A Note Never Came Easy, chapter 2
Billie Joe woke up, the sunlight shining through the window to the hotel room and blinding him as he opened his eyes for the first time that day.
Squinting, he closed them again as he turned around under the duvet, the sheets a mess and smothering his body, keeping him tangled there.
Biting his bottom lip and opening one eye he looked to the left of him. He always seemed to sleep on that side of the bed.
And for a moment, the way in which he had woken up and looked around the room could have been mistaken for another day back in the first month or two of the year.
His heart suddenly thumping and becoming more aware of his surroundings, his eyes widened at the thought.
What if it was a dream?
He smiled to himself, the first he had done in the last few weeks. It was weak, but there for a few seconds.
A glimmer of hope in his eyes, he twisted himself around amongst the sheets.
"Stef?" He whispered excitedly, before leaning forward.
But as he pulled back the duvet to see no one there next to him in the bed, his heart sank and broke even more.
He had been so sure that she had been there.
He hadn't been back in the hotel since Stef had died, and he had left that day. So the last time he had woken up in this bed, she had been there.
So it was understandable and perfectly normal for him to wake up and think she was going to be there lying next to him like it had always been.
What he been so used to for the last past year.
Rolling back onto his back, he stared up at the ceiling, so confused about everything still.
Looking ahead at the bottoms of his eyes, he saw his wallet, keys, and cell on the desk together, where he had dumped them last night.
He sighed sadly, remembering the drive down from Oakland after he had had another argument with Adrienne.
It hurt him even more to know that he was hurting her too, but he couldn't help it. He felt as guilty as hell afterwards, but at the time, it seemed the logical thing to do.
And that was bite back.
Slowly heaving himself up, he sat up in the bed and looked around the room a little dazed, not sure what to do with himself.
Looking down to the floor by the side of the bed, he saw his jacket and shoes in a pile in the corner, crumpled up where he had thrown them too last night before climbing into bed.
Forcing himself, he got up and sat on the edge of bed hunched over, pulling the duvet back as he drew his hands down the sides of his face.
*
Billie Joe walked out of the room, glancing back to see me lying peacefully in the hospital bed.
Tears staining his cheeks, he shut the door and walked down the corridor before he reached the elevators.
So many thoughts were going through his mind right now, it was torturing him.
He still found it hard to believe what had happened.
Last night we had been at the Grammies, and he had wanted it to work out so well. And it had all blown up in his face, all because of one person.
One person that he despised right now - Rachael.
He even hated her more than Jimmy at this particular point.
And to see the way I had reacted when I had seen her in his room - it broke his heart.
Knowing that I had tried to kill myself because of his stupid behavior a few hours ago just made him turn himself inside.
He hated it. He had never wanted it to turn out like this. Me trying to kill myself, that is.
Hopping into the elevator, he pushed the button and watched as the doors closed in front of him.
Leaning against the back of the moving human box, he ran his hand down over his face, closing his eyes for a few moments before he felt himself come to a stop.
Opening them again, he slumped through the doors that moved open for him and into the reception area and lobby.
His hands in his pockets and his head hung low, he walked towards the exit and dragged his feet outside.
Caught by a quick whip of wind, he looked about as he stood just outside the entrance, before walking to the right of him.
Leaning against the small wall that came up to his chest, he looked out across the bay, which was situated on the right of the hospital.
The same Bay that I had attempted to throw myself in earlier this morning on the other side of town, but he didn't know that yet.
Looking down into the water, the sun reflecting off of it, he frowned sadly, biting the inside of his cheek.
His eyes were bloodshot and glazed over, the signs of lack of shave starting to show through on the bottom of his face as well as dishevelled hair.
And without a warning he suddenly burst out into a fit of sobs and buried his face in his hands, the outburst surprising himself.
Slouching a small bit, he seemed to slump down the wall until he was weak in the knees as he continued to wail.
"Why'd you do it?" He sobbed, looking up at the hospital and at the windows of a couple of floors, one of them possibly being my particular hospital room - where I was now crying myself too.
Billie Joe hadn't known that I had been awake, and as soon as he had gone, I had started to cry to myself too.
I had been so stupid to try and kill myself. All I could think about was the terror inside of him when he had found me, the tears he had shed and the look he had given me when I had blacked out in the back of the car.
I hated myself for doing it. I just didn't know what to think anymore. Even crying hurt me.
All I wanted was for Billie Joe to hold me, let everything go that had ever happened and understand how I felt.
I wanted to be able to pour my heart out to him like he had just done me, explaining everything and why I had been acting like I had lately.
Looking back up at the drip that was attached to my arm still, I read the label again, to see Tre's name.
He had given me blood, and again, it made me feel guilty. It tore at my heart that they had all put themselves through the unbearable to save me, when I had been so stupid to even put that knife I had stolen to my wrists.
I rolled over and clutched hold of the pillow, sobbing as I closed my eyes and thought of everything that Billie Joe had just told me.
As he stood slumped against the wall, Billie Joe wiped away his tears, looking out across the Bay one more time before turning around, wrapping his arms around himself tightly - folding them.
He started to slowly walk away from the hospital in a daze, watching his feet as he staggered amongst other people walking down the boulevard.
He managed to make it to about halfway down before suddenly turning to his right, throwing his upper body over the wall and throwing up into the water below, his insides retching as he heaved - his body tired and aching.
*
Shuddering, Billie Joe looked up around the room again, and as he thought back to himself looking into that water and throwing his guts up, it made him reach at that very moment and run from off of the bed into the bathroom.
Throwing the toilet seat up he threw his head down and let his stomach hack up everything that was inside of him.
And it wasn't much - he hadn't eaten anything for the past day or so, so it was just... bile and acids.
His head thumped madly as he crouched down against the toilet, placing his hand on his temple as he closed his eyes.
It reminded him of the time when Stef had been sick the day she had died, in this very bathroom.
His eyes suddenly snapping open in horror, he threw himself back from the toilet, knocking his left knee in the process and falling back across the bathroom suite floor. Scrambling to his feet and leaning in the doorway slumped, he looked horrifically at where he had just been sitting - the exact same place Stef had been in when she had thrown up 3 times that day.
It was as if he could see her there still, so helpless and weak, and it haunted him.
*
Suddenly, without a warning, I ran to the bathroom and threw up into the toilet.
"Stef... ?" Billie Joe sleepily cried out at the sound of me throwing everything I had to eat last night up and down into the toilet.
"Stef?" He called out again as I heard him behind me, watching me from behind, slumped over the toilet.
Crouching down he placed his hand on the small of my back and rubbed it soothingly.
"Are you ok?"
Nodding slowly and weak like, he looked at me with concern. "How come you're sick?"
I shrugged my shoulders. I knew I would throw up again if I tried to talk.
After a few silent minutes of me hung over the toilet and Billie Joe crouched by my side, I tried to stand up.
Slowly I managed to do it, Billie Joe following me and placing his hands around my arms to support me.
He took me back to bed and laid me down, sitting down next to me with one leg hooked under the rest of his body.
He stroked my hair soothingly as I wearily looked at him, miserable.
"What made you throw up like that?" He asked.
"I dunno. I just woke up, and needed to be sick."
"Was it something you ate last night?"
"I don't think so. I think I would have been sick during the night if that was it."
He frowned.
"It's probably just a stomach bug or something." I shrugged off, sighing.
"You want to go to the doctors?" He asked me, holding my hand.
I shook my head. "No. I'll be fine by tomorrow."
But again I found myself quickly jumping out of the bed and throwing up, Billie Joe in tow behind me.
As I heaved again, he looked down on me - deeply concerned.
"I'm going to take you to the doctors." He told me, the tone of his voice meaning business.
Finishing, I stood up and leant against his chest, feeling weak still. Putting his arms around me he kept me so warm.
*
A cold shiver running down his spine at the vision he was seeing, he stumbled out of the bathroom and leaned against the desk with his hand, supporting the rest of his body.
He wondered if he was sick, or whether he was just finally going mad.
Breaking out into a cold sweat he wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans that he had quickly slipped on last night during his row with Adie.
He popped in some paracetamol that he always kept in his wallet for good measure, swallowing it down with a glass of water that he had poured from the bathroom sink.
Placing on his shoes and jacket, he grabbed his wallet, keys and cell before picking up the room key and heading back down into the reception.
It was still quite early in the morning, so not that many people were around when he made an appearance.
Handing over the key to the receptionist without a word, a different one this time, he headed outside and started to walk into the city, his hands in his pockets.
He knew that he shouldn't be going anywhere near the city, considering what it meant to him, but he couldn't stop himself.
He usually went on walks when he had things on his mind, but maybe this wasn't the right place to clear his mind in.
If anything, it would make it worse for him.
Hunched over slightly, he didn't look to where he was going, he just randomly walked.
He saw places that he and Stef had visited together, or certain areas where he remembered particular things that had happened, or said even.
With the Bay and River in view, he grew tired of walking and sat down on one of the benches in the boulevard that overlooked the big mass of brilliant clear water, the Golden Bridge in view too.
Feeling nothing but emptiness, he stared down at the ground, deep in thought.
What the hell am I going to do?
Sniffling, he frowned and looked at across the water like he had done so many times before.
He bit his lip in frustration of what to do.
I don't know what to do anymore. She's gone. What can I do? I'm just so lost... I need her. If only she knew. And I never told her how much I loved her...
Catching him off guard and making him jump, he felt his cell vibrating in his jeans pocket.
He reluctantly digged with his hand and pulled out his cell, flipping it open and recklessly pressing it to his ear.
"Mike." He stated, instead of a simple hello.
"Hey Bill." The bassist said on the other head, a tone of concern in his voice. "You doing ok?"
Billie Joe sighed, as he looked up at all the different people around him. "What do you think?"
He ran his hand over his eyes to keep himself awake. He hadn't had a decent night's sleep since Stef had died.
And who could blame him?
An insomniac originally, he now had the extra element of not being able to sleep added, causing him to have no sleep what so ever, no matter what he did.
He had even tried Valium to calm himself, or nearly even took an over dose of sleeping pills because he was so desperate.
There was a pause between them before Mike spoke again.
"Adrienne told me about your spat you had with her last night."
It was always that way now. Mike seemed to always find out what had happened to him, and the things that had been said or done between him and his wife. Either because he knew him too much, or because Adrienne had called him, or he had called her to check up on the guitarist.
Mike was like Billie Joe's guardian now. Always looking out for him and making sure he made it through every day.
"Um... yeah." Billie admitted, hating it.
"Do you wanna tell me what happened?" His best friend asked him.
"I dunno Mike." Billie groaned, sadly looking at the ground. "It just sorta... blew. I can't keep this up. I couldn't sleep, I was thinking, and she just... started on me."
"Well, what were you thinking about?"
"You know what I was thinking about Mike. You know who."
"Sorry, it was a erm... stupid question."
Billie Joe silently agreed.
"So, what did she say then?"
"I'm a bad husband Mike. I feel so guilty but I can't help it."
He sighed. "It's a difficult situation Billie Joe. She's not going to be able to understand right now."
"No. But she did say I was a bad father."
There was an awkward silence amongst the two of them. And Mike knew too well that Billie Joe wasn't.
"Billie, you're not a bad father - "
"I know I'm not Mike. But she seems to think that."
"Has she found out yet? About, what happened I mean?"
"Not yet."
"Are you going to tell her?"
"I want to tell her I really do. A part of me wants to just blurt it out, but then the other part wants to just keep it all in, and not admit what's happened. Because if I admit it... then it's... it's true... And I can't help but blame myself Mike... "
"No one's blaming you Billie."
"No." He whispered shakily. "But I could have made things easier."
"We all could have done."
Billie's eyes lingered from out ahead to his feet once again as he listened to his best friend.
And he was the only one he felt he could trust right now.
"I shouldn't have let her go out. I should have kept her inside, she was sick anyways. I should have said no to her coming out--"
"You weren't to know." Mike told him as the green-eyed rocker went off on one.
"But I should have been more sensible. Even at the restaurant she said she felt ill. That's why she had water instead of that drink Tr- ... that he ordered." Billie corrected himself, his lip curling at the end at the thought of the drummer.
Billie didn't know it, but right now Mike was furrowing his brow with his phone pressed against his ear, feeling awkward about the situation, trying to fight the sadness of the events that had happened himself.
But he knew he had to be strong, for Billie Joe.
He was the only one who could look out for him without having an argument with him.
Adrienne was just making things harder for Billie, and Tre, well... he hadn't spoken to Tre since the day Stef had died.
And it panged at Mike's heart a little to know that this could be the end of Billie and Tre's friendship.
They'd had their quarrels before, but this was just beyond anything.
"I should have taken her to the hospital straight away." Billie continued, starting to panic again, even if he knew there was nothing he could now do to help. "I should have acted sooner. Maybe if she hadn't been ill that day she would have survived the collapse. If she had been fit in health before then maybe she could have been able to hold on a little longer, and then she would still be here."
He didn't realise it but tears had started to swell up in his tired eyes once again.
"I... I just want her back Mike. Is that too much to ask?" He whimpered, leaning forward and placing his head in his hand, the other holding the phone to his ear.
"No. Nobody likes to see the people they love the most die."
"I just... " Billie Joe sobbed, wiping his eyes that had started to water. "I just still can't believe it you know? That she's gone. I still expect to see her around the corner or be there every time I walk into a room. I thought she was there this morning. I woke up and thought she was lying there next to me, like it had all been a... a big nightmare. But... I pulled back the sheet... and she wasn't. And I wanted to scream... because I hate it. I hate it so fucking much... "
He sniffled, his small unheard cries racketing against his rib cage as he fought so hard to keep them in.
"I know Billie, I know you do." Mike spoke softly to him.
They had had this conversation so many times over the last weeks it was routine.
"Do you think if I prayed enough she would come back?" He suddenly asked Mike, desperate.
A lump rose in Mike's throat. "Billie, I -- "
"Because I've thought about it. I've done it a few times, but it never works. So I thought that if I kept doing it, he would get pissed off with me and have to give her back to me."
It scared Mike at how Billie Joe was talking, biting his bottom lip in horror as he listened to him on the other end of the phone go on and on and on.
He certainly wasn't the same person he had know for over 23 years. Something had over taken him and changed him.
And it scared the living piss out of the bassist.
"You know, some people raise from the dead. Sometimes the doctors even get it wrong and it turns out the person didn't die, and they woke up later alive. They had just been in some sort of coma and they had been alive all that time. Maybe that's what happened to her, maybe she's still alive and nobody knows and she's trying to get out and -- "
"Billie, she's gone." Mike blurted out, cutting Billie short of his sentence, silence falling over them again.
He knew it was a harsh thing to say, but he had done it for the guitarist's own good. He couldn't let him believe that Stef would come back, because she wasn't going to. It would be wrong to watch him hang onto a false hope that only existed in his unstable mind.
"Right." Billie Joe managed to say, chocking back the tears and taking in what Mike had just said.
He knew he was being stupid, but he was so desperate. He wanted a miracle to happen, and he was willing to go to any measure to try and bring her back. Even if it meant doing the extraordinary for his character and go ahead and pray 24/7.
An awkward silence fell upon them once again.
"I know it's harsh Bill," Mike explained. "But she's not going to come back. I can't watch you hang onto hope that she'll come back, because she wont. I can't let you do that because it'll make things worse."
"Yeah." Billie grumbled sadly. "I know."
He hated admitting it, biting the inside to his cheek in anger and disappointment dropping at the pit of his stomach.
"I'm sorry I said that to you. I don't mean to hit you with it any harder."
"No, you're right Mike." Billie sighed, hurting again. "I was being stupid. Because she's never coming back. No matter what I try. Even if I do pray for the rest of my life, she's just... not gonna come back is she?"
He laughed at the last sentence, trying to laugh his stupidity off, when really he was crying inside and all he wanted to do was scream.
"Billie, don't be like that. I didn't mean it how you took it."
"Oh no, it's ok Mike. I didn't. I completely understand what you're trying to say."
Mike could tell he was being sarcastic and bitter towards him, but he wasn't going to argue. It wasn't what the suffering guitarist needed right now, and he also knew that he was the only person there to help him. He didn't want to spit fire and turn against him too.
"Well, only if you're sure."
"I'm sure." Billie Joe replied quickly.
Mike clicked his tongue against the root of his mouth.
"Ok. So what are you going to do now?"
"Dunno. Go for a walk maybe, try and clear my head."
"Well, are you sure you're going to be ok?"
"Yeah. If I decide to kill myself, then I'll let you know just before."
Mike clenched his together in torment, the last sentence scaring him again. Because that was exactly what he was afraid of.
Of waking up to find out that Billie Joe had killed himself.
"Well, I'm always here if you need anything yeah?"
"Don't say that." Billie told him.
"What?"
"That you'll always be here. That's what Stef told me."
Mike shockingly looked at the tiled floor to his kitchen as he leaned against the counter top.
"I... I'm sorry."
"She said she would always be here for me and she would always love me. But she lied to me. She's gone and I need her more than ever right now."
Mike pursed his lips as he listened closely to his friend's mumbling, trying not to let it get him down.
"She's still with you Billie. Even though she may not be alive, she's still watching over you. And I know she loved you more than anything in the world. And if she had the choice, I know she would be here, to keep that promise to you."
A tear fell down Billie Joe's face, who wiped it away quickly with his hand.
"Yeah. I hope so."
"Just, keep safe for me yeah? Promise me you will." Mike begged.
"Yeah... sure... " He grumbled as a reply, trying to hold his tears in again.
"Well, I'll probably call you later yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Ok then. Keep safe Billie Joe. Bye."
"... Bye."
Billie Joe closed his cell shut and with it resting on his leg, he just stared at the ground, the sunlight creeping up against his back as morning broke.
Slowly, as if in a trance, he pocketed his cell and leaned back against the bench, continuing to stare at the ground.
"Erm... excuse me?"
A shadow cast over the side of Billie as he slowly looked up to see a young girl staring down at him with excited eyes.
"Are you Billie Joe Armstrong from Green Day?"
He looked up at her with sad eyes.
"No."
She quirked an eyebrow at him, confused and slightly dumbfounded at what he was saying to her. She pointed a finger at him in protest to say something else but he spoke before her.
"I used to be." He sighed, looking ahead again, avoiding eye contact with her. "I'm not that guy anymore."
And then he got up from the bench and walked away, sliding his hands into his pockets and leaving her to watch him, trying to figure out what he had just said.
I'm just the shadow of the man I used to be,
And it seems like there's no way out of this for me.
I used to bring you sunshine,
Now all I ever do is bring you down.
How would it be if you were standing in my shoes?
Can't you see that it's impossible to choose?
No there's no making sense of it,
Every way I go I'm bound to lose.
Too much love will kill you.
Just as sure as none at all.
It'll drain the power that's in you,
Make you plead and scream and crawl.
And the pain will make you crazy,
You're the victim of your crime.
Too much love will kill you,
Every time.
Squinting, he closed them again as he turned around under the duvet, the sheets a mess and smothering his body, keeping him tangled there.
Biting his bottom lip and opening one eye he looked to the left of him. He always seemed to sleep on that side of the bed.
And for a moment, the way in which he had woken up and looked around the room could have been mistaken for another day back in the first month or two of the year.
His heart suddenly thumping and becoming more aware of his surroundings, his eyes widened at the thought.
What if it was a dream?
He smiled to himself, the first he had done in the last few weeks. It was weak, but there for a few seconds.
A glimmer of hope in his eyes, he twisted himself around amongst the sheets.
"Stef?" He whispered excitedly, before leaning forward.
But as he pulled back the duvet to see no one there next to him in the bed, his heart sank and broke even more.
He had been so sure that she had been there.
He hadn't been back in the hotel since Stef had died, and he had left that day. So the last time he had woken up in this bed, she had been there.
So it was understandable and perfectly normal for him to wake up and think she was going to be there lying next to him like it had always been.
What he been so used to for the last past year.
Rolling back onto his back, he stared up at the ceiling, so confused about everything still.
Looking ahead at the bottoms of his eyes, he saw his wallet, keys, and cell on the desk together, where he had dumped them last night.
He sighed sadly, remembering the drive down from Oakland after he had had another argument with Adrienne.
It hurt him even more to know that he was hurting her too, but he couldn't help it. He felt as guilty as hell afterwards, but at the time, it seemed the logical thing to do.
And that was bite back.
Slowly heaving himself up, he sat up in the bed and looked around the room a little dazed, not sure what to do with himself.
Looking down to the floor by the side of the bed, he saw his jacket and shoes in a pile in the corner, crumpled up where he had thrown them too last night before climbing into bed.
Forcing himself, he got up and sat on the edge of bed hunched over, pulling the duvet back as he drew his hands down the sides of his face.
*
Billie Joe walked out of the room, glancing back to see me lying peacefully in the hospital bed.
Tears staining his cheeks, he shut the door and walked down the corridor before he reached the elevators.
So many thoughts were going through his mind right now, it was torturing him.
He still found it hard to believe what had happened.
Last night we had been at the Grammies, and he had wanted it to work out so well. And it had all blown up in his face, all because of one person.
One person that he despised right now - Rachael.
He even hated her more than Jimmy at this particular point.
And to see the way I had reacted when I had seen her in his room - it broke his heart.
Knowing that I had tried to kill myself because of his stupid behavior a few hours ago just made him turn himself inside.
He hated it. He had never wanted it to turn out like this. Me trying to kill myself, that is.
Hopping into the elevator, he pushed the button and watched as the doors closed in front of him.
Leaning against the back of the moving human box, he ran his hand down over his face, closing his eyes for a few moments before he felt himself come to a stop.
Opening them again, he slumped through the doors that moved open for him and into the reception area and lobby.
His hands in his pockets and his head hung low, he walked towards the exit and dragged his feet outside.
Caught by a quick whip of wind, he looked about as he stood just outside the entrance, before walking to the right of him.
Leaning against the small wall that came up to his chest, he looked out across the bay, which was situated on the right of the hospital.
The same Bay that I had attempted to throw myself in earlier this morning on the other side of town, but he didn't know that yet.
Looking down into the water, the sun reflecting off of it, he frowned sadly, biting the inside of his cheek.
His eyes were bloodshot and glazed over, the signs of lack of shave starting to show through on the bottom of his face as well as dishevelled hair.
And without a warning he suddenly burst out into a fit of sobs and buried his face in his hands, the outburst surprising himself.
Slouching a small bit, he seemed to slump down the wall until he was weak in the knees as he continued to wail.
"Why'd you do it?" He sobbed, looking up at the hospital and at the windows of a couple of floors, one of them possibly being my particular hospital room - where I was now crying myself too.
Billie Joe hadn't known that I had been awake, and as soon as he had gone, I had started to cry to myself too.
I had been so stupid to try and kill myself. All I could think about was the terror inside of him when he had found me, the tears he had shed and the look he had given me when I had blacked out in the back of the car.
I hated myself for doing it. I just didn't know what to think anymore. Even crying hurt me.
All I wanted was for Billie Joe to hold me, let everything go that had ever happened and understand how I felt.
I wanted to be able to pour my heart out to him like he had just done me, explaining everything and why I had been acting like I had lately.
Looking back up at the drip that was attached to my arm still, I read the label again, to see Tre's name.
He had given me blood, and again, it made me feel guilty. It tore at my heart that they had all put themselves through the unbearable to save me, when I had been so stupid to even put that knife I had stolen to my wrists.
I rolled over and clutched hold of the pillow, sobbing as I closed my eyes and thought of everything that Billie Joe had just told me.
As he stood slumped against the wall, Billie Joe wiped away his tears, looking out across the Bay one more time before turning around, wrapping his arms around himself tightly - folding them.
He started to slowly walk away from the hospital in a daze, watching his feet as he staggered amongst other people walking down the boulevard.
He managed to make it to about halfway down before suddenly turning to his right, throwing his upper body over the wall and throwing up into the water below, his insides retching as he heaved - his body tired and aching.
*
Shuddering, Billie Joe looked up around the room again, and as he thought back to himself looking into that water and throwing his guts up, it made him reach at that very moment and run from off of the bed into the bathroom.
Throwing the toilet seat up he threw his head down and let his stomach hack up everything that was inside of him.
And it wasn't much - he hadn't eaten anything for the past day or so, so it was just... bile and acids.
His head thumped madly as he crouched down against the toilet, placing his hand on his temple as he closed his eyes.
It reminded him of the time when Stef had been sick the day she had died, in this very bathroom.
His eyes suddenly snapping open in horror, he threw himself back from the toilet, knocking his left knee in the process and falling back across the bathroom suite floor. Scrambling to his feet and leaning in the doorway slumped, he looked horrifically at where he had just been sitting - the exact same place Stef had been in when she had thrown up 3 times that day.
It was as if he could see her there still, so helpless and weak, and it haunted him.
*
Suddenly, without a warning, I ran to the bathroom and threw up into the toilet.
"Stef... ?" Billie Joe sleepily cried out at the sound of me throwing everything I had to eat last night up and down into the toilet.
"Stef?" He called out again as I heard him behind me, watching me from behind, slumped over the toilet.
Crouching down he placed his hand on the small of my back and rubbed it soothingly.
"Are you ok?"
Nodding slowly and weak like, he looked at me with concern. "How come you're sick?"
I shrugged my shoulders. I knew I would throw up again if I tried to talk.
After a few silent minutes of me hung over the toilet and Billie Joe crouched by my side, I tried to stand up.
Slowly I managed to do it, Billie Joe following me and placing his hands around my arms to support me.
He took me back to bed and laid me down, sitting down next to me with one leg hooked under the rest of his body.
He stroked my hair soothingly as I wearily looked at him, miserable.
"What made you throw up like that?" He asked.
"I dunno. I just woke up, and needed to be sick."
"Was it something you ate last night?"
"I don't think so. I think I would have been sick during the night if that was it."
He frowned.
"It's probably just a stomach bug or something." I shrugged off, sighing.
"You want to go to the doctors?" He asked me, holding my hand.
I shook my head. "No. I'll be fine by tomorrow."
But again I found myself quickly jumping out of the bed and throwing up, Billie Joe in tow behind me.
As I heaved again, he looked down on me - deeply concerned.
"I'm going to take you to the doctors." He told me, the tone of his voice meaning business.
Finishing, I stood up and leant against his chest, feeling weak still. Putting his arms around me he kept me so warm.
*
A cold shiver running down his spine at the vision he was seeing, he stumbled out of the bathroom and leaned against the desk with his hand, supporting the rest of his body.
He wondered if he was sick, or whether he was just finally going mad.
Breaking out into a cold sweat he wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans that he had quickly slipped on last night during his row with Adie.
He popped in some paracetamol that he always kept in his wallet for good measure, swallowing it down with a glass of water that he had poured from the bathroom sink.
Placing on his shoes and jacket, he grabbed his wallet, keys and cell before picking up the room key and heading back down into the reception.
It was still quite early in the morning, so not that many people were around when he made an appearance.
Handing over the key to the receptionist without a word, a different one this time, he headed outside and started to walk into the city, his hands in his pockets.
He knew that he shouldn't be going anywhere near the city, considering what it meant to him, but he couldn't stop himself.
He usually went on walks when he had things on his mind, but maybe this wasn't the right place to clear his mind in.
If anything, it would make it worse for him.
Hunched over slightly, he didn't look to where he was going, he just randomly walked.
He saw places that he and Stef had visited together, or certain areas where he remembered particular things that had happened, or said even.
With the Bay and River in view, he grew tired of walking and sat down on one of the benches in the boulevard that overlooked the big mass of brilliant clear water, the Golden Bridge in view too.
Feeling nothing but emptiness, he stared down at the ground, deep in thought.
What the hell am I going to do?
Sniffling, he frowned and looked at across the water like he had done so many times before.
He bit his lip in frustration of what to do.
I don't know what to do anymore. She's gone. What can I do? I'm just so lost... I need her. If only she knew. And I never told her how much I loved her...
Catching him off guard and making him jump, he felt his cell vibrating in his jeans pocket.
He reluctantly digged with his hand and pulled out his cell, flipping it open and recklessly pressing it to his ear.
"Mike." He stated, instead of a simple hello.
"Hey Bill." The bassist said on the other head, a tone of concern in his voice. "You doing ok?"
Billie Joe sighed, as he looked up at all the different people around him. "What do you think?"
He ran his hand over his eyes to keep himself awake. He hadn't had a decent night's sleep since Stef had died.
And who could blame him?
An insomniac originally, he now had the extra element of not being able to sleep added, causing him to have no sleep what so ever, no matter what he did.
He had even tried Valium to calm himself, or nearly even took an over dose of sleeping pills because he was so desperate.
There was a pause between them before Mike spoke again.
"Adrienne told me about your spat you had with her last night."
It was always that way now. Mike seemed to always find out what had happened to him, and the things that had been said or done between him and his wife. Either because he knew him too much, or because Adrienne had called him, or he had called her to check up on the guitarist.
Mike was like Billie Joe's guardian now. Always looking out for him and making sure he made it through every day.
"Um... yeah." Billie admitted, hating it.
"Do you wanna tell me what happened?" His best friend asked him.
"I dunno Mike." Billie groaned, sadly looking at the ground. "It just sorta... blew. I can't keep this up. I couldn't sleep, I was thinking, and she just... started on me."
"Well, what were you thinking about?"
"You know what I was thinking about Mike. You know who."
"Sorry, it was a erm... stupid question."
Billie Joe silently agreed.
"So, what did she say then?"
"I'm a bad husband Mike. I feel so guilty but I can't help it."
He sighed. "It's a difficult situation Billie Joe. She's not going to be able to understand right now."
"No. But she did say I was a bad father."
There was an awkward silence amongst the two of them. And Mike knew too well that Billie Joe wasn't.
"Billie, you're not a bad father - "
"I know I'm not Mike. But she seems to think that."
"Has she found out yet? About, what happened I mean?"
"Not yet."
"Are you going to tell her?"
"I want to tell her I really do. A part of me wants to just blurt it out, but then the other part wants to just keep it all in, and not admit what's happened. Because if I admit it... then it's... it's true... And I can't help but blame myself Mike... "
"No one's blaming you Billie."
"No." He whispered shakily. "But I could have made things easier."
"We all could have done."
Billie's eyes lingered from out ahead to his feet once again as he listened to his best friend.
And he was the only one he felt he could trust right now.
"I shouldn't have let her go out. I should have kept her inside, she was sick anyways. I should have said no to her coming out--"
"You weren't to know." Mike told him as the green-eyed rocker went off on one.
"But I should have been more sensible. Even at the restaurant she said she felt ill. That's why she had water instead of that drink Tr- ... that he ordered." Billie corrected himself, his lip curling at the end at the thought of the drummer.
Billie didn't know it, but right now Mike was furrowing his brow with his phone pressed against his ear, feeling awkward about the situation, trying to fight the sadness of the events that had happened himself.
But he knew he had to be strong, for Billie Joe.
He was the only one who could look out for him without having an argument with him.
Adrienne was just making things harder for Billie, and Tre, well... he hadn't spoken to Tre since the day Stef had died.
And it panged at Mike's heart a little to know that this could be the end of Billie and Tre's friendship.
They'd had their quarrels before, but this was just beyond anything.
"I should have taken her to the hospital straight away." Billie continued, starting to panic again, even if he knew there was nothing he could now do to help. "I should have acted sooner. Maybe if she hadn't been ill that day she would have survived the collapse. If she had been fit in health before then maybe she could have been able to hold on a little longer, and then she would still be here."
He didn't realise it but tears had started to swell up in his tired eyes once again.
"I... I just want her back Mike. Is that too much to ask?" He whimpered, leaning forward and placing his head in his hand, the other holding the phone to his ear.
"No. Nobody likes to see the people they love the most die."
"I just... " Billie Joe sobbed, wiping his eyes that had started to water. "I just still can't believe it you know? That she's gone. I still expect to see her around the corner or be there every time I walk into a room. I thought she was there this morning. I woke up and thought she was lying there next to me, like it had all been a... a big nightmare. But... I pulled back the sheet... and she wasn't. And I wanted to scream... because I hate it. I hate it so fucking much... "
He sniffled, his small unheard cries racketing against his rib cage as he fought so hard to keep them in.
"I know Billie, I know you do." Mike spoke softly to him.
They had had this conversation so many times over the last weeks it was routine.
"Do you think if I prayed enough she would come back?" He suddenly asked Mike, desperate.
A lump rose in Mike's throat. "Billie, I -- "
"Because I've thought about it. I've done it a few times, but it never works. So I thought that if I kept doing it, he would get pissed off with me and have to give her back to me."
It scared Mike at how Billie Joe was talking, biting his bottom lip in horror as he listened to him on the other end of the phone go on and on and on.
He certainly wasn't the same person he had know for over 23 years. Something had over taken him and changed him.
And it scared the living piss out of the bassist.
"You know, some people raise from the dead. Sometimes the doctors even get it wrong and it turns out the person didn't die, and they woke up later alive. They had just been in some sort of coma and they had been alive all that time. Maybe that's what happened to her, maybe she's still alive and nobody knows and she's trying to get out and -- "
"Billie, she's gone." Mike blurted out, cutting Billie short of his sentence, silence falling over them again.
He knew it was a harsh thing to say, but he had done it for the guitarist's own good. He couldn't let him believe that Stef would come back, because she wasn't going to. It would be wrong to watch him hang onto a false hope that only existed in his unstable mind.
"Right." Billie Joe managed to say, chocking back the tears and taking in what Mike had just said.
He knew he was being stupid, but he was so desperate. He wanted a miracle to happen, and he was willing to go to any measure to try and bring her back. Even if it meant doing the extraordinary for his character and go ahead and pray 24/7.
An awkward silence fell upon them once again.
"I know it's harsh Bill," Mike explained. "But she's not going to come back. I can't watch you hang onto hope that she'll come back, because she wont. I can't let you do that because it'll make things worse."
"Yeah." Billie grumbled sadly. "I know."
He hated admitting it, biting the inside to his cheek in anger and disappointment dropping at the pit of his stomach.
"I'm sorry I said that to you. I don't mean to hit you with it any harder."
"No, you're right Mike." Billie sighed, hurting again. "I was being stupid. Because she's never coming back. No matter what I try. Even if I do pray for the rest of my life, she's just... not gonna come back is she?"
He laughed at the last sentence, trying to laugh his stupidity off, when really he was crying inside and all he wanted to do was scream.
"Billie, don't be like that. I didn't mean it how you took it."
"Oh no, it's ok Mike. I didn't. I completely understand what you're trying to say."
Mike could tell he was being sarcastic and bitter towards him, but he wasn't going to argue. It wasn't what the suffering guitarist needed right now, and he also knew that he was the only person there to help him. He didn't want to spit fire and turn against him too.
"Well, only if you're sure."
"I'm sure." Billie Joe replied quickly.
Mike clicked his tongue against the root of his mouth.
"Ok. So what are you going to do now?"
"Dunno. Go for a walk maybe, try and clear my head."
"Well, are you sure you're going to be ok?"
"Yeah. If I decide to kill myself, then I'll let you know just before."
Mike clenched his together in torment, the last sentence scaring him again. Because that was exactly what he was afraid of.
Of waking up to find out that Billie Joe had killed himself.
"Well, I'm always here if you need anything yeah?"
"Don't say that." Billie told him.
"What?"
"That you'll always be here. That's what Stef told me."
Mike shockingly looked at the tiled floor to his kitchen as he leaned against the counter top.
"I... I'm sorry."
"She said she would always be here for me and she would always love me. But she lied to me. She's gone and I need her more than ever right now."
Mike pursed his lips as he listened closely to his friend's mumbling, trying not to let it get him down.
"She's still with you Billie. Even though she may not be alive, she's still watching over you. And I know she loved you more than anything in the world. And if she had the choice, I know she would be here, to keep that promise to you."
A tear fell down Billie Joe's face, who wiped it away quickly with his hand.
"Yeah. I hope so."
"Just, keep safe for me yeah? Promise me you will." Mike begged.
"Yeah... sure... " He grumbled as a reply, trying to hold his tears in again.
"Well, I'll probably call you later yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Ok then. Keep safe Billie Joe. Bye."
"... Bye."
Billie Joe closed his cell shut and with it resting on his leg, he just stared at the ground, the sunlight creeping up against his back as morning broke.
Slowly, as if in a trance, he pocketed his cell and leaned back against the bench, continuing to stare at the ground.
"Erm... excuse me?"
A shadow cast over the side of Billie as he slowly looked up to see a young girl staring down at him with excited eyes.
"Are you Billie Joe Armstrong from Green Day?"
He looked up at her with sad eyes.
"No."
She quirked an eyebrow at him, confused and slightly dumbfounded at what he was saying to her. She pointed a finger at him in protest to say something else but he spoke before her.
"I used to be." He sighed, looking ahead again, avoiding eye contact with her. "I'm not that guy anymore."
And then he got up from the bench and walked away, sliding his hands into his pockets and leaving her to watch him, trying to figure out what he had just said.
I'm just the shadow of the man I used to be,
And it seems like there's no way out of this for me.
I used to bring you sunshine,
Now all I ever do is bring you down.
How would it be if you were standing in my shoes?
Can't you see that it's impossible to choose?
No there's no making sense of it,
Every way I go I'm bound to lose.
Too much love will kill you.
Just as sure as none at all.
It'll drain the power that's in you,
Make you plead and scream and crawl.
And the pain will make you crazy,
You're the victim of your crime.
Too much love will kill you,
Every time.
