Tré's POV (you knew this was coming)
So..... this has been a long time coming. Wanna gain a little bit of perspective of this pretty fucking depressing situation? It's been rough, I know. A lot of shit's gone down, so I'm not about to give you any more of that whiny crap. I'm just here to give you the complete, unabridged truth. That could be a killer show! The Complete Unabridged Truth ft. The Sexy Beast Known As Tré Fucking COOL. Think of the fans! Think of the free food!
Okay, I suppose I should start right? Where to begin? Let's see...how about when I walked in on Billie-boy and his boner canoodling on the couch?
"Hey! I brought some sodas and..." I shouted through the house as I usually do, walking into the living room. I wasn't really expecting to find one of my best friends, frozen in shock, on top of Annabel, whose face was perhaps the brightest shade of fuchsia I had seen since Mike lost his swimming shorts in the public pool next to his grandmother the summer before.
We all kinda took a second to asses the situation. Annabel was the first to move, squirming her way out from under Billie, who then collapsed onto his stomach, groaning as if I had just kicked him in the balls.
"Tré..."
"That's the name, now don't wear it out! So if you are both perfectly finished, which is a trick question because I know Billie can't keep it up for that long, let's practice!" I grinned at Billie, who had attempted to bury his face into the couch and was obviously waiting for his pants to loosen a tad. I would never let him live this down for as long as he lived.
I did feel a twinge of empathy for Annabel though, so I shot her a wink and waved her over to help put down all the food I had brought in the kitchen.
"So what happened last night?" I asked in a quieter tone once we were alone. I remembered her hand on my shoulder in Gilman the evening before, eyes wide and screaming over the music for Billie. It had spooked me a bit, if I have to be honest.
She sighed.
"Ritalin. He was drugged up."
I felt my chest tighten a bit, closing my eyes to all the memories I had of him like that. Snarling, spitting, crying. I shook it out of my head.
"Shit. What an asshole." We both heard the melancholy in my tone.
"He's okay now though."
"As I saw." I smirked, opening a soda and grabbing a bag of chips to bring out to our problem boy. Her face was beginning to redden again, so I just gave her a nudge to let her know it wasn't really a big deal, that I had walked in on Billie many times and I would continue to in the future, and we both headed back out.
Billie was up, bringing out amps and microphones. I handed him the food and he shot me a scowl which turned into a smile and I gave his hair a bit of a scruff before settling down behind my babies, my drums.
There's a thing about playing an instrument that a lot of people don't understand unless they really live for music. When you're playing something and its something you really love, and you don't feel heavy and you're arms don't feel awkward...man it's bliss. It's like you're riding a wavelength different to anything else. And drums, fuck I would go mad without them.
I took a minute or two just to hammer out a few beats, feeling my joints loosen up a bit and my head begin to feel the vibrations and rhythms. Billie was beginning to tune up Blue, and I watched his face, which a few moments ago was identical to any hormone-crazed teen, settle into something way too serious and way too thoughtful for a fuckwit like him. See, that's music for you; turns you all sensitive and shit.
"Jesus, has anyone got any food? I was high all night with mad cravings."
"Mikey baby!"
The last third of our trifecta waltzed in, looking very hungover but buzzing with that energy that Mike only has. He said hi to Annabel, whacked Billie over the head and picked up his bass. His knobbly, long fingers became nimble, strolling over the strings, his shaggy hair bouncing as his head kept in time. Annabel plopped herself in the centre of the couch, a crazy-wide grin on her face and excitement radiating off of her.
"Alright, let's see if your playing matches up to the rumours."
Mike scoffed and I stuck my tongue out her, but Billie seemed legitimately nervous as he came up to the microphone. But, just like always, something happens to him as he speaks into that mic, something clouds over his face and he knows he's performing, whether it be for 100 or for 1.
"Hey, we're Green Day motherfuckers, and this is called "409 in Your Coffeemaker"."
And so it began. We played a few more songs, all of us trying to avoid looking at our one audience member but somewhat failing. We wanted to impress her, that was obviously apparent. And Billie, he was singing like I had only heard him a few times. He was hard and rough when he was supposed to be, and he was soft and quiet when he needed to be. He played perfectly.
"Now...this is kinda a new one. Um...Mike and Tré don't know it...so I'll just...um...play it a bit myself. Okay."
He didn't look at us as he began to strum.
"It's called "Going to Pasalacqua"."
He watched Annabel who watched him, and we both watched him and then looked at each other, needless to say a bit stunned. It was a nice song, but it was the lyrics, the blatantness of it. It was a love song. He hadn't written one of those for a long time.
....Would it last forever?
You and I together, hand in hand
We run away
I'm in for nasty weather
But I'll take whatever you can
give that comes my way....
He finished, and the room was plunged into silence. I, as always, broke it.
"THAT WAS FUCKING GREAT!" I shrieked like the fangirl I knew he needed and pulled him into a hug. He was bright red again, and was eyeing Annabel nervously. She looked at him for a bit, then smiled. Her eyes seemed to be talking to him in a way only they could understand.
"Yeah. Green Day....I think you've got something there."
......
A/N thanks for reading!
