Without You, chapter 3
Inside his mind, he analysed why his relationship with Jemma had failed more times than were countable. Like the scholar he wasn't, he dissected situations, pondered things he should've said and shouldn't have been caught doing. When it came to sex, why couldn't Jemma understand that just because he occasionally strayed from their bedroom didn't mean he didn't love her? Sex was like role-playing.
He never forced her to be monogamous but deep down he knew that if he found out she was fucking someone else it would have hurt. A lot! Even with that knowledge, he couldn't confine himself to only one woman.
He wanted to have his cake and eat it too. He tried being open with her but concluded that certain things should've remained secret. Sex was an ego addiction, similar to the one felt onstage. Different audiences, like different partners, were more challenging and made him work harder for the applause. Like drugs, he was addicted to the rush. Even with an empire at his disposal, money couldn't buy him love, nor happiness, nor peace of mind.
Nor Jemma.
Looking around the large living room, a very disenchanted artist absorbed the modern decor. None of these possessions except a few token items had ever meant anything to Billie Joe. None of this shit was real. He was surrounded by trophies of a game that had no meaning. And he was tired of playing games.
A sharp pain in his left ear sent him back to the dark corridor that led from stage to dressing room. Inside his ringing head, speakers feeding back ignited and exploded. He was experiencing another rock 'n' roll side effect, ear damage. The dull hum lasted only seconds but the memories of his final show with his former band, Green Day, would never fade.
For reasons he couldn't remember, Jemma had been unable to attend the tour's final show. The band had been on the road for the better part of fourteen months, over 285 concerts. Every few weeks Billie Joe had flown her to whatever city he was performing in and she'd stay for a few nights.
The final concert of any tour is an important night. It was Green Day's first headlining tour and Billie wanted to share the experience with her. It was the culmination of many miles travelled, many hours worked, and the celebration that went on afterward was well deserved. He called her several times to offer her plane tickets, trying to persuade her, but she couldn't make it.
The gig was well over two hours of electric ferocity. Of course Billie Joe consumed plenty of drugs and alcohol before and during the show (he did every gig), but it was the Florida crowd's enthusiasm and knowing that he'd be able to sleep for a month that gave him extra spark.
Every time he took a solo, he tried to best any previous soloing effort. Every time he approached his microphone to sing backups, his voice surged with whiskey vigour. For him, this was rock 'n' roll at its best. The 20,000-plus crowd acknowledged this with deafening applause. After the final encore, it was time to celebrate.
Billie Joe wound up with two eager females in his hotel room. In the privacy of his bathroom he injected a little heroin. Not enough to make him nod out but enough to get him good and high. The two nubile females would only make him feel better. After struggling to get his wet brown suede pants off, he joined the nude women, and thus the revelry began.
The dope clouded his not-so-good memory but Billie remembered a very drunk Tre Cool walking into the room. The band's drummer had mistaken Billie's room for his own. In the spirit of celebration, Billie offered him a girl. Tre declined saying he'd find his own and left. The menage-a-trois continued. Shortly afterward there was a knock on the door. Thinking it was Tre taking up the offer, Billie Joe called out, telling whoever was at the door to enter.
He never forced her to be monogamous but deep down he knew that if he found out she was fucking someone else it would have hurt. A lot! Even with that knowledge, he couldn't confine himself to only one woman.
He wanted to have his cake and eat it too. He tried being open with her but concluded that certain things should've remained secret. Sex was an ego addiction, similar to the one felt onstage. Different audiences, like different partners, were more challenging and made him work harder for the applause. Like drugs, he was addicted to the rush. Even with an empire at his disposal, money couldn't buy him love, nor happiness, nor peace of mind.
Nor Jemma.
Looking around the large living room, a very disenchanted artist absorbed the modern decor. None of these possessions except a few token items had ever meant anything to Billie Joe. None of this shit was real. He was surrounded by trophies of a game that had no meaning. And he was tired of playing games.
A sharp pain in his left ear sent him back to the dark corridor that led from stage to dressing room. Inside his ringing head, speakers feeding back ignited and exploded. He was experiencing another rock 'n' roll side effect, ear damage. The dull hum lasted only seconds but the memories of his final show with his former band, Green Day, would never fade.
For reasons he couldn't remember, Jemma had been unable to attend the tour's final show. The band had been on the road for the better part of fourteen months, over 285 concerts. Every few weeks Billie Joe had flown her to whatever city he was performing in and she'd stay for a few nights.
The final concert of any tour is an important night. It was Green Day's first headlining tour and Billie wanted to share the experience with her. It was the culmination of many miles travelled, many hours worked, and the celebration that went on afterward was well deserved. He called her several times to offer her plane tickets, trying to persuade her, but she couldn't make it.
The gig was well over two hours of electric ferocity. Of course Billie Joe consumed plenty of drugs and alcohol before and during the show (he did every gig), but it was the Florida crowd's enthusiasm and knowing that he'd be able to sleep for a month that gave him extra spark.
Every time he took a solo, he tried to best any previous soloing effort. Every time he approached his microphone to sing backups, his voice surged with whiskey vigour. For him, this was rock 'n' roll at its best. The 20,000-plus crowd acknowledged this with deafening applause. After the final encore, it was time to celebrate.
Billie Joe wound up with two eager females in his hotel room. In the privacy of his bathroom he injected a little heroin. Not enough to make him nod out but enough to get him good and high. The two nubile females would only make him feel better. After struggling to get his wet brown suede pants off, he joined the nude women, and thus the revelry began.
The dope clouded his not-so-good memory but Billie remembered a very drunk Tre Cool walking into the room. The band's drummer had mistaken Billie's room for his own. In the spirit of celebration, Billie offered him a girl. Tre declined saying he'd find his own and left. The menage-a-trois continued. Shortly afterward there was a knock on the door. Thinking it was Tre taking up the offer, Billie Joe called out, telling whoever was at the door to enter.
