{Billie Joe Armstrong} - Sex And Drugs And Rock'n'Roll

Chapter 47: Enough

"Alright, first question, how hard has it been to rebound?". Me and Mike and Tre sat on a couch together, being interviewed by a man named Fred Foreman. From the first second I saw him, he seemed sleazy. He seemed... off.

"Well, it's been easier than we expected." Mike answered. "And a lot of that is because of Lizzy.".

I smiled. The audience stayed silent.

"Alright. And Lizzy, is it hard to carry the band?" Foreman asked.

"It's alright, I guess. I wouldn't exactly call it hard." I replied. Weird question. I thought.

"Now, can you describe what your relationship with Billie was like?".

"It was love." I bluntly stated. "It really was.".

The audience laughed. I glared at them. I really was getting fed up with all of our stupid fans.

"What kind of love?" Foreman asked.

"What kind of love do you think!?" I snapped. "Now move on!".

"Okay, okay. Now, why do you always wear a lot of makeup? Like, I get that you want to look good, but you wear a lot." Foreman asked.

"Excuse me?" I said, leaning forward on the couch a bit.

"Why do you wear so much makeup? It makes you look like a slut."

The audience cheered. I stood up, raging.

"You know what! I've had enough of your shit! You actually think it's okay to ask me all these fucked up questions!?" I shouted at him."And you guys can fuck off and die for all I care!" I shouted to the audience. "Fuck all of you!".

I flipped them the middle finger and headed towards the door where I came in. The audience was still going crazy. I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. I didn't give a fuck anymore.

I looked down at my arms. There were a few scars from the deepest cuts I'd made just a month and a half ago.

I heard the door open. "Liz!" Tre said.

I turned around and faced him.

"Whoa! You told them!" he said.

"Damn right I did! Now let's get the fuck out of here and leave that fucking waste of human tissue." I replied.

"Alright..." Tre said slowly. We walked through the hallway and out into the parking lot.

I heard my phone buzz. I left it, though. It was probably someone tagging me on a video of me swearing and lashing out.

But I didn't care any more. I'd had enough.

***

I stood backstage looking myself over in the mirror. I was too thin and I knew it.

I went over and grabbed my Fender Strat. I reached up and played with the ring on my necklace. I wondered what Billie would've thought if he'f bern there the interview.

"You ready?" Mike asked me.

I turned around and smiled. "Fuck yeah." I said. I was fired up and ready to go. "I'm not putting up with shit from our stupid fans anymore.".

"Did something happen? You seem... I dunno, differnt. More fiesty." Mike told me.

"You know what, I'm just getting tired of people treating me so bad and I kind of hit my breaking point when that idiot asked me why I wore so much makeup today. I really don't care what people think anymore, and I'm going to show them.".

"Alright. Well, at least you're finally realizing that you still have a purpose.".

"And what's that?".

"To prove 'em wrong!".

I nodded. "Yeah.".

Tre came over to us and tapped his sticks together.

"Hey." Mike said to him.

"Hi Mikey." Tre replied.

The drunk bunny ran across the stage and revved everybody up. Then I walked out on stage and ran to the microphone.

"Alright motherfuckers, I hope you're ready to fucking rock!" I said. I got booed. "Oh, shut the fuck up! You know what, I might be a bitch but at least I know how to front a band!". More booing.

I looked back at Tre. He just shrugged.

"I'm not fucking listening to any of you idiots!" I yelled, then a bottle came and hit the stage right beside me. It didn't break, somehow.

I picked it up. "Fuck all of you!' I shouted, then I smashed the bottle against the microphone and the bottom shattered into hundreds of pieces. The edges were sharp. "You see this?".

I cut my arms with the bottle and the audience went crazy. "I'm not fucking afraid, you fucking idiots!" I shouted. Then I whipped the bottle off the stage. My arms were in pain and bleeding, but I didn't care.

I looked at Mike, then at Tre. "One, two, three, four!" I counted, and we started playing Welcome To Paradise.