Rolling Tragedy

BY : Winter
Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Metallica
Dragon prints: 782
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Metallica. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

This, right here, is a whole new endeavor for me. It's my first Metallica fic, my first serious fic, and my first time using all thoughts. I hope it is enjoyed by all, but since I know there's room for improvement, constructive criticism would be MUCH appreciated.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. I don't know them. I can't afford them.

Note: The story alternates between the thoughts of Jaymz and Cliff.



Sept. 14, 1986


Jaymz Hetfield, my friend, my bandmate, and the man who's gonna make aspirin the main staple of my diet, is sitting in the darkest corner of the darkest, dingiest bar I have ever been in. I don't know how either of us found this hole, but when I saw the kick marks on the doors and the loose women floating around outside, I knew he was in there. He probably figured I'd never want to step foot in a place like this (which would normally be true), but I'm willing to do damn near anything for him. Pity the only thing he want's is what I can't, wont give him. My love and my body. And now I get to rescue his sorry ass from his sorry self. Go Cliff.


I'm thinking again. And it's bothering me. There's lots to think about, and I don't want to think about any of it, but since my alcohol induced haze wont let me control my brain, or my limbs, or anything else for that matter, I think I'll let the thoughts continue. Hey. I'm fucking… Hetfield. That's my name. I should control my thoughts. They're mine. Fuckers. Oh, shit, I hope I can at least control my bladder. Hehehe.

Look at all the people. They talk funny. They're Brittish. I remember now. I think I'll watch them and rot.

~ 5 pints of beer and 1hr. later ~

Wow. English people sure are funny. Who'da thunk it? Words are funny, too. Oy, I think I've had enough to drink. Or not, I'm still thinking of Cliff. And since that's the real him coming at me, I'm gonna hafta drink meself off the table to stop the thinking. Off the table? No, but I think I'm gonna do just that anyway. Where's my beer go? Here beer. Beery beer. There you are. There you go. There you went. Cliff, you shit, gimme.

Cliff's talking to me. He's pissed, because he's scowling. I feel bad that he's pissed, but I'm too drunk to do anything about it. I'm drunk because I can't cry, so I drink. And then I'm drunk.

Where are we? He's dragging me down a street. Your shoulder is digging into my ribbs. Wadda ya mean, it's my fault? Eat me. No, really. Eat me.

I'm sorry. Talk to me. Please?

Cliff, why're you pissed? And why don't you love me? You should, you know. I love you. You're the best, man, and you're all mine. Everyone says so. Everyone but you. You say you love me like a brother, and you love women like women. Well, fuck you. Would you fuck me if I looked like Kirk? Have you ever fucked Kirk? Now that'd be funny. Kirk and Cliff, sitting in a tree, K*I*S*S*I*N*G…

Opps. Now you're madder. I guess I should have made sure my mouth was shut before thinking that.

How long have we been walking?

Can we keep walking forever?

Just you and me?

I love you Cliff



Sept. 15 Early morning




Dear Lord, Jaymz, You weigh a fucking ton. Looking into your eyes, I can see that you're sobering up a bit. That's good, because I'm tired of walking, and I'm sure as hell not taking you back to the bus drunk. The last thing I need tonight is you trying to get in bed with me again.


Wow. I can see the ocean from here. Thank god I'm having to drag you around in Dublin, I don't know how much longer I could have gone without seeing something of the sea. It's beautiful, you know. And it makes this place smell like home. Here comes the sun, turning it all different shades of blue. Just like your eyes.

Oh, shit, here we go, again. I look into your eyes, and you think you have a chance. Thanks for breaking the moment, dick.


No. It was there. I saw it. Bring it back. I'll do anything! Cliff, you were gazing into my eyes. You were, and now you're mad, and it's all I can do not to cry.

I can't look at you anymore. You're lying to both of us, and it's ripping a huge hole in my chest.

Oh, now I remember why I'm always staring at you. If I look away from you, I make eye contact with other people, and I don't like other people.

That hobo has the same hair as you, dude. Same scowl, too.

No, look, Cliff.



Uh, Cliff. I think I pissed him off.

I think we're in trouble, Cliff. Stop staring at the ocean, man, and help me out here.

Wow… that's trippy. I looked into his eyes again, and they glowed or something. Maybe they just changed colors, or something. He's making me nervous. I don’t feel so good. I feel really weird.


What? Oh, good, you can stand on your own.

The hell? What's with you and the homeless guy? Why are you staring at eachother? What'd I miss this time?

Are you okay?

Seriously, Jaymz, you're freaking me out.

Let's get you back to the bus. We're real close. I can see it. Stop the staring contest with the homeless guy. We have a gig up north tonight, and although you may just be singing, some of us have to play. And here I thought skateboarding was a good diversion for you.


I guess I really am sobered up, I got up the bus steps just fine. Although, I nearly fell asleep part way up.

Stop looking at us, Lars. I'm going to sleep.

Bunk. Clean sheets. Sleep. Good.

Lars. Bad.


Lars talking. Very bad.


No, short shit. Cliff didn't rough me up again. Are we short on brains, as well? Wadda ya mean my voice sounds high? Fuck you. Get lost.






There he goes, he's walking funny. Like his shoes are too big. His ass looks big in those pants. Maby it's the pants.

Not a word to anyone. As usual. So, I get to explain. Or not. I'm too damn tired.






Guess I'll go explain.

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