American Idiot {On Hold}

I Don't Care

Andréa awoke the next morning with a pounding headache and no recollection of the night before. She groaned as the headache worsened and forced herself to get up. It was one o'clock in the afternoon. She dressed sloppily into the new clothes she bought the day before and headed over to Billie's house to ask if he had anything she could take to stop the headache and lessen the hangover.

She knocked on his door and steadied herself by holding the doorframe. She pulled up her top before the door opened.

"Andréa?" She looked up into the face of Saint Jimmy and nearly fell backwards.

"Shit, Saint Jimmy... Um, is Billie there?" He looked at her with an expression she couldn't read.

"Yeah, got a bit of a hangover though, were you with him last night?"

"I don't know," she paused for a second, "alright, I don't exactly remember..." Saint Jimmy huffed.

"Welcome to Suburbia, you'll fit right in, I said, and so you did, come on in, Billie's just lying on the sofa..." Andréa went in and peered round to find Billie lying with an ice pack on his head, closed eyes, and groaning faintly. "Billie..."

"What the fuck do you want you fucktard?" He asked hoarsely.

"Andréa's here, she wants to speak with you," Saint Jimmy said before disappearing up the spiral stairs.

"Hey," Andréa said quietly, walking up next to him and kneeling down so his face and hers were equal.

"Hey."

"Do you remember what happened last night? I can't..." She said sheepishly.

"Yeah, vaguely."

"What happened?"

"We danced, we got drunk," he paused for a second, "we kissed." She was taken aback by this statement and immediately felt guilty.

"Oh god, I am so sorry." He laughed.

"No need to be sorry, it was good. But, let's just not mention it to anyone."

"Yes, good plan," she said, nodding her head.

"Do you need something? For like, the hangover and stuff? You must have been pretty drunk if you can't remember anything, how on Earth did you manage to get over here?"

"I'm used to it," she said simply, "but something would be greatly appreciated." Billie pointed to the kitchen.

"One of the cabinets has like aspirin or something like that, help yourself..."

"Awesome, thanks," she got up slowly and carefully and began to search through the cupboards, and she began to search more quickly as the headache raged on through her head. She eventually found the pills and took them with a glass of water. "Mind if I hang out in here for a bit?"

"Yeah, sure, why not," Billie said from the sofa.

"Awesome..." Andréa walked back over to Billie and sat down on the sofa opposite him. "What did your brother say?"

"About what?"

"You being hungover and shit."

"It's happened a thousand times before, this time's no different."

"Will me getting hammered on my first night here affect my job chances?"

"Nah, he understands," Billie said, flopping his hand by his side. "If it's any consolation, he was drunk when the Jesus hired him." She nodded and looked down, a question was digging, clawing away in her mind and she was bursting to ask it.