A Note Never Came Easy, chapter 1
"Billie Joe... listen to me," I murmured, finding it painful talking. "I'm gonna have... "
And then I let out a sob as a strange sensation overcome me, a feeling I cannot describe.
"Billie, tell mum I'm sorry." I cried out suddenly, looking up at the sky for a moment as if praying.
He nodded, his lip trembling and his nostrils flaring as he cried. It was like he knew I was going to die, but he just didn't want to believe it.
"And remember I'll always be with you yeah? I always love you no matter what and I'm just sorry I can't spend the rest of my life with you."
"Stef, please... " he sobbed, as if telling me to stop as he dipped his head.
"I love you with all my heart and I would have loved to have spent the rest my life with you."
He quivered as he cupped the side of my face with his hand and lent the side of my head onto it.
"I would of loved to have had our family... "
And then my eyes seemed to loll back as they closed and I rested my head against his hand - I suddenly lost my pulse.
"Stef... ?" He asked wearily, suddenly panicking, as his eyes grew wide with fear. "Stef!" He screamed hoarsely when I didn't respond.
Tapping the side of my face lightly with his hand I just moved a little, only for my head to roll to the side and lean against his chest.
"Don't do this to me!" He yelled, becoming hysterical and shaking me. "Stef! Stef!"
But I wouldn't stir. There was no one left inside my body.
Billie Joe opened his eyes suddenly to look around the surroundings in his and Adrienne's room, darkened and still.
His bottom lip trembled as he just stared up at the ceiling.
He hated closing his eyes now. Even when he tried to block everything away, he was still haunted by the ghost of Stef.
Every time he closed his eyes he saw her, lying there in his arms dying. The memory of it wouldn't go away, no matter what he did, and it killed him.
She was always there, on his mind, and he couldn't help but feel so sad and agonised.
She was gone and he was never going to see her again. And it tore at him so much at the fact that she had been taken away from him so suddenly. The way she had died was so tragic that it was hard for him to believe.
So ironic, that they had planned everything out, and then she had been killed.
His mind was just so bulging with thoughts and emotions that he couldn't control himself.
Sitting up slowly and carefully draping back the duvet on his behalf, quietly not to wake Adrienne, he got up from the bed and stepped over to the bedroom window.
Leaning against the perch of it, he sighed, staring out into the distance.
Nothing outside stirred, the street lamps glowing like candles in the darkness, blurry through the bedroom blind to his eyes.
Biting his bottom lip he sighed, glancing down at his feet as he thought about his location.
Where he was and whom he was sharing a bed with to start off with.
It's not supposed to be like this. I should be with her. I should be with Stef, starting my life with her. I'm not planned to be here, in my house. I'm supposed to be out there in a hotel somewhere, with Stef. Not here. I was going to leave.
Just... why?
Why did it turn out like this?
Why did he have to take her away from me? What did I ever fucking do to God for him to do that? To me?
Drawing his hand down one side of his face he sighed shakily, sniffing before closing his eyes once again - taking note of the stillness that surrounded him and how it seemed eerie almost.
*
"Billie Joe?" I perked up, turning to face him as he lay next to me.
"Hmmm?"
"Do you believe in an after life?"
"Hmmm?" He grumbled again, turning on his side to face me fully.
"Do you believe in an after life?" I repeated.
He licked his bottom lip, looking up at the ceiling for a few moments as he thought.
"I guess so. I don't think we completely bugger off from the face of this earth."
"So, you believe in ghosts then?"
He smirked. "Ghosts?"
"Yeah." I nodded before explaining myself. "Ok, so say I died."
He quirked an eyebrow.
"That's nice." He commented. "If you did I would cry because I would have no one to have naked showers with."
I swatted him playfully. "I'm being serious!"
He smiled. "Ok, serious face on now."
"Ok, so say I died... "
"... In this bed because I had fucked you so hard." He added laughing.
"Billie!" I cried, hitting him again and trying not to laugh myself. "Will you stop it? I'm trying to talk to you here!"
I then giggled as I continued to hit him, climbing on top of him and rolling on to his chest. He laughed as I swatted him across the face again; the bristles on his face grazing my skin.
"Alright! Alright!" He cried, putting his hands up in the air. "I'm listening. So carry on. Say if you died... " He started off for me again.
"Yeah. Would you believe in me still being say, a spirit or something?"
He quirked an eyebrow again. "Yeah. I guess so. I wouldn't believe that you had completely gone."
"Right. So there you go."
"There you go... what?" He asked confusingly, wondering what I was trying to get at.
"I would still be with you."
"No you wouldn't because you'd be dead." He said bluntly, confused still.
"No!" I cried sighing, trying to get him to understand. "I would always be with you. My spirit would still be with you. I'll be watching over you."
"Yeah. Right."
"Would you do the same for me?" I asked as I rolled off of him as he sat up next to me.
"Huh?"
"Would you watch over me if you died too?"
"Of course I would." He smiled.
"Because I would watch over you."
He looked at me for a moment, studying my profile carefully as he thought about how much I thought this through - causing him to smile to himself.
Wrapping his arm around me he drew me close to him, hugging me close to his body.
"You think too much sweets, d'ya know that?" He said, pressing his cheek against mine.
I sighed. "I'm sorry."
"No, thinking's good. But let's just not think about you dieing right now ok? Because you're alive and well, and I don't plan on you dieing for the next couple of decades yet. You're here, with me, right now and we're both alive. No ghosts, no spirits. You're here in the flesh and I love you. And we'll leave all this spirit shit until it actually happens m'kay? Because right now, I'm gonna make you go to heaven and back."
He grinned, turning to plant a kiss on my cheek before trailing down and nipping on my neck.
I smiled in comfort as he kissed me again, this time climbing on top of me and kissing me fully.
He wrapped his arms around my neck and smiled against my lips as he sat in my lap.
Cupping my face in his hands he looked into my eyes.
"And just to tell you, don't you go planning on dieing ok?" He added, smiling.
I grinned. "Ok, I won't."
"Good." He said climbing off of me and out of the bed in just his boxers, turning on the kettle in the hotel room in the process. "Because it's not good for you. Coffee?"
"Yeah sure."
He turned on the kettle before turning back to face me again with one hand on his hip.
"And don't think I'm planning on kicking the bucket either." He added.
"I don't." I smiled, laughing to myself how much he was rambling on about the whole thing.
He shrugged his shoulders. "Well, that's a good thing too.
"But don't you go thinking that this is an opportunity to not love me because we have a while yet before we go pushing up the daises." I added, my turn to rant at him.
He raised his eyebrows at me as the kettle finished boiling.
"Now why would I think that?"
I shrugged my shoulders.
"I've told you," he started, waving a spoon at me as he turned to put the coffee granules in two mugs. "You think too much."
I found it hysterically funny the way he waving a spoon and protesting at me in just his boxers first thing in the morning looking like a sex deprived Munchkin.
"You think too much and sometimes it makes you think negative things."
"Billie, you're not my parent." I laughed.
He poured the boiling water into the separate mugs. "I know, but I'm just saying. I don't want you going back to how you used to be before."
"Before... ?" I queried.
"Just... before. When you always thought you were ugly and that no body would like you and stuff like that. You're a more positive person now Stef."
"And that's all thanks to you." I smiled.
He turned around, bringing my mug over to me before going back for his. "No, you did that yourself because you're strong."
"I wouldn't be strong if you hadn't been here to support me."
He walked back over to the bed, bringing his coffee with him - careful not to spill it.
"Well, I wanted to be here for you." He told me, perching on the end of the bed and taking a sip of his drink.
I watched him, a smile appearing across my face.
"Thanks."
He looked up at me from my mug. "What for?"
"Being here for me."
He grinned before raising an eyebrow again at me. "What did I tell you about [i]thinking?"
I laughed. "Not to do it as much."
He nodded his head, smiling too. "See. I do try and make some sense."
I laughed as I taped the end of his nose playfully, one hand curled around my mug still.
"You're so cute."
He grinned sheepishly. "Like I said, I try."
"Who would have thought that I would of ended up being with THE Billie Joe Armstrong and sharing his bed with him?"
He pursed his lip before melting into a hot warm smile. "And who would have thought that I would be with THE Stef Ricketts from England who plays guitar and makes me wanna be with her more?"
"I'm nothing special." I told him.
He leaned forward and looked at me from the tops of his eyes, smirking. "Negative thoughts again."
I grinned once more. "Ok I'll stop! I can't help it, it's in my nature!"
"Well don't be o' le natural then." He told me, sipping on his coffee.
"Ok, I'll try not to be."
"Now, end of conversation." He announced, rubbing my arm soothingly. "No more negative crap. It's making me feel... negative." [/i]
*
He stood, staring out forever in the distance. He didn't no how long he had been standing there for thinking about that day, but it wasn't until someone else woke up that snapped him from his thoughts.
"What are you doing up?" Adrienne asked sleepily, blinking as she looked up a little to see her husband standing at the window.
He raised an eyebrow at her voice, turning around to face her briefly before looking back out into the distance. He sighed.
"I... couldn't sleep."
"How long have you been standing there for?" She asked, this time sitting up and resting against the headrest to the bed, pulling the duvet up over her.
"Don't know. A while. Couple of minutes maybe."
She put her hand over her mouth to cover up her yawn, before blinking again to look fully at Billie - who still had his back to her.
There was a pause between them.
"Are you going to come back to bed?" She asked, cocking her head to one side.
Unknown to her, Billie Joe closed his eyes to try and hide away.
I can't. I can't stop thinking about Stef. I can't go back to sleep.
There was another pause as he furrowed his brow.
"Maybe later." He responded with a sigh, placing his hand back on the windowsill.
This time it was Adrienne's turn to sigh and bite her lip before turning back to him.
"What's up with you Billie Joe?"
He didn't change his posture from against the windowsill.
"I just need some time to think." He told her simply, his eye caught by a car passing by.
"Think? Think about what?!"
"Just things that are on my mind, ok?" He snapped, turning to face his wife.
"Such as?"
"Why does it bother you so much?"
"Billie, I'm your wife. I thought we were supposed to tell each other things, you know, like married couples do?"
"There's nothing to tell you."
She quirked an eyebrow and frowned at him.
"What's the matter with you? You've been acting weird ever since you came back from San Francisco."
"Nothing's the matter with me Addi. Will you just get off my back ok?! Why do you think something's up with me?"
"By the way you're behaving. Like this, right now. Like you're hiding something from me."
"I've got nothing to hide." He sniped. "What have I got to hide Addi, hmmm? Tell me, what have I got to hide?"
She bit her lip as she thought, watching her husband.
"I don't know exactly. But something's up with you Billie Joe and your keeping it from me."
"Why would you think I'm keeping it from you?" he grumbled before raising his voice again. "Is that the sort of person that you see me as?"
"No, I d - "
"Because that's just fucking great."
"I'm not saying that Billie! Why are you twisting this?"
"I'm not the one who has suddenly jumped to 20 questions."
"And I'm not the one who's been in a funk for the past couple of weeks."
Billie Joe turned to look out of the window again, looking into the sky for an answer.
One he was so desperate for.
Should he tell her now? Or should he leave it and hope he would be able to carry on and save his marriage?
He furrowed his brow.
"I'm allowed to be in a funk." He grumbled, the answer to why he was only known to himself.
Adrienne sighed sadly, as well as in frustration. "I just don't know what to do anymore Billie Joe. I've tried talking to you and all you do is shut me out. You've been so distant these past few weeks, I can barely string a sentence from out of you."
He hunched over, still staring out into the night, listening to his wife.
Just stop it. I have a perfect reason to be like this so leave me, please. She's gone, and she's never coming back. What am I supposed to do? Stef's dead. That's why I'm in a funk Addi, that's fucking why.
"It's like you're somewhere else. Your minds occupied else where and it's like talking to a brick wall." She added, running her hand through her dread-locked hair that was tied up in a messy ponytail.
Billie Joe didn't answer back. He just let her ramble at him, and it made him clench his teeth closely together.
"I seriously don't know what to do anymore Billie. And what's with not talking to Tre at the moment? Did you two have another fight?"
Billie Joe's eyes narrowed at the mention of the Green Day drummer.
O no Adrienne. It was far from an argument. He took away one of the things that I loved the most. He fucking took her away and now I can never see her again because of him. That's why I'm not talking to him. That's fucking why.
"Because you two need to stop this. It's like, the past year you've constantly been arguing and fighting. I don't know what it's about but, don't you think you could at least try and sort things out?" She tried to suggest when he didn't reply. "For the sake of your friendship? And the band?"
How can I be friends with him when it was him who caused Stef to die? If he hadn't been standing there like a complete ass in the first place then there would have been no need for her to run and save him. Because she was so caring, and she couldn't watch him get hurt. Because that's the sort of person she is. She always thought about others, and she killed herself for... for that... bastard. And now she's fucking gone and there's nothing ... I can... do...
Then without warning, he let out a sniffle and the next thing he knew he could feel a tear roll down his cheek. Quickly wiping it away with his hand, he let out another sniffle as he still continued to keep his back to his wife.
His bottom lip trembling he sighed shakily, blinking to make the tears go away.
"Billie, what's the matter with you?" Adrienne asked concerned, frowning. "I'm so worried about you."
He quickly looked over his shoulder to take a glimpse of her sitting in their bed and looking up at him with pleading eyes.
"Please tell me what's wrong." She begged.
He kept silent, hesitating whether to tell her or not. And after a few minutes of silence, she suddenly let out a frustrated groan.
"I just don't understand." She huffed. "Really I don't. I try and help you and you fucking ignore me."
He bit his lip in torment as he took her sudden dose of verbal abuse.
"Heaven forbid what I'm going through here." She added, softening up the pillows quite harshly.
That did it for Billie Joe. He suddenly whipped around on his heels and narrowed his eyes, his fists clenched together as he tried to control himself.
"What you're going through?" He growled.
"Yes." She cried back at him. "What I'm going through. Worrying about you and trying to keep the kids happy too by the way you're behaving, because at the moment you don't seem to even acknowledge that they're here at the moment either."
"That's a lie." He bit. "You know I try with our kids as best as I can."
"I know you do, but at the moment, it just feels as if you're neglecting them. Fine, I can handle you not talking to me, but taking it out on the kids? Their too young to be victims of this."
"Of what?!" He yelled suddenly.
She looked at him hard.
"Of what Addi? Of fucking what?"
"Keep your voice down! The kids are asleep." She scowled at him.
"Just answer me." He growled back in a manipulative tone.
She stared at him as he edged his face nearer, his lip curling a little at the side and partly wanting her to shout at him, just so he could shout back and let go of some of the negative energy that he had trapped inside of him.
"Of you!" She suddenly barked. "Of the way you're being and acting. They're too young to have to suffer from your little mood swings and us arguing! Because I'm so sick of this Billie Joe! It breaks my heart every time they ask what's the matter with you, because even I don't know and it just shows how much you're having an effect on them. And they don't deserve it."
Billie could feel the tears start to appear in the corners of his eyes again, and then as he stared into the eyes of his wife of 11 years, almost 12, he stood back and bit his lip. He turned on his heels again and slipped on a pair of jeans, staggering about the room frustrated.
"What are you doing?" Adrienne asked him, watching him loose balance for a few moments before sliding the jeans up and zipping them closed.
Doing up his belt buckle, he refused to face her. "I'm going."
"Where?" She asked confusedly, and somewhat scared of what he might do.
"Just... out. Away."
Leaving on the T-Shirt he had been wearing in bed, he slipped on his battered Chucks that sat in the corner of the room before heading out of the bedroom.
She watched him before crying back to him just as he reached the door.
"Don't think of trying to run away from this Billie! You can't hide forever."
He turned around, his fist clenched tightly around the door handle.
"No, but runaway is the only thing I can seem to do at the moment Addi." He sniped at her, before leaving out through the door and closing it behind him again.
Sauntering down the steps, he picked up his keys and wallet from off of the island table that sat in their living room, before pocketing his cell into his jeans.
Checking the time quickly, he then picked his jacket from off of the back of one of the kitchen chairs and slipped it over his frame, not bothering to do it up as he dangled his keys between his index finger and thumb.
Quietly, he opened the front door, locking it again behind him for the safety of the rest of his family that were still inside. He wasn't that much of an ass to leave the door open to them.
Jumping in his Ford Fairlane, he slipped his keys into the ignition and drove out of the drive, the sky still dark as the street lamps lit it to a dim.
His fists clamped around the steering wheel tightly, he drove into the night for what seemed like an eternity.
He didn't even acknowledge that he was in the city of San Francisco until he was crossing the Golden Bridge.
Looking up out of the window for a brief moment, he took in the city's skyline, and how it had changed drastically over the last few weeks.
Driving into a parking lot, he parked up his vehicle and jumped out, striding up the welcoming steps and slipping through the door into the entrance and heading towards the reception desk.
"Erm, can I have a room please?" He asked shakily, trying to swallow back his tears still.
As the receptionist typed into her computer to check for vacancies, he then leaned across the desk and added to the request as he was searching through his wallet.
"It has to be room 345." He added.
The receptionist looked up at him, quirking an eyebrow.
"I'm sorry sir, but we can't just give you that room."
"That room, please." He asked sternly.
"Are you demanding me?" She asked angrily.
"Yes I am."
She looked at him before sighing deeply and looking at the computer again before turning back to him.
"I'm sorry, the rooms booked for a couple that are arriving tomorrow."
"I'll be out by the morning." He told her coldly.
She eyed him again before rolling her eyes and hastily giving him the room.
"That's $275 then, sir."
Wadding out the cash, he handed it to her before passing her a separate $20.
"Here, that's for the couple tomorrow." He told her as she confusingly took it from him. "Tell them, if they have any problems to come and see me personally."
Taking the key to the room from her across the desk, he walked around the corner and up the stairs until he reached the 4th floor and crept down the hallway. When he reached the room, he stood outside, staring at the key in his hand before taking a deep breath and opening up the door.
Stepping into the darkness, he quietly shut the door behind him and walked to the main part of the room, where he just seemed to stare around it with sadness.
The last time he had been here was when he had come back from the terrorist attack, and Stef had just died.
This was his and Stef's room. This was where they had talked, kissed, made love, comforted each other, and even planned their future together.
Putting his wallet and keys down onto the desk as well as taking his cell out of his pocket and putting it with them, he walked over to the side of the bed without even turning the light on.
Slipping off his shoes and jacket, which he put onto the floor, he pulled back the duvet and slipped under the sheets of the bed.
Burying himself down deep into the bed he curled himself up into a ball and wrapped the sheets around his body tightly for some kind of comfort.
And the fact that he was alone in the bed haunted him. There was no Stef there lying next to him like it had always been, and he couldn't take it in.
It killed him slowly, and he hated it.
And then he let out a sob that rang out through the room, before he started to cry continuously.
Crying quietly to himself, his sniffles being the only thing that stirred inside the darkened room as he griped hold of the pillow next to him in agony, before slowly crying himself to sleep.
I'm just the pieces of the man I used to be,
Too many bitter tears are raining down on me.
I'm far away from home,
And I've been facing this alone for much too long.
I've feel like no one ever told the truth to me,
About growing up and what a struggle it could be.
In my tangled state of my mind,
I've been looking back to find where I went wrong.
Too much love will kill you,
If you can't make up your mind.
Torn between the lover,
And the love you leave behind.
You're heading for disaster,
Cos' you never read the signs.
Too much love will kill you
Everytime.
And then I let out a sob as a strange sensation overcome me, a feeling I cannot describe.
"Billie, tell mum I'm sorry." I cried out suddenly, looking up at the sky for a moment as if praying.
He nodded, his lip trembling and his nostrils flaring as he cried. It was like he knew I was going to die, but he just didn't want to believe it.
"And remember I'll always be with you yeah? I always love you no matter what and I'm just sorry I can't spend the rest of my life with you."
"Stef, please... " he sobbed, as if telling me to stop as he dipped his head.
"I love you with all my heart and I would have loved to have spent the rest my life with you."
He quivered as he cupped the side of my face with his hand and lent the side of my head onto it.
"I would of loved to have had our family... "
And then my eyes seemed to loll back as they closed and I rested my head against his hand - I suddenly lost my pulse.
"Stef... ?" He asked wearily, suddenly panicking, as his eyes grew wide with fear. "Stef!" He screamed hoarsely when I didn't respond.
Tapping the side of my face lightly with his hand I just moved a little, only for my head to roll to the side and lean against his chest.
"Don't do this to me!" He yelled, becoming hysterical and shaking me. "Stef! Stef!"
But I wouldn't stir. There was no one left inside my body.
Billie Joe opened his eyes suddenly to look around the surroundings in his and Adrienne's room, darkened and still.
His bottom lip trembled as he just stared up at the ceiling.
He hated closing his eyes now. Even when he tried to block everything away, he was still haunted by the ghost of Stef.
Every time he closed his eyes he saw her, lying there in his arms dying. The memory of it wouldn't go away, no matter what he did, and it killed him.
She was always there, on his mind, and he couldn't help but feel so sad and agonised.
She was gone and he was never going to see her again. And it tore at him so much at the fact that she had been taken away from him so suddenly. The way she had died was so tragic that it was hard for him to believe.
So ironic, that they had planned everything out, and then she had been killed.
His mind was just so bulging with thoughts and emotions that he couldn't control himself.
Sitting up slowly and carefully draping back the duvet on his behalf, quietly not to wake Adrienne, he got up from the bed and stepped over to the bedroom window.
Leaning against the perch of it, he sighed, staring out into the distance.
Nothing outside stirred, the street lamps glowing like candles in the darkness, blurry through the bedroom blind to his eyes.
Biting his bottom lip he sighed, glancing down at his feet as he thought about his location.
Where he was and whom he was sharing a bed with to start off with.
It's not supposed to be like this. I should be with her. I should be with Stef, starting my life with her. I'm not planned to be here, in my house. I'm supposed to be out there in a hotel somewhere, with Stef. Not here. I was going to leave.
Just... why?
Why did it turn out like this?
Why did he have to take her away from me? What did I ever fucking do to God for him to do that? To me?
Drawing his hand down one side of his face he sighed shakily, sniffing before closing his eyes once again - taking note of the stillness that surrounded him and how it seemed eerie almost.
*
"Billie Joe?" I perked up, turning to face him as he lay next to me.
"Hmmm?"
"Do you believe in an after life?"
"Hmmm?" He grumbled again, turning on his side to face me fully.
"Do you believe in an after life?" I repeated.
He licked his bottom lip, looking up at the ceiling for a few moments as he thought.
"I guess so. I don't think we completely bugger off from the face of this earth."
"So, you believe in ghosts then?"
He smirked. "Ghosts?"
"Yeah." I nodded before explaining myself. "Ok, so say I died."
He quirked an eyebrow.
"That's nice." He commented. "If you did I would cry because I would have no one to have naked showers with."
I swatted him playfully. "I'm being serious!"
He smiled. "Ok, serious face on now."
"Ok, so say I died... "
"... In this bed because I had fucked you so hard." He added laughing.
"Billie!" I cried, hitting him again and trying not to laugh myself. "Will you stop it? I'm trying to talk to you here!"
I then giggled as I continued to hit him, climbing on top of him and rolling on to his chest. He laughed as I swatted him across the face again; the bristles on his face grazing my skin.
"Alright! Alright!" He cried, putting his hands up in the air. "I'm listening. So carry on. Say if you died... " He started off for me again.
"Yeah. Would you believe in me still being say, a spirit or something?"
He quirked an eyebrow again. "Yeah. I guess so. I wouldn't believe that you had completely gone."
"Right. So there you go."
"There you go... what?" He asked confusingly, wondering what I was trying to get at.
"I would still be with you."
"No you wouldn't because you'd be dead." He said bluntly, confused still.
"No!" I cried sighing, trying to get him to understand. "I would always be with you. My spirit would still be with you. I'll be watching over you."
"Yeah. Right."
"Would you do the same for me?" I asked as I rolled off of him as he sat up next to me.
"Huh?"
"Would you watch over me if you died too?"
"Of course I would." He smiled.
"Because I would watch over you."
He looked at me for a moment, studying my profile carefully as he thought about how much I thought this through - causing him to smile to himself.
Wrapping his arm around me he drew me close to him, hugging me close to his body.
"You think too much sweets, d'ya know that?" He said, pressing his cheek against mine.
I sighed. "I'm sorry."
"No, thinking's good. But let's just not think about you dieing right now ok? Because you're alive and well, and I don't plan on you dieing for the next couple of decades yet. You're here, with me, right now and we're both alive. No ghosts, no spirits. You're here in the flesh and I love you. And we'll leave all this spirit shit until it actually happens m'kay? Because right now, I'm gonna make you go to heaven and back."
He grinned, turning to plant a kiss on my cheek before trailing down and nipping on my neck.
I smiled in comfort as he kissed me again, this time climbing on top of me and kissing me fully.
He wrapped his arms around my neck and smiled against my lips as he sat in my lap.
Cupping my face in his hands he looked into my eyes.
"And just to tell you, don't you go planning on dieing ok?" He added, smiling.
I grinned. "Ok, I won't."
"Good." He said climbing off of me and out of the bed in just his boxers, turning on the kettle in the hotel room in the process. "Because it's not good for you. Coffee?"
"Yeah sure."
He turned on the kettle before turning back to face me again with one hand on his hip.
"And don't think I'm planning on kicking the bucket either." He added.
"I don't." I smiled, laughing to myself how much he was rambling on about the whole thing.
He shrugged his shoulders. "Well, that's a good thing too.
"But don't you go thinking that this is an opportunity to not love me because we have a while yet before we go pushing up the daises." I added, my turn to rant at him.
He raised his eyebrows at me as the kettle finished boiling.
"Now why would I think that?"
I shrugged my shoulders.
"I've told you," he started, waving a spoon at me as he turned to put the coffee granules in two mugs. "You think too much."
I found it hysterically funny the way he waving a spoon and protesting at me in just his boxers first thing in the morning looking like a sex deprived Munchkin.
"You think too much and sometimes it makes you think negative things."
"Billie, you're not my parent." I laughed.
He poured the boiling water into the separate mugs. "I know, but I'm just saying. I don't want you going back to how you used to be before."
"Before... ?" I queried.
"Just... before. When you always thought you were ugly and that no body would like you and stuff like that. You're a more positive person now Stef."
"And that's all thanks to you." I smiled.
He turned around, bringing my mug over to me before going back for his. "No, you did that yourself because you're strong."
"I wouldn't be strong if you hadn't been here to support me."
He walked back over to the bed, bringing his coffee with him - careful not to spill it.
"Well, I wanted to be here for you." He told me, perching on the end of the bed and taking a sip of his drink.
I watched him, a smile appearing across my face.
"Thanks."
He looked up at me from my mug. "What for?"
"Being here for me."
He grinned before raising an eyebrow again at me. "What did I tell you about [i]thinking?"
I laughed. "Not to do it as much."
He nodded his head, smiling too. "See. I do try and make some sense."
I laughed as I taped the end of his nose playfully, one hand curled around my mug still.
"You're so cute."
He grinned sheepishly. "Like I said, I try."
"Who would have thought that I would of ended up being with THE Billie Joe Armstrong and sharing his bed with him?"
He pursed his lip before melting into a hot warm smile. "And who would have thought that I would be with THE Stef Ricketts from England who plays guitar and makes me wanna be with her more?"
"I'm nothing special." I told him.
He leaned forward and looked at me from the tops of his eyes, smirking. "Negative thoughts again."
I grinned once more. "Ok I'll stop! I can't help it, it's in my nature!"
"Well don't be o' le natural then." He told me, sipping on his coffee.
"Ok, I'll try not to be."
"Now, end of conversation." He announced, rubbing my arm soothingly. "No more negative crap. It's making me feel... negative." [/i]
*
He stood, staring out forever in the distance. He didn't no how long he had been standing there for thinking about that day, but it wasn't until someone else woke up that snapped him from his thoughts.
"What are you doing up?" Adrienne asked sleepily, blinking as she looked up a little to see her husband standing at the window.
He raised an eyebrow at her voice, turning around to face her briefly before looking back out into the distance. He sighed.
"I... couldn't sleep."
"How long have you been standing there for?" She asked, this time sitting up and resting against the headrest to the bed, pulling the duvet up over her.
"Don't know. A while. Couple of minutes maybe."
She put her hand over her mouth to cover up her yawn, before blinking again to look fully at Billie - who still had his back to her.
There was a pause between them.
"Are you going to come back to bed?" She asked, cocking her head to one side.
Unknown to her, Billie Joe closed his eyes to try and hide away.
I can't. I can't stop thinking about Stef. I can't go back to sleep.
There was another pause as he furrowed his brow.
"Maybe later." He responded with a sigh, placing his hand back on the windowsill.
This time it was Adrienne's turn to sigh and bite her lip before turning back to him.
"What's up with you Billie Joe?"
He didn't change his posture from against the windowsill.
"I just need some time to think." He told her simply, his eye caught by a car passing by.
"Think? Think about what?!"
"Just things that are on my mind, ok?" He snapped, turning to face his wife.
"Such as?"
"Why does it bother you so much?"
"Billie, I'm your wife. I thought we were supposed to tell each other things, you know, like married couples do?"
"There's nothing to tell you."
She quirked an eyebrow and frowned at him.
"What's the matter with you? You've been acting weird ever since you came back from San Francisco."
"Nothing's the matter with me Addi. Will you just get off my back ok?! Why do you think something's up with me?"
"By the way you're behaving. Like this, right now. Like you're hiding something from me."
"I've got nothing to hide." He sniped. "What have I got to hide Addi, hmmm? Tell me, what have I got to hide?"
She bit her lip as she thought, watching her husband.
"I don't know exactly. But something's up with you Billie Joe and your keeping it from me."
"Why would you think I'm keeping it from you?" he grumbled before raising his voice again. "Is that the sort of person that you see me as?"
"No, I d - "
"Because that's just fucking great."
"I'm not saying that Billie! Why are you twisting this?"
"I'm not the one who has suddenly jumped to 20 questions."
"And I'm not the one who's been in a funk for the past couple of weeks."
Billie Joe turned to look out of the window again, looking into the sky for an answer.
One he was so desperate for.
Should he tell her now? Or should he leave it and hope he would be able to carry on and save his marriage?
He furrowed his brow.
"I'm allowed to be in a funk." He grumbled, the answer to why he was only known to himself.
Adrienne sighed sadly, as well as in frustration. "I just don't know what to do anymore Billie Joe. I've tried talking to you and all you do is shut me out. You've been so distant these past few weeks, I can barely string a sentence from out of you."
He hunched over, still staring out into the night, listening to his wife.
Just stop it. I have a perfect reason to be like this so leave me, please. She's gone, and she's never coming back. What am I supposed to do? Stef's dead. That's why I'm in a funk Addi, that's fucking why.
"It's like you're somewhere else. Your minds occupied else where and it's like talking to a brick wall." She added, running her hand through her dread-locked hair that was tied up in a messy ponytail.
Billie Joe didn't answer back. He just let her ramble at him, and it made him clench his teeth closely together.
"I seriously don't know what to do anymore Billie. And what's with not talking to Tre at the moment? Did you two have another fight?"
Billie Joe's eyes narrowed at the mention of the Green Day drummer.
O no Adrienne. It was far from an argument. He took away one of the things that I loved the most. He fucking took her away and now I can never see her again because of him. That's why I'm not talking to him. That's fucking why.
"Because you two need to stop this. It's like, the past year you've constantly been arguing and fighting. I don't know what it's about but, don't you think you could at least try and sort things out?" She tried to suggest when he didn't reply. "For the sake of your friendship? And the band?"
How can I be friends with him when it was him who caused Stef to die? If he hadn't been standing there like a complete ass in the first place then there would have been no need for her to run and save him. Because she was so caring, and she couldn't watch him get hurt. Because that's the sort of person she is. She always thought about others, and she killed herself for... for that... bastard. And now she's fucking gone and there's nothing ... I can... do...
Then without warning, he let out a sniffle and the next thing he knew he could feel a tear roll down his cheek. Quickly wiping it away with his hand, he let out another sniffle as he still continued to keep his back to his wife.
His bottom lip trembling he sighed shakily, blinking to make the tears go away.
"Billie, what's the matter with you?" Adrienne asked concerned, frowning. "I'm so worried about you."
He quickly looked over his shoulder to take a glimpse of her sitting in their bed and looking up at him with pleading eyes.
"Please tell me what's wrong." She begged.
He kept silent, hesitating whether to tell her or not. And after a few minutes of silence, she suddenly let out a frustrated groan.
"I just don't understand." She huffed. "Really I don't. I try and help you and you fucking ignore me."
He bit his lip in torment as he took her sudden dose of verbal abuse.
"Heaven forbid what I'm going through here." She added, softening up the pillows quite harshly.
That did it for Billie Joe. He suddenly whipped around on his heels and narrowed his eyes, his fists clenched together as he tried to control himself.
"What you're going through?" He growled.
"Yes." She cried back at him. "What I'm going through. Worrying about you and trying to keep the kids happy too by the way you're behaving, because at the moment you don't seem to even acknowledge that they're here at the moment either."
"That's a lie." He bit. "You know I try with our kids as best as I can."
"I know you do, but at the moment, it just feels as if you're neglecting them. Fine, I can handle you not talking to me, but taking it out on the kids? Their too young to be victims of this."
"Of what?!" He yelled suddenly.
She looked at him hard.
"Of what Addi? Of fucking what?"
"Keep your voice down! The kids are asleep." She scowled at him.
"Just answer me." He growled back in a manipulative tone.
She stared at him as he edged his face nearer, his lip curling a little at the side and partly wanting her to shout at him, just so he could shout back and let go of some of the negative energy that he had trapped inside of him.
"Of you!" She suddenly barked. "Of the way you're being and acting. They're too young to have to suffer from your little mood swings and us arguing! Because I'm so sick of this Billie Joe! It breaks my heart every time they ask what's the matter with you, because even I don't know and it just shows how much you're having an effect on them. And they don't deserve it."
Billie could feel the tears start to appear in the corners of his eyes again, and then as he stared into the eyes of his wife of 11 years, almost 12, he stood back and bit his lip. He turned on his heels again and slipped on a pair of jeans, staggering about the room frustrated.
"What are you doing?" Adrienne asked him, watching him loose balance for a few moments before sliding the jeans up and zipping them closed.
Doing up his belt buckle, he refused to face her. "I'm going."
"Where?" She asked confusedly, and somewhat scared of what he might do.
"Just... out. Away."
Leaving on the T-Shirt he had been wearing in bed, he slipped on his battered Chucks that sat in the corner of the room before heading out of the bedroom.
She watched him before crying back to him just as he reached the door.
"Don't think of trying to run away from this Billie! You can't hide forever."
He turned around, his fist clenched tightly around the door handle.
"No, but runaway is the only thing I can seem to do at the moment Addi." He sniped at her, before leaving out through the door and closing it behind him again.
Sauntering down the steps, he picked up his keys and wallet from off of the island table that sat in their living room, before pocketing his cell into his jeans.
Checking the time quickly, he then picked his jacket from off of the back of one of the kitchen chairs and slipped it over his frame, not bothering to do it up as he dangled his keys between his index finger and thumb.
Quietly, he opened the front door, locking it again behind him for the safety of the rest of his family that were still inside. He wasn't that much of an ass to leave the door open to them.
Jumping in his Ford Fairlane, he slipped his keys into the ignition and drove out of the drive, the sky still dark as the street lamps lit it to a dim.
His fists clamped around the steering wheel tightly, he drove into the night for what seemed like an eternity.
He didn't even acknowledge that he was in the city of San Francisco until he was crossing the Golden Bridge.
Looking up out of the window for a brief moment, he took in the city's skyline, and how it had changed drastically over the last few weeks.
Driving into a parking lot, he parked up his vehicle and jumped out, striding up the welcoming steps and slipping through the door into the entrance and heading towards the reception desk.
"Erm, can I have a room please?" He asked shakily, trying to swallow back his tears still.
As the receptionist typed into her computer to check for vacancies, he then leaned across the desk and added to the request as he was searching through his wallet.
"It has to be room 345." He added.
The receptionist looked up at him, quirking an eyebrow.
"I'm sorry sir, but we can't just give you that room."
"That room, please." He asked sternly.
"Are you demanding me?" She asked angrily.
"Yes I am."
She looked at him before sighing deeply and looking at the computer again before turning back to him.
"I'm sorry, the rooms booked for a couple that are arriving tomorrow."
"I'll be out by the morning." He told her coldly.
She eyed him again before rolling her eyes and hastily giving him the room.
"That's $275 then, sir."
Wadding out the cash, he handed it to her before passing her a separate $20.
"Here, that's for the couple tomorrow." He told her as she confusingly took it from him. "Tell them, if they have any problems to come and see me personally."
Taking the key to the room from her across the desk, he walked around the corner and up the stairs until he reached the 4th floor and crept down the hallway. When he reached the room, he stood outside, staring at the key in his hand before taking a deep breath and opening up the door.
Stepping into the darkness, he quietly shut the door behind him and walked to the main part of the room, where he just seemed to stare around it with sadness.
The last time he had been here was when he had come back from the terrorist attack, and Stef had just died.
This was his and Stef's room. This was where they had talked, kissed, made love, comforted each other, and even planned their future together.
Putting his wallet and keys down onto the desk as well as taking his cell out of his pocket and putting it with them, he walked over to the side of the bed without even turning the light on.
Slipping off his shoes and jacket, which he put onto the floor, he pulled back the duvet and slipped under the sheets of the bed.
Burying himself down deep into the bed he curled himself up into a ball and wrapped the sheets around his body tightly for some kind of comfort.
And the fact that he was alone in the bed haunted him. There was no Stef there lying next to him like it had always been, and he couldn't take it in.
It killed him slowly, and he hated it.
And then he let out a sob that rang out through the room, before he started to cry continuously.
Crying quietly to himself, his sniffles being the only thing that stirred inside the darkened room as he griped hold of the pillow next to him in agony, before slowly crying himself to sleep.
I'm just the pieces of the man I used to be,
Too many bitter tears are raining down on me.
I'm far away from home,
And I've been facing this alone for much too long.
I've feel like no one ever told the truth to me,
About growing up and what a struggle it could be.
In my tangled state of my mind,
I've been looking back to find where I went wrong.
Too much love will kill you,
If you can't make up your mind.
Torn between the lover,
And the love you leave behind.
You're heading for disaster,
Cos' you never read the signs.
Too much love will kill you
Everytime.
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