Let's fly through the sky 'cause it's so awesome and blue
Title: Suicide Makeover (25/?)
Author: Logan
Pairing: young!Billie/Mike
Rating: PG-13
Previous: (1-24)
Summary: "Honestly, Billie, I just don't want to lose all contact with you."
A/N: Sorry for being MIA the past couple weeks. My spring class got nice and intense but it's over now so hopefully the next update will come a bit quicker!
I follow Billie Joe down through the hallways of the hospital. He’s walking fast, too fucking fast, towards the main room. Because he knows that I can’t confront him in there. Not around a bunch of fucking crazies and shit.
He enters the common room and goes straight for an empty couch situated near the window. He sits down on the edge, non-existent ass nearly sliding off the cushion, and buries his face into his hands. I almost feel bad for him. And then I remember that I have no reason to feel bad for him.
I walk slowly up towards him and sit down next to him. Not too far away that it’ll be uncomfortable to talk but not so close as to make him uncomfortable.
“Hey, Billie,” My voice shakes as I chew on my lower lip, “I--she said it’s okay that you ran off,” Bullshit, she didn’t say anything like that, “And I think…I think we’ll still get out of here on time.”
“Great. That’s all…just…awesome,” Billie Joe sighs and inches further away from me, never once raising his head from his hands, “I--we only have two days after today is done. Let’s just…I don’t know…”
I can understand where he’s coming from. He sounds confused. Just as confused as I am. But I don’t want to just leave things alone and I don’t think that he fucking realizes that.
“That’s fucking fantastic that you think that way, but I really want to just get to the bottom of all this shit.”
Billie Joe looks up at me with tears in his eyes and lets out a choked sob, “I’m the evil one here. I’m the one who is fucking things up and I don’t like it. Not at all. I don’t want to leave you all sad and shit because I know what that feels like. But I also don’t think that we…”
I can’t help it, I place a hand on his shoulder and stare into his eyes. I feel like crying but I’m not going to let that happen, I can’t let it happen. Instead I just ask him softly, “Why can’t we? Besides your fu--your boyfriend, why can’t we? I can deal with just being your friend. Honestly, Billie, I just don’t want to lose all contact with you.”
“I--see, I’m not staying here when I get out. I’m leaving. We’re leaving. Me and Frankie,” Billie Joe brings his hand up to his mouth, teeth instantly tearing at his already too-short fingernails, “You--you can’t interfere with that. You just…can’t.”
I can’t help but squeeze my eyes shut as I toss my head backwards, “What the fuck does any of that mean, Billie Joe?”
“Billie.”
“Billie. What the fuck does that mean, Billie,” Jesus Christ, can he get anymore fucking…fuck.
“It means that I think we should stop talking to each other. Or, at least, stop talking about this shit,” Billie Joe sighs in frustration, spitting out a fingernail while I groan in horror and disgust, “Oh, seriously? A little fingernail is going to bother you, Pansy?”
I shove his shoulder and he laughs. I join him with a short laugh but I don’t mean it. I actually feel like crying but I’m still telling myself that I am not going to. Instead I just squeeze his shoulder and stand up, “Well, if you aren’t going to talk about this with me. About what just happened. Then I’m going to just leave you alone.”
He murmurs a soft thanks in return and smiles before standing up and stretching his arms above his head. I can’t help but stare as his shirt lifts up to reveal a sliver of snow white skin, marred by those scars that will stay with him for the rest of his life. I want to reach out and touch them. The few lines I can see reaching out from under the material. What I would give to be able to push his shirt up just a bit more and trace those patterns. Tell him that it’s okay and that it will get better. He just needs to keep me by his side.
But I don’t. I just listen to him as he tells me that he’s going to go apologize to Dr. Moore and that he’ll see me later. I nod my head and watch as he walks out of the room. His little hips swaying from side to side as he walks. It’s almost, almost, as though he knows that I’m watching. That he’s putting on a fucking show for me.
Someone walks up and sits down on the couch next to me. It’s a girl with hair so red that it can’t be her natural colour. I’m wondering how she keeps it so vibrant in a place like here that I completely miss her telling me her name. Asking me for my name. Talking about something.
I snap back into reality when she says something along the lines of that dark-haired boy.
“You mean Billie? What about Billie?”
She wrinkles her nose the tiniest bit before curling her lips into a smile, “I was just asking you why you’re bothering with him. Sorry,” She twirls a piece of hair around her finger, “I was kinda listening to you guys talking. I just got here the other day and you guys are kinda interesting to watch. But why?”
“Why what?” I’m kind of annoyed. Not only have I made a fool out of myself today and lost the person that I’m starting to fall for but apparently I’m also a fucking sideshow.
She shrugs, “Why do you keep trying with him? He doesn’t look like he likes you or anything.”
My heart falls because if someone else is noticing that he doesn’t like me then he must really fucking despise me.
“But, looks can be deceiving,” She smiles and pats my knee before standing up, “I think you should just back off for a little bit but that doesn’t mean to stop trying. You guys look cute together and his eyes tell a complete different story than what his voice does.”
I’m about to ask her a question but she walks off. Red hair falling across her face as she sits down at one of the tables and goes back to reading a well-worn novel. I want to get up and follow her, ask her about what she just said, but I don’t.
Instead, I wander out of the room and down to the payphone in the hallway. I don’t even know who I want to call but my fingers dial the number and I jump when someone actually answers.
“Hey…could you just, uh, maybe just talk to me for a little bit?…I need some advice…”
And I stay on the phone for a good half hour. Pouring my heart out to the people who walk through the hallway and, of course, my sister on the other line.
She agrees with the red-haired girl.
Tells me to just give him some time.
And then she says that she always knew I was a faggot. But she says it with a smile in her voice that makes me wish she were standing next to me so I could punch her fucking arm.
---------------------------
Sorry for the long gaps between updates.
Hopefully I'll update a bit more regularly this month.
Thanks for the continued support, guys.
Every single comment means a lot.
<3
( Next Part )
Author: Logan
Pairing: young!Billie/Mike
Rating: PG-13
Previous: (1-24)
Summary: "Honestly, Billie, I just don't want to lose all contact with you."
A/N: Sorry for being MIA the past couple weeks. My spring class got nice and intense but it's over now so hopefully the next update will come a bit quicker!
I follow Billie Joe down through the hallways of the hospital. He’s walking fast, too fucking fast, towards the main room. Because he knows that I can’t confront him in there. Not around a bunch of fucking crazies and shit.
He enters the common room and goes straight for an empty couch situated near the window. He sits down on the edge, non-existent ass nearly sliding off the cushion, and buries his face into his hands. I almost feel bad for him. And then I remember that I have no reason to feel bad for him.
I walk slowly up towards him and sit down next to him. Not too far away that it’ll be uncomfortable to talk but not so close as to make him uncomfortable.
“Hey, Billie,” My voice shakes as I chew on my lower lip, “I--she said it’s okay that you ran off,” Bullshit, she didn’t say anything like that, “And I think…I think we’ll still get out of here on time.”
“Great. That’s all…just…awesome,” Billie Joe sighs and inches further away from me, never once raising his head from his hands, “I--we only have two days after today is done. Let’s just…I don’t know…”
I can understand where he’s coming from. He sounds confused. Just as confused as I am. But I don’t want to just leave things alone and I don’t think that he fucking realizes that.
“That’s fucking fantastic that you think that way, but I really want to just get to the bottom of all this shit.”
Billie Joe looks up at me with tears in his eyes and lets out a choked sob, “I’m the evil one here. I’m the one who is fucking things up and I don’t like it. Not at all. I don’t want to leave you all sad and shit because I know what that feels like. But I also don’t think that we…”
I can’t help it, I place a hand on his shoulder and stare into his eyes. I feel like crying but I’m not going to let that happen, I can’t let it happen. Instead I just ask him softly, “Why can’t we? Besides your fu--your boyfriend, why can’t we? I can deal with just being your friend. Honestly, Billie, I just don’t want to lose all contact with you.”
“I--see, I’m not staying here when I get out. I’m leaving. We’re leaving. Me and Frankie,” Billie Joe brings his hand up to his mouth, teeth instantly tearing at his already too-short fingernails, “You--you can’t interfere with that. You just…can’t.”
I can’t help but squeeze my eyes shut as I toss my head backwards, “What the fuck does any of that mean, Billie Joe?”
“Billie.”
“Billie. What the fuck does that mean, Billie,” Jesus Christ, can he get anymore fucking…fuck.
“It means that I think we should stop talking to each other. Or, at least, stop talking about this shit,” Billie Joe sighs in frustration, spitting out a fingernail while I groan in horror and disgust, “Oh, seriously? A little fingernail is going to bother you, Pansy?”
I shove his shoulder and he laughs. I join him with a short laugh but I don’t mean it. I actually feel like crying but I’m still telling myself that I am not going to. Instead I just squeeze his shoulder and stand up, “Well, if you aren’t going to talk about this with me. About what just happened. Then I’m going to just leave you alone.”
He murmurs a soft thanks in return and smiles before standing up and stretching his arms above his head. I can’t help but stare as his shirt lifts up to reveal a sliver of snow white skin, marred by those scars that will stay with him for the rest of his life. I want to reach out and touch them. The few lines I can see reaching out from under the material. What I would give to be able to push his shirt up just a bit more and trace those patterns. Tell him that it’s okay and that it will get better. He just needs to keep me by his side.
But I don’t. I just listen to him as he tells me that he’s going to go apologize to Dr. Moore and that he’ll see me later. I nod my head and watch as he walks out of the room. His little hips swaying from side to side as he walks. It’s almost, almost, as though he knows that I’m watching. That he’s putting on a fucking show for me.
Someone walks up and sits down on the couch next to me. It’s a girl with hair so red that it can’t be her natural colour. I’m wondering how she keeps it so vibrant in a place like here that I completely miss her telling me her name. Asking me for my name. Talking about something.
I snap back into reality when she says something along the lines of that dark-haired boy.
“You mean Billie? What about Billie?”
She wrinkles her nose the tiniest bit before curling her lips into a smile, “I was just asking you why you’re bothering with him. Sorry,” She twirls a piece of hair around her finger, “I was kinda listening to you guys talking. I just got here the other day and you guys are kinda interesting to watch. But why?”
“Why what?” I’m kind of annoyed. Not only have I made a fool out of myself today and lost the person that I’m starting to fall for but apparently I’m also a fucking sideshow.
She shrugs, “Why do you keep trying with him? He doesn’t look like he likes you or anything.”
My heart falls because if someone else is noticing that he doesn’t like me then he must really fucking despise me.
“But, looks can be deceiving,” She smiles and pats my knee before standing up, “I think you should just back off for a little bit but that doesn’t mean to stop trying. You guys look cute together and his eyes tell a complete different story than what his voice does.”
I’m about to ask her a question but she walks off. Red hair falling across her face as she sits down at one of the tables and goes back to reading a well-worn novel. I want to get up and follow her, ask her about what she just said, but I don’t.
Instead, I wander out of the room and down to the payphone in the hallway. I don’t even know who I want to call but my fingers dial the number and I jump when someone actually answers.
“Hey…could you just, uh, maybe just talk to me for a little bit?…I need some advice…”
And I stay on the phone for a good half hour. Pouring my heart out to the people who walk through the hallway and, of course, my sister on the other line.
She agrees with the red-haired girl.
Tells me to just give him some time.
And then she says that she always knew I was a faggot. But she says it with a smile in her voice that makes me wish she were standing next to me so I could punch her fucking arm.
---------------------------
Sorry for the long gaps between updates.
Hopefully I'll update a bit more regularly this month.
Thanks for the continued support, guys.
Every single comment means a lot.
<3
( Next Part )