Far Beyond Broken

August 8, 1990. Wednesday

“Phil, people are already loving the album. You don't have to prove anything to those people. Just say what you have to say and leave. It will be fine.”
I watched as Phil paced back and forth in our tiny home.
“Shit. I'm nervous.”
I rubbed his back, “Don't be. Trust me, babe. It's amazing. Every song, every note. It's all perfect. If the interviewers don't like what you have to say, fuck em, right?” I gently kissed his lips. “Calm down baby, everything is alright.”
He smiled on my lips, “Yeah, fuck em.” He chuckled a bit, “I love you.”
“I know you do.”
He pulled his face away from mine, “You're such a shithead.”
“So are you. You have to go, now or you'll be late.”
“Oh well,” he started to pull me into a kiss.
“No. When you get back.”
“Come on Ka-”
“No, go. Now.”
Phil rolled his eyes and walked to the door.
“I love you too by the way. You'll be great.”

I jumped up to greet Phil as he walked through the door.
“How'd it go baby?” I engulfed him into a hug.
“It was good, the girl kept asking us stupid questions though.”
“That's their job, to be as annoying as possible. It will be worth it though, they're gonna broadcast that interview over so many stations.”
“I know, I know.”
“Imagine,” I moved my hand in front of his face as if I was creating an image. “Metallica and Slayer, opening for Pantera. The new metal band that has taken the world by surprise.”
He laughed at the thought.
“In your dreams,” he plopped down on the couch, taking me down with him.

We went to bed early that night. I had a suspicion that Phil wasn't sleeping. I rolled over and saw him lying on his back, staring at the ceiling.
“What is it?” I rubbed his chest.
“Be honest with me. Don't just tell me what I want to hear cause you're my girlfriend.”
“I won't.”
“Do you think this is it? Is this what will get us started?”
I took a minute before responding. “Yes, I do. This isn't like any of your other albums. Cowboys from Hell is what you all have wanted to make forever. It just took some time. Getting rid of the glam shit is the best decision y'all have ever made. Y'all aren't cut out for that. Honestly, I feel like the glam is what has been holding you all back from the get-go. You know me, I wouldn't have put in so much time helping you with this if I didn't think it would be worth anything,” I said with a laugh.
“Thanks,” he rolled over and kissed me.
I had spent the past year and a half listening and suggesting things to the guys about their songs. I barely worked with my band within that time. We played, maybe, one a gig a week. Vic and Mad would write the songs and I would come into the studio to record my parts. It was effecting our relationship.
Although, no one was asking me to choose between the band and my boyfriend, I felt as if I needed to pick.
The thought was constantly nagging in the back of my brain, and I knew my answer, if I was ever asked to make a decision.