Takin' Back What's Mine (A Billie Joe Story...), chapter 3
He stopped suddenly and glanced up at me quickly before looking back down.
"I...I...We...Emma...me...it...no...yes...maybe...gotta...outta...my..." I said, and stood up. I started pacing the room until I reached a corner where I saw a spider, when I shrieked and stepped away quickly. I was looking around the room and scratching at my arms, but the one place I couldn't look was at Billie Joe.
***Billie's POV***
I just sat there, watching her pace. I noticed that she couldn't look at me and I just watched her pace. I sniffed and stood up. "I'm...I'm gonna take off," I mumbled, and she looked at me finally. I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen that were lying on the coffee table and scribbled down my cell number. "Here, this is my number. Um, call me when you get a new guitarist." I hesitated and then put it in her hand.
"Bill, I..." she started.
"No, it's ok. I get it," I cut her off, and I left the room. She followed me to the door as I pulled on my shoes and made a quick exit. I got into my BMW and drove back to Mike's house. When I got there I ran up to the front door and pounded on the door, remembering that I didn't bring my keys. I pounded for about five minutes before Mike finally came to the door. He was rubbing his eyes and yawning as I went inside.
"Billie? What's up? Aren't you supposed to be at Sebi's house?" he said.
"I fucked it up," I muttered, "I fucked up again." He closed the door behind me and pulled me into a hug. I rested my head on his shoulder and a tear fell from my eye.
"What happened?"
"I told her I wanted to move in with her," I mumbled, "And then that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her."
"Bill, you've known her for two days."
"I fucking know, alright?" I yelled, and stormed up the stairs to my room. I slammed the door and dropped onto my bed, where I stayed for about four days.
***Sebi's POV***
He left me alone, in my apartment, and I sat down on the couch. Then I stood up again, finding myself unable to sit there, and went into my own bedroom. I sniffed and started taking down all the posters of Green Day I had up, because I couldn't look at his face. I put all of the posters into my closet and then I lay down on my bed, and stayed there for about four days.
October 15, 2006
I picked up my phone when it rang and looked at the Caller ID. Emma. I answered it quietly. "Hello?"
"Seb? What's wrong?" Emma said.
"I...I..."
"I'm coming over," she snapped, and hung up. I dropped my phone back on the floor and sat back in my bed, hugging my favourite stuffed animal, a koala named Jane. Emma got there about ten minutes later, and she came immediately into my bedroom and sat on the bed beside me. "What happened, honey?" she asked, and wrapped her arms around me.
"He...he told me he wanted to move in," I mumbled, "And then he told me he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me."
"What's wrong with that? An uber-sexy guy, who just so happens to be in an amazing band, wants to spend the rest of his life with you?" she grinned, "What more could you ever want?"
"We'd known each other for two fucking days, Em," I muttered.
"So you've been moping around here for four days and you haven't called me?" she said. I nodded.
"Pretty much," I mumbled.
"So you feel the same way?"
"What?" I sat up, staring at her disbelievingly.
"Well you only knew him for two days. That's pretty much a one-night stand. And you're acting like you've been with him for at least two months," she pointed out.
"Em, come on," I said, standing up, "I'm looking for sympathy, not a fucking psych analysis."
"Hey, I'm just trying to get you to be happy again. Matt and I can't sing, and you can't have a fucking two-person band. We need you."
"We need a guitarist. We won't be doing anything till then anyway," I spat.
"We've got one. He can't sing either. We fucking need you," she yelled.
"Get outta my house," I finally said, and watched her go. Then I got in the shower to try and figure out what the fuck I should be doing.
***Billie's POV***
Mike came in and sat on my bed. "Billie, we need to practise," he said.
"Mike, I'm having a hard time here," I replied, "Maybe I don't want to practise."
"Whether you want to or not, we have to!" Mike yelled.
"Fuck off!" He left, slamming the door behind him, and I returned to my seat on my bed. Suddenly my phone rang and I jumped at it, looking at the Caller ID. Private number. I answered it. "Hello?"
"Hey Billie," a woman's voice said. She sounded muffled. "It's...it's Sebi. We've got a guitarist."
"Oh. Hey," I said, "So d'you want me to...uh, set up like a meeting or something?"
"Yes please," she murmured quietly, "Call me when you get one."
"I need your number," I commented.
"Oh, right," she said, and I wrote down the numbers as she said them. "So I'll...talk to you later, I guess."
"Yea, bye," I mumbled, and hung up. I set up the meeting and called Sebi back, thinking that it was just as awkward, if not more, than it had been earlier.
October 17, 2006
***Sebi's POV***
I'd gotten my hair cut yesterday, and I'd spiked it into a faux hawk this morning when I made my way to Adeline and went inside to find Emma, Matt, and the new guy standing in the lobby, trying to get a woman to let them in.
"Ah, the old hair is back," Matt grinned, "Sebi, this is John, he's the new guy. John, this is the girl who makes everything happen. This is Sebi."
"Hey," I said, and shook his hand, looking at the ground. "Um, we're here to meet Billie Joe Armstrong," I told the woman, "I'm Sabrina Waldron."
"Oh, alright, this way please," she mumbled, "I'm Adrienne, by the way."
"Adrienne, as in, Nesser?" I asked.
"Yea, why?"
"Billie just told me about you," I smiled weakly.
"Oh, you know Billie?" she asked, smiling.
"Uh...yea," I nodded as we stepped into a meeting room, where Billie was sitting at a table with a guy.
"Um, this is James Fletcher," Billie said, looking pointedly anywhere but at me, "He'll be your agent."
"Dad!" a boy's voice shrieked, and two little streaks came in and jumped onto Billie's lap.
"Hey guys," he smiled, ruffling their hair.
My eyes widened and I stepped back. Matt put a hand on my shoulder and Emma took my hand, but I shook my head and spun around, and left.
***Billie's POV***
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sebi leave, and I wondered why. But I couldn't go after her. "Sorry, we can't have a meeting without Sebi," Matt said, "She's the leader. I'll be right back." He ran out of the room.
"What just happened?" I asked, looking at Emma as the boys left again with Adie.
She looked at her feet. "Sabrina was pregnant about five years ago."
"And...?"
"She miscarried about four months in," Emma said, still looking at her feet, "She's never been quite the same since."
I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out, and besides, Matt had just walked in with is arm around Sebi's shoulders, obviously still trying to get her to calm down. She wasn't crying. It seemed more like she was just pissed.
"Thank God you came back," James said, "I don't have any time for another two months to meet with you guys."
"Oh, yes, let's thank God, shall we?" Sebi muttered sarcastically, "For everything he's ever done for me. The good and amazing God, who left me at my parents' doorstep and hasn't looked at me since."
James cleared his throat and everyone sat down to get on with the meeting.
***Sebi's POV***
So we were gonna have to do a demo, but a low-budget one, so we were just gonna do some shots from our gigs. We were playing at a club in Berkeley a few months later, and that's when we were gonna film.
January 20, 2007
Billie Joe kept showing up for this crap for some reason, James told me it was because he was the senior agent. The film crew wanted to do a few shots of us before we went onstage, you know, dealing with nerves and everything.
"Just act natural," they told us, and we tried, really we did. I stood in front of the mirror for about ten minutes, spiking my hair, and then I got out my black eyeliner and blue eye shadow to compliment my eyes. I cracked my neck a few times and flicked my lighter on and off (no, I didn't smoke, I just carried a lighter around because...well because I'm pyro.).
By the time it was time for us to go on, I was really good and pissed at the cameras. We started, with none of us onstage, when John started the intro to one of our songs. He stepped onstage and there were screams, and then Emma and Matt stepped on, Matt playing the bass line, and Emma starting up the drum line next. Finally I started singing, and then I came out, hearing the many cheers of the full club.
When we were done, we went off again and they wanted more shots of us. So we were once again told to act natural, and in keeping with that, Matt and Emma started making out off in a corner as I closed the door to the change room so I could get out of my sweaty clothes. I pulled up the collar of my blue dress shirt, buttoning only a couple of the buttons, and then pulled on my black cargos, buckled my belt, and put on my fedora. I opened the door to the change room again and stepped out, not looking at the camera that was right there.
Billie staggered up to me, drunk, I could tell, and pushed me up against a wall, holding me there and removing my fedora. He put it on his own head at an absurdly rakish angle and grinned, apparently seductively. "Come back to my place," he murmured, "We could make some very sweet love."
"Unfortunately, Billie," I said, pushing myself off the wall and taking my hat back, "We are not us anymore." He looked lost as I walked away, planning on going back to my car and going home, but I was stopped by the camera that was being shoved in my face.
"We're not quite done yet," the guy behind the camera said.
"Yes we are," I said, "You wanna bug someone, John's right there, and Emma and Matt are making out over there. I gotta go." I left the venue, this time without anyone stopping me, and got in my car, about to drive away when Billie stumbled out and over to my car.
"Can you...gimme a ride?" he mumbled quietly, tracing the windowsill, "I'm drunk and I don' wanna drive home."
"Fine," I sighed, and he smiled and got in the passenger side. "How do we get to Mike's house?"
"I...dunno," he slurred, thinking really hard about it, scratching his head and everything, his face screwed up into a look of intense concentration. "I don' remember."
"Whatever," I muttered, "You can sleep at my house. But tomorrow you're coming back here for your car."
"Ok," he nodded, and put a hand to his head. "Ow."
"Yea, ow is right," I murmured, "You'll be saying ow a lot tomorrow."
He directed his amazing innocent smile my way and said, "Maybe I will. But I won't."
"Why not?"
"B'cuz you'll be there," he smiled.
"Amazing how fucking innocent you can be when you're trashed," I commented, "Simply amazing." He didn't answer; he was looking at the road in front of us like he wanted it to kiss him.
I helped him out of the car when we got to my house, and was about to take him inside when he stumbled and started puking violently into the bushes. "Oh, pleasant, Billie, just beautiful," I muttered as he let me pull one of his arms around me neck so I could get him upstairs. Silently I was cursing the building for not having an elevator, and also cursing myself for even giving him a ride home. We got to my apartment and I helped him sit on the couch. Apparently he wasn't quite drunk enough that he was just gonna pass out. He wanted to talk.
"Seb...you know...y'know," he slurred, "You know...tha' I luv ya, righ'?"
"I...I...We...Emma...me...it...no...yes...maybe...gotta...outta...my..." I said, and stood up. I started pacing the room until I reached a corner where I saw a spider, when I shrieked and stepped away quickly. I was looking around the room and scratching at my arms, but the one place I couldn't look was at Billie Joe.
***Billie's POV***
I just sat there, watching her pace. I noticed that she couldn't look at me and I just watched her pace. I sniffed and stood up. "I'm...I'm gonna take off," I mumbled, and she looked at me finally. I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen that were lying on the coffee table and scribbled down my cell number. "Here, this is my number. Um, call me when you get a new guitarist." I hesitated and then put it in her hand.
"Bill, I..." she started.
"No, it's ok. I get it," I cut her off, and I left the room. She followed me to the door as I pulled on my shoes and made a quick exit. I got into my BMW and drove back to Mike's house. When I got there I ran up to the front door and pounded on the door, remembering that I didn't bring my keys. I pounded for about five minutes before Mike finally came to the door. He was rubbing his eyes and yawning as I went inside.
"Billie? What's up? Aren't you supposed to be at Sebi's house?" he said.
"I fucked it up," I muttered, "I fucked up again." He closed the door behind me and pulled me into a hug. I rested my head on his shoulder and a tear fell from my eye.
"What happened?"
"I told her I wanted to move in with her," I mumbled, "And then that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her."
"Bill, you've known her for two days."
"I fucking know, alright?" I yelled, and stormed up the stairs to my room. I slammed the door and dropped onto my bed, where I stayed for about four days.
***Sebi's POV***
He left me alone, in my apartment, and I sat down on the couch. Then I stood up again, finding myself unable to sit there, and went into my own bedroom. I sniffed and started taking down all the posters of Green Day I had up, because I couldn't look at his face. I put all of the posters into my closet and then I lay down on my bed, and stayed there for about four days.
October 15, 2006
I picked up my phone when it rang and looked at the Caller ID. Emma. I answered it quietly. "Hello?"
"Seb? What's wrong?" Emma said.
"I...I..."
"I'm coming over," she snapped, and hung up. I dropped my phone back on the floor and sat back in my bed, hugging my favourite stuffed animal, a koala named Jane. Emma got there about ten minutes later, and she came immediately into my bedroom and sat on the bed beside me. "What happened, honey?" she asked, and wrapped her arms around me.
"He...he told me he wanted to move in," I mumbled, "And then he told me he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me."
"What's wrong with that? An uber-sexy guy, who just so happens to be in an amazing band, wants to spend the rest of his life with you?" she grinned, "What more could you ever want?"
"We'd known each other for two fucking days, Em," I muttered.
"So you've been moping around here for four days and you haven't called me?" she said. I nodded.
"Pretty much," I mumbled.
"So you feel the same way?"
"What?" I sat up, staring at her disbelievingly.
"Well you only knew him for two days. That's pretty much a one-night stand. And you're acting like you've been with him for at least two months," she pointed out.
"Em, come on," I said, standing up, "I'm looking for sympathy, not a fucking psych analysis."
"Hey, I'm just trying to get you to be happy again. Matt and I can't sing, and you can't have a fucking two-person band. We need you."
"We need a guitarist. We won't be doing anything till then anyway," I spat.
"We've got one. He can't sing either. We fucking need you," she yelled.
"Get outta my house," I finally said, and watched her go. Then I got in the shower to try and figure out what the fuck I should be doing.
***Billie's POV***
Mike came in and sat on my bed. "Billie, we need to practise," he said.
"Mike, I'm having a hard time here," I replied, "Maybe I don't want to practise."
"Whether you want to or not, we have to!" Mike yelled.
"Fuck off!" He left, slamming the door behind him, and I returned to my seat on my bed. Suddenly my phone rang and I jumped at it, looking at the Caller ID. Private number. I answered it. "Hello?"
"Hey Billie," a woman's voice said. She sounded muffled. "It's...it's Sebi. We've got a guitarist."
"Oh. Hey," I said, "So d'you want me to...uh, set up like a meeting or something?"
"Yes please," she murmured quietly, "Call me when you get one."
"I need your number," I commented.
"Oh, right," she said, and I wrote down the numbers as she said them. "So I'll...talk to you later, I guess."
"Yea, bye," I mumbled, and hung up. I set up the meeting and called Sebi back, thinking that it was just as awkward, if not more, than it had been earlier.
October 17, 2006
***Sebi's POV***
I'd gotten my hair cut yesterday, and I'd spiked it into a faux hawk this morning when I made my way to Adeline and went inside to find Emma, Matt, and the new guy standing in the lobby, trying to get a woman to let them in.
"Ah, the old hair is back," Matt grinned, "Sebi, this is John, he's the new guy. John, this is the girl who makes everything happen. This is Sebi."
"Hey," I said, and shook his hand, looking at the ground. "Um, we're here to meet Billie Joe Armstrong," I told the woman, "I'm Sabrina Waldron."
"Oh, alright, this way please," she mumbled, "I'm Adrienne, by the way."
"Adrienne, as in, Nesser?" I asked.
"Yea, why?"
"Billie just told me about you," I smiled weakly.
"Oh, you know Billie?" she asked, smiling.
"Uh...yea," I nodded as we stepped into a meeting room, where Billie was sitting at a table with a guy.
"Um, this is James Fletcher," Billie said, looking pointedly anywhere but at me, "He'll be your agent."
"Dad!" a boy's voice shrieked, and two little streaks came in and jumped onto Billie's lap.
"Hey guys," he smiled, ruffling their hair.
My eyes widened and I stepped back. Matt put a hand on my shoulder and Emma took my hand, but I shook my head and spun around, and left.
***Billie's POV***
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sebi leave, and I wondered why. But I couldn't go after her. "Sorry, we can't have a meeting without Sebi," Matt said, "She's the leader. I'll be right back." He ran out of the room.
"What just happened?" I asked, looking at Emma as the boys left again with Adie.
She looked at her feet. "Sabrina was pregnant about five years ago."
"And...?"
"She miscarried about four months in," Emma said, still looking at her feet, "She's never been quite the same since."
I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out, and besides, Matt had just walked in with is arm around Sebi's shoulders, obviously still trying to get her to calm down. She wasn't crying. It seemed more like she was just pissed.
"Thank God you came back," James said, "I don't have any time for another two months to meet with you guys."
"Oh, yes, let's thank God, shall we?" Sebi muttered sarcastically, "For everything he's ever done for me. The good and amazing God, who left me at my parents' doorstep and hasn't looked at me since."
James cleared his throat and everyone sat down to get on with the meeting.
***Sebi's POV***
So we were gonna have to do a demo, but a low-budget one, so we were just gonna do some shots from our gigs. We were playing at a club in Berkeley a few months later, and that's when we were gonna film.
January 20, 2007
Billie Joe kept showing up for this crap for some reason, James told me it was because he was the senior agent. The film crew wanted to do a few shots of us before we went onstage, you know, dealing with nerves and everything.
"Just act natural," they told us, and we tried, really we did. I stood in front of the mirror for about ten minutes, spiking my hair, and then I got out my black eyeliner and blue eye shadow to compliment my eyes. I cracked my neck a few times and flicked my lighter on and off (no, I didn't smoke, I just carried a lighter around because...well because I'm pyro.).
By the time it was time for us to go on, I was really good and pissed at the cameras. We started, with none of us onstage, when John started the intro to one of our songs. He stepped onstage and there were screams, and then Emma and Matt stepped on, Matt playing the bass line, and Emma starting up the drum line next. Finally I started singing, and then I came out, hearing the many cheers of the full club.
When we were done, we went off again and they wanted more shots of us. So we were once again told to act natural, and in keeping with that, Matt and Emma started making out off in a corner as I closed the door to the change room so I could get out of my sweaty clothes. I pulled up the collar of my blue dress shirt, buttoning only a couple of the buttons, and then pulled on my black cargos, buckled my belt, and put on my fedora. I opened the door to the change room again and stepped out, not looking at the camera that was right there.
Billie staggered up to me, drunk, I could tell, and pushed me up against a wall, holding me there and removing my fedora. He put it on his own head at an absurdly rakish angle and grinned, apparently seductively. "Come back to my place," he murmured, "We could make some very sweet love."
"Unfortunately, Billie," I said, pushing myself off the wall and taking my hat back, "We are not us anymore." He looked lost as I walked away, planning on going back to my car and going home, but I was stopped by the camera that was being shoved in my face.
"We're not quite done yet," the guy behind the camera said.
"Yes we are," I said, "You wanna bug someone, John's right there, and Emma and Matt are making out over there. I gotta go." I left the venue, this time without anyone stopping me, and got in my car, about to drive away when Billie stumbled out and over to my car.
"Can you...gimme a ride?" he mumbled quietly, tracing the windowsill, "I'm drunk and I don' wanna drive home."
"Fine," I sighed, and he smiled and got in the passenger side. "How do we get to Mike's house?"
"I...dunno," he slurred, thinking really hard about it, scratching his head and everything, his face screwed up into a look of intense concentration. "I don' remember."
"Whatever," I muttered, "You can sleep at my house. But tomorrow you're coming back here for your car."
"Ok," he nodded, and put a hand to his head. "Ow."
"Yea, ow is right," I murmured, "You'll be saying ow a lot tomorrow."
He directed his amazing innocent smile my way and said, "Maybe I will. But I won't."
"Why not?"
"B'cuz you'll be there," he smiled.
"Amazing how fucking innocent you can be when you're trashed," I commented, "Simply amazing." He didn't answer; he was looking at the road in front of us like he wanted it to kiss him.
I helped him out of the car when we got to my house, and was about to take him inside when he stumbled and started puking violently into the bushes. "Oh, pleasant, Billie, just beautiful," I muttered as he let me pull one of his arms around me neck so I could get him upstairs. Silently I was cursing the building for not having an elevator, and also cursing myself for even giving him a ride home. We got to my apartment and I helped him sit on the couch. Apparently he wasn't quite drunk enough that he was just gonna pass out. He wanted to talk.
"Seb...you know...y'know," he slurred, "You know...tha' I luv ya, righ'?"
