One day in a music store, Wednesday Moore meets Kirk Hammett, a fellow metalhead. They bond over their love for uncommon music and horror. As time passes things escalate and the two are met with a tough decision. Will they risk their friendship for...
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October 5th, 7:23pm In town
Chapter 13: "The correct answer is always Coke."
"Where are you taking me?" Kirk asks, from the passenger seat of my car.
"To my secret murder house, of course," I say, glancing over at him with a grin, taking my eyes off the road for just a second before looking back.
"That sounds cool, maybe another day though," he laughs.
He is sat slightly turned to face me in his seat and although I'm probably wrong, it feels like his eyes have been glued on me this whole time.
"So, where are we going?"
"You'll see," I smile to myself, my eyes focusing on the road.
Since breakfast, we have spent the day together. We listened to music, talked, made lunch, and we did other stuff too but I don't remember it very well. When I'm with Kirk it feels like time melts into this abyss that I can't completely keep track of.
I pull up into a tiny parking lot. I try to find an available space and luckily there is one left.
I take off my seat belt and open my car door, once I'm out I pat the roof of the car twice, "Come on, Hammett."
Kirk gets out of the car, curiosity painted on his face as he looks around to see where we are, "What are we doing here?"
I give him a big smile and grab his hand before running towards the entrance of the candy store. Kirk stumbles as he tries to keep in pace with my running.
We slow down as we approach the entrance and I let go of Kirk's hand so that I can open the door for him, "Ladies first."
"Why thank you," he smiles and curtsies before walking in.
I bring the palm of my free hand to my forehead and slowly shake my head while I chuckle.
We walk into the store and my eyes immediately go to the shelf carrying the chips.
As usual, I pick up a bag of salt and vinegar chips, my favorite. Kirk stares at me in horror as I do so.
"What?" I ask.
"Wednesday, I don't think we can be friends anymore."
"Oh, come on, they're not that bad," I say, furrowing my eyebrows and holding onto the bag of chips.
