Welcome to Paradise // Billie Joe Armstrong // #Wattys2017

Brain Stew

I stare blankly at the ceiling above me, the sight of it being blurry due to the sleep that's making my eyes dull. It's a midnight hour and I'm contemplating the inevitability of death and its cruel unpredictability. And basically every other insecurity I have about the infinite universe in which I live.

Time is ticking away as slowly as every other sleepless night I've had, but this one in particular seems to last forever. The frantic thoughts that are fluttering through my mind are untamable and have been keeping me up all night, leaving me tossing and turning on a dirty matrass, lying underneath an even dirtier blanket. Alone.

Billie has decided upon sleeping in the bar itself, the room next to mine, with the argument it would be safer that way. So now here I lay, being suffocated by questions I don't have answers to, without anyone to answer them for me.

I sigh and roll a quarter turn. The position I'm in gives me the ability to glance inside the bar and I spot a glimpse of Billie, who is laying with his back turned towards me. Above him are three rows of shelves, packed with liquor and other alcoholic fluids enclosed in glass bottles.

Without overthinking the idea too much, I fling the blanket off of me and tip-toe into the other room, trying not to wake Billie up. I stop in my pace and look up at all the drinks in front of me, mindlessly grabbing the first bottle that comes into my sight; Southern Comfort, whiskey.

I horror at the idea of its taste, but linger for something to get me out of the emotional state of mind I'm in. As if I'm able to exchange my feelings with the whiskey's by drinking it; a thought that pleases me well right now.

I sit down at the bar, the half-empty glass in front of me. The liquid runs past my lips and leaves a burning sensation in my mouth. My questions increasingly become vaguer, more like unconscious thoughts tucked away in the back of my mind as more of the strong drink travels down my throat.

I finish the remaining whiskey that's been inhabiting the bottom of the glass in one glug, my eyes squinting shut by the flame igniting my body, causing my cheeks to burn in a cherry red color. Just as I'm about to pour in more, I hear a familiar voice behind me, making a smirk appear on my face.

"Moving onto the heavier stuff, I see" Billie chuckles as he takes place next to me, grabbing the whiskey and taking a swig from the bottle.

"Couldn't sleep" I reply, staring into my drink.

"Me neither" he sighs, slowly shaking his head.

"The vision?"

"Yeah."

I ponder what to say next, a momentum of silence filling the room. The seconds passing constantly remind me of the reply I haven't yet given and I hope the gears crunching in my mind don't sound as loud through the quiet as they do inside my head.

I shift on my stool, a little uncomfortable, my nails tracing figure eights in the damaged wood of the bar. The speed of my fingers increases as I think longer and harder up until a point Billie stops me by placing his hand on mine, looking at me steadfastly.

"It's alright. I don't know what to do either." He says, as if capable of reading my thoughts.

I nod slowly, relieved, and drink the rest of my whiskey. "It's probably just a matter of time before the next vision comes along. Until then, we gotta keep ourselves alive." I say, putting my empty glass down on the bar.

As I look over at Billie, I notice a sudden fear taking a hold of his eyes. He notices me staring, and quickly shrugs it off, sending me a smile. "Let's go try to get some sleep" he says, while getting of his barstool.

I get off of mine too, still a little puzzled about Billie's change of emotion, but he snaps me out of my thoughts, making my concern melt away by grabbing my hand. The electricity coursing through my veins must be enough to provide an entire neighborhood of light for a couple of days. And enough to make my body radiate with happiness.

"You can sleep with me tonight, if you want to" Billie assures me. My blood overflows with exhilaration as I send him a smile and lay myself down on the matrass. As Billie crawls in besides me, I can't help but sense an unnerving feeling. I decide to shrug it off.

After all, I'm in a zombie apocalypse. Morals and standards have long left anyway.

As if he's able to pick up my tenses again, Billie wraps his arms around me tightly, softly kissing my temple. "Relax, sweetie. Get some sleep" he whispers. A smile creeps onto my face as I doze off, my face deeply and safely tucked away in the folds of his arms.

What a shame he won't be there when I wake up again the next morning.

A/N  SHORT AND LAME CHAPTER, THAT TOOK WAY TOO LONG TO WRITE, I'M SORRY, I'VE BEEN BUSY. RATE, COMMENT, SHARE WHATEVER.

KISSES, NINA