Unfolding the Truth Behind the Lies, chapter 1
He studied himself in the only available mirror to him since he had arrived here. He was thinner, paler, and looked sickly. He hasn't eaten in days, slowly letting starvation take over his body. Did it even matter to him if he lived? No, it didn't matter. Nothing was going to change what he had done... he had ruined his friends, family, and most of all, his reputation. Everything to him seemed so complex now when in the end, it simply wasn't at all. What he had done was his fault, and his fault only. Nothing could turn it around and erase it all.
Not even him.
Slowly he made his way back to his cell and sat down on the bed. The only thing he was allowed to bring with him was anything that meant the most to him... and no, he couldn't bring his bass with him. That was what had killed him the most... not being able to play his music. But, what did it matter anyway? His music days were now sadly over.
Looking at the only bag he had with him, he took out the only pen and paper he had. He decided to write a letter to the one person who he hurt the most in this all. He lost his best friend, god knows even if he had lived. Was forgiveness a bit too much to ask for? He thought not.
Perplexed, he began writing:
To my one and only best friend:
So, it has been how long since I have arrived here in this cold jail cell? A month, right? Well, let me say this: I am sorry. I am sorry for the pain that I have caused us all. There was nothing that I could have done to stop myself from what I have done, and yes, you will be cursing, breaking and throwing things after you read this. Knowing you, you might even have a panic attack. I had those too, remember? But, everyone ran to you right away... it was always 'aww, poor little Billie Joe is depressed'. But nobody cared about my feelings. In the end, it was always you. Sometimes I wondered if you did what you did for attention. Did you ever say thank you? All the nights you were sleepless from nightmares, up because of intoxication, up because you were sick, and I was there, but you never repaid me, did you?
Now you are possibly wondering, did he only do this because he wanted something back in return? Part of me did, and part of me didn't. I wanted to know what it had felt like to receive some recognition for what I had done. You always received it all... was it because you were a songwriter? We helped with those melodies and harmonies... it wasn't all just you. You can be so thick, but you know what? I stayed with you... I was your friend. Even after you married Adrienne, I was still there.
Why bring Adrienne into this you ask? Well, I loved you. No, not the "you are my friend" type love, it was real, deep and passionate love. But, I never had the guts to tell you or anybody that I was gay. Would you understand? Would that change the feelings that you had for me? Most likely not. I am envious of you Billie Joe Armstrong... oh, how sweet my vengeance feels upon you. But, it doesn't feel so sweet anymore, because now I am sitting here, thinking of different ways that I can end it all. Did you ever feel like you needed revenge on somebody? Yes, I'm sure you have... you were the one who wrote The Grouch. "The world owes me so fuck you" was the famous line from that song. You felt like you lost innocence... "Summer has come and past the innocent can never last". I lost the same fucking innocence. Everyone always felt sorry for you just because you lost your father, then you got depressed and went to drugs. I watched you do cocaine; I watched it all. Did you ever wonder why I never tried to help you? I thought that letting you do away with yourself was the best thing, but I was wrong.
I was wrong about a lot of things though Billie, oh was I wrong. Knowing the type of person you are, you apparently won't believe me.
I want you to know, that I was depressed, but it was more then you will ever know, or even care to know about. You have never injured anyone but yourself, Billie Joe Armstrong. Yes, you hurt your family, your friends, and your children have to live with that. But physically, was anyone ever hurt? No, you wouldn't even hurt a fucking fly. You always have admitted to being vulnerable, and you sometimes felt small, for you were only five foot six. But deep down, you had a caring heart, and everyone loved being around you. And, I took that away with what I have done to you. Maybe I just have to come and understand that you will never forgive me, and this time you shouldn't have to. But, I want you to know this one thing:
For once I am unfolding the truth behind the lies.
PRESENT DAY
Billie Joe sat down on his couch gripping the letter tightly in his hands. Did he know what to do or say? No, he didn't. He didn't even understand why Mike decided to write a fucking letter to him. The only thing Mike obviously wanted was someone to listen to him, and Billie Joe knew that was far from impossible. He was hurting too much, physically and emotionally.
But, why physically? Mike was right about one thing he thought to himself... he injured himself. Only a week ago he started the cocaine again. But, why? Was it to ease the tension between Adrienne and he? Did he want to feel something, just like ten years ago when he was having trouble with himself? Or, was he just trying to convenience himself that it wasn't his fault?
In any case or senaro, it was all three. There was tension between him and his wife, he wanted to feel something to take away the hurt, and he was trying to tell himself that none of this was his fault. Days felt like years now, passing by. He would just want to curl up and die, and for one reason:
He didn't understand how Mike could do such a horrible thing. As of now, Green Day was finished. The trust was gone, and the bass played was in jail. Billie Joe, for the first time in his seventeen year career and all twenty-three years of playing, didn't feel like performing or playing anymore. Songs were written everyday of the week, but he never picked up the guitar to play.
"Mike, why goddamnit? You really felt like you couldn't trust us that much that you had to go and do something like this? Throw innocent people into your problems? I never even did that, but I guess that is one of the now many differences between you and me. Now I know who really has the rage and love."
He felt so numb that he didn't feel the river of tears fall from his eyes for the first time since all of this has happened. He went without sleeping for weeks, eating nothing, but he found it in his place to do drugs. Figures, that was one thing he had to do, and that was why he was crying also. He didn't want to hurt anybody, but he knew that he was, just like the way Mike was hurting him right now.
Adrienne was watching him from the doorway to the kitchen the whole time. She watched him read, heard him mutter to himself. She wanted so much just to go and hug him, but she wasn't so sure.
But, that was her husband afterall.
She walked slowly into the living room and sat down beside him, just staring at him for a second. Never, in their whole eleven years of marriage, has Adrienne ever saw Billie Joe like this.
He looked up at her for a split second, and she took him into her arms, his tears falling onto her chest like a repenting rain. She stroked his jet-black hair, and he winced.
"Ad-Adie... w-why?"
She sighed. "Billie... nobody knows why. The only person who knows why is Mike himself. We are going to court next month Billie... he will have to tell everything in court, no lies. You have to go up to the stand also.
"He pointed a g-gun at m-me. Adie, he was g-going... "
He began sobbing harder and she hugged him tighter. "Ssh, baby you're still here. Mike is mentally impaired Billie, you have to understand that. I know he has scared you for life now, and you have to live with that memory, but it will get better. Believe that much Billie."
"What is there left to believe nowadays anyway."
Adrienne thought for a second, and came to the conclusion that he was right. They didn't and couldn't believe anything. What if Mike did something like this again? It's a fact now; Billie Joe has to live with the fear of being killed now, Tre doesn't know who to believe, and she was stuck, just comforting everybody.
What else could she do, anyway?
Not even him.
Slowly he made his way back to his cell and sat down on the bed. The only thing he was allowed to bring with him was anything that meant the most to him... and no, he couldn't bring his bass with him. That was what had killed him the most... not being able to play his music. But, what did it matter anyway? His music days were now sadly over.
Looking at the only bag he had with him, he took out the only pen and paper he had. He decided to write a letter to the one person who he hurt the most in this all. He lost his best friend, god knows even if he had lived. Was forgiveness a bit too much to ask for? He thought not.
Perplexed, he began writing:
To my one and only best friend:
So, it has been how long since I have arrived here in this cold jail cell? A month, right? Well, let me say this: I am sorry. I am sorry for the pain that I have caused us all. There was nothing that I could have done to stop myself from what I have done, and yes, you will be cursing, breaking and throwing things after you read this. Knowing you, you might even have a panic attack. I had those too, remember? But, everyone ran to you right away... it was always 'aww, poor little Billie Joe is depressed'. But nobody cared about my feelings. In the end, it was always you. Sometimes I wondered if you did what you did for attention. Did you ever say thank you? All the nights you were sleepless from nightmares, up because of intoxication, up because you were sick, and I was there, but you never repaid me, did you?
Now you are possibly wondering, did he only do this because he wanted something back in return? Part of me did, and part of me didn't. I wanted to know what it had felt like to receive some recognition for what I had done. You always received it all... was it because you were a songwriter? We helped with those melodies and harmonies... it wasn't all just you. You can be so thick, but you know what? I stayed with you... I was your friend. Even after you married Adrienne, I was still there.
Why bring Adrienne into this you ask? Well, I loved you. No, not the "you are my friend" type love, it was real, deep and passionate love. But, I never had the guts to tell you or anybody that I was gay. Would you understand? Would that change the feelings that you had for me? Most likely not. I am envious of you Billie Joe Armstrong... oh, how sweet my vengeance feels upon you. But, it doesn't feel so sweet anymore, because now I am sitting here, thinking of different ways that I can end it all. Did you ever feel like you needed revenge on somebody? Yes, I'm sure you have... you were the one who wrote The Grouch. "The world owes me so fuck you" was the famous line from that song. You felt like you lost innocence... "Summer has come and past the innocent can never last". I lost the same fucking innocence. Everyone always felt sorry for you just because you lost your father, then you got depressed and went to drugs. I watched you do cocaine; I watched it all. Did you ever wonder why I never tried to help you? I thought that letting you do away with yourself was the best thing, but I was wrong.
I was wrong about a lot of things though Billie, oh was I wrong. Knowing the type of person you are, you apparently won't believe me.
I want you to know, that I was depressed, but it was more then you will ever know, or even care to know about. You have never injured anyone but yourself, Billie Joe Armstrong. Yes, you hurt your family, your friends, and your children have to live with that. But physically, was anyone ever hurt? No, you wouldn't even hurt a fucking fly. You always have admitted to being vulnerable, and you sometimes felt small, for you were only five foot six. But deep down, you had a caring heart, and everyone loved being around you. And, I took that away with what I have done to you. Maybe I just have to come and understand that you will never forgive me, and this time you shouldn't have to. But, I want you to know this one thing:
For once I am unfolding the truth behind the lies.
PRESENT DAY
Billie Joe sat down on his couch gripping the letter tightly in his hands. Did he know what to do or say? No, he didn't. He didn't even understand why Mike decided to write a fucking letter to him. The only thing Mike obviously wanted was someone to listen to him, and Billie Joe knew that was far from impossible. He was hurting too much, physically and emotionally.
But, why physically? Mike was right about one thing he thought to himself... he injured himself. Only a week ago he started the cocaine again. But, why? Was it to ease the tension between Adrienne and he? Did he want to feel something, just like ten years ago when he was having trouble with himself? Or, was he just trying to convenience himself that it wasn't his fault?
In any case or senaro, it was all three. There was tension between him and his wife, he wanted to feel something to take away the hurt, and he was trying to tell himself that none of this was his fault. Days felt like years now, passing by. He would just want to curl up and die, and for one reason:
He didn't understand how Mike could do such a horrible thing. As of now, Green Day was finished. The trust was gone, and the bass played was in jail. Billie Joe, for the first time in his seventeen year career and all twenty-three years of playing, didn't feel like performing or playing anymore. Songs were written everyday of the week, but he never picked up the guitar to play.
"Mike, why goddamnit? You really felt like you couldn't trust us that much that you had to go and do something like this? Throw innocent people into your problems? I never even did that, but I guess that is one of the now many differences between you and me. Now I know who really has the rage and love."
He felt so numb that he didn't feel the river of tears fall from his eyes for the first time since all of this has happened. He went without sleeping for weeks, eating nothing, but he found it in his place to do drugs. Figures, that was one thing he had to do, and that was why he was crying also. He didn't want to hurt anybody, but he knew that he was, just like the way Mike was hurting him right now.
Adrienne was watching him from the doorway to the kitchen the whole time. She watched him read, heard him mutter to himself. She wanted so much just to go and hug him, but she wasn't so sure.
But, that was her husband afterall.
She walked slowly into the living room and sat down beside him, just staring at him for a second. Never, in their whole eleven years of marriage, has Adrienne ever saw Billie Joe like this.
He looked up at her for a split second, and she took him into her arms, his tears falling onto her chest like a repenting rain. She stroked his jet-black hair, and he winced.
"Ad-Adie... w-why?"
She sighed. "Billie... nobody knows why. The only person who knows why is Mike himself. We are going to court next month Billie... he will have to tell everything in court, no lies. You have to go up to the stand also.
"He pointed a g-gun at m-me. Adie, he was g-going... "
He began sobbing harder and she hugged him tighter. "Ssh, baby you're still here. Mike is mentally impaired Billie, you have to understand that. I know he has scared you for life now, and you have to live with that memory, but it will get better. Believe that much Billie."
"What is there left to believe nowadays anyway."
Adrienne thought for a second, and came to the conclusion that he was right. They didn't and couldn't believe anything. What if Mike did something like this again? It's a fact now; Billie Joe has to live with the fear of being killed now, Tre doesn't know who to believe, and she was stuck, just comforting everybody.
What else could she do, anyway?
