idea: dave has a crush on reader, but reader is kinda skittish and lowkey scared of him bc of his reputation as the big scary frontman of megadeth, so he tries to show reader that he's not a bad guy, lol (i hope i explained this properly)
Awww dude Dave is SUCH A SWEETHEART
𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 ¹⁹⁹³
There was creativity in the air the minute I walked in, humming along with the electrical wires. It was like going into some kind of beast's lair. And right at its heart, Dave Mustaine.
I knew Dave for a while, at least I liked to think so. We met through mutual friends, had shared some laughs. But the truth was, I didn't know him, not the way the world did. To me, he was just Dave, a man with a reputation that preceded him, a reputation that quite frankly terrified me just a little bit.
The stories told of him painted a picture in my mind of, ferocity, anger, impatience. And while I was drawn to him, mesmerized even, I couldn't help that I was getting too close to something dangerous.
So when he asked me to join him in the studio, I actually hesitated. But his voice was gentle, and before I knew it, the words were tumbling out in agreement off my mouth.
Now, here I was, standing in the middle of a darkened studio, feeling out of place, and unsure of what to do with myself. Dave stood across the room, adjusting his guitar to his back while he looked different here, he was meant to be here.
Scattered along the room was a few producers, as well as the other guys, David, Nick, and Marty. I fidgeted from one foot to another, not sure if I should say something or just fade into silence.
Then, Dave turned around, flashing me a small, hesitant smile. "Hey, I was starting to think you wouldn’t come," he said in a softer than normal almost…gentle tone of voice.
"Yeah… well I’m here," I said, my voice coming out softer than I really meant. When silence fell, I had to fight the urge not to bolt out of the room. But before I could do anything brash, Dave strode over the room, thrusting a pair of headphones at me.
"Here," he said, "I want you to hear something."
I took the headphones from him, careful not to touch his fingers. There was an uncomfortable meld of stress as well as warmth between us.
I carefully put on the headphones, and he hit a button on the console. Instantly, my ears filled with guitar. It was a new track they were working on, and it was…beautiful. Heavy, yes, but there was a melody in it that never failed to accompany a Megadeth song.
I glanced over at him, and he was staring straight at me, like my reaction meant more to him than anything else in the world. "It's really good, Dave," I smiled, and I meant it. His face relaxed, and he almost looked relieved.
“You think so?" he asked, and for the first time sounded uncertain of himself, which came as a rather big surprise coming from someone like him. I nodded, and he smiled again, his freckled cheeks crinkling slightly.
“It’s called A Tout Le Monde.”
Through the day Dave continued to surprise me. He was reserved around me, almost… shy. It was like he knew I was nervous and had been trying to put me at my ease in whatever way he could.
He asked me what I thought of the music, he was genuinely interested in my opinions, and whenever he spoke, it was a quiet voice, never once raising it, even when the band started arguing over some riff or another.
Whenever he had to leave the room, he'd give me this reassuring look, like, "I'll be right back, okay?”
At one point, on a break, he turned to me and asked me if I wanted tea. Not coffee, tea. I don't know why, but that made me smile. He was just sweet in this unexpected way, a very shocking change to his reputation.
He got it for me himself and brought it to me carefully so as not to spill a single drop. I could feel his eyes on me as I took a sip.
“Good?" he asked nervously.
"It's perfect," I said, giving him a sweet nod.
The longer I sat, the less concerned I was about the terrifying ‘idea’ of Mustaine. He glances at me throughout the day, and the guys could very much tell.
As night came quickly, the band began to pack up. Dave stayed around me, and I felt like he wanted to say something. There was something in the air, that made me want to punch myself to see if maybe it would stop.
"Are you doing anything next week?" he suddenly asked, a little too casual, trying to play it cool but failing.
"I don't think so, why?" I returned, my heart starting to quiver.
"Well, uh," he started off, scratching the back of his neck in a boyish way, "the American Music Awards are next week, and I was wondering if you'd want to go with me… As my date."
My heart basically melted, he was so cute. His cheeks were pink and his hazel eyes flicked between my face and the carpet.
He is a man who can snarl to the world and earn a crowds respect, and here he is, nervous and blushing while waiting for my answer.
I paused, not because I didn't want to go, but this was a side of Dave I hadn't expected. Dave Mustaine was asking me out, and my heart softened at his gentleness.
"I'd love to," I said finally, the biggest smile spreading over my lips.
"Great," he said, beaming wide. "I promise, it’ll be a good time."
“I know it will be.”
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