Chapter 2 - I owe you

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It was a sunny Tuesday, hungover from partying with Slash and Duff last night. They were fun and wild with little to no limits. It was always interesting to hang out with them, you got to meet cool people and listen to good music. You loved good music. 
The bright light almost felt as though it was mocking you, as you stepped outside the apartment building and toward your car. Gosh. Luckily you kept a pair of sunglasses in the glove compartment. 

You liked your job. It was okay. Not too stressful, with decent... I mean... almost decent pay, fun colleagues and usually nice customers. But you really, really didn't wanna stay there much longer. No, you were gonna study and get a real job and your own apartment. You were a smart young lady(or whatever pronouns you're using sorry) and managed to graduate high school with very good grades, despite some years of teenage rebellion and straying a bit off-track. But it wasn't because you hated school, or anything. You just had your own struggles. Childhood wasn't easy and you unfortunately can't choose your parents. So you had gotten away from them as soon as you got out of high school and moved to LA with Mia. 

To do what? Follow your dreams, or? 

Well, you weren't quite sure just yet. Hell, you loved music, but could only really play the piano, and you weren't one to stand in the limelight. Fuck no. But it was tempting and inspiring to hang around musicians and listen to live music in the bars. The LA scene was incredible.

"Hi, (Y/N)!" Dean waved you welcome when you entered the store.

"Hi Dean." You mumbled back as you went straight for one of the fridges and picked out a water bottle. 

"Don't forget to pay for that." He grinned at you, and you just shot him a mean glare. "What, rough night?"

You didn't reply, just took a sip from the cold water. Oh, heaven. Water is heaven.

"Headache?" 

You sighed. Obviously Dean didn't pick up on your signs to just, shut the fuck up today, please. 

"I'm kidding, Jesus, (Y/N)." Dean's grin was yet to fade. He was a couple of years older than you, a high school drop out with literally no plans for his future. Except for forcing you out on a date sometime. He was cute with his eyebrow piercing and short dark hair but he just wasn't your type. In fact, no one seemed to be. It was hard to find decent guys in LA and you knew your worth, didn't want to waste any time on boys. 

The doorbell rang, revealing the entrance of a woman with a kid by her side.

"Your move." You said to Dean, not quite ready to get on with the day yet. 

You hadn't been in LA for too long. What was it now, a month? Soon two, probably. That's how long you had been working at this 7-Eleven. 7-Eleven, out of all places. But it was the first place you called and you barely had to introduce yourself before you got the job. Sometimes you wondered if you were supposed to be like, a barista instead, or maybe work in a restaurant or something like that. It wasn't exactly fun to have to meet guys in bars and be like, 'Hi, I'm (Y/N), I work at your local 7-Eleven, swing by sometime and I'll give ya a free coffee'. It wasn't very impressive, really. It would sound a bit better to work as a waitress. Maybe. But now again, you were young, fresh out of school and you wanted to study psychology when you could afford it.

"You know, I'm not that good at holding down a job." Dean admitted.

You snapped out of your daydreaming to look at him. "You know, I'm not shocked."

He gave you a huge grin, like he usually did, and looked back at the hot dog he was currently grilling. "What, why not? Anyways, what is it, our two month anniversary as coworkers soon, right?"

Kirk Hammett x Reader  | Fade To BlackWhere stories live. Discover now