out in frustration.

I huffed and picked up the phone, "Hello?"

"Hailey?" Kirk's tired, shaky voice echo through the phone.

"Kirk?" I questioned quietly, trading carefully incase Dave was outside the door.

My jaw dropped, and my mind went blank. I thought I was gonna shit myself.

I don't know why he's calling, but I'm not gonna get hopes up or anything.

"How are doing? Are you feeling okay?" He asked with a voice full of concern.

"I'm okay Kirk," I said softly, smiling to myself a bit.

"Thank god, I was scared to death that you may not have made it. I'm happy you're okay." He spoke shakily.

"So, Cliff told you what happened?" I questioned embarrassed.

He paused for a moment, "Hailey, I was at the hospital babe." He said softly, sounding extremely confused.

"What? Why didn't you come in?" I sounded equally as confused as he did.

"Dave told me it wasn't a good idea." He sounded choked up as he said it.

That. Mother. Fucker.

"Hailey, I gotta go our shows starting in 10. I just really wanted to call." He sighed through the phone.

"Alright, Kirky. Thank you for checking in." I sighed awkwardly.

I know I should be mad at him, and I know I should hate him, but I just couldn't.

"When we get off tour next month, could we maybe just meet up and talk? I really need to talk to you, I have to explain some stuff." He questioned softly.

"Sure." I sighed.

We exchanged our goodbyes, and I hung up that phone.

I was beyond pissed. Why the fuck would he not tell me Kirk came to the hospital? Here I was left thinking he just couldn't care less about me.

I swung my door open and ran downstairs. Dave was sitting on the couch, watching TV, surrounded by empty beer cans.

"Why the actual fuck, did you not tell me Kirk came to the hospital?!" I snapped.

He looked at me and shrugged, "Didn't seem important."

I seriously couldn't believe him.

"Fuck you, Dave!" I shouted.

"When and where baby!" He shouted back sarcastically as I ran up the stairs.

Why the fuck wouldn't he just tell me?