nostalgia and cigarettes
title: Nostalgia and Cigarettes[Part 12/?]
author: Sharmel
pairing: Tre/Billie, Billie/Surprise
rating: R
summary: "I need you more than ever now. I can’t do this alone."
previous parts: Here
1998 continued.
Billie
The rest of the tour went by painfully slow. Every night, my mind wandered and thought about the night at Arkansas with Blue Eyes. I thought about burning the crumpled piece of paper that Blue Eyes left me or at the very least throwing it away for my conscience’s sake. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I couldn’t even bring myself to unfold the damned paper and find out his actual name. All in all, my mind was degrading. And I wasn’t the only one suffering.
My marriage with Adrienne was slowly crumbling apart. We used to call each other frequently, or she’d come down and visit me often just like from our previous tours. She didn’t do that for this tour, but that was because I never asked. I never gave her the go signal. In fact, I barely talked to her. I was a lousy husband. I didn’t even have the balls to tell her the truth. Hell, I didn’t even have the balls to fucking lie about it. Instead, the phone calls were brief, stiff, and awkward. The I love you’s we shared over the phone were forced, at least, I was convinced they were.
But we clung to the very last strands out love had to offer. She was pregnant. And thank god the tour was over a month before he was due. If I wasn’t there when she gave birth, our marriage would’ve been done in a heartbeat. Honestly, I believed it was her pregnancy that kept us together. Despite that fact, we were drifting away from each other.
Not only was I holding out my wife, I was also isolating myself from the guys. My mind was always daydream, and I often found myself in my own little trance whenever I was around people. I wasn’t interested with their stories or their life news anymore. I didn’t feel like talking to them. I didn’t feel like doing anything really, except for drink. That was all I wanted and needed. Alcohol.
Mike knew about my adventure with Blue Eyes, but after I confessed to him that day, I never opened the floor with that discussion. But believe me, Mike did try to get more out of me. I just darted my eyes away, kept my mouth shut, and waited for him to give up. Eventually, he did.
And as for Tre? He didn’t say anything. Tre’s not stupid, he knew I did something regretful. I knew he did, his eyes said it all. But he didn’t utter a word to me. We usually conversed through eye contact. Even then, he usually avoided it. I didn’t blame him.
Finally, the tour was over, and I was back with Adrienne. I pretended that everything was fine. And it worked for a few days. But then my efforts to keep happy and normal slowly dissolved, and we were back to the stiff conversations and lack of affection. Right after Jakob was born, the tension between us was so fucking thick that I could slice it with a fucking axe.
Our patience with each other grew thin, in fact, there were some days we couldn’t stand each other. She easily got annoyed with me whether I forgot to clean the dishes or forgot to turn the television set off. She especially got upset when I went to the bar for a few drinks. That woman interrogated me worst than my own goddamn mother when she first found me stoned out of my mind.
Of course, paranoid as I was, my answers were sharp and guarded. Eventually, she figured out I was hiding something. One night, I stumbled into our house - drunk as hell - and found Adrienne sitting in the living room with Jakob cradled in her arms. Tired circles were under her eyes and her hair was wilder than wild.
At first, she seemed as if she didn’t notice me. Boy was I fucking wrong. When she finally glanced up, her eyes shot daggers at me - and I swear to god that if she didn’t have Jakob in her arms, I’d be a dead man. I was too drunk to notice or perhaps, I was too drunk to care though, so I walked up to her and placed a sloppy kiss on her cheek. And ouch, what a mistake that was. She slapped me across the face. How she managed to keep Jakob asleep remained a mystery to me.
“Why’d you come home so late, Billie Joe? Do you have any idea what time it is?”
I flinched. She never called me Billie Joe unless she was fired up. I gulped. “S’out drinking.”
She rolled her eyes and shifted her eyes to the clock. Her voice was low and venous. I was actually fucking scared, but I kept my cool. I was good keeping my cool after a few drinks. “You were out drinking until 5am in the fucking morning? Goddamnit Billie Joe. I’m sick of you drinking your head off like that. What about me, Billie? We have two kids now, two kids. Do you know how hard it is to raise them by myself?!” She took a deep breath to calm herself down and sighed. “Look, is there something wrong? Why do you always go drinking? I know you, there must be something bothering you. Did you have another band fight? Tell me, Billie Joe. I want us to solve this together and have things the way they were before. I need you more than ever now. I can’t do this alone.”
My half-open eyes stared blankly at her. I noted the seriousness in her eyes and bit my lip. A groan escaped my lips as I threw my head into my hands. Why now? Why did she have to confront me now? But she was right. I wasn’t myself. Guilt was eating me inside out. When sober, I couldn’t even look at her without having flashbacks with the night with Blue Eyes. And before I knew it, my mouth motored off and spilled my thoughts out.
“You really want to fucking know? Okay, I’ll tell you. Guilt has swallowed up my heart and mind. I’m a fucking mess right now, and it’s the only way I can cope. And you know why I’m guilt as fuck? Because I fucking cheated. Yes. That’s right. I fucking cheated. I don’t expect you to believe me, but I’m actually really sorry for all this shit I’ve caused you because I love you. I love you. And you know what else? I don’t expect you to forgive me. I’m a lousy husband, and you fucking deserve better.”
All drunkenness started to dissolve from my bloodstream. Adrienne stared at me in horror as if I just told her that her mother died. Jakob started to wail. Life was hell at that point. I fucked up.
Finally, I received some type of response from her. She slowly shook her head as if she were trying to comprehend everything I just told her. Her face was full of disbelief. But then moments later, everything seemed to click and her face was filled with outrage. Jakob howled louder.
“You know what? Get the fuck out, Billie. Just - just get out. I don’t have the energy right now to deal with this, and I don’t want to see your face. So just take whatever shit you want and leave. Don’t call me, I’ll call you.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and backed away. But I stopped. Jakob and Joey. “What about the kids?”
She snarled at me. “Just go.”
I shook my head. “They’re my kids, you can’t take them away from me.”
“Just go. Make sure you’re sober if and when I call you.”
Her face was hard. Tears formed around her eyes, but she kept herself together. She was a strong woman, she didn’t show her vulnerability - not even to me.
I sighed. There was no reasoning to her, and I couldn’t blame her either. If I were in her shoes, anger would’ve seeped through my veins. So I retreated. First I grabbed the phone and called a taxi. Then I dashed to our bedroom. Hurriedly, I grabbed my duffle bag and threw in any clothing and relevant items I could think of. As I exited the room, I made a quick detour and checked on Joey. He was soundly asleep. Quietly, I placed a gentle kiss on his forehead and inspected his tiny face once more.
Before I went back to the main area of the house, I made another detour and grabbed my beloved Blue guitar, placed it carefully into its case, and headed to the door. On my way out, I halted the moment my eyes landed on Adrienne’s face. For the first time in my life, I saw her cry. Her eyes were cast down as she cooed our son to sleep.
When she noticed me staring at her, she was quick to wipe the tears away from her chocolate eyes. An exasperated sigh escaped her lips. “Just go, Billie Joe. I’ll call you when I’m ready to face you,” she sighed softly.
Our eyes made contact one last time. Even though my mind protested, my body walked out of the door with a heavy duffle bag in one arm and a battered guitar case in the other. As I closed the door, the taxi showed up in the knick of time. I closed my eyes and shoved down the urge to thrash, yell, scream, curse, and also the urge to throw up. I pulled myself together and moved forward to the taxi.
After I shoved my few belongings into the trunk, I sunk into the passenger seat. The driver looked at me expectantly. And I realized I didn’t have anywhere to go. I thought about going to Mike, but he would lecture me about being an idiot and not telling her sooner. He would also rant about how I should cut down the drinking. And honestly, I wasn’t in the mood for his motherly talks. In the end, I found myself giving Tre’s address to the driver.
I mentally slapped myself over and over. He made it clear that he didn’t want me coming to his home this early in the morning. But I had nowhere else to go. And anyway, we were going on another short tour in a few days. It didn’t really matter. And I just didn’t give a damn.
As I paid the driver, I noticed the sun was already steadily climbing out and overcoming darkness. And seconds later, I was in front of Tre’s home with my belongings at my feet. I stared at his beautifully crafted door debating whether or not this was a good idea. But before I could control my actions, my hand knocked on the door a few times.
I didn’t expect him to hear my knocks, but he did. His eyes were still filled with sleep. And as my eyes fell onto his lank green hair, a smile crept on his face. He didn’t change it. It was my favourite hair color for him.
After a yawn slipped out of his mouth, he asked, “What are you doing here?” The tone of his voice was neither rude or vulgar. It was a simple question, straight to the point.
My eyes cast downward. My wife, my guilt, my self-control, and my fault. “I need a place to crash.”
He looked at me wearily. For a split second, I thought I saw a flash of pain in his eyes, but he turned away before I could stare any longer. His arm motioned me in as he was engulfed by darkness. I grabbed my possessions and followed him inside. As I closed the door and threw my stuff at the side, he leaned against the wall opposite from me.
He let out a sigh and looked at me, and even from the dark, I could see his vivid blue eyes pierce through me.
“Do I want to know?”
Our eyes broke contact. My eyes closed, I felt like a coward. “I cheated.”
He let out a quiet scoff. “Why’d you fuck things up again, Beej?” I’ve been asking myself that same question every fucking day since 1994.
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Shortly after, I felt something wrap around me. I slowly opened my eyes and found his arms wrapped around me. I melted almost instantaneously to his touch. God, I missed him so much. Why couldn’t I get over him? I was the one who ended it. I rejected him. But why couldn’t I get over him? Why wouldn’t I stop loving him - even for a split second? More importantly, why did I have to always screw things up?
As all these thoughts poured into my mind, silent tears rolled down my face. Tre delicately wiped them away and placed a kiss on my forehead to comfort me. Any thoughts in my mind vanished. I just wanted Tre. But of course, I couldn’t always get what I wanted.
------
Whoa. Long part.
Comments are loved. <3
And I know, I know. The spotlight will eventually go back to Tre. I promise.
author: Sharmel
pairing: Tre/Billie, Billie/Surprise
rating: R
summary: "I need you more than ever now. I can’t do this alone."
previous parts: Here
1998 continued.
Billie
The rest of the tour went by painfully slow. Every night, my mind wandered and thought about the night at Arkansas with Blue Eyes. I thought about burning the crumpled piece of paper that Blue Eyes left me or at the very least throwing it away for my conscience’s sake. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I couldn’t even bring myself to unfold the damned paper and find out his actual name. All in all, my mind was degrading. And I wasn’t the only one suffering.
My marriage with Adrienne was slowly crumbling apart. We used to call each other frequently, or she’d come down and visit me often just like from our previous tours. She didn’t do that for this tour, but that was because I never asked. I never gave her the go signal. In fact, I barely talked to her. I was a lousy husband. I didn’t even have the balls to tell her the truth. Hell, I didn’t even have the balls to fucking lie about it. Instead, the phone calls were brief, stiff, and awkward. The I love you’s we shared over the phone were forced, at least, I was convinced they were.
But we clung to the very last strands out love had to offer. She was pregnant. And thank god the tour was over a month before he was due. If I wasn’t there when she gave birth, our marriage would’ve been done in a heartbeat. Honestly, I believed it was her pregnancy that kept us together. Despite that fact, we were drifting away from each other.
Not only was I holding out my wife, I was also isolating myself from the guys. My mind was always daydream, and I often found myself in my own little trance whenever I was around people. I wasn’t interested with their stories or their life news anymore. I didn’t feel like talking to them. I didn’t feel like doing anything really, except for drink. That was all I wanted and needed. Alcohol.
Mike knew about my adventure with Blue Eyes, but after I confessed to him that day, I never opened the floor with that discussion. But believe me, Mike did try to get more out of me. I just darted my eyes away, kept my mouth shut, and waited for him to give up. Eventually, he did.
And as for Tre? He didn’t say anything. Tre’s not stupid, he knew I did something regretful. I knew he did, his eyes said it all. But he didn’t utter a word to me. We usually conversed through eye contact. Even then, he usually avoided it. I didn’t blame him.
Finally, the tour was over, and I was back with Adrienne. I pretended that everything was fine. And it worked for a few days. But then my efforts to keep happy and normal slowly dissolved, and we were back to the stiff conversations and lack of affection. Right after Jakob was born, the tension between us was so fucking thick that I could slice it with a fucking axe.
Our patience with each other grew thin, in fact, there were some days we couldn’t stand each other. She easily got annoyed with me whether I forgot to clean the dishes or forgot to turn the television set off. She especially got upset when I went to the bar for a few drinks. That woman interrogated me worst than my own goddamn mother when she first found me stoned out of my mind.
Of course, paranoid as I was, my answers were sharp and guarded. Eventually, she figured out I was hiding something. One night, I stumbled into our house - drunk as hell - and found Adrienne sitting in the living room with Jakob cradled in her arms. Tired circles were under her eyes and her hair was wilder than wild.
At first, she seemed as if she didn’t notice me. Boy was I fucking wrong. When she finally glanced up, her eyes shot daggers at me - and I swear to god that if she didn’t have Jakob in her arms, I’d be a dead man. I was too drunk to notice or perhaps, I was too drunk to care though, so I walked up to her and placed a sloppy kiss on her cheek. And ouch, what a mistake that was. She slapped me across the face. How she managed to keep Jakob asleep remained a mystery to me.
“Why’d you come home so late, Billie Joe? Do you have any idea what time it is?”
I flinched. She never called me Billie Joe unless she was fired up. I gulped. “S’out drinking.”
She rolled her eyes and shifted her eyes to the clock. Her voice was low and venous. I was actually fucking scared, but I kept my cool. I was good keeping my cool after a few drinks. “You were out drinking until 5am in the fucking morning? Goddamnit Billie Joe. I’m sick of you drinking your head off like that. What about me, Billie? We have two kids now, two kids. Do you know how hard it is to raise them by myself?!” She took a deep breath to calm herself down and sighed. “Look, is there something wrong? Why do you always go drinking? I know you, there must be something bothering you. Did you have another band fight? Tell me, Billie Joe. I want us to solve this together and have things the way they were before. I need you more than ever now. I can’t do this alone.”
My half-open eyes stared blankly at her. I noted the seriousness in her eyes and bit my lip. A groan escaped my lips as I threw my head into my hands. Why now? Why did she have to confront me now? But she was right. I wasn’t myself. Guilt was eating me inside out. When sober, I couldn’t even look at her without having flashbacks with the night with Blue Eyes. And before I knew it, my mouth motored off and spilled my thoughts out.
“You really want to fucking know? Okay, I’ll tell you. Guilt has swallowed up my heart and mind. I’m a fucking mess right now, and it’s the only way I can cope. And you know why I’m guilt as fuck? Because I fucking cheated. Yes. That’s right. I fucking cheated. I don’t expect you to believe me, but I’m actually really sorry for all this shit I’ve caused you because I love you. I love you. And you know what else? I don’t expect you to forgive me. I’m a lousy husband, and you fucking deserve better.”
All drunkenness started to dissolve from my bloodstream. Adrienne stared at me in horror as if I just told her that her mother died. Jakob started to wail. Life was hell at that point. I fucked up.
Finally, I received some type of response from her. She slowly shook her head as if she were trying to comprehend everything I just told her. Her face was full of disbelief. But then moments later, everything seemed to click and her face was filled with outrage. Jakob howled louder.
“You know what? Get the fuck out, Billie. Just - just get out. I don’t have the energy right now to deal with this, and I don’t want to see your face. So just take whatever shit you want and leave. Don’t call me, I’ll call you.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and backed away. But I stopped. Jakob and Joey. “What about the kids?”
She snarled at me. “Just go.”
I shook my head. “They’re my kids, you can’t take them away from me.”
“Just go. Make sure you’re sober if and when I call you.”
Her face was hard. Tears formed around her eyes, but she kept herself together. She was a strong woman, she didn’t show her vulnerability - not even to me.
I sighed. There was no reasoning to her, and I couldn’t blame her either. If I were in her shoes, anger would’ve seeped through my veins. So I retreated. First I grabbed the phone and called a taxi. Then I dashed to our bedroom. Hurriedly, I grabbed my duffle bag and threw in any clothing and relevant items I could think of. As I exited the room, I made a quick detour and checked on Joey. He was soundly asleep. Quietly, I placed a gentle kiss on his forehead and inspected his tiny face once more.
Before I went back to the main area of the house, I made another detour and grabbed my beloved Blue guitar, placed it carefully into its case, and headed to the door. On my way out, I halted the moment my eyes landed on Adrienne’s face. For the first time in my life, I saw her cry. Her eyes were cast down as she cooed our son to sleep.
When she noticed me staring at her, she was quick to wipe the tears away from her chocolate eyes. An exasperated sigh escaped her lips. “Just go, Billie Joe. I’ll call you when I’m ready to face you,” she sighed softly.
Our eyes made contact one last time. Even though my mind protested, my body walked out of the door with a heavy duffle bag in one arm and a battered guitar case in the other. As I closed the door, the taxi showed up in the knick of time. I closed my eyes and shoved down the urge to thrash, yell, scream, curse, and also the urge to throw up. I pulled myself together and moved forward to the taxi.
After I shoved my few belongings into the trunk, I sunk into the passenger seat. The driver looked at me expectantly. And I realized I didn’t have anywhere to go. I thought about going to Mike, but he would lecture me about being an idiot and not telling her sooner. He would also rant about how I should cut down the drinking. And honestly, I wasn’t in the mood for his motherly talks. In the end, I found myself giving Tre’s address to the driver.
I mentally slapped myself over and over. He made it clear that he didn’t want me coming to his home this early in the morning. But I had nowhere else to go. And anyway, we were going on another short tour in a few days. It didn’t really matter. And I just didn’t give a damn.
As I paid the driver, I noticed the sun was already steadily climbing out and overcoming darkness. And seconds later, I was in front of Tre’s home with my belongings at my feet. I stared at his beautifully crafted door debating whether or not this was a good idea. But before I could control my actions, my hand knocked on the door a few times.
I didn’t expect him to hear my knocks, but he did. His eyes were still filled with sleep. And as my eyes fell onto his lank green hair, a smile crept on his face. He didn’t change it. It was my favourite hair color for him.
After a yawn slipped out of his mouth, he asked, “What are you doing here?” The tone of his voice was neither rude or vulgar. It was a simple question, straight to the point.
My eyes cast downward. My wife, my guilt, my self-control, and my fault. “I need a place to crash.”
He looked at me wearily. For a split second, I thought I saw a flash of pain in his eyes, but he turned away before I could stare any longer. His arm motioned me in as he was engulfed by darkness. I grabbed my possessions and followed him inside. As I closed the door and threw my stuff at the side, he leaned against the wall opposite from me.
He let out a sigh and looked at me, and even from the dark, I could see his vivid blue eyes pierce through me.
“Do I want to know?”
Our eyes broke contact. My eyes closed, I felt like a coward. “I cheated.”
He let out a quiet scoff. “Why’d you fuck things up again, Beej?” I’ve been asking myself that same question every fucking day since 1994.
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Shortly after, I felt something wrap around me. I slowly opened my eyes and found his arms wrapped around me. I melted almost instantaneously to his touch. God, I missed him so much. Why couldn’t I get over him? I was the one who ended it. I rejected him. But why couldn’t I get over him? Why wouldn’t I stop loving him - even for a split second? More importantly, why did I have to always screw things up?
As all these thoughts poured into my mind, silent tears rolled down my face. Tre delicately wiped them away and placed a kiss on my forehead to comfort me. Any thoughts in my mind vanished. I just wanted Tre. But of course, I couldn’t always get what I wanted.
------
Whoa. Long part.
Comments are loved. <3
And I know, I know. The spotlight will eventually go back to Tre. I promise.