Another kind of Idiot. (Sequel to Loser. Weirdo. Faggot.), chapter 5
He tapped out the beat on his shoes. Band practice had gone over without a doubt the best they'd ever played, considering Tre had played with them before. He was currently lounging next to Mike on an old flea-market couch, beer in hand. He was energized.
Bill looked over at Mike, who seemed to be in with the thought pattern of having his brains fucked out. Mike had a girlfriend. Of course that's what he was thinking about. After finally guessing what Mikey was fantasizing about, he turned his head over to Tre, who was staring wide-eyed at the TV.
Billie found himself staring at him admiringly. Tre noticed someone was looking at him. "Bill, you not getting a little too excited? Your face seems a little pinkish." Tre cocked his head at him, smiling, but looking a little concerned. Billie's hands fells to his face.
"Fuck." He thought to himself. His face was red. He was blushing. But at what? He felt his forehead. No fever. Why had he felt himself tense up all of a sudden? He tried to push it out of his mind. Tre was just Tre. Suddenly (at an attempt to get his mind off of it), an idea struck him. "Wanna go over to Gilman?" He said, jumping up from his seat. He had to have somewhere to burn off his excess energy.
Mike shook his head a little. He frowned. When Casey wasn't with him, his mind was with Casey. It was as black and white as that. "You say somthin, Bill?" Billie rolled his eyes.
"Gilman. Comon. Don't make me resort to fucking something to have a little fun." Mike grimaced. The mental picture had been enough for him. "Fine. Take me, oh wondrous leader." Billie grinned. He loved compliments.
The car ride, which was already usually pretty loud, was now booming with sound. Most of it was coming from Billie. He sat there, feet slung over onto the dashboard, talking at about a million miles a minute about anything his little head could spew out thinking. The band. Himself. His guitar. Random shit he would let out of his mouth so fast no one could understand what he was saying. Mike for once, wanted to get out of the car as fast as he could.
Surprisingly, when they arrived at Gilman, a show was just starting. It was a run of good luck. Gilman didn't lay nearly as many shows as they used to, even two years ago. Tre immediately went running towards the bar, and then, the girls. Billie hid a sinker from under his sleeve.
Mike, on the other hand, looked a little lost. Billie sighed to himself. "Jesus, Mikey!" He yelled over, grabbing his wrist. "Have some fun again." A small smile crept up on Mike's face. It had been forever since he partied with Billie.
* * *
The floor swirled beneath Billie. He felt sick, but in the good way, as he chugged down the last of his beer. The table he was leaning against was stationary, but it felt as if the entire Gilman house was put into a washing machine. He hiccupped, and smiled lazily.
Tre was sitting in the bar seat next to him. Grinning, talking, making wild hand gestures. His eyes glowed off happiness and content. It was then when it happened.
He saw himself start to slip out of reality, drunkenly pushing along. His stomach flipped over on him, and his vision blurred violently. Suddenly, he recalled a memory. Way back to when him and Tre were just small little idiots.
He wormed his way past all the people, dancing, drinking, fighting, over to the other boy. At that moment, he was sitting next to Mike Prichard on a barstool. "Hey, Bill!" Mike shouted, tipping his beer at him. "I thought I would never find you, man." He said hoarsely, happy that he found Mike.
Tre put a hand around Billie's shoulders. "Hey, my new friend here was just telling me how you play guitar." He gave him that goofy smile again. The one that Billie couldn't figure out. "Pretty damn good, right?" Tre laughed. He nodded his head.
Billie sat down beside them, hiking himself up on one of the barstools. "You guys met each other before?" Tre looked up from the bar peanuts he was trying to stack, and up at him. "Yeah, you could say that, Mikey." Tre put his arm around Billie again. "What the fuck?" He thought, but refrained from saying it.
"So," Tre asked curiously, turning around in his chair, "How high'd you get?" He seemed like he was trying to hide laughter. He turned to look at him. His grey blue eyes were sparkling.
Billie shook his head, snapping back to reality. It wasn't two years ago. It was now. 1990. Both him and Tre had grown up since then. Everyone had. They were adults now. But why then did Billie have the urge to be sixteen again?
Bill looked over at Mike, who seemed to be in with the thought pattern of having his brains fucked out. Mike had a girlfriend. Of course that's what he was thinking about. After finally guessing what Mikey was fantasizing about, he turned his head over to Tre, who was staring wide-eyed at the TV.
Billie found himself staring at him admiringly. Tre noticed someone was looking at him. "Bill, you not getting a little too excited? Your face seems a little pinkish." Tre cocked his head at him, smiling, but looking a little concerned. Billie's hands fells to his face.
"Fuck." He thought to himself. His face was red. He was blushing. But at what? He felt his forehead. No fever. Why had he felt himself tense up all of a sudden? He tried to push it out of his mind. Tre was just Tre. Suddenly (at an attempt to get his mind off of it), an idea struck him. "Wanna go over to Gilman?" He said, jumping up from his seat. He had to have somewhere to burn off his excess energy.
Mike shook his head a little. He frowned. When Casey wasn't with him, his mind was with Casey. It was as black and white as that. "You say somthin, Bill?" Billie rolled his eyes.
"Gilman. Comon. Don't make me resort to fucking something to have a little fun." Mike grimaced. The mental picture had been enough for him. "Fine. Take me, oh wondrous leader." Billie grinned. He loved compliments.
The car ride, which was already usually pretty loud, was now booming with sound. Most of it was coming from Billie. He sat there, feet slung over onto the dashboard, talking at about a million miles a minute about anything his little head could spew out thinking. The band. Himself. His guitar. Random shit he would let out of his mouth so fast no one could understand what he was saying. Mike for once, wanted to get out of the car as fast as he could.
Surprisingly, when they arrived at Gilman, a show was just starting. It was a run of good luck. Gilman didn't lay nearly as many shows as they used to, even two years ago. Tre immediately went running towards the bar, and then, the girls. Billie hid a sinker from under his sleeve.
Mike, on the other hand, looked a little lost. Billie sighed to himself. "Jesus, Mikey!" He yelled over, grabbing his wrist. "Have some fun again." A small smile crept up on Mike's face. It had been forever since he partied with Billie.
* * *
The floor swirled beneath Billie. He felt sick, but in the good way, as he chugged down the last of his beer. The table he was leaning against was stationary, but it felt as if the entire Gilman house was put into a washing machine. He hiccupped, and smiled lazily.
Tre was sitting in the bar seat next to him. Grinning, talking, making wild hand gestures. His eyes glowed off happiness and content. It was then when it happened.
He saw himself start to slip out of reality, drunkenly pushing along. His stomach flipped over on him, and his vision blurred violently. Suddenly, he recalled a memory. Way back to when him and Tre were just small little idiots.
He wormed his way past all the people, dancing, drinking, fighting, over to the other boy. At that moment, he was sitting next to Mike Prichard on a barstool. "Hey, Bill!" Mike shouted, tipping his beer at him. "I thought I would never find you, man." He said hoarsely, happy that he found Mike.
Tre put a hand around Billie's shoulders. "Hey, my new friend here was just telling me how you play guitar." He gave him that goofy smile again. The one that Billie couldn't figure out. "Pretty damn good, right?" Tre laughed. He nodded his head.
Billie sat down beside them, hiking himself up on one of the barstools. "You guys met each other before?" Tre looked up from the bar peanuts he was trying to stack, and up at him. "Yeah, you could say that, Mikey." Tre put his arm around Billie again. "What the fuck?" He thought, but refrained from saying it.
"So," Tre asked curiously, turning around in his chair, "How high'd you get?" He seemed like he was trying to hide laughter. He turned to look at him. His grey blue eyes were sparkling.
Billie shook his head, snapping back to reality. It wasn't two years ago. It was now. 1990. Both him and Tre had grown up since then. Everyone had. They were adults now. But why then did Billie have the urge to be sixteen again?
