Roxanne

I had anticipated Friday being one of the best days of my life. Even if I had sat in my backyard the entire day, and had done nothing but, as long as Billie was there and there was absolutely no worries about who else would show up, I knew it would be fabulous.

Unfortunately, at around three o’clock that Friday afternoon, while I wasn’t experiencing the worst day of my life, I certainly wouldn't have referred to it as one of the best days, either. The only problem with it, other than the fact that it had looked like it was going to storm the entire day, was that I was alone.

The call that I had made to Billie that morning from my aunt’s car had ended quite differently than I had expected. While I had expected Billie to jump at the fact that my aunt was officially gone, and we had no reason to not be together, Billie on the other hand had managed to produce one.

“I’m so sorry, Roxy,” Billie sighed into the phone, followed by a long yawn. I felt my heart drop at his tone and the fact that I knew whatever words followed would be the opposite of what I wanted to hear. It was always the things that you get more excited for that never actually happen. “I’ve been up all night writing and shit. I went home last night and just couldn’t sleep—I actually fucking had something for once. So I sat in my studio writing and recording shit, and then called Mike at like four. He’s ecstatic that our band might not be going to shit, so he came over, and well…here I am.”

I frowned deeply but resisted the urge to vocalize my displeasure. I wanted so desperately to be selfish with him, but I also knew that I couldn’t be. It wasn’t like some petty football practice that I could get him to skip; it was his job. It was beginning to make more and more sense to me why relationships with famous people never worked out. It was hard to teach yourself to not be selfish with the one thing you wanted most.

“Oh, okay,” I murmured quietly. I wasn’t sure what else to say. I wasn’t going to lash out at him or cry. I was just going to wallow in disappointment, because that was so much better. I was a teenager, give me a break.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he repeated. I knew I had no reason to be angry with him, but it didn’t stop me from being disappointed. “I’m going to leave as early as I can to be with you, I promise. We’re just—we’re getting along and writing good shit for once.”

Despite how devastated I was at the twist in my day, I couldn’t help but to be happy for Billie. He had seemed to stressed over his music and so the fact that he seemed to finally be genuinely happy with it for once actually made me somewhat happy. And I suppose that losing Billie one out of the six days we had together because of it wasn’t such a big deal. Billie had called me a few times that day when he had gone outside to smoke or when he and Mike took a break to eat, but that had been all that I had heard from him. I took whatever I could get and appreciated the fact that he actually kept making attempts to speak to me the entire day.

For a while I considered going out and spending my day doing something to fill the time, if anything making another friend that I could be with rather than being alone when Billie or my aunt weren’t around, however all I ended up actually doing was lying by the pool. I didn’t know the area and I didn’t want to get lost in San Francisco to the point where I would have to call Billie up and beg him to help me out. And so rather than doing anything productive the day, I settled for calling my parents along with Sadie and speaking to them for a while before I ended up dozing off on a raft in the middle of the pool. It could have been a lot worse, I know.

I had managed to fall into a deep slumber and sleep peacefully for what had to have been at least an hour, until I was woken up by something dripping onto my face. Once I had wiped it away instinctively only to feel more splash onto my face, my eyes snapped open in anger, ready to glare at whoever had disturbed me despite how groggy I was. A few seconds later, as I started to actually wake up, was when the dripping had turned into a steady downpour and I had realized how stupid I had just been. I groaned loudly and angrily up at the sky that had gone from beautifully blue to almost black as I swam over to the side of the pool from the raft, grabbed my phone, my t-shirt and towel and ran inside my aunt’s home as fast as possible. I know how ridiculous it sounds that I wanted to avoid the rain when I had been in a pool, but being rained on was completely different than relaxing in a bed of water. Ask any female.

I had been up in my room, changing from my bathing suit into a pair of sweatpants and a sweater when I was sure that I had heard the faint sound of a doorbell being rung. At the sound, I finished pulling my sweater over my head and poked my head out of my bedroom door. I had almost shrugged it off as my mind playing tricks on me until I had heard it again. At the sound of the doorbell being rung again, I pulled my phone out of my pocket to see if Billie had called me. Considering my aunt was hours away and Billie was the only one that I had known in the entire northern part of California, the only person I guessed that could have been standing on the other side of that door was hopefully him. But he had told me that he would call me when he was leaving the studio, and I was almost positive that if my phone had gone off, it would have most definitely woken me up.

I took my phone out and pressed the home key, however nothing happened. I scowled and whacked it a couple times along with pressing multiple buttons, however my phone’s screen continued to stay dark. Apparently when I had decided to take a nap earlier, my phone had decided to follow.

I frowned at the lack of help my phone had provided me with and after hearing the doorbell ring yet again (somehow, sounding more furious with the third chime) I started to creep down the hallway and towards the foyer to see who I had left out in the rain for what had to have been a good five or ten minutes by now. With my heart pounding inside my chest, I descended the stairs quietly in hopes that, had it not been Billie on the other side of the door whomever it was wouldn’t hear me. I had watched one too many horror movies growing up and had seen scenarios just like the one I was living far too many times. They had hardly had pleasant outcomes. I hesitated for a moment once I had reached the landing before I crept over to the door which thankfully had a peephole. At the sight of a short, sopping wet and angry looking man holding a pizza box and a brown bag, I let out an outrageous squeal and opened up the door. Before Billie had probably even realized that the door had been opened, I bounded outside of the house, launched myself into his arms and crashed my lips onto his.

“What are you doing here?” I squealed while wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling his body against my own roughly. I didn’t care if I broke the poor man, I was far too ecstatic to see him.

Once Billie had realized what was going on, the frown on his lips had lifted into a beautiful smile full of crooked teeth. He laughed and lifted the hand that hadn’t been balancing the pizza box and bag, placed it on my back and pulled me closer against him. “I don’t even think fans are this excited to see me,” he stated through a playful grin. I felt a burning sensation begin in my cheeks once the past few minutes had caught up with me. If I hadn’t still been in such a state of euphoria, I would have been mortified.

“I didn’t know it was you out here,” I admitted coyly. “I’ve seen so many horror movies. There’s a storm coming, I’m home alone and I don’t know anyone else--I know how this usually ends up for people like me,” I stated. Billie’s eyebrows shot up in surprise before he let out a snort. I couldn’t blame him, I’m sure that I sounded ridiculous.

“You’re so fucking adorable,” Billie murmured through a mocking smile before kissing me. I welcomed his lips. “I called you seven times, Roxy,” he pointed out as we unwound our bodies from each other and he began to lead me inside of my aunt’s home. “At first I thought you were ignoring me because you were angry at me for ditching you today.” I went to argue and to tell him that I really wasn’t angry at him at all, but he smiled and stopped me by kissing me sweetly. “Then I got a little worried that something happened to you, and then I saw on the news how there’s some pretty nasty storms coming this way so I just decided to leave. Your aunt only lives a few blocks away from me, and I know at the fucking first strike of lightning we lose power, so I figured it couldn’t be that different here.” He shrugged and smiled a disgustingly charming smile at me. My heart dropped into my stomach. “I didn’t want you sitting here in the dark all alone.”

I felt my heart begin to melt at Billie’s reason as to why he had left the studio early. Not only had he left what he had described to me earlier as a fabulous day there, but he had left for me. And not only had he left for me, but he had left because he didn’t want me spending a thunderstorm alone. If I hadn’t been swooning like mad over that man before that moment, I most definitely was now. Despite my hatred of thunderstorms, even they couldn’t erase the smile from my face or the feeling of elation that had taken over.

Ever since I had been a child I had hated thunderstorms. Except it wasn’t as much of hatred as it was terror. When I had been younger, about ten or so years old, my babysitter hadn’t showed up a certain night when I had gotten out of school. My parents had assumed she was there, and therefore hadn’t called at all to check up. Had there not have been a storm, I more than likely would have been absolutely fine by myself. I wasn’t unintelligent. My ten year old self would have probably sat in the lounge watching television and made myself some easymac for dinner. Unfortunately for my adolescent self, there had been a nasty string of storms that afternoon and evening, which had resulted in the power going out. Rather than having a relaxing, “grown up” evening all to myself, I ended up spending the entire evening locked in my room under the blankets, bawling my eyes out into the dark and silence until my parents had gotten home.

By eighteen years old, I probably should have gotten over my quite pathetic fear of thunderstorms, however unfortunately for myself, I never had. Instead of working on getting over my fear of storms, I had made sure to spend every single thunderstorm since the awful one years ago with somebody—anybody. When Bryan and I had started dating a year or so later, I had admitted my fear of storms to him and due to the amazing boyfriend he had once been, he had made sure that I would never have to spend one alone. Ones where he wasn’t around to cuddle with me, I spent with Sadie. As if being terrified of a thunderstorm wasn’t horrible enough, I had become dependent on people during them.

When Bryan had broken up with me, one of the first things that had crossed my mind while I had been wallowing in misery those few days was what I would do during thunderstorms. Truth was, if Billie hadn’t showed up when he had, I probably would have been a complete mess in only about ten or so more minutes. I wasn’t about to let Billie know that, though. I was going to keep my mortifying secret away from him as long as I possibly could and just enjoy the fact that he was with me.

“Thank you,” I cooed into Billie’s shoulder. He had perched himself upon one of the stools in my aunt’s kitchen and I was more than happy to have been pulled against his body and enveloped by his colorful arms.

“I like this you,” he pointed out with a grin while motioning to my gray sweatpants and maroon sweater. “I never thought I’d see you dressed down.” When I blushed, he laughed and rolled his eyes at my bashfulness. “You’re beautiful, Roxanne. You could be dressed in a fucking potato sack and you’d look better than any girl out there.”

“I wasn’t exactly expecting you,” I pointed out while refusing eye contact. It was true. If I had been expecting Billie, I would have changed into something much more adorable than sweatpants and a sweater.

“Seven times,” he repeated while pointing an accusing finger at me. “They all went straight to voicemail. I even considered leaving a sappy fucking voicemail apologizing and begging for you to call me back, but I decided to just show up with food and ask you to forgive me that way instead.”

“My phone died,” I pointed out while pulling it out of my pocket to show him. “I was on it a lot earlier today, I called Sadie and my parents and talked for awhile, it wasn’t fully charged then so it must have died.”

“Mmhm,” Billie hummed teasingly, “likely story. Either way, you have free food.” Before I could argue with him, he hopped down from the stool and turned towards the food that was on the counter. I frowned when I finally realized that he had bought me food, which meant he had spent money.

“This is too much,” I stated while looking at the box of pizza and brown bag.

Billie rolled his eyes. “Don’t even. You’re a teenage girl. I know you guys try to be all modest and shit, but I know how you guys really are. A teenage girl can eat more than a guy, don’t even try argue.”

He was most definitely right. I almost always ate more than Bryan, but usually held myself back from doing so for my own dignity’s sake. My parents often poked fun at me and just referred to me as “the eating machine”. It was never as funny as they thought it was.

“We have leftovers here,” I pointed out while motioning to the fridge. “You didn’t have to go and buy food.”

“Oh jesus christ, Roxanne,” Billie groaned, “you’re the most difficult person I’ve ever met. It's fucking pizza and chinese, not a goddamn house. I didn’t know what you preferred and you were ignoring me," he paused and grinned when I rolled my eyes, "so I bought both. It was so expensive that I'm broke and homeless now, you can never repay me so just eat it because it's all I've got left and it's the least you could do."

I pursed my lips and narrowed my eyes at Billie’s sarcasm, however the anger faulted when I heard the first rumble of thunder in the distance. Rather than bickering with the poor guy more, I instead exhaled loudly and smiled in defeat. “Thank you,” I murmured while scooting closer to him. Billie grinned in triumph.

“Besides, this is also kind of a thank you to you,” he pointed out while taking a slice of pizza out of the box. I cocked an eyebrow. “I listened to you,” he continued. I still had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. I knew that I talked a lot, therefore he had to specify what exactly I had said that he listened to. “About the album,” he continued once he had swallowed. I still felt lost, however. Billie chuckled.

“It’s a lot,” he admitted. “The past few days have been a little crazy, and today Mike and I finally agreed on what we need to do.” He waved his hand at me. “Finish eating and I’ll tell you about it. I’m really fucking happy though, Roxanne,” he admitted. As if his words weren’t enough to convince me, the smile that had lit up his face most definitely was. The Billie that I was currently looking at actually looked a lot happier, and even a bit younger, despite the dark circles under his eyes, than the one I had met on the plane. It was beautiful.

Billie and I had continued eating dinner and making small talk for what had to have been a half hour or so. I had told him more about my parents and about Sadie and how she had asked me earlier that day if I had met anyone in California. I hadn’t wanted to tell her about Billie then because I knew she wouldn’t understand, and so rather than going into detail, I simply left it at “maybe”, with her. Billie understood completely.

We had moved from my aunt’s kitchen down into one of the lounge’s in her house, which was home to a large fireplace and even larger couch in front of it. Other than Billie’s room with his balcony, it was my favorite room in California. Billie turned on the television that hung over the fireplace and after kicking off his shoes, he fell back onto the couch with a satisfied groan. I watched as he slowly moved from sitting up on the couch to slouching, to then giving up completely and just lying down. I was about to make a sarcastic comment about there being no room for me when he reached out for my hand and pulled me down on top of him. I was more than happy to oblige.

After a few minutes of channel surfing we settled on a rerun of friends that was on. Or rather, I did. We had watched the show in a comfortable silence for what had to have been around fifteen minutes when I noticed Billie’s breathing become softer and more even. When I had laughed at something that had happened in the show and he hadn’t made a sound, I cocked an eyebrow and lifted my head from his chest to see if he was alright. Although seemingly unconscious, he was most definitely alright.

A faint smile pulled at the corner of my lips as I looked down at the man beneath me. His eyes were gently closed, yet his mouth hung open. He was asleep.

Every so often the corner of his lips or his left hand would twitch, but other than that there was absolutely no movement from him. At the sight of him, I was almost positive that I could literally feel my heart dropping into my stomach. For someone that was in a “punk” band and swore like a sailor, I had never seen such pure innocence.

I laid my head back down onto Billie’s chest and turned my attention back to the television that was before us. Even if I wanted his company so desperately with the storm moving in closer and closer on top of not seeing him all day, I didn’t have the heart to wake him up.

It was funny and ironic, in my opinion, how I had been somewhat nervous about spending time alone with Billie. I had spent time alone with him before, true, but we had never had a house to ourselves without any other people around for almost a week. It was different, and after my aunt’s story of betrayal, it was somewhat scary. I had been afraid that Billie was going to try something with me since he knew that we were alone. After seeing him fall asleep and actually become vulnerable to me, however, I felt like an asshole.

I had only been watching television for what had to have been another half hour or so when I noticed the lights flicker. I swore under my breath and curled up closer to Billie, however other than that there was absolutely nothing for me to do.With the power on, I could drown the storm out somewhat with the television. With the power off however, and Billie asleep, I was left to do nothing but sit in the dark and silence. Despite how desperately I wanted to, I couldn’t keep the power on.

For the next ten minutes I watched the power flickered once, twice, three times...and then it was gone.

At the sudden darkness and silence, out of surprise I gasped. At the exact same time as the gasp left my lips, Billie’s body jerked and somehow through the darkness, due to our close proximity, I was able to see his eyes snap open. “Ah,” he groaned, “wah?” He licked his lips and slowly pushed himself up against the arm of the couch. “Power out?” He croaked, followed by a yawn.

Despite the fear that was cruising through my body, I couldn’t help but to smile at his grogginess. “It just went out,” I murmured while sitting up from his chest, “it must have woken you up.”

“What? I wasn’t asleep,” he lied. I choked back a giggle. “Do you know where flashlights and candles are?”

I shrugged. Truth be told, I had absolutely no clue where anything was. It wasn’t my house and I had never even considered the power going out until Billie had warned me about it. “I don’t know where anything is,” I admitted.

Billie chuckled. “That’s no help, Roxy. Can the fireplace be lit?”

I thought for a moment, recalling to when my aunt had showed me around her house. She had pointed out the fireplace and had told me how every winter night she sat by it because of how warm it made the room. I assumed that meant yes. I nodded. Despite the darkness, he managed to see me.

Billie slid out from underneath my body and through the darkness I was able to see him stumble over to the fireplace. After a few minutes of hearing things fall, followed by a string of obscenities, I was about to go over and ask if he needed help, however my question was answered when I heard the click and saw the small flame from his lighter. He picked up a piece of newspaper from the fireplace, lit it, then placed it back inside of the fireplace. After blowing on it for several seconds, the flame started to grow.

By the time Billie had made it back over to the couch and had sat down next to me, the flame had taken off and the room was lit up with an eerie, yet somehow romantic glow. Either way, it was better than complete darkness.

Once Billie had sat down on the couch, he shifted so that his back was propped up against the arm of the couch once again. As soon as he was settled, he reached out for me and pulled me back into his lap. As soon as I was seated, I wrapped my legs around his waist and leaned forward so that my head was resting on his shoulder. Although it was summer, we were still in the Bay area during a storm, which meant I was absolutely freezing. Cuddling up as close to Billie for warmth and moral support seemed like the best option. I felt an involuntary tingle creep through my spine as both of his hands snuck under the hem of my sweater and settled on my bare waist, however welcomed the warmth of his hands.

“You can go back to sleep,” I cooed once I had lifted my head from his shoulder to see his eyelids had begun to droop. The poor man managed to look even more exhausted despite his power-nap. I felt slightly bad that he had been woken up, even if I was ecstatic to have his company during the storm.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” he muttered. I grinned at his obvious embarrassment. Men got embarrassed over such petty things. “I was just resting. It was a long day,” he stated. He took one hand from my underneath my sweater to run through his disheveled blonde hair. “I wasn’t kidding earlier when I said I stayed up all night last night.” I was about to question him about why he had done such a thing, however he beat me to it. “I got home and shit, Roxanne, I just had so much fucking motivation. I had lyrics in my head the entire dinner that I was dying to write down, so when I got home I wrote them down. And then I wrote more down, and more down. Before I knew it, it was five in the morning and I was calling Mike up.” He rubbed an eye with his free hand. “It’s what I wanted to tell you about when I came over. Today was fucking huge, Roxanne.”

“How so?” I asked. He had explained that he had finally had motivation to write again, which was indeed huge after the rut he seemed to have been stuck in, but the way he was speaking made it seem as if there was still more.

“It’s what I was trying to tell you about earlier,” he stated. “With how I listened to you. I wasn’t sure at first, because it seems so fucking risky and I feel like a scumbag lying to fans, but after mulling it over for a few days I told Mike. He was really skeptical of it at first, too, but we called Tre and he fucking loved it. He said it was brilliant, so we decided to do it.” I stared at Billie blankly for a few minutes, still completely lost as to what he was rambling about. When he saw the lack of expression of my face he laughed loudly, cupped my cheeks with his hands and brought me in for a kiss.

“We’re scrapping the album,” he finally admitted. My eyes widened in surprise. “We’re saying somebody stole it. Tonight there’s going to be a break in at the studio, and somebody going to have stolen the master tapes to the album. And then we’re going to start completely fresh.”

I continued to stare at Billie in absolute shock for what felt like hours. He had taken my idea serious? I had absolutely meant it when I had offered it to him, but I had never thought that he would actually listen. The man was a worldwide rockstar that had based his entire life around what he was doing--and yet he had made perhaps the biggest decision in his life based of something that I, his twirpy eighteen year old girlfriend had said.

It was mindblowing. Billie was taking my advice. This was my insane idea. If anything went wrong, which it had a great chance of since I knew absolutely nothing about the music industry, I was liable, or at least going to feel liable. I couldn't help but to feel somewhat sick.

“Wha--really? Are you sure?” I stuttered after a moment of silence. Billie laughed at me.

“Positive. In fact,” he paused and twisted his body to grab his leather jacket that he had placed on the back of the couch before. Once reaching hold of it, he felt up the pockets and pulled out a CD. He handed it to me. Rather than taking it right away, I eyed it skeptically. "There it is," he said once he had practically forced it upon me. "What’s left of Cigarettes And Valentines. I saved you the work of breaking into the studio during the storm, but congratulations, Roxanne, you’re a criminal.”

I stared down with my mouth hanging open at the CD that had been forced into my possession. Sure enough, on the actual CD was Cigarettes & Valentines Demos scrawled out in Billie’s handwriting. Out of everybody Billie knew in the world, which was a lot of people considering who he was, he was giving the album to me? I didn’t deserve such a piece of art, I had barely even listened to his band before I had met him. Giving it to me was such a waste!

“Me?” I asked slowly while still trying to piece together everything Billie had just told me. With my luck, the CD was going to get misplaced, the songs would leak and Billie would never speak to me again. I was most definitely not the scapegoat he wanted. I was a disaster. “Why me?” I asked in terror.

Billie cocked an eyebrow and despite the only light in the room being the flickering of the flame, I could have sworn I saw a look of disappointment quickly flash over his face. My heart melted. I hadn’t meant to come off as how he was probably taking it. “You don’t think it’s a good idea?” He asked hesitantly.

“Oh no,” I gasped while shaking my head like a lunatic, “no, that’s not it at all. I mean, I’m surprised--honored you’d listen to me considering I have no idea what I’m talking about, but why are you giving me the album?” I blubbered. “Why not keep it? I’m a disaster, I’m going to fuck everything up.”

Billie stared at me through wide eyes for a moment before he literally threw his head back and gave a hearty laugh. I frowned at the fact that he was actually laughing at me and stuck out my bottom lip into a pout. Once Billie had seen me pouting, his laughter died down. He snaked the arm that had been free from my sweater around my back and pulled my body even closer (had that even been possible) against his own. Once he was happy with how our bodies were entangled, he lifted the hand that had been inside of my sweater to tilt my chin up so that he able to kiss me.

"You're a lot smarter than you think you are, Roxanne Watson. And," he shrugged, "I just don’t want it,” Billie admitted once he had pulled away. “It’s not from a good time in my life. Most of that album is me really fucked up.” I frowned. “Plus, I want to be honest about some of this. So when we tell people we don’t have any of it anymore, we’ll be telling the truth. We don’t, you do.”

“But why me?” I gaped. “Why not some fan? They’d die to hear this!”

Billie chuckled. “Because you got us out of this mess," Billie stated with a smile. "Because I want you to have it, Roxanne. And trust me, our fans wouldn't want it. For our last album we didn’t even tour. Have you ever heard of a band not touring when they release an album?” He cocked an eyebrow and waited for me to respond. I just shrugged. “No, you haven’t. Because that doesn’t happen. Our last album sucked so bad nobody that we didn’t tour and nobody gave a single fuck. It’s not even a real fucking album, I refuse to talk about it.”

I frowned at the venom in Billie’s voice towards his own work. I understand that everyone was their own worst critic, but Billie was absolutely horrible to himself. “You’re too hard on yourself,” I murmured while running my thumb over his cheek. “Your music is beautiful, Billie.”

Billie shook his head. “I’m not,” he argued, “I’m a perfectionist,” he stated. “I dropped out of high school to do this, Roxy. This is my life. My music is like,” he paused to think, “it’s like my fucking baby. I sit and I re-write the same goddamn song fifteen different times before I even consider it to be acceptable enough to show to someone else. If it’s not perfect, it’s shit.”

“Nothing you write is shit,” I snapped at Billie. Billie’s eyes widened. “You need to stop thinking like that. Maybe what you've written lately isnt your best but it's certainly not shit. Not everything is so black and white.”

The two of us stared at each other for what had to have been at least a minute with matching frowns until Billie’s eyes closed briefly and he sighed in defeat. He wrapped both of his arms around my back and buried his face into the side of my neck. I smiled while lifting a hand to run a it through his hair in comfort. If I got Billie to believe, even if it was only for a second, that he was still an amazing musician, I considered it a small victory.

“I’ve written so much lately,” Billie mumbled into my neck. He picked up his head a few seconds later and shifted on the couch so that he could reach his hand into the back pocket of his jeans. I watched as he pulled out a folded up piece of notebook paper. “I, ah, I actually had something to show you. It’s not the entire thing, but it’s what I’m most proud of today.”

My heart began to pound in my chest in surprise. Billie actually trusted me enough to show me his lyrics? He had just said himself what it took for him to even consider showing people what he wrote. I felt so honored.

“You want me to read it?” I asked slowly, as if to make sure with him it was really what he had wanted.

Billie chuckled. “No, I just want to flash it before your eyes and see how many words you can pick up in less than a second. It’s a really fun game.” He rolled his eyes and laughed while I scowled at him. “Yes, I want you to read it. Call me crazy, but I value your opinion. You don’t know our music, so your opinion is completely fresh. You're not comparing this to the old shit we used to release. This song is, ah,” he paused to think, “it’s different than anything I’ve written before. Y’know? I mean, I used to write about fucking masturbation--,” I coughed awkwardly and he laughed, “and getting high and stupid shit like that. This--this actually says something.”

I hesitantly took the piece of paper from Billie’s hand and shifted so that I could use the light from the fire to read the words written on it. The paper was a complete disaster, filled with crossed off words, entire verses crossed off and even a few doodles. Scrawled at the top of the paper, in much larger handwriting were the words American Idiot.

“American Idiot?” I questioned. The more I repeated it to myself, the more I liked it.

“Yeah,” Billie agreed. He sounded so unsure of himself. “I first thought Idiot Nation or America’s Idiot, but this sounded the best, I think.”

“It has a nice ring to it,” I admitted. “I like it alot.” Both of our eyes met briefly and upon doing so, Billie flashed me what looked to have been a nervous smile. He was absolutely ridiculous. It was me. My opinion shouldn't have even mattered to begin with.

I turned back to the paper in my hands and forced my eyes to focus on the actual words that were on the paper rather than all of the rubble.

Don't wanna be an American idiot
Don't want a nation under the new media
And can you hear the sound of hysteria?
The subliminal mind fuck America

Welcome to a new kind of tension
All across the alien nation
Where everything isn't meant to be okay
Television dreams of tomorrow
We're not the ones who're meant to follow
For that's enough to argue

“You’re an angry little man, aren’t you?” I asked once I had read the lyrics to myself a few times.
It made my heart bleed to know that Billie was so unsure of himself, especially once I had finished reading what he had written. The man was a genius and the fact that he thought anything but that of himself was ridiculous. If Bryan was able to have an ego the size of America because he was good at playing football, why wasn’t Billie able to have any self confidence at all when he was a rock star? It baffled and devastated me.

“After ten cups of coffee at six in the morning, yes,” Billie replied, followed by a chuckle. “I mean, its not finished by any means, but ah, what, er, what do you think?” He asked.

“I think this is amazing,” I admitted. I didn’t want Billie to think that I was bullshitting him because of how much I adored him, but there really was no other way to put it. His lyrics were amazing. It was almost unbelievable to me that the man sitting across from me had written them. “Artists today--they don’t have opinions. They don’t write about anything that matters.” I looked away from the paper and up at Billie. He smiled down at me. “It kills me on the inside. I think this is brilliant. I think you need to put your opinion out there, even if it is as bold as it is, especially because you can be heard and because you write it so beautifully.” I shrugged slowly, finding myself completely loss for words. I knew what Billie was writing was amazing, but making him see that was so insanely difficult.

The grin on Billies face was infectious to the point where even though I wasn’t the one being complimented, I couldn’t help but to mirror it. He looked like a child on christmas. I would have paid good money to have kept that smile there for as long as I’d know him. Wordlessly, Billie took the paper from my hand, let it float to the ground beside the couch next to us and pulled me in for a kiss.

Billie untwisted our bodies from the knot we had tied ourselves in and gently pushed me back onto the couch so that I was lying on my back and he was hovering over me, somehow managing to keep our lips connected the entire time. It was once he had gotten me flat onto my back on the couch that his lips disconnected from my own and reattached themselves my throat. Before I had even realized what what going on and what my body was doing, what was most definitely an actual moan of pleasure escaped my lips.

The second it left my mouth I had automatically begun to pray to any god that had ever said to have existed that Billie hadn’t heard it, however every single one of them seemed to have ignored my pleading. At the sound that had left my mouth, Billie’s lips had stopped what they had been doing to my neck and he slowly sat up. His eyes were huge like a child on christmas while his lips slowly began to be pulled back into a grin. The shadows from the fire managed to amplify the devilish grin that his lips had curved into.

“Oh no, don’t you dare be embarrassed,” Billie threatened. I squeezed my eyes shut, as if it would make this horrendous moment any easier. “I’m serious, Roxanne,” he paused and leaned forward to kiss my lips, “I mean it when I say that that was the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.” He laughed quietly against my lips. “I’m proud of you, I knew you had it in you.”

I continued to squeeze my eyes shut while beginning to shake my head vigorously. Don’t take any of what I was doing the wrong way. I was absolutely not rejecting Billie or hoping that he would stop, in fact it was actually quite the contrary. What he had been doing had felt fabulous and a scarily large part of me so desperately wanted him to continue. It didn’t stop me from being absolutely mortified, however.

Once not getting much of a response from me other than mortification, Billie rolled his eyes and sat up so that he was straddling me. “I’ll get you to open up one day, sweetheart, I promise.” Despite the fact that I knew it was true, and it probably wasn’t going to take much more than what he had already done, I shook my head at his words. Billie just laughed loudly.

Billie leaned back down over me and placed a sweet kiss against my lips. Although I was still embarrassed and refusing to make eye contact with the man, I was more than happy to accept his kiss. “I have a question,” Billie stated a moment or two after we had parted. I opened up my eyes and cocked an eyebrow. He smiled coyly down at me. “I, ah, well,” he frowned and pursed his lips in thought. “If I ever wrote about you, would it freak you out?” He blurted out.

It took me a few moments to process what Billie had just asked me. I had heard him, as in the words had gone through my ears and into my brain, however they hadn’t actually been processed. Billie was asking me if it was alright to write about me? As in he was writing music while thinking of me?

The exact moment that it had all clicked inside of my mind, my heart had stopped. Billie was writing something about me--he was writing a song about me. Me. There was a piece of beautiful music being written with me on the mind.

How could Billie possibly write a song about me? What was there to write about me? I was possibly the most boring person I had ever met. I was from a wealthy family in Connecticut. There was nothing extraordinary about me. I couldn’t process how Billie’s beautiful lyrics would ever be able to have anything to do with me.

“Me?” I asked in bewilderment. Billie cocked an eyebrow. “What the hell could you possibly have to write about me?”

Billie chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Oh sweetheart, you have no idea. You are so much more than you think you are.” I was about to argue with him and tell him that I was so much less than he thought I was, however he didn’t allow me to speak. “It’s not a whole song yet, but it’s impossible not to write about you. I’m only bringing it up because I don’t want to show up and sing it for you one day and have it freak you the fuck out.” He smiled sweetly at me. “I don’t know if it’ll be on the new album, I’m thinking of putting it on another one we’ve been working on.”

“You’re working on two albums?” I spluttered. If that had been the case, why had Billie been having so much trouble with Cigarettes And Valentines? He had completely lost me.

“I didn’t tell you?” Billie asked. His eyes widened and he sounded genuinely surprised. Rather than verbally responding, I just shook my head. Billie sat back on the couch and pulled me into his lap once again. Once we were comfortable, he leaned in and kissed me sweetly. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I told you things have been fucking insane. We’ve been working on this thing for a while--months, really, probably the beginning of the year. It’s nothing serious, I don’t even know if we’ll ever release it. It’s really fucking weird music, it’s like techno shit,” Billie rambled. I tried my absolute best to follow everything he was saying, however he was still making no sense. Billie laughed at my clueless expression.

“The guys and I hated Cigarettes and Valentines,” he stated, “you know that. So while we writing that shit, we wrote other shit, too. It was just for fun. It’s all techno futuristic sounding weird shit. We came up with all of these alter-egos and even a separate band, The Network.”

“So you guys have a second band made up entirely of the same people?” I asked slowly in disbelief. It was all so bizarre.

Billie chuckled at the fact that I was obviously judging him. “Pretty much,” he agreed, “there’s a few different people, but the three of us are all part of it. It’s fun,” he stated, “we write what we want and make stupid fucking music and we can release it and play awesome fucking shows and not give a shit what people say, because it’s not Green Day.”

“So you’re releasing the album you guys are making for The Network?” I asked.

Billie grinned and nodded. “I think so. To get us back in the swing of things. We want to release it and play a few shows with it, see how it works out. It’s a fucking mess, I know, but it’s great. But anyway,” Billie shrugged, “what I had you in mind for, I think we’re putting it on there. It’s not all written, but I can hear it in my head and it’s got a techno-y sound.”

“Can I hear it?” I asked hesitantly.

Billie laughed loudly as if he had thought that what I just asked what a joke. When he saw that there were no traces of amusement on my face, his laughter died down and he became oddly serious. “No,” he answered bluntly. I flinched. “I’m sorry, Roxy, I didn’t mean to be an asshole there. But no, sweetheart, you can’t hear it--not right now, at least.”

I frowned and pushed my bottom lip out into a pout. Billie was going to tell me that he was writing about me, and get me excited for the song itself, and then tell me that I couldn’t hear it? That seemed unfair. Billie laughed at the pout on my face and pulled me closer to kiss me. Despite my pouting, I gave in. I was so easy to break, especially when it came to that man.

"But you let me see American Idiot," I whined.

Billie grinned. "Ah, but I let you read that," he pointed out. Before I could ask to read what he had written about me, he cut me off. "And no, sweetheart, you cannot read what I wrote about you. My songs are my babies and songs that I write about people I'm insanely protective over. You'll get to hear it one day, sweet cheeks, but unfortunately that day is not today."

I sighed heavily in defeat, but didn't argue with Billie anymore from then on. I supposed, no matter how desperately I wanted to see or hear the masterpiece he was in the process of writing, that it was his, therefore I still had to respect what he wanted.

“You don’t have to write about me,” I stated after a moment of silence. While I was beyond flattered at the thought that he had to the point where I could actually feel real tears in my eyes, I didn’t want Billie to think he had to do so.

Billie cocked an eyebrow. “I wasn’t under the impression I had to,” he agreed. He smiled adoringly at me. “I’m writing about you because you’re on my mind and it’s the only way I can talk about you without pissing off my friends anymore or creeping you out.”

Has there ever been a moment in your life where everything that has happened lately catches up to you and absolutely blows your mind? It actually leaves you sitting in dumbfounded silence while you begin to cry because you’re so overwhelmed?

That had been me.

A month ago I had been in Connecticut with my now ex-boyfriend, not knowing that within a few days my life had been about to severely change. I had not only been dumped and shipped to California, I had met Billie Joe Armstrong on my way to it and had formed a relationship with him so fast and so strong that no matter how much I attempted to explain it, it would never be able to do it justice. In a month I had gone from never knowing a man to not knowing how to live without him. And on top of it, he was writing songs--songs about how much he liked me to be released on an album. When people bought “The Network’s” album, they were more than likely going to hear Billie pouring out his feelings about me.

I began to bawl.

He was perfect. He was everything anybody could ever want and all I could do in return was bake him a vegetable lasagna and cake. And the worst part of it was that that was more than enough to him.

“Oh jesus Roxy,” Billie cooed though there was clear amusement in his voice once I had failed to mute a sob. I had been hoping that due to the darkness he wouldn’t have been able to see me cry, however it hadn’t worked out in my favor. “Why?” He asked while hugging my body against his own. I wondered if he ever got sick of me crying. I know I did.

I didn’t want to tell him because I didn’t want to risk sounding like such a sap. I also didn’t want to scare him off. My feelings about him scared me, I couldn’t even begin to imagine how they would make him feel.

“I’m just overwhelmed,” I admitted through the tears while trying to brush them away.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized sincerely. “Do you want me to stop? I’ll back off if you want me to.”

“No,” I gasped, followed by a laugh. “Oh God no, no please don’t.” I would probably die if he did. “That’s not it at all. I love this so much,” I admitted while motioning between the two of us. Surprise washed over Billie’s face, however he didn’t say a word. “It’s just overwhelming, you know? It’s a really good kind of overwhelming, but it still is,” I babbled into his arms.

Billie grinned down at me. He reached to run a hand through my hair comfortingly while pressing a kiss to my forehead. He hadn’t said another word.

Billie and I had continued to cuddle on my aunt’s couch in front of the fire that night without uttering another word. To be honest, I had been perfectly content with that. My tears had finally disappeared only five or so minutes after they had started (thankfully) and only about a half hour after they had gone, I had felt Billies chest start to rise and fall to a rhythmic beat. Sleep had won over Billie for the second time that evening. Not long after it had done so, I pulled the blanket that had been sitting on the back of the couch down over our bodies and allowed myself to start to drift, also.

+++

The power had come back on early the next morning, however both of us had slept through it despite how loud the television had been before it was abruptly shut off. What I hadn’t slept through, however, was the vibrating sensation I felt from beneath me that, through my groggy state I came to realize came accompanied with a ringtone. I had tried to ignore the phone, however the second time whoever it was called back I decided to just answer it and get it over with. Chances are if I snapped at my parents about the time zones, they’d apologize and call back later. I scowled at the phone that I dug for from underneath Billie’s still sleeping body and without so much as a second thought I clicked the “accept” call.

“Hello?” I snapped into the phone. If someone called me in the morning they had to have known that they weren’t going to be speaking to a happy Roxanne.

“Hello?” The person on the phone answered just as nastily. At the attitude, my eyes opened and I cocked an eyebrow. Were they really giving me attitude when they had been the ones to call?

“Who’s this? And why are you calling me?” I asked shortly while rubbing the sleepies from my eyes. I sat up a bit and allowed my eyes to focus on the adorable sleeping man that was still lying beneath me. I wished I had had my camera at that moment because no memory and no words would ever do it justice. I smiled to myself while rubbing my thumb over Billie’s cheek and down his neck.

“Who’s this?” The person, who I realized was a male, snapped back at me. “My phone says I’m calling Billie and this is his phone number, so who the fuck are you?”

I almost laughed aloud at how stupid the man on the phone sounded. If they were calling Billie why would I have answered? I was about to tell them what an asshole they were, however stopped short once I realized that the phone that was in my hand was not nearly as large as the one I was used to. Come to think of it, the ringtone that had gone off earlier hadn’t sounded like mine at all.

Come to think of it, my phone had been dead since the previous afternoon.

“Oh my god,” I gasped. I took the phone away from my ear, only to have my fear confirmed: clutched in my hand, rather than my big, blocky Sidekick was indeed none other than Billie’s Blackberry. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” I apologized to the man on the phone. I looked at the screen to see who I had been rude to for the past few minutes.

Mike.

Mike as in Billie’s best friend Mike? I groaned inwardly. The only way it could have possibly have been worse was if it had been his mother or his ex wife, but that was really all. I couldn’t have been much worse at first impressions if I had actually tried.

“I thought I was answering my phone, I was asleep, I was groggy, I’m sorry,” I babbled to the poor guy who probably couldn’t have cared much less about me at the moment. “I’ll wake Billie up, one second.”

I took the phone from my ear and placed it gently on the floor next to me before turning back to Billie’s adorable sleeping body. It absolutely killed me to have to have disturbed him, and for a moment I considered telling his friend to call back later, however I had already given the poor guy enough shit for the moment.

“Billie?” I cooed while gently shaking him. He stirred and mumbled incoherent words, but that was all. I sighed inwardly. “Billie Joe, I made a mistake, I’m sorry. You have to wake up and then I promise you can go back to sleep.” I began to shake his shoulder a bit rougher.

“Wah?” Billie mumbled as he cracked an eye open slightly. He stared at me through one half-opened eye for a moment before a warm smile melted over his lips and his other eye cracked open, also. “Good morning, beautiful,” he croaked. I had to hold myself back from jumping on him. There was absolutely nothing sexier than a half asleep man.

“Hello sleepyhead,” I greeted. I leaned towards him and kissed him sweetly. Despite both of us having disgusting morning breath, it was worth it. “So, don’t be mad, but your phone rang and woke me up. I was half asleep, so for some reason I thought it was my phone.” I reached down to the floor and picked up Billie’s phone. “Well, it wasn’t, so now there’s a pretty angry guy looking for you.” I handed the phone to him. He hesitantly took it. I grinned as innocently as possible at him. “I’m sorry.”

Billie chuckled and slid an arm around my waist. Effortlessly, he pulled my body back against his still lying down one. “Hello?” He answered the phone cautiously. Almost immediately an amused grin took over his lips. “Hey, man,” he greeted in a much friendlier tone. He laughed loudly at whatever they said and his eyes flashed to me. I felt my cheeks burn in embarrassment at what I had done. I was so embarrassingly stupid.

I watched silently as Billie turned to lie on his back rather than his side. He ran a hand over his eyes and down his face. “That’s Roxanne,” he stated into the phone. He rolled his eyes. “Of course she’s fucking real, I fucking told you.” He laughed. “Yeah, she’s a little spitfire.”

I groaned at the fact that Billie and his friend were speaking about me and after deciding not to sit and listen in on it anymore for my own sake, I got up from the couch and wandered into the kitchen to find the two of us something for breakfast. I couldn’t exactly say anything to Billie, but I was praying that his friend hadn’t called to take him away from me for another day.

I popped two pieces of toast into the toaster on my aunts counter and was about to go to the fridge when Billie stepped into the kitchen. I couldn't help but to grin at the sight of him. His hair was a tousled mess while his clothes were a wrinkled disaster from sleeping in them, but he was still oh so beautiful.

"Hello," I greeted as he crossed the kitchen. I was hesitant, but was about to ask whether or not I got to keep him that day, however I found myself at a loss for words when Billie cupped his hands around both sides of my face and pushed my body up against the counter with the weight of his own. His eyes met mine, then dropped down to my lips. He concentrated on my lips for a few things and then leaned in to press a tender kiss against them.

I could spend the rest of my life kissing that man and the butterflies would probably never go away.

When we parted a few minutes later, Billie was grinning like a child on Christmas at me. I was about to ask why he was so happy and if he was mine for the day, but he spoke first. "You're mine for the day," he said before kissing me again. I could literally feel the elation running through my body. "And for the rest of the week, if I get my way."

"I like the sound of that," I murmured happily.

"That was Mike," Billie stated. I winced. I had made such a fool of myself in front of his best friend and I hadn't even met him yet. Billie laughed at my obvious humiliation. "He thinks you're adorable, because, well, you are." I groaned uncomfortably. Billie shifted his feet. "I, uh, I want you to meet them," he stated after a moment.

I looked at Billie in surprise. Although I would never say it, I had been wondering when I would meet Billie's best friends. They seemed to have had a tighter bond than family, yet he had never even mentioned me meeting them. Although the thought of meeting people who meant so much to Billie terrified me, I was somewhat excited for it. I wanted to know what they'd think of me and our relationship.

"I'd love to," I agreed with a nod of my head. Billie smiled out of what looked to have been relief. It must have been nice to have me finally not put up some sort of right.

"Tre's out of town for the rest of the month, he's on vacation with his kids, they're over in Germany. But when he gets back I'm going to have you meet them."

Rather than saying anything verbally, I just nodded and leaned in for another kiss. What eventually broke the two of us apart a few minutes later was the sound of the toast popping up from the toaster surprising us. Once we had seen what made us jump, the two of us giggled at each other as we each took a slice.

When I separated my body from Billie's in order to go and retrieve the eggs I had forgotten about from the fridge, Billie followed behind me closely and shut the fridge on me as soon as I attempted to open it. He didn't say a word until I turned and glared at him.

"Come on," he said while motioning his head towards the front of the house. "Lets go out for breakfast, I know a cute little cafe in San Francisco you'd love."

I frowned. I hadn't showered, San Francisco was at least twenty minutes away and that would require Billie spending money. While going with him sounded appealing and I knew I would ultimately end up going, I couldn't help but be a pain in the ass about it first. "I haven't showered," I stated.

Billie rolled his eyes. "It's not a fucking contest to see who's showered the most recently, Roxanne, it's a cafe." He shrugged. "It's also San Francisco, half the people there don't shower ever. Don't give me anymore bullshit reasons, we're going."

I sighed heavily in defeat. There was no arguing with Billie in times like so, he was far too stubborn. "Can I at least go change?" I asked while motioning to my sweater and sweatpants that I still wore.

Billie pursed his lips. "Fine," he agreed after a moment of clearly judging whether or not my outfit was suitable for the beautiful day we were about to go out into. "You have ten minutes. I'm not going to sit down here for a half hour while you try on everything you brought with you and tell yourself you don't look beautiful, because you do and you are."

I smiled adoringly up at Billie and leaned in for a kiss that he was happy to accept. Despite Billie's threats against me taking more than 10 minutes to get ready, once I had gotten into my bedroom, I stripped down quickly and took perhaps what was the fastest shower in my life. As soon as I had gotten out, I slipped into the first dress I could find in the closet, did my makeup quickly and slunk down the stairs into the kitchen where Billie still sat perched upon a stool. At the sound of me entering the room he looked up from the newspaper in front of him that he had been reading and over to me. I watched as he smiled widely, then as he looked confused because something looked different about me, and then he rolled his eyes when he figured out what it was.

“You’re such a pain in the ass,” Billie stated as he got up from the stool. I giggled. “And don’t think you won’t pay for that one later, but right now all I can think about is food, so let’s go.”

Without a second thought, hand in hand I followed Billie through the house, out the door and into the beautiful day that was all ours.