The Innocent Can Never Last

Billie, You're A Star

Billie's POV

From the moment that I stepped out on stage and began strumming on Blue, I felt my nervousness begin to wash away. As I jumped in front of the microphone and played the opening chords of 'Disappearing Boy,' I smiled a bit as I watched the audience begin to loosen up and start bobbing their heads to the music. I couldn't believe that I had actually been that nervous. I turned to Mike and grinned devilishly at him, before turning back to the audience and belting out the words:

"Now you see me, now you don't,
Don't ask me where I'm at,
Because I'm a million miles away..."

The audience began to scream and carry on, and I suddenly felt like the king of the world. This was all I needed to keep me happy: my guitar and a crowd. I had forgotten how much I loved to perform over the past several months. Back in Rodeo, we had never really played for any big audiences like this, but we had played at different parties in people's basements and at a few school events; nothing major. In the months leading up to my suicide attempt, however, we hardly ever played anywhere, on account of the fact that I was usually too depressed or too tired to even want to get up in the morning, much less go play some stupid show in front of twenty people. And then our drummer, John, had left the band in order to 'further his education,' and we hadn't played a real live show until now. And it was heaven, really...

"Am I here or am I there?
Or am I playing on the stairs?
Am I in my room with my toys?
I am the disappearing boy..."

The chorus of the song poured out of me with so much passion that I swear the whole audience should have been able to feel it. I began to jump around a bit, as did Mike, as the crowd screamed louder and thrusting their fists in the air, some of them even jumping on each other's shoulders to get a better look at us. I glanced over to the side exit of the stage, and saw Emma, leaning coolly on the doorframe, a smile lighting up her beautiful little face. We made eye contact, and she winked at me, and gave me a cheesy grin, as well as the thumbs up sign. I winked back at her and turned to the crowd once again. I was half-tempted to do a stage dive just then, but I decided against it. Doing a stage-dive at your very first performance was probably a little risque, if you ask me.

By the end of 'Disappearing Boy,' the audience was screaming so loud that I could barely hear myself sing. I turned to Mike, and he grinned happily, as we both began playing the beginning of Emma's song, 'Rest.'

"Hey, can you hear me?
I'm calling your name,
Hello?
Is this good-bye?"

Emma's POV

It was as the boys started playing 'Rest' that I first felt it. Jealousy. It started out slow, but then it suddenly came on full-force. I had suddenly realized something; for the past eight or nine years of our lives, I had always been the only person that Billie was really, truly comfortable with. Whenever he had a problem, or he just flat-out needed a hug, or a word of reassurance, he came to me. For the longest time I had been the only one that he would sing his songs to, on account of how personal some of them were. Sometimes he would play them for Mike, but a lot of the time he would only play them for me; he knew I understood them. But now here he was, jumping around on a stage in front of a hundred or more people, belting out one of the most personal songs he had ever written.

What had happened? Was my little boy growing up on me? Did he still need me like he used to? Whether I wanted to admit it or not, living at that warehouse had changed him quite a bit. He had finally found people that accepted him for who he was, and he felt that he had somewhere to belong; as a result of that, he wasn't as resigned as he used to be. He still hadn't gotten over that suicide attempt, that was for sure, but he seemed to be doing a hell of a lot better here in Berkeley than he had been back home in Rodeo. With a little bit of real, motherly love and care, my quiet little Billie really might be alright.