What Goes Around Is Coming Back And Haunting You, chapter 2
I was so angry and upset at the same time. I didn't know what to do. So I thought about what I did the past few days.
The day before the concert I flew to Los Angeles with Mike and Tre.
We got to Los Angeles and went straight to the hotel and went to sleep for some random weird reason.
We woke up at 7 in the morning and went out to have breakfast.
Then we had band practice for a while and the had lunch.
By 7 at night, the concert had started. One of my guitars was stolen, I smashed one, given two away, pashed a guy, pashed a girl, got pulled into the audience by a bunch of girls, the girls stole my shoes, sang the wrong words to holiday, drank too much after the concert, went out with Mike and Tre most of the night.
Then I got home at 7 in the morning...
"WAIT!" I said to myself. How did I get from Los Angeles to Oakland so quickly? I was drunk so obviously they wouldn't let someone like me on a plane, I don't remember even going on a plane, I don't even have any of my stuff I brought to LA. Am I in Oakland? At my house? I looked at the note. That wasn't Adie's writing. I looked around the room. The structure of the house was exactly like mine, the furniture was exactly like mine. Why hadn't I noticed this before? What's going on?
I called Mike.
"Mike! Where are you?"
"Uh... Hi Billie. I'm at home. In Berkeley."
"Are you sure? Because I don't think I'm at my house."
"What?"
"I think I'm still in LA."
"What the fuck Billie? You were on a plane last night with me and Tre."
"I was? I don't remember anything after the concert except for drinking my guts out."
"Fuck. What's wrong with me?"
"Billie. It's all in your head."
I hung up on him. I looked outside. There was my black BMW. Same registration plate. Nothing had convinced me that I was in Oakland. I went to my room and lay there on my bed staring at the ceiling. I tried to convince myself that I was in Oakland. But nothing worked.
I started thinking about Adie. Did I want her back?
The day before the concert I flew to Los Angeles with Mike and Tre.
We got to Los Angeles and went straight to the hotel and went to sleep for some random weird reason.
We woke up at 7 in the morning and went out to have breakfast.
Then we had band practice for a while and the had lunch.
By 7 at night, the concert had started. One of my guitars was stolen, I smashed one, given two away, pashed a guy, pashed a girl, got pulled into the audience by a bunch of girls, the girls stole my shoes, sang the wrong words to holiday, drank too much after the concert, went out with Mike and Tre most of the night.
Then I got home at 7 in the morning...
"WAIT!" I said to myself. How did I get from Los Angeles to Oakland so quickly? I was drunk so obviously they wouldn't let someone like me on a plane, I don't remember even going on a plane, I don't even have any of my stuff I brought to LA. Am I in Oakland? At my house? I looked at the note. That wasn't Adie's writing. I looked around the room. The structure of the house was exactly like mine, the furniture was exactly like mine. Why hadn't I noticed this before? What's going on?
I called Mike.
"Mike! Where are you?"
"Uh... Hi Billie. I'm at home. In Berkeley."
"Are you sure? Because I don't think I'm at my house."
"What?"
"I think I'm still in LA."
"What the fuck Billie? You were on a plane last night with me and Tre."
"I was? I don't remember anything after the concert except for drinking my guts out."
"Fuck. What's wrong with me?"
"Billie. It's all in your head."
I hung up on him. I looked outside. There was my black BMW. Same registration plate. Nothing had convinced me that I was in Oakland. I went to my room and lay there on my bed staring at the ceiling. I tried to convince myself that I was in Oakland. But nothing worked.
I started thinking about Adie. Did I want her back?
