Tragedy(Billie Joe Armstrong) (#Wattys2018)

Chapter 15: Songs

Bandit's POV

Pounding in my skull. A bomb incessantly exploding in my brain. The most annoying thing to deal with. A hangover. I'm going back to sleep then.

I moved a little to get comfortable again. Wait... that's not a pillow. I lifted my head and opened my eyes. I let my vision clear and saw Billie. "Billie Joe," I said in my tired and sick voice. "Billie Joe!"

"What?" He yawned.

"What the hell happened?" I asked.

"You got hammered and you were crazy," he said.

"Good to know, what'd I do?" I continued.

"Almost fucked Jake, you were a bitch, I got you out of there, we ate ice cream, and then you were weird," he explained.

"How weird?" I asked.

"I think you falling asleep on me explains it all," he laughed slightly.

"Does, now I'm going back to bed," I said and turned over. I need to not get that drunk at a party. Something could've happened with Jake if it weren't for Billie. Something could've happened with Billie...

~

I woke up way later in the day. My stepdad is gonna shoot me when I get home. If I go home. I have to but I don't want to. I sat up and walked over to the dresser. I look horrible. Horrible is an understatement.

I combed my hair out with my fingers the best I could. I took off my alcohol smelling clothes and put on one of Billie's sweatshirts and a pair of baggy shorts. It's sad when a boys athletic shorts fit you near perfectly. Billie is short though.

I walked out of his room and I saw him sitting on the couch playing guitar. That guitar describes him perfectly. Covered in band stickers, rough around the edges, but totally amazing.

"Morning sunshine," he looked up at me.

"What time is it?" I yawned.

"Three, I woke up at one," he told me. "Oh and you may want this," he tossed me a bottle of Tylenol.

"Thanks," I said then took two.

"We actually have food today! We can have dinner later," he said.

"Nice, my stepdad is going to murder me," I said.

"I think he'd do that without reason," he pointed out.

"True," I nodded. "You writing anything?"

"Yes," He said slowly as he grabbed his notebook and held it.

"Oh so I can't read it! I'm offended," I put my hand on my chest.

"Here," he sighed, "don't read anything else though!"

"Okay, I'll just read this page, jeez!" I said even though I understand why he wouldn't want people to read his stuff.

I sit in the state of a daydream
With all of your words flying over my head
Even more time gets wasted
In a daze
It should seem obvious to you
Your screams and cries are never going to work
And all of your time gets wasted
In my daze

I read through the scribbles and guitar chords. "I like that," I smiled handing him the book back.

"Thanks," He said and shut the notebook. "Why are you wearing my clothes?"

"Because mine are horrible," I replied. "Oh and can I spend another night?"

"Of course," he nodded.

"You're the best," I let out a sigh of relief, "I don't wanna go home!"

"Anytime you need to you can come over," he said.

"Before my parents are home though, wanna go get my guitars with me so I don't have to sit here staring longingly at that guitar," I said.

"Yeah, you could just ask to play y'know," he added.

"I know but you're writing and I know how annoying it is when you have to write something down and see how it sounds," I nodded.

"Wait, you write music?" He asked.

"No..." my voice trailed off.

"Lies!" He jumped up.

"Noooo!" I said and curled up into a ball.

"You do!" He jumped on me.

"I don't!" I kept denying it.

"You do! You're a horrible liar!" He said now sitting on top of me.

"Fine! I do okay?" I looked at him.

"Are they any good is the question?" He asked.

"I'll show you one if you get off!" I yelled.

"Okay," he rolled onto the floor.

"Thank you," I stood up and stretched.

"When we go to your house can you fix the um," he pointed under his eyes. My eyeliner from last night was probably messed up.

"Yeah, I'll change my clothes too," I nodded.

"You can wear those, you look comfy," he shrugged.

"I am!" I said and put the hood up.

"Ready?" He asked.

"Yeah," I nodded and put on my sneakers.

"Want me to drive so we don't have to carry the guitars?" He asked.

"Would make life easier," I nodded.

We drove two blocks to my house. No one was home! Thank the lord. I unlocked the door and still checked the surroundings.

"You act like a spy," he laughed.

"We're in hostile territory here," I said walking in. We went upstairs and I grabbed the two guitar cases. "You have a turntable right?" I asked.

"Of course," he said.

"I'm going to trust you have good music," I looked at him.

"We have a similar collection," he told me.

"Okay good," I said. I walked into the bathroom and washed my face the brushed my teeth. I brushed my hair out and put it in a braid then we left. Let's hope John doesn't figure out where I am.