Page 47 of Punk Rock Reflection
“It’s a surprise,” Jessi said. “We wanted to do something to cheer you up.”
He had no idea why they kept saying he needed cheering up. He knew all of their little surprises were just an attempt to make him realize that his life was on track and on stage with Immortal Angel is exactly where he’s supposed to be. “I’m flying high. I don’t need cheering up. I just finished watching a kick-ass Metallica concert from the front row. I’m on top of the world!”
“Well, then, you’re about to skyrocket to the moon, mi amor,” Angel said, with a gigantic grin.
One of the security guards in the room clicked on the flat screen TV that hung on the wall and the end of the concert came into view. It was the encore, and Metallica was playing “Nothing Else Matters.”
“Oh my God! I never get to see the encore! This is fantastic!” Tommy stood in front of the TV screen and rocked his head back and forth to one of the most recognized songs of all times. When Metallica transitioned into “Enter Sandman,” Tommy almost lost his mind. He watched, mesmerized, as James Hetfield delivered the hypnotic lyrics. Tommy recited the nighttime prayer aloud, feeling every creepy word crawl up his back. When the song ended, the crowd went nuts, and he felt as if he were right there in the audience with them.
Tommy spun around and faced everyone. “That was amazing! Thank you so much, Kira, for getting these tickets and to whoever set this up. It made my night. I can’t believe I was ready to leave and would have missed this whole thing.”
The door opened, and Tommy turned to see who entered. He sucked in a breath and had to blink several times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. But he wasn’t. James Hetfield was in the room, and Tommy forgot to breathe.
Everything after that happened in a dream-like fog. One second, he was staring with disbelief at a legend. The next, he was in the limo on the way home cradling Papa Het’s white Gibson Explorer in his hands. He looked down at the signature, afraid to breathe in case condensation blurred the ink. “I can’t believe I’m sitting here holding James Hetfield’s guitar. I’m going to put it in a glass case and hang it on the wall in the entry foyer so it’s the first thing I see when I come into the house.” He paused for a second. “No. Wait. I’m going to make a special room for it in the studio and hang it in there.”
“Maybe it could be part of a collection, and the room could be like a museum,” Jessi suggested.
Tommy loved the idea, and he imagined adding instruments from other famous artists. Or maybe just guitars that were special to him. Or both.
“I love the light in your eyes, mi amor,” Angel said. “I don’t see it there that often anymore when it comes to music.”
Before Tommy had a chance to decipher Angel’s statement, Audra thrust her phone at him.
“I recorded the whole thing. You probably don’t remember half of the things you said to him. Or, rather, what he said to you. Watch it.”
Tommy took the phone from her and watched and listened to himself gush and practically bow down to a man who sat on the throne of heavy metal for decades, and who still wasn’t done in the industry. James Hetfield continued to stun the world, and no one ever tired of hearing him make music.
As the conversation progressed, and Tommy finally paused in his nonsensical babbling, it was James’ turn to speak. Audra was right. Tommy had been so caught up in the moment that he didn’t remember a thing that the Metallica idol had said to him, so he paid close attention. His jaw practically hit the floor at the compliments that he received from someone as amazing as James Hetfield. He was shocked that the man even knew who he was.
When the recording was done, Tommy slowly looked up and turned toward Angel in a daze. “Did James Hetfield really say that he was sorry I was giving up performing? That he loved my music?”
“Yes.” And everyone in the car nodded in agreement.
Audra took her phone back. “If you want to give up music, that’s fine. That’s your decision. But just know that you’re depriving the world of something very special.”
Life was good, and these last few months had been exceptional. Meeting James Hetfield had never been on Tommy’s bucket list because it seemed unattainable. The man was like royalty, and Tommy never thought an introduction was something within reach. Kira Abelman-Navarro certainly proved him wrong. Her connections in the music industry reached farther than he realized.
In the weeks that followed the Metallica concert, Tommy was at an all-time high, but it also made him wonder about his future goals again. He thought about how Jessi had told him not to worry about what comes next and enjoy the spontaneity of it and how his brother told him to live in the moment. They both offered him sound advice that worked, but it was only a temporary solution. His brain wasn’t wired that way. He liked concrete plans. Spontaneity wasn’t his way of life. He liked structure and knowing what came next.
His lack of future plans was weighing heavily on his mind this morning because they were in Atlanta and heading to the Rockstars’ Ball. He’d been looking forward to the ceremony because a new trophy would add to his list of achievements. Plus, he’d get to see his rock star idol, Brandon Bullet, who shared vocals on the track up for the award. But it also reminded him that, after today, there wasn’t anything on the horizon to check off his list of things to accomplish. Maybe that’s because there wasn’t anything on the list. He’d made several additional attempts to add things to the list he’d started that day by the pool, but he gave up after failing to find anything meaningful to write down.
He pushed the thoughts from his head, ready to enjoy the ceremony and the day ahead and whatever it may bring, but the heavy traffic caused the ride to drag, and it was taking forever for them to reach the Royal Peachtree Hotel where the awards were taking place. The Hummer limousine had been crawling down the last few blocks just to get to the entrance. They purposely chose not to stay at the same hotel as the Rockstars’ Ball in order to keep the kids away from the paparazzi, and it looked as if half the attendees had a similar notion.
Tommy peered out the window and stretched his neck in order to see past the line of limos ahead of them. Tyson Rainier, lead singer from Less Than Zero, exited a vehicle in front of the hotel, and paparazzi swooped in, adding to the holdup. As the Hummer inched closer, more rock stars and celebrities along the red carpet came into view. “I wonder if Bulletproof is here yet,” Tommy commented.
“Brandon texted me yesterday,” Angel replied. “They’ve been here for a few days. They arrived in Atlanta early to throw off the crowds at the airport.”
“Brandon texted you?” Tommy asked, surprised that Angel never mentioned it. And a little butthurt that Brandon reached out to Angel instead of him.
“Yes. He wants to get together after the ceremony.”
“Why didn’t you say anything? Why are you only bringing it up now?”
“Are you jealous?” Angel teased.
Of course, Tommy was jealous. Although he didn’t want to admit that he was both jealous of Angelandhis rock star idol. Not only did Brandon Bullet still leave him starstruck, but the incredible chemistry that Angel and Brandon shared on stage during the collaboration of “Sex & Greed,” albeit innocent, had left a knot in Tommy’s gut at the time.
Angel chuckled softly and placed a tender kiss on Tommy’s cheek. “As if anyone could ever steal even an ounce of the affection that I have for you. Tommy Blade, you are the light of my life. The only one who rivals my feelings for you is our gorgeous wife.”
