Kiss of Death- Dave Mustaine Fanfiction

Dont Leave Me Dry

Don't leave me high
Don't leave me dry
Don't leave me high
Don't leave me dry
Drying up in conversation
You will be the one who cannot talk
All your insides fall to pieces
You just sit there wishing you could still make love
They're the ones who'll hate you
When you think you've got the world all sussed out
They're the once who'll spit at you
You'll be the one screaming out - Radiohead

1983 was a huge year for both of us. This was when I would gain notoriety for playing Elvira in Scarface ,when I dyed my hair blonde again ,and be in my first big motion picture movie. Don't get me wrong The Evil Dead was huge for me, but it would never garner as much public reception as Scarface did. Along with this you finally formed your own band, Megadeth. You in your own words wanted to make it be 'the best thrash metal band with the fastest riffs and chord progressions'. Which was ambitious to begin with, but most importantly you wanted to decimate Metallica.

They just released their debut album, Kill 'Em All. They were beginning to garner their own small cult following with this album too. However, the real salt in the wound wasn't the fact that they kicked you out, effortlessly replaced you with that guitarist from Exodus, or abandoned you like some Leper. It was none of that. It was the sheer fact that on all of the track listings they didn't mention your name, despite the fact that most of those songs were written by you. Seeing this made your blood boil over and left you enraged. However, this only further motivated you to create your own record.
You hastily began to play at small local clubs where you played before with your local band mates. While Metallica was gaining more and more fame, your small band was rising up in thrash metal's underbelly. You and the rest of your band mates, Chris, Dave (who you nicknamed Junior), and Gar. You guys functioned well. That's all that really needs to happen to make a decent album and a decent band, but your relationship with these guys wasn't like how it was before. However, the only newly forged friendship that seemed to be quite brotherly was between you and Junior. You guys were practically inseparable. You both fuck with each other sure, but it was wholesome and family like. You'd mess with him or vice versa, but it'd never destroy or contaminate your relationship with him.
However, while all of this was great and all you got intoxicated several times a day. Drugs and alcohol was practically a part of your daily routine by this time. You were flying off the handles more and more frequently. But according to you this was the rockstar life. I didn't know if you were cheating on me by this time in our relationship ,but if you were to tell me you were now I honestly would believe it. Sex, drugs, and rock n roll. This was the lifestyle of any superstar. Doing this stuff was cool to you. Being high or drunk off your ass was cool to you. Hell, being surrounded by disease infected and makeup coated groupies was cool to you. This was the rockstar life you wanted. And you sure as hell were trying your damnedest to achieve it.
After, Scarface premiered I was instantly shoved full throttle and full force completely into the limelight. When I was younger this type of spotlight was something I required and something I thought would be amazing, but even though I was relatively new to the whole movie industry the bright flashes of light and the constant bombardment of personal questions and crude and untrue rumors was completely exhausting and tiring. However, despite all of this publicity I gained I refused to move on, leave you behind, and live in some yuppie apartment in the nicer part of LA. Every dollar I brought home from acting immediately went to you. I wanted you to prove those bastards in Metallica wrong, I wanted you to succeed in becoming an amazing Thrash Metal artist, but most importantly I wanted you to finally be genuinely proud of yourself. All your life so far had just been this fake macho man posturing and attitude. You always strived to be this badass metalhead who didn't give a shit about what other people said, who had access to all of the craziest drugs and women, and could do essentially what ever he so wanted or pleased. But in real life we both knew that you were this shy , introverted, and rather awkward person that was just trying to make his dream a reality. Not what ever this creature that constantly stood before me was.
However, one night what should've been a wake up call and made me truly realize the danger you were diving into and the true mortality that you had was when your father died. That night we got a call from your sister alerting us that your drunken abusive excuse of a dad was currently in the hospital. Me being the idiot I had allowed you to drive despite you being so heavily intoxicated. You swerved so quickly through the highway lanes, yet somehow safely making our way towards hospital inside the waiting room. Once we arrived your sister looked towards up wearily and was clearly tired. She alerted us of your father's condition stating that his liver was failing and he would most likely die due to all the alcohol in his system. However, as she got a better look of you she looked even more devastated than she was before.
"You're going to end up just like him." She started grimly. "You're going to be just like dad and kill yourself, Dave. And no one will be around to save you." She finished looking down towards her feet in acceptance yet in complete sadness.
I excused myself and made my way towards the local bathroom and began to cry in silence. This was true, but knowing you you'll just brush it off until you drink yourself into a stupor or overdose. This experience should've woken you up, but it didn't. And stupid me wouldn't confront you about it until a few years later in our careers.
Here you were believing the world has sussed you out, thinking that everyone was around you was there to spit at you and put you down, yet that was never truly the case. You were the one screaming out for attention , while, your insides started to wither away. You were drying up in conversation, and I think you knew that to despite how desperately you try to hide it. I have to admit for a while back then I was scared of the thought that you were going to leave me high and dry. Don't leave me high. Please don't leave me dry.