A Note Don't Come Easy, chapter 33
I hadn't seen or spoken to Billie Joe since he had confessed everything to me, and even then he didn't know that I had been awake. Tre had talked to me briefly on the phone, checking up on me every so often to make sure that I was ok. Infact, every time the phone rang I knew that it would most probably be the drummer. Only once had I had a visit, which was from Mike on his way back from getting a Taco Bell take away.
It had been 2 days since I had been submitted into the hospital that eventful morning in Billie Joe's blood stained arms.
I sat on the edge of my hospital bed, all bandaged up and a few things that the guys had sent me packed together in a small carrier bag. I looked over my arms nervously as I waited for Mike to collect me and take me back with him.
The guys of Green Day had a photo shoot planned for the day, so he couldn't really sit and talk to me properly - which in a way was good because I wasn't ready for the judgements of my actions.
I tapped my fingers against my knees as I waited for the bass player to turn around the corner and into my room. Looking up at the clock every so often, I thought about everything that had happened in the last 60 so hours.
It had all just happened so god dam quickly. It hurt my head to even think about it. And to even think that I had nearly killed myself and put Billie Joe through that state of depression was enough to give me brain damage.
I started twiddling my thumbs in anticipation, thinking about what I was going to do for the rest of the day on my own in the hotel.
There was a click at the door and the familiar figure of Mike Dirnt sneaked around the corner and into my room.
"Hey," he cooed, smiling. "You ready to go kid?"
It felt so different to hear Mike call me kid instead of Billie Joe. When Billie Joe said it, it had a different feeling to it then in the term of what Mike used. Mike used it as a nickname, whereas it was like my title to Billie - like a term for him wanting me.
"Yeah." I replied sighing shakily before looking into his eyes. "Yeah, lets go."
Mike thanked the nurses one last time, before walking me down the stairs and out into the parking lot, as I wasn't that overly keen on elevators. I clutched tightly of the carrier bag with my belongings in, Mike trying to make a conversation without neither of us feeling awkward. But we were both thinking about the same and I knew that some time soon, one of us was going to say something.
He opened up the passengers seat to the car and I hoped in, an awkward silence falling upon me as the bassist closed the door and ran around to jump in the other side.
"What's wrong?" He asked, gripping hold of the steering wheel and looking at my saddened face.
"The car." I whispered. "It's the one you used when you found me."
He looked down into his lap, not knowing what to say.
"Yeah, we kinda needed to clean it up."
I could imagine. It had been covered with blood.
He leant forward and turned on the ignition, taking hold of the wheel of the car again and rolling us out of the parking lot.
For at least 5 minutes we were both silent. Mike concentrated on driving whilst I stared blankly at the window - so confused inside.
"You know," he said, breaking the silence but keeping his eyes on the road in front of him. "I'm not trying to feel sympathy for Billie or anything, because he WAS an arsehole, but he never tried anything with Rachael. He never touched her and he -- "
"I know." I cut him short, not being able to look at him.
I didn't want to hear it anymore. The fact that Billie Joe had stayed true to me all this time whilst I had tried to kill myself over him was just too much to handle.
I slowly looked up at him, my eyes starting to sting as I repeated myself;
"I know."
"I'm not trying to say what you did was wrong, or that it was right. I respect your wishes and I understand that you were hurt a lot by him. If that's your way of dealing with it then, fine. But he is generally sorry Stef. For everything. He knows he's fucked up real bad, and believe me, I think he's changed. This time I think he's realised what he's done and what he has left to do."
I wondered for a moment whether Billie Joe had actually changed or whether he was just saying that and within a few days things would be back to routine.
Billie Joe saying he loves me, Billie Joe kissing me, Billie Joe taking me to bed, Billie Joe becoming distracted, Billie Joe denying anything that had just had happened, Billie Joe ignoring me, Billie Joe denying that he has feelings and totally blanking them.
Only leaving them to eat away at him.
"I know it's hard," he continued when I didn't answer. "But he does love you. I'm not saying totally forget about what's happened and start again because you can't. It would be un-human to. I'm just saying listen to him and maybe, if you're feeling up to it, give him another chance."
I continued to listen only as I stared out of the window, not wanting him to see the tears that were forming in my glazed eyes.
"Dam, I know if I were you I would be angry at him." Mike sighed, his shoulders raising a little as we turned a corner. "But, he IS generally sorry."
He's always sorry though, I thought in my head. Every time he says it and I fall for it, too many times. It hurts so much.
Is it possible to forgive someone over and over again?
"He, ... he does... love you... Stef," Mike mumbled softly thinking situations over in his mind.
At this, I turned my head up from the window and stared at him, gulping back tears, my mind not being able to take the emotional pressure.
"He really does, he's just... he's just confused. He doesn't know what he wants right now."
I hang my head a little in shame, my eyes falling over my bandaged arms, reminding me of what I had been put through to receive them.
"You shouldn't cut anymore. It'll just remind you of the terrible time you went through to get that. You'll always have the scar to tell you. A mind can be mended, but a scar can't."
It rang out like an alarm to me, because I would be stuck with the scars forever and I would never be able to escape the darkness I had felt when I had put that blade to my hand.
I clasped my hand around one of my arm, cradling it and cursing myself for being so fucking stupid in even looking at that knife.
Fucking dipshit. You dipshit. You fucking dispshit Stef. YOU FUCKING DIPSHIT YOU SHITFACE. You dipshit in trying to kill yourself. You fucking dispshit. DIPSHIT. What about Billie Joe? Did you ever stop to think about him Stef? Did you, huh? Dipshit. DIPSHIT.
I bit my bottom lip, my lips rugged and torn from biting it so much and crying.
"But Tre and I will always be here for you 'kay?" He assured me, taking one of his hands off of the steering wheel and placing it on my knee, still driving with one hand. "We'll always be here to help. And I wanna say sorry too. Sorry for not opening my god dam eyes and realising that something was wrong between you two. To be honest, I wasn't that updated enough that as how far things had gone. I knew that something was going on, like a little lust and maybe yes, you loved him. But, I don't know... I don't know what goes on between you two every second. But now everything's so clear. And as much as he's an arse for cheating on Adrienne, I know that you two are great for each other. I know he wants you. It's gone on far too long bottled up, and now it's just all out in the open and I think Billie Joe's realised the situation and how he feels."
"I love him." I simply said, my voice cracking. "I love him Mike."
I sniffed a little as he replaced his second hand back onto the steering to take us onto another highway.
"I know you do Stef. I know you do."
Turning into a boulevard from off of the highway, he drove into the parking lot of the hotel and found a temporary parking space. I unhitched my seatbelt and opened the door, stepping out onto the concrete, the sky slightly black and grey, yet a peak of sunshine appearing from a corner.
Mike jumped out too and casually flung his door shut, walking around the front of the vehicle and walking up next to me as we hopped up the giant steps that led to the entrance. He leaned forward, pushing the glass door open for me and letting me pass under his arm.
"Thanks." I grumbled as I entered the polished lobby.
For some reason, I was expecting everyone to turn around and stare at me endlessly for what I had done, like they all knew. But no one barley realised us standing there. Looking around nervously, I slowly took a few steps forward and headed towards the stairwell, avoiding any eye contact with the hotel staff or passers by in case they put two and two together. In case they realised that I was the crumpled heap that had been in Billie Joe Armstrong's arms a couple of days ago. Mike strode close behind me, almost like my bodyguard. We entered the stairwell, taking a deep sigh of relief as we disappeared from anyone's view.
"You ok?" He asked, seeing me flutter my eyes in discomfort.
"Yeah, just a bit... erm awkward ya' know?" I explained, frowning as I took hold of the banister and started pacing up the stairs.
"Yeah."
We finally reached the 8th floor, throwing my weight against the stairwell door a little. Mike still close behind me, I dragged my feet towards my room that was situated in the corridor corner. I stopped outside of it and stared at it a while, not knowing whether I could mentally handle being in the same room where I had tried to kill myself. A hand leaned to in front of my face, my room key placed inside of it.
"You might want this." Mike added, opening his hand up and dropping the key inside of my own.
"Thanks Mike." My bottom lip trembled.
"Anytime princess." He offered, smiling sweetly.
That did it. Without even looking to see where I was heading, I swilled around suddenly and flung myself tightly around the stronger member of Green Day. I let out a pitiful sob, wanting to cry so much because I was so hurt, confused and angry.
"Hey, it's ok." He spoke softly, leaning his head into the crook of my neck and crossing his arms around me. "Someone will always be here for you ok? No matter what. Just call me or come and get me if you want anything. Anything at all. You don't have to ask for anything. Ok?"
I nodded, still wrapped in Mike's arms and so grateful that they hadn't turned me away or thought of me any different.
"I love you Mike." I whimpered, blubbering my words a little.
"I love you too Stef. You're so a great kid. I... I love you like my own."
I hung onto his words forever, wanting him to know how much I really did love him; the same as I did Tre, but it was kind of different for Billie Joe.
"I never want to go." I babbled in between sobs and cries, resting my head into his chest.
"Me neither Stef. Me neither."
I said a tearful goodbye to him as he headed back down the stairs to get back into the car and drive to the studio for the day's work. I watched him disappear down the corridor before I fumbled with the key, ramming it into the lock and opening up the door to my room.
I timidly stepped in, closing the door quickly behind me and pressing my head against it as I leaned onto the door. I sighed deeply, everything happening so fast that I didn't want to move in case it hurt.
I slowly turned around and faced my room; to my surprise everything was spotless. I placed my small carrier of presents in the corner, looking around. There was not a trace of blood, torn up Green Day posters, thrown belongings or a piece of trashed furniture anywhere. I stepped further into the room, it was all so neat. It was like I had just stepped into the room for the first time. I turned around to look at everything, not quite understanding how I got away with trashing the place. I stopped as I came across the desk, a card stood placed in the middle. I reached out to look at it, opening it up to read;
'Dear Stef,
Hope You Get A Lot Better Soon
We're always here to help and we love you lots
Mike and Tre.'
But not Billie Joe. There was no sign of Billie Joe's name. Another lump appeared in my throat suddenly, choking me back again. I studied the front of the card, a picture of flowers and a teddy bear decorating it.
I put the card back onto the desk, standing it up again and looking around to find a clean vase of roses on the bedside table, and a teddy placed in between the two cushions to my bed.
Then it dawned on me that it must have been them who had cleared up my room. That's why I hadn't been banned or fined from the hotel yet for property damage. But something was lurking in the back of my mind.
What had Billie Joe done? Who had brought the roses? Were those from him? Or were all of this down to Mike and Tre?
I sat on the edge of the bed, slowly lowering myself down until I sat into the duvet, staring confusingly around my room. I didn't know what was going on at the moment. Everything was so out of control and I couldn't do anything to stop it or to even change things.
Suddenly, I let out a whimper of defeat, clasping my arms tightly around myself and rolling the sleeves to my hoody over my hands. Tears started to roll down my face once again, as I looked back at the vase of roses, then at the teddy bear, grabbing hold of it and hugging it tightly, because I was so lost at the moment. So hurt and confused, the small bear being the only that I could hug without there being complications. I lay back from my sitting position and curled up into a ball at the top of the bed around the pillows. I sobbed uncontrollably, holding tight to the bear as I continuously stared up at the roses, wondering whether Billie Joe was the one who had brought them for me, or whether it was just the fact that the other two felt sorry for me.
As much as I loved Mike and Tre and were grateful towards them, my heart longed for them to be from Billie Joe.
Because right now I needed to know if Billie Joe still wanted anything to do with me, because now it was ripping me up inside at the thought that I had lost him for good.
Lost him forever, and that was exactly why I had tried to kill myself in the first place.
* * * * * * * *
I lay on my stomach on my bed, with a box of chocolates sitting comfortably beside me. Another present Tre had given to me whilst in hospital, but I had never eaten them because I always felt so sick in there. It would have been a waste of chocolate and Tre's appreciation. My eyes fixed upon MTV, I could feel myself slowly drifting off in my own world, part of me wanting to sleep, the other wanting to stay awake.
I picked another truffle form the box and popped it into my mouth, munching on it lightly as I once again felt my eyelids droop for a second.
The phone in my room started to ring on my desk, it's tone screeching through out my room and alerting me. Not moving at first, I stared at it wondering who it could be, and whether or not I wanted to answer it. As it refused to stop ringing, I pounded my fist into the duvet in order to lift myself off of the bed and reach over to pick it up, resting to a sitting position again on the end of my bed.
"Hello?" I answered quietly, my eyes darting around the room.
"Stef!" Mike cried suddenly.
"Mike! What... what's wrong?" I asked, hearing his anxiety.
"Is Billie Joe with you?"
"What?"
"Just tell me!" He yelled back. "Is Billie Joe with you?"
"No." I answered, not fully understanding him.
"Oh shit... " I heard him mumble to himself, his voice becoming quieter.
"Why? Should he?" I asked, wanting to know what was going on. "Mike?"
There was a noise of shuffling, nobody answering me or bothering to tell me what was going on.
"Mike!" I screamed down the phone at him.
"Yeah?" I replied, his voice shaky but trying to sound casual.
"Where's Billie Joe?"
No answer.
"Mike! Tell me please! Is he hurt? Is he ok? What's wrong?"
"It doesn't matter. Don't worry, I'll erm... sort it out."
"Mike, NO!" I pleaded franticly. "What's happening? Tell me what's going on!"
Again, there was another long pause.
"Mike! Where's Billie Joe?!"
"I... " he stuttered after a few seconds silence again. " I don't know."
"You don't know?! You don't know!" I panicked. "What d'ya' mean, you don't know?!"
"I... I don't know." He whispered again awkwardly.
"You don't know! You don't know?! You must know!"
"I don't know." He just repeated again, not knowing what else to say.
"Mike, what's going on?" I pleaded desperately, starting to fear for the worse and whimper. "What's happening? Where's Billie Joe?"
But I already knew the answer to that one. He didn't know.
How could he not know where the guitarist was? They were meant to be doing a photo shoot. Where else could he be on his own?
"Just turn on your TV Stef." He sort of sobbed, worrying like hell.
"It is on." I told him, turning my head to face the tube that was to my right.
"Put it on a news channel."
I immediately grabbed hold of the remote off of the bed, stretching back to retrieve it and flicking the channel over to CNN. With the phone still clutched to my ear, there was another moment's silence as my eyes glued to the screen, widening.
It was a nightmare. I read the bottom of the screen not being able to believe it. It was one thing after the other. Nothing was ever settled or simple. I gulped back, my grip tightening around the phone in horror as my knuckles turned white. My eyes started to sting, but I felt too shocked to cry. I felt more towards being scared; for both Billie Joe and I.
I read the bottom of the screen, updates continuously appearing after few minutes with more news on the incident.
TERROR ATTACK ON AMERICA IN PHILADELPIA. 4 EXPLOSIONS IN THE CITY. AT LEAST 17 DEAD. 45 SERIOUSLY INJURED.
Oh shit.
My heart beat wildly inside of me, wanting to throw up everywhere. I watched as video footage played on the screen, smoke billowing everywhere in between the buildings and polluting the sky amongst the blackened clouds that were already there. People ran screaming everywhere, emergency services darting all over the place, sirens screeching out along with the desperate cries and curses to God above for what was happening. It had finally happened.
I suddenly remembered the day when I had watched the news back in the old hotel, where there had been a threat to another terrorist attack. The day Billie Joe had found out about how Tre and I had robbed a shop and how we hid when the cops knocked on our door. The day Billie Joe rejected me after I had gotten through to the third audition. I saw myself in my head sitting there watching it, feeling the same anger and terror I had felt back then. As well as the confusion and hurt from Billie Joe.
I heard Mike cough on the other end of the phone, my concentration still focused on the hellish ordeal that was unfolding in front of me on the screen. I hoped and prayed with everything I had. Mike didn't need to tell me. It was already figured out inside my head. And I hated what I saw. Hated it more than I hated Rachael and Jimmy. I felt tears filling up my eyes and glazing them over. The strain of trying not to cry causing them to bloodshot.
"Mi - Mike... ?" I stuttered over my words.
"Yeah?"
I could tell it from his voice that he was stirred and just as worried as I was.
"Where's Billie Joe?" I whimpered, feeling my bottom lip tremble.
I clutched the phone to the side of my face still, never looking away from the tube in case I missed something. Hoping that all of this was just a mistake.
"I don't know." He replied, also sounding like he was about to burst out crying.
"He's in that isn't he?" I said, fearing the worst and not wanting to hide the truth.
"I don't know."
It had been 2 days since I had been submitted into the hospital that eventful morning in Billie Joe's blood stained arms.
I sat on the edge of my hospital bed, all bandaged up and a few things that the guys had sent me packed together in a small carrier bag. I looked over my arms nervously as I waited for Mike to collect me and take me back with him.
The guys of Green Day had a photo shoot planned for the day, so he couldn't really sit and talk to me properly - which in a way was good because I wasn't ready for the judgements of my actions.
I tapped my fingers against my knees as I waited for the bass player to turn around the corner and into my room. Looking up at the clock every so often, I thought about everything that had happened in the last 60 so hours.
It had all just happened so god dam quickly. It hurt my head to even think about it. And to even think that I had nearly killed myself and put Billie Joe through that state of depression was enough to give me brain damage.
I started twiddling my thumbs in anticipation, thinking about what I was going to do for the rest of the day on my own in the hotel.
There was a click at the door and the familiar figure of Mike Dirnt sneaked around the corner and into my room.
"Hey," he cooed, smiling. "You ready to go kid?"
It felt so different to hear Mike call me kid instead of Billie Joe. When Billie Joe said it, it had a different feeling to it then in the term of what Mike used. Mike used it as a nickname, whereas it was like my title to Billie - like a term for him wanting me.
"Yeah." I replied sighing shakily before looking into his eyes. "Yeah, lets go."
Mike thanked the nurses one last time, before walking me down the stairs and out into the parking lot, as I wasn't that overly keen on elevators. I clutched tightly of the carrier bag with my belongings in, Mike trying to make a conversation without neither of us feeling awkward. But we were both thinking about the same and I knew that some time soon, one of us was going to say something.
He opened up the passengers seat to the car and I hoped in, an awkward silence falling upon me as the bassist closed the door and ran around to jump in the other side.
"What's wrong?" He asked, gripping hold of the steering wheel and looking at my saddened face.
"The car." I whispered. "It's the one you used when you found me."
He looked down into his lap, not knowing what to say.
"Yeah, we kinda needed to clean it up."
I could imagine. It had been covered with blood.
He leant forward and turned on the ignition, taking hold of the wheel of the car again and rolling us out of the parking lot.
For at least 5 minutes we were both silent. Mike concentrated on driving whilst I stared blankly at the window - so confused inside.
"You know," he said, breaking the silence but keeping his eyes on the road in front of him. "I'm not trying to feel sympathy for Billie or anything, because he WAS an arsehole, but he never tried anything with Rachael. He never touched her and he -- "
"I know." I cut him short, not being able to look at him.
I didn't want to hear it anymore. The fact that Billie Joe had stayed true to me all this time whilst I had tried to kill myself over him was just too much to handle.
I slowly looked up at him, my eyes starting to sting as I repeated myself;
"I know."
"I'm not trying to say what you did was wrong, or that it was right. I respect your wishes and I understand that you were hurt a lot by him. If that's your way of dealing with it then, fine. But he is generally sorry Stef. For everything. He knows he's fucked up real bad, and believe me, I think he's changed. This time I think he's realised what he's done and what he has left to do."
I wondered for a moment whether Billie Joe had actually changed or whether he was just saying that and within a few days things would be back to routine.
Billie Joe saying he loves me, Billie Joe kissing me, Billie Joe taking me to bed, Billie Joe becoming distracted, Billie Joe denying anything that had just had happened, Billie Joe ignoring me, Billie Joe denying that he has feelings and totally blanking them.
Only leaving them to eat away at him.
"I know it's hard," he continued when I didn't answer. "But he does love you. I'm not saying totally forget about what's happened and start again because you can't. It would be un-human to. I'm just saying listen to him and maybe, if you're feeling up to it, give him another chance."
I continued to listen only as I stared out of the window, not wanting him to see the tears that were forming in my glazed eyes.
"Dam, I know if I were you I would be angry at him." Mike sighed, his shoulders raising a little as we turned a corner. "But, he IS generally sorry."
He's always sorry though, I thought in my head. Every time he says it and I fall for it, too many times. It hurts so much.
Is it possible to forgive someone over and over again?
"He, ... he does... love you... Stef," Mike mumbled softly thinking situations over in his mind.
At this, I turned my head up from the window and stared at him, gulping back tears, my mind not being able to take the emotional pressure.
"He really does, he's just... he's just confused. He doesn't know what he wants right now."
I hang my head a little in shame, my eyes falling over my bandaged arms, reminding me of what I had been put through to receive them.
"You shouldn't cut anymore. It'll just remind you of the terrible time you went through to get that. You'll always have the scar to tell you. A mind can be mended, but a scar can't."
It rang out like an alarm to me, because I would be stuck with the scars forever and I would never be able to escape the darkness I had felt when I had put that blade to my hand.
I clasped my hand around one of my arm, cradling it and cursing myself for being so fucking stupid in even looking at that knife.
Fucking dipshit. You dipshit. You fucking dispshit Stef. YOU FUCKING DIPSHIT YOU SHITFACE. You dipshit in trying to kill yourself. You fucking dispshit. DIPSHIT. What about Billie Joe? Did you ever stop to think about him Stef? Did you, huh? Dipshit. DIPSHIT.
I bit my bottom lip, my lips rugged and torn from biting it so much and crying.
"But Tre and I will always be here for you 'kay?" He assured me, taking one of his hands off of the steering wheel and placing it on my knee, still driving with one hand. "We'll always be here to help. And I wanna say sorry too. Sorry for not opening my god dam eyes and realising that something was wrong between you two. To be honest, I wasn't that updated enough that as how far things had gone. I knew that something was going on, like a little lust and maybe yes, you loved him. But, I don't know... I don't know what goes on between you two every second. But now everything's so clear. And as much as he's an arse for cheating on Adrienne, I know that you two are great for each other. I know he wants you. It's gone on far too long bottled up, and now it's just all out in the open and I think Billie Joe's realised the situation and how he feels."
"I love him." I simply said, my voice cracking. "I love him Mike."
I sniffed a little as he replaced his second hand back onto the steering to take us onto another highway.
"I know you do Stef. I know you do."
Turning into a boulevard from off of the highway, he drove into the parking lot of the hotel and found a temporary parking space. I unhitched my seatbelt and opened the door, stepping out onto the concrete, the sky slightly black and grey, yet a peak of sunshine appearing from a corner.
Mike jumped out too and casually flung his door shut, walking around the front of the vehicle and walking up next to me as we hopped up the giant steps that led to the entrance. He leaned forward, pushing the glass door open for me and letting me pass under his arm.
"Thanks." I grumbled as I entered the polished lobby.
For some reason, I was expecting everyone to turn around and stare at me endlessly for what I had done, like they all knew. But no one barley realised us standing there. Looking around nervously, I slowly took a few steps forward and headed towards the stairwell, avoiding any eye contact with the hotel staff or passers by in case they put two and two together. In case they realised that I was the crumpled heap that had been in Billie Joe Armstrong's arms a couple of days ago. Mike strode close behind me, almost like my bodyguard. We entered the stairwell, taking a deep sigh of relief as we disappeared from anyone's view.
"You ok?" He asked, seeing me flutter my eyes in discomfort.
"Yeah, just a bit... erm awkward ya' know?" I explained, frowning as I took hold of the banister and started pacing up the stairs.
"Yeah."
We finally reached the 8th floor, throwing my weight against the stairwell door a little. Mike still close behind me, I dragged my feet towards my room that was situated in the corridor corner. I stopped outside of it and stared at it a while, not knowing whether I could mentally handle being in the same room where I had tried to kill myself. A hand leaned to in front of my face, my room key placed inside of it.
"You might want this." Mike added, opening his hand up and dropping the key inside of my own.
"Thanks Mike." My bottom lip trembled.
"Anytime princess." He offered, smiling sweetly.
That did it. Without even looking to see where I was heading, I swilled around suddenly and flung myself tightly around the stronger member of Green Day. I let out a pitiful sob, wanting to cry so much because I was so hurt, confused and angry.
"Hey, it's ok." He spoke softly, leaning his head into the crook of my neck and crossing his arms around me. "Someone will always be here for you ok? No matter what. Just call me or come and get me if you want anything. Anything at all. You don't have to ask for anything. Ok?"
I nodded, still wrapped in Mike's arms and so grateful that they hadn't turned me away or thought of me any different.
"I love you Mike." I whimpered, blubbering my words a little.
"I love you too Stef. You're so a great kid. I... I love you like my own."
I hung onto his words forever, wanting him to know how much I really did love him; the same as I did Tre, but it was kind of different for Billie Joe.
"I never want to go." I babbled in between sobs and cries, resting my head into his chest.
"Me neither Stef. Me neither."
I said a tearful goodbye to him as he headed back down the stairs to get back into the car and drive to the studio for the day's work. I watched him disappear down the corridor before I fumbled with the key, ramming it into the lock and opening up the door to my room.
I timidly stepped in, closing the door quickly behind me and pressing my head against it as I leaned onto the door. I sighed deeply, everything happening so fast that I didn't want to move in case it hurt.
I slowly turned around and faced my room; to my surprise everything was spotless. I placed my small carrier of presents in the corner, looking around. There was not a trace of blood, torn up Green Day posters, thrown belongings or a piece of trashed furniture anywhere. I stepped further into the room, it was all so neat. It was like I had just stepped into the room for the first time. I turned around to look at everything, not quite understanding how I got away with trashing the place. I stopped as I came across the desk, a card stood placed in the middle. I reached out to look at it, opening it up to read;
'Dear Stef,
Hope You Get A Lot Better Soon
We're always here to help and we love you lots
Mike and Tre.'
But not Billie Joe. There was no sign of Billie Joe's name. Another lump appeared in my throat suddenly, choking me back again. I studied the front of the card, a picture of flowers and a teddy bear decorating it.
I put the card back onto the desk, standing it up again and looking around to find a clean vase of roses on the bedside table, and a teddy placed in between the two cushions to my bed.
Then it dawned on me that it must have been them who had cleared up my room. That's why I hadn't been banned or fined from the hotel yet for property damage. But something was lurking in the back of my mind.
What had Billie Joe done? Who had brought the roses? Were those from him? Or were all of this down to Mike and Tre?
I sat on the edge of the bed, slowly lowering myself down until I sat into the duvet, staring confusingly around my room. I didn't know what was going on at the moment. Everything was so out of control and I couldn't do anything to stop it or to even change things.
Suddenly, I let out a whimper of defeat, clasping my arms tightly around myself and rolling the sleeves to my hoody over my hands. Tears started to roll down my face once again, as I looked back at the vase of roses, then at the teddy bear, grabbing hold of it and hugging it tightly, because I was so lost at the moment. So hurt and confused, the small bear being the only that I could hug without there being complications. I lay back from my sitting position and curled up into a ball at the top of the bed around the pillows. I sobbed uncontrollably, holding tight to the bear as I continuously stared up at the roses, wondering whether Billie Joe was the one who had brought them for me, or whether it was just the fact that the other two felt sorry for me.
As much as I loved Mike and Tre and were grateful towards them, my heart longed for them to be from Billie Joe.
Because right now I needed to know if Billie Joe still wanted anything to do with me, because now it was ripping me up inside at the thought that I had lost him for good.
Lost him forever, and that was exactly why I had tried to kill myself in the first place.
* * * * * * * *
I lay on my stomach on my bed, with a box of chocolates sitting comfortably beside me. Another present Tre had given to me whilst in hospital, but I had never eaten them because I always felt so sick in there. It would have been a waste of chocolate and Tre's appreciation. My eyes fixed upon MTV, I could feel myself slowly drifting off in my own world, part of me wanting to sleep, the other wanting to stay awake.
I picked another truffle form the box and popped it into my mouth, munching on it lightly as I once again felt my eyelids droop for a second.
The phone in my room started to ring on my desk, it's tone screeching through out my room and alerting me. Not moving at first, I stared at it wondering who it could be, and whether or not I wanted to answer it. As it refused to stop ringing, I pounded my fist into the duvet in order to lift myself off of the bed and reach over to pick it up, resting to a sitting position again on the end of my bed.
"Hello?" I answered quietly, my eyes darting around the room.
"Stef!" Mike cried suddenly.
"Mike! What... what's wrong?" I asked, hearing his anxiety.
"Is Billie Joe with you?"
"What?"
"Just tell me!" He yelled back. "Is Billie Joe with you?"
"No." I answered, not fully understanding him.
"Oh shit... " I heard him mumble to himself, his voice becoming quieter.
"Why? Should he?" I asked, wanting to know what was going on. "Mike?"
There was a noise of shuffling, nobody answering me or bothering to tell me what was going on.
"Mike!" I screamed down the phone at him.
"Yeah?" I replied, his voice shaky but trying to sound casual.
"Where's Billie Joe?"
No answer.
"Mike! Tell me please! Is he hurt? Is he ok? What's wrong?"
"It doesn't matter. Don't worry, I'll erm... sort it out."
"Mike, NO!" I pleaded franticly. "What's happening? Tell me what's going on!"
Again, there was another long pause.
"Mike! Where's Billie Joe?!"
"I... " he stuttered after a few seconds silence again. " I don't know."
"You don't know?! You don't know!" I panicked. "What d'ya' mean, you don't know?!"
"I... I don't know." He whispered again awkwardly.
"You don't know! You don't know?! You must know!"
"I don't know." He just repeated again, not knowing what else to say.
"Mike, what's going on?" I pleaded desperately, starting to fear for the worse and whimper. "What's happening? Where's Billie Joe?"
But I already knew the answer to that one. He didn't know.
How could he not know where the guitarist was? They were meant to be doing a photo shoot. Where else could he be on his own?
"Just turn on your TV Stef." He sort of sobbed, worrying like hell.
"It is on." I told him, turning my head to face the tube that was to my right.
"Put it on a news channel."
I immediately grabbed hold of the remote off of the bed, stretching back to retrieve it and flicking the channel over to CNN. With the phone still clutched to my ear, there was another moment's silence as my eyes glued to the screen, widening.
It was a nightmare. I read the bottom of the screen not being able to believe it. It was one thing after the other. Nothing was ever settled or simple. I gulped back, my grip tightening around the phone in horror as my knuckles turned white. My eyes started to sting, but I felt too shocked to cry. I felt more towards being scared; for both Billie Joe and I.
I read the bottom of the screen, updates continuously appearing after few minutes with more news on the incident.
TERROR ATTACK ON AMERICA IN PHILADELPIA. 4 EXPLOSIONS IN THE CITY. AT LEAST 17 DEAD. 45 SERIOUSLY INJURED.
Oh shit.
My heart beat wildly inside of me, wanting to throw up everywhere. I watched as video footage played on the screen, smoke billowing everywhere in between the buildings and polluting the sky amongst the blackened clouds that were already there. People ran screaming everywhere, emergency services darting all over the place, sirens screeching out along with the desperate cries and curses to God above for what was happening. It had finally happened.
I suddenly remembered the day when I had watched the news back in the old hotel, where there had been a threat to another terrorist attack. The day Billie Joe had found out about how Tre and I had robbed a shop and how we hid when the cops knocked on our door. The day Billie Joe rejected me after I had gotten through to the third audition. I saw myself in my head sitting there watching it, feeling the same anger and terror I had felt back then. As well as the confusion and hurt from Billie Joe.
I heard Mike cough on the other end of the phone, my concentration still focused on the hellish ordeal that was unfolding in front of me on the screen. I hoped and prayed with everything I had. Mike didn't need to tell me. It was already figured out inside my head. And I hated what I saw. Hated it more than I hated Rachael and Jimmy. I felt tears filling up my eyes and glazing them over. The strain of trying not to cry causing them to bloodshot.
"Mi - Mike... ?" I stuttered over my words.
"Yeah?"
I could tell it from his voice that he was stirred and just as worried as I was.
"Where's Billie Joe?" I whimpered, feeling my bottom lip tremble.
I clutched the phone to the side of my face still, never looking away from the tube in case I missed something. Hoping that all of this was just a mistake.
"I don't know." He replied, also sounding like he was about to burst out crying.
"He's in that isn't he?" I said, fearing the worst and not wanting to hide the truth.
"I don't know."
