Roxanne

030.

I had to plead with my aunt to stop her from going to Billie’s house that afternoon after I had explained to her what happened. It had only been when I begged her to not to leave me alone that she finally put her keys down on the table in the foyer and sank down to the floor next to me. She gently pulled my mess of a body against her own and began to thread her fingers through my long hair.

“I don’t want anything to do with him,” I choked out between strangled sobs. “Not even you yelling at him. I don’t want to give him that satisfaction. He’s dead to me, Aunt Jen.”

“I understand,” she cooed quietly while placing a kiss upon my head.

“You were completely right,” I sobbed, “and it hurt’s so bad.”

We stayed on the floor of my aunt’s foyer for what seemed to have been hours before my sobs began to get quieter and my breathing started to change from minor hyperventilating to normal breaths. For the first time in my life, I truly knew what it felt like to physically not be able to cry anymore. No matter how long I sat there, even with my lack of tears, I didn’t feel any better.

It all hurt so much worse than I ever could have imagined. The pain inside of my chest was so intense to the point where I was almost afraid that something was physically wrong with me. All I wanted, more than anything, was for it to stop.

“I want to go home,” I murmured quietly to my aunt later that afternoon while taking a sip of tea. Once I had stopped crying in her foyer, she had managed to convince me to move into the lounge and onto the plush couches. Once I had settled down, she had cocooned me in blankets and brought me tea.

“You’ll regret that,” my aunt cooed. I stared up at her in bewilderment. Going home meant that I was as far as humanly possible away from Billie Joe Armstrong, whom had just broken my heart. In what world of hers would I ever regret going back home? If I went home, I could begin to attempt to forget Billie and return to my normal life that he had distracted me from.

My aunt smiled sympathetically at my bemused expression. “Roxanne, sweetheart, if you go home it’s just going to get worse. You left home for a reason, honey.” She sat down next to me on the couch and threaded her fingers through my hair in comfort. “If you go home it won't magically get better. I know it seems like it will, but going home doesn't mean that Billie won't exist anymore."

I frowned, but didn’t say a word. As much as I hated it, and as much as it hurt to admit, she was right. Spending anymore time in California knowing Billie was near was brutal, but going home to where my life was also in shambles was just as much of torture, if not more. At least while in California I could still brood over Billie in peace. At home, where no one knew about my controversial summer romance, I would either have to suck it up or find an excuse. Currently, I was up to neither.

“Listen,” she began while rubbing my shoulders, “I leave for LA in week. If you still want to go home by then, and I mean really want to go home, I’ll let you,” my aunt compromised, “but not right now. You’re too upset right now. If there's one thing I've learned in life, it's to always make big decisions with a clear mind."

For the rest of that Saturday I continued to lie on my aunt’s couch, flipping through the channels on the television. My aunt had spent the day next to me, occasionally offering ideas of things we could do to get me out of the house, however I hadn’t felt up to any of them. Quite honestly, the only thing I felt like doing that day was sulking.

It was when I woke up Sunday morning that I decided that I couldn’t spend the rest of my time in California in my aunt’s guest bedroom. I was allowing myself to sulk, however I needed to be more productive about it.

Almost immediately after getting up that morning, I forced myself to get into the shower and for the first time in a few days, dressed. I slipped into my favorite sundress that I hadn’t worn that summer yet, allowed myself to spend an hour on my makeup and hair and then finally left the bedroom for the first time in nearly 24 hours.

“Where are you going?” My aunt asked apprehensively that morning when she saw me.

“To the supermarket,” I stated while picking up the keys to the car she had lent me for the summer, “if that’s okay with you, of course.” It was her car, after all.

My aunt smiled warily at me. “Of course it’s okay. What are you getting?”

I shrugged while twirling the keys around my pointer finger. “I’m going to bake a cake, I think,” I concluded, “sugar always helps, doesn’t it?”

My aunt smiled, however there was much less worry in it. “That sounds like a brilliant idea.” She reached over to her purse that sat on island next to her and pulled out a $20 bill. When she saw that I was about to refuse her money, she pointed at me accusingly. “Don’t say a word, just take it, Roxanne Watson.”

I sighed heavily in defeat and slowly took the bill from her fingers. “Thank you, Aunt Jen. I really appreciate it.” In response, my aunt stood up and closed the space between us in order to hug me. I was more than willing to accept it.

Whether or not I wanted to admit it to myself, I missed having two arms around me. And as much as I didn’t want to admit it, I missed having tattooed arms around me. I missed his cologne and his hold. It had been two days since I’d spoken to him and it felt like a lifetime already.

But I hated him, so it didn’t matter.

I arrived at the same supermarket that I had bumped into Billie earlier that summer in only a few minutes. For a few moments I had hesitated and wondered if I genuinely wanted to go into the same store, however I forced myself to get over it. I couldn’t spend the rest of my time in California hesitating to go the same places that Billie and I had gone before, because at that rate I wouldn’t even be able to go inside of my aunt’s home.

I decided once I was inside of the store that I would make the pinkest, frilliest, girliest cake that I possibly could, because it was the farthest thing from Billie I could possibly make. The only color I had yet to have seen Billie wear was pink, which meant that it was going to be the only color on my cake. And when I sat and ate it tonight, I would take pride in the fact that I was eating something that had absolutely nothing to do with Billie, as petty as that sounded.

For the most part, my shopping trip had been uneventful. I had found everything that I needed for the perfect vanilla cake and was about to pick out a carton of milk when a hand that was going for the exact same carton brushed my own. I looked to my left to apologize to the person that I had just accidentally fondled the hand of, but immediately became speechless.

How was it humanly possible to know so few people in the entire state of California, yet meet them all in the exact same grocery store?

“Oh sorry,” the man attached to the hand apologized while offering an embarrassed smile. The second he realized who he was smiling at, however, his smiled disappeared completely. Once he then realized that there was a clear look of what was between surprise and horror on his face, he forced what looked to have been the same embarrassed smile on his face again, however he ended up just looking as if he was in pain.

It was a good thing that he was a much better rock star than he was an actor.

“Rox,” he coughed loudly, “Roxanne. Wow--uh, wow, hi,” he greeted.

I realized right then that I must have looked just as horrified as he did. The difference between the two of us, however, was that I wasn’t even able to force the painful smile onto my lips. I was positively horrified to be facing the man in front of me. I actually considered just running in the opposite direction, but my brain and my legs were on two different wavelengths.

Was I going to meet the entire goddamn band in the supermarket? I genuinely wished that it would be the other band mate. The only one that I didn’t actually dislike at the moment.

“Hello,” I spluttered finally once remembering that he had acknowledged me in a friendly way. I supposed that I could be civil as well.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Mike stated through what seemed to be an actually genuine smile. It was the first one I’d ever seen from him. Truth be told, it caught me off guard.

“Uhh--yeah,” I agreed awkwardly while nodding my head. He wasn’t going to try to force conversation on me, was he? I had just broken up with his best friend, whom I assumed he was pretty angry with also at the moment. We clearly had nothing to speak about.

“How uh--how are you?” He asked in a much quieter tone. I groaned inwardly. He was going to try to talk to me. And not only was he going to try to talk to me, he was going to try to talk to me about Billie.

It was too much too soon and far too painful. I needed to get out. ASAP.

“Shitty,” I admitted honestly with a casual shrug. While I wanted him to know that his best friend had devastated me, I also wanted him to know that I was strong and didn’t actually need Billie. I took a step away from Mike, hoping that he would get the hint that I was in no way open to bonding in the center of the supermarket, however he just took another step towards me.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. I frowned. His apology was so much more genuine than I had expected it to have been. It didn’t sound as if Mike was apologizing to me just to make me feel better, but rather because he actually meant it. “If it makes you feel any better, Billie’s not doing any better.” He hesitated while looking at me, taking in my clean appearance. I didn’t look like a girl that had just had her heart crushed only 24 hours ago and I was glad. “By the looks of it, I’d say he’s doing a lot worse, actually.”

I had thought constantly, obsessively about Billie for the past few days, however it was hearing his name that actually stung. “Why would that matter to me?” I bit out. I admit that it came out much more nastily than I had meant.

“I suppose it shouldn’t,” Mike stated with a shrug, “but I’m sure it was the first thing you wondered when you saw me.” He wasn’t wrong, and I hated him for that. “He’s doing pretty terrible, to be honest,” Mike continued.

I felt my heart drop into my stomach. No matter how angry I was at Billie, the thought of him being upset made me nauseous. I had been in a constant state of misery and had been hoping that Billie was the same way the entire time, however when being told that he actually was, I realized that it wasn’t what I had wanted at all. Billie had admitted to what a broken person he was almost on a daily basis, so the thought of him being more upset was surprisingly painful.

“You’re still here, I see,” he pointed out when I didn’t respond to him.

“My aunt wouldn’t let me go home,” I admitted. “She thinks it’s a rash decision and wants me to make it when my mind is more clear.” I wasn’t sure why I was telling Mike everything considering I knew that it was going to go right back to Billie. Eventually, at least.

Perhaps that was what I wanted.

“I’m glad,” Mike admitted. I cocked an eyebrow in confusion, as if to ask him why. What did it matter to him where I went? “Billie’s terrified that you went home,” he stated, “he’s been a fucking disaster. Tre and I have been trying to calm him down since the second he got home yesterday.”

I cocked an eyebrow. They had actually been spending time with Billie? “You forgave him?” I asked bluntly before I could stop myself. I regretted my question almost instantly.

Mike chuckled at the clear look of bewilderment on my face. “He’s my best friend,” he stated with a shrug as if it was reason enough to, “we both fuck up a lot.” Once seeing how unimpressed I was with his explanation, Mike continued. “He messed up, Roxanne,” Mike stated, “and he knows that, that’s the thing. He’s not upset that you dumped him--well, I mean, he is--he’s pretty devastated, actually, but he’s more upset about what he’s done.” Mike shrugged again. “I’m not going to exile the guy because he made a mistake.”

Why not, I thought. Billie hadn’t made a mistake, he had intentionally lied to his best friends and me because he had been embarrassed of dating me. It seemed perfectly reasonable to exile him to me.

Mike smiled sympathetically at me once he realized that he hadn’t persuaded me into forgiving his best friend yet. “I know you’re angry at him,” he stated, “I understand. I was furious too, Roxanne. But you need to talk to him. Billie’s not a bad person, he’s just a little lost.” Mike paused and sighed while running a hand through his hair. “He cares so much more about you than I think any of us realized.” He seemed to have said that more to himself than me. I felt my heart sink into my stomach and I remembered Billie’s confession to me outside of the cafe. He hadn’t meant it, though. He had just been trying to keep me from leaving him. It was a last resort, not an act of love. “Take a few more days to be angry at him if it’s what you need, but then do the both of you a favor and call him.”

“I’ll consider it,” I finally murmured once realizing that Mike was waiting for me to answer him.

Mike smiled at me. “I should probably get going,” he said while shaking the bottle of Advil that was in his hand. I knew automatically who it was for. “I was sent to the store for a reason. It was nice to see you, I’m glad you haven’t gone home yet.” He hesitated and then before I realized what he was doing, Mike had leaned in for a quick hug. For a moment I froze in absolute confusion, but I was able to regain control of my motor skills enough to hug him back briefly. “Just talk to him,” he reminded me once we had pulled away, “if you’re moving on from him that’s alright I suppose, but I know you care about him enough talk to him beforehand.”

I didn’t respond verbally to Mike, only smiled sweetly at him and waved goodbye as he began to turn and walk towards the front of the store. I grabbed the rest of the items I needed for my cake and left quickly before I was there long enough to run into another member of the band.

When I got home that afternoon I immediately had started on baking the cake that I had set out to the store to make. My aunt had attempted to make conversation every once in a while, however I had made it clear that I wanted some time alone. For the rest of the afternoon, I worked on making the pink cake that I had promised myself earlier. When I was finished with the cake, however, rather than eating is as I had been planning to do since that morning, I placed it incredibly carefully into an also pink box that I had picked up from the store. Once inside that box, I placed it into another and then finally into a large bag. I made sure to write absolutely nothing and other than the color of it, leave absolutely no hints as to whom it was from.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” I called to my aunt that evening as I pulled on a light jacket. I made sure to leave the house before my aunt was able to find me in the foyer due to the fact that I genuinely didn’t want to be questioned. I wasn’t exactly sure as to what I was doing, and had absolutely no clue as to why, but I knew that for some reason I genuinely wanted to.

I didn’t forgive him, nor did I even like him, but I still hoped that he was okay.

Every single light inside of Billie’s castle was on and all of his cars, including two that I didn’t recognize, sat in the driveway. For a moment I panicked and highly considered just driving by, but I knew that I wouldn’t have felt satisfied by doing so.

As much as I currently disliked Billie at the moment, Mike’s words from that afternoon had managed to get to me. I wanted him to know that I couldn’t stand him for what he had done, but I also didn’t want him to be an actual disaster. Other than the other day at the cafe, Billie had been amazing to me. He had taken and shown me places that never would have seen without him. Billie Joe Armstrong had been the sole reason that I hadn’t been miserable the past month of my life and if this was really going to be the end of it, then the least that I could do was bake him a cake to say thank you.

He also had enough going on in his life that he didn’t need our relationship issues to add to it.

I pulled my car over to the side of the road in front of his house, next to the gates and the mailbox. After calming myself down all while gathering up as much courage as I could, I quietly got out of the car with the bag that held the cake in my hand.

Despite every light being on inside the house and all of the cars sitting outside of it, there was absolutely no sign of life within the gates. I leaned on my aunts car and listened for some sort of sound to emit from the house, however nothing came. I knew that he was okay and in good hands, but I couldn’t help but feel a bit worried about him.

I immediately shook off the emotion I was feeling towards the asshole and looped the handles of the paper bag over the mailbox, pushing it far enough back to make sure that it wouldn’t fall. Once I had made sure that it was stable, I took one last glance at Billie’s beautiful home and then began my way home.

+++

Monday morning came surprisingly quickly.

As soon as I had gotten home Sunday night, the sadness that I had been consumed with Saturday seemed to have resurfaced. Although I had gotten home from Billie’s house at only around 7 o’clock or so, I went right up to my bed where I lied all night, until around 3 or 4 AM when I was finally able to sleep.

My aunt had stayed home from work Monday morning and had instead worked from home. She had told me that it hadn’t been necessary for her to go into her office that day, however I knew it was bullshit and that she really just wanted to keep an eye on me. I never told her where I went the night before, only that I needed some air. She had asked about the cake, but I told her that I had hated the way that it had turned out. There was absolutely no way that she would understand me dropping it off at Billie’s house when I didn’t even understand it myself.

My aunt clearly thought of me as a ticking time bomb and was waiting for me to go off. Nonetheless, I appreciated her affection.

Monday morning I had still been lying in bed around 11 when I had heard the doorbell ring. For a moment I had considered getting up to answer the door, however I soon brushed it off. More than likely it was no one important and even if it was, I had no desire to speak to them. Matthew Bellamy himself could have been at the door and I wouldn't have been able to care less.

"Roxanne!" I heard my Aunt call a few minutes or so after the doorbell had rung. "Roxanne, sweetie, can you come down here for a minute?"

At first I contemplated pretending not to hear her so that I could continue to lie in my own sorrow at peace, however I ended up forcing myself to get up only due to how great my aunt had been to me lately. If anything, I owed her the few minutes that she had asked for.

With a heavy sigh, I lifted myself from my aunt’s comfortable bed and dragged myself out the door, down the hallway and eventually into the foyer where she stood. I began to descend the staircase that lead to ground floor, however stopped dead in my tracks the moment my eye’s caught sight of what had been placed upon the table.

Newly placed in the center of the table, however managing to take up almost the entire thing was perhaps the largest bouquet of long stemmed red roses I had ever seen in my entire life, in a glass vase that probably could have fit a small animal. “What?” I spluttered while feeling my hand tighten around the railing of the staircase as if my body was afraid that it was about to collapse. “Who--what--did you buy that?”

“Just delivered,” my aunt answered slowly while watching me carefully. She seemed to regret her decision to call me downstairs.

Why?” I asked, although it came out as more of a cry, “by who?”

My aunt held up a smell white envelope between her two fingers. “I’m not positive, but there’s a card.”

For a moment I considered just turning around and heading back to my room to pretend that none of what was occuring had ever happened. Unfortunately, however, I knew that whatever was written on the card would eat away at me for the rest of the day. Despite the fact that I didn’t want to know, I had to know.

I slowly descended the staircase until I finally reached the floor, which I then crossed to reach the bouquet of roses. I stared at them in terror for a few minutes while subconsciously reaching out to feel and take one to smell. They were absolutely beautiful and smelt so wonderful.

“How many are there?” I asked my aunt.

“The delivery man said 100. I think he’s right.”

I felt my eyes begin to fill with water as I stared at the bouquet in front of me. There was no name, nothing on them, but I knew exactly who they were from. I hated him so much, mainly because of what he had done, but also because no one had ever fucked up so bad and done something so sweet because of it.

He was such an asshole.

“Where’s--uh, where’s the card?” I stuttered while lifting my hand to brush away a few stray tears. Wordlessly, my aunt placed the small white envelope in my hand.

For a moment I considered just ripping it up and throwing it away without bothering to read it, but at the same time I genuinely believed that I needed the closure from reading it. Once I read what was inevitably Billie’s explanation as to what happened, I would be able to move on and either actually end up going home at the end of the week, or go down to Los Angeles with my aunt and find a new boy to rebound with.

I turned the envelope over, slid it open with my nail and pulled out the small card that was inside of it. The card, rather than an actual card you would buy at Hallmark, was just a thicker piece of pastel pink paper. Instead of a long, thought out, sappy letter written on the small card, was just a small string of words.

Tell me when it’s time to say I love you.

For what felt like eternity, I stared down at the card in my hands without being able to comprehend exactly what had been written on them. And then his words hit me like a ton of bricks. “Oh my god,” I finally whimpered. I lifted a hand to cover my mouth and at the exact same time, the tears that I had been choking back the past two days had begun to fall all at once.

I allowed my body to slowly sink to the floor of the foyer as I let out a long, shrill sob. My aunt was by my side immediately, gently rubbing my back while pulling me against her small body. Being in her arms was so incredibly soothing, however they were still nothing compared to Billie’s.

I hated him so much, yet I yearned for him even more. I wanted to punch him in his goddamn face, but kiss it immediately after. I missed him so much, but wanted him to continue staying as far away from me as possible.

+++

I had spent the rest of the day locked inside my room, refusing to allow the beautiful roses inside of the room with me. The card, though, had been tucked neatly into the top drawer of the dresser.

At 7 o’clock that evening, exactly 24 hours after I had hung the cake on his mailbox, my phone began to ring. I nearly vomited when I saw his name pop up onto the screen. I knew that I wasn’t going to answer him, for I had been planning out what I would do if he had called since the moment he had dropped me off, yet planning was a lot different than actually experiencing.

The phone had rung about seven times before Missed Call - Billie J had replaced his name. I stared at the phone with my heart pounding within my chest for a minute, trying to determine if he was leaving a voice message before I finally placed my phone down on the duvet. Despite how much I didn’t want him to leave a voice message, I found myself also disappointed that he hadn’t.

The second my phone hit the duvet, it vibrated loudly and went off. Cautiously, I glanced at the screen of my phone and picked it up.

1 missed call & voice message from: Billie J.

As if it had burnt me, I threw my phone back down onto my bed. Hadn’t the roses been enough? What else could he possibly have to say to me? I had told him to stay away from me. I had told him that I wanted nothing to do with him and that I was going home. I knew that I had left the cake, but he didn’t know it was me. I had made sure to leave it untraceable. Even if he had figured that the cake was from me, hadn’t the flowers and that note made up for it?

I told myself to just leave the room and to go sit with my aunt, but in order to get to my aunt I would have to see the bouquet again. If I saw the bouquet again, I would remember the note that had been attached to them. If I remembered the note that had been attached to them, I would inevitably start to bawl again.

Why couldn’t he just leave me alone? Hadn’t I made it clear that I hated him? Why would anyone pursue someone that clearly hates them? Bryan had broken up with me and I hadn’t spoken to him once since then. Couldn’t Billie just be like every other boy out there?

I managed to ignore the message on my phone for 24 minutes until I decided that I was just going to delete it. I wasn’t going to listen to it at all, but just delete it so that there wasn’t any temptation. I opened up my phone and selected the option to listen to the voicemail. I wasn’t going to actually listen. I was just going to wait until it started and then press 7 to delete it.

The message started and at first there was a bit of static. Delete it, I told myself. My finger wouldn’t move. Oh god damn you, delete it.

“Hey, Roxanne,” Billie started. He sounded so sad. Immediately the hand that I had been using to delete the message shifted from my phone to cover my mouth in order to suppress a sob that I hadn’t realized had been bubbling in my throat. I knew that I missed the sound of his voice, but I hadn’t known how much I had craved it.

Billie sighed softly into the phone. I could imagine him running his hands through his blonde hair. I missed running my hands through immediately after to straighten out all of the stray hairs that he had messed up. He had always pushed my hands away but I knew he loved it.

“I had a feeling you wouldn’t pick up,” he admitted quietly. I frowned deeply. “I miss your voice,” he murmured. My heart skipped a beat. I had missed everything about Billie despite it being only two days since I had seen him, but I genuinely believed that I had missed his voice the most. “I miss you so much,” he continued, “I know it’s been two days, but it feels like weeks.” He sighed again. “I think you left a cake on my mailbox, and if you didn’t, I’m sorry. But it’s your favorite color pink and it just screams Roxanne. It’s beautiful, if you did make it. If, uh, if you did--thank you. Thank you so much," he cooed. "I don’t want to eat it because it’s so perfect. I hope you open your own bakery someday. Ah,” he paused once his voice cracked.

“I’m really drunk right now,” Billie admitted. I felt my heart drop further into my stomach while more tears leaked from my eyes. I silently prayed that his best friends were still there to take care of him. “I haven’t eaten today. I don’t think I ate yesterday either. I can’t remember.” He paused shortly. “Mike and Tre keep trying to force me, but I don’t fucking want it. I don’t even want their goddamn help, but they just won’t leave. I just want to fucking be alone. Or with you. I want to be alone with you.” There was silence for a few moments other than some shuffling. “I fucked up really bad, Roxy. I know I did. But Roxy, baby, you need to know I didn’t mean to. It’s not because I don’t love you,” he murmured into the phone, “it’s because I’m just so fucking stupid. God, Roxy, please just tell me what to do. I don’t know anymore. I’m so fucking lost.”

“I wish I could go back and redo this entire fucking thing,” he murmured into the phone after another moment of silence. “God Roxanne, I wish you didn’t fucking hate me. I hate myself so fucking much. I never wanted to hurt you. It was never my intention. I told you I fucking suck at being a boyfriend. I fucking suck at most things. I never think about how anything can fucking backfire, I always just think about the now. I always want everything to be perfect now--that’s what Mike said, at least. God Roxy, I’m just so fucking stupid.”

A soft whimper escaped Billie’s lips and it was then that I lost it. I sobbed heavily while angrily wiping at the tears that now cascaded down my cheeks. I could handle Billie apologizing while telling me that he missed me. I could barely handle his self loathing, but I could not handle the fact that he was crying. I had seen Billie come close to crying when telling me about his father, but even then he had managed to hide it from me. I knew that he was drunk, so emotions were hidden a lot less, however it didn’t make hearing it any less painful.

“Please don’t go home,” he pleaded quietly into the phone, “not without me. I promise you I can--,”

End of voice message.

“No,” I whimpered in terror second the sound of his voice was gone. I needed to hear the rest of his message--I needed his voice. I angrily wiped at the tears in my eyes as I pulled the phone from my ear so that I could properly see the screen. He hadn’t hung up, but rather my voicemail had hung up on him. He had exceeded the time limit. “God damnit, no!”

“Roxy?” My aunt called through the door while knocking. She jiggled the handle of the door a few times. “Roxy, sweetie, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I croaked out angrily. It was evident that I wasn’t. “I’m fine, I just want to be alone, please.”

Billie didn’t call back that night, nor the next morning. However, the next morning I was woken up to the doorbell being rung, followed by my aunt yelling “I’ll get it”, which meant she was still home. Which meant that she still didn’t trust me to be alone. After my small episode the night before, I didn’t blame her. I expected what was coming next, but that didn’t mean that I was prepared for it.

Just as I had 24 hours ago, I slowly descended the stairs into the foyer. And just as I had 24 hours ago, I froze at the top of the stairs. Rather than a large bouquet of roses (which were still there, though not new) being delivered, there was perhaps the largest teddy bear that I’d ever seen.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” I gasped once I reached the landing. I looked up from the bear that sat in front of me in horror. If standing, there was no doubt in my mind that it would be taller than me. “What am I supposed to do with this?!”

My aunt looked up from the giant teddy bear to me. Unlike the day before, however, there was clear amusement in her eyes. I knew she was even biting back a smile. “I think he’s adorable, personally.”

I frowned while looking back to the bear. He was adorable, even if he was bigger than me. It was as if Billie had watched every romantic movie within the past 48 hours and was actually listening to them. I hated him, but I couldn’t deny the fact that he was making my heart quiver.

If I ever spoke to him, I’d make sure to give him props for it.

My aunt and I moved the bear into my bedroom due to the fact that my aunt didn’t want her foyer to start filling up with apologetic gifts. I couldn’t really blame her, Billie’s gifts were less than subtle. If this trend continued, her foyer would have been full within the next few days.

As I feared, the trend did continue. That night Billie had called me again and like the night before, I hadn’t answered. Unlike the night before, he hadn’t left a voicemail. I shouldn’t have been, but I was incredibly disappointed.

The next morning my aunt had finally returned to work. I had been somewhat expecting a package (not necessarily that I wanted one, but rather I knew Billie therefore I knew it was coming) and sure enough, at 11am that Wednesday the doorbell rang. Wednesday, it was a giant (though not quite as giant as the roses or teddy bear thankfully) box of belgian chocolates from belgium.

Wednesday night there was another phone call without another voicemail.

Thursday morning there was perhaps the most beautiful Tiffany’s necklace with a small heart made from diamonds in the center. I sat on the floor of the foyer and sobbed for over an hour before I tucked it away in my drawer, refusing to take it out of the box. I would speak to Billie again, and I would tell him to return it.

Thursday night there was of course another phone call. I considered picking it up to scream at him over what he had bought for me, yet in the end I still let it go. He didn’t leave a voice message either.

Friday morning I was terrified of what would be at the door. Billie seemed to be trying to top himself each day and I truly didn’t know if I could handle anything else. At 11 o’clock that morning the doorbell hadn’t rung, much to my surprise. After sighing out of relief, I felt my phone go off in my pocket. It was a short vibration, meaning that I had been receiving a text message rather than a phone call.

I slid the phone out of my pocket and looked at the screen. My eyes widened in surprise at what I read.

1 New text message from: Billie J.

I turned the screen of my phone off for a few seconds before turning it back on to make sure that it hadn’t malfunctioned. Billie didn’t text me because Billie didn't text at all. I had spent my month with him attempting to get him to learn how to text message me yet he had had absolutely no interest in anything of the sort. I had actually been starting to finally give up on him and technology the day before he had taken me to the cafe. I opened up the message hesitantly.

I’m sorry. I miss you.

I bawled.

+++

When my aunt got home that evening I already knew what she was going to ask. Tomorrow was Saturday, which meant that she would be flying down to LA. She had given me the ultimatum to go down with her this weekend for the week or to go home as I had requested. I knew that staying in her house alone was out of the question. My aunt was terrified that I would either do something to myself, or worse, with Billie, while she was gone.

A rather large part of me had told myself to just go home; that getting away from Billie was probably the smartest thing to do. The other part of me, the larger part knew that I would regret it for the rest of my life. I needed closure with the man (and to tell him to return everything that he had sent to me) even if it wasn't for another week or so.

"I want to go," I told my aunt the second she stepped into the kitchen that evening. She looked up from her mail to me in surprise.

"Excuse me?" My aunt asked.

"I'm all packed and everything. I'm ready to go to LA with you. It'll be nice to get out of the house." I shrugged while taking a bite of my dinner. "It'll be really nice to go to the beaches there, also." I could also find someone to potentially rebound with, but my aunt didn't need to know that.

"They are beautiful," she agreed while nodding her head. My aunt smiled. "Okay, perfect! I'll go and book you a ticket, we'll leave early in the morning."

I smiled at my aunt as she left the room to go and book me a plane ticket. The second she left the room, my phone began to vibrate and sing to me. Sure enough, it was around 7 o'clock and Billie's name flashed across the screen. Sure enough, I didn't answer.

+++

My aunt had woken me up early the next morning in order for us to catch our flight down to LA, much to my displeasure. It has been another nearly sleepless night for me, that was until I had rolled out of bed and crawled over to my teddy bear. I ended up curling up in its lap and finally falling asleep there.

LA was relatively nice, but it still had nothing on New York. The people were just as rude while the city was just as polluted if not more. The only true bonus that the West Coast city seemed to have was its beautiful beaches. Like I had previously stated to my aunt, I was in the city purely to enjoy its beaches and that was exactly what I had done.

Billie had called me every evening however I still hadn't decided to answer him. He still hadn't left another voicemail.

Saturday had made it an official week without speaking to Billie. Once landing, I had spent the entire day on the beach attempting to pretend that I didn't care. I had attempted to flirt with a few attractive guys that had been on the beach, but immediately realized that I wasn't actually interested in them at all. It wasn't me and it never would be.

I spent Sunday doing the exact same thing, the only difference was that I had decided to stop at a Starbucks on the way back to my aunts apartment for a tea.

I had been on my phone, texting Sadie when my ears had picked up on a familiar voice. I froze for a moment, terrified that I had been correct, but continued when I hadn't heard it again. I knew that I was being ridiculous and that it was far too much of a coincidence. There were loads of Starbucks throughout the city, there was no way in hell that I would end up in the same one as one of my two ex-boyfriends. To reassure myself, I quickly glanced over my shoulder to make sure that no one that I knew was behind me.

The second I did that, however, I felt my heart jump into my throat. Or maybe it was my stomach. Either way, I was going to vomit.

My sudden casual appearance changed drastically as I subconsciously crouched down a bit in front of the single person that was separating the two of us. He looked the exact same as he had the last time I'd seen him. If I hadn't been so terrified of my situation or if I hadn't hated him so much, I would have been madly swooning.

The entire time I had been in California my aunt and Billie had both chastised me for my fear of going to LA because of running into Bryan, but I had told them that it was going to happen. I had told them that I knew that he and I were going to run into each other and all they had done was teased me. It wasn't even slightly funny now.

I decided that I would play it cool and act as if I was receiving a phone call. Chances were that he wouldn't even see me if I walked past him, especially if I didn't stop to look at him.

With shaking hands, I opened my phone back up and lifted it to my ear while placing my sunglasses back over my eyes. After counting to three and forcing myself to inhale deeply, with my heart pounding inside of my chest, I shifted out of the line and began to head back towards the door.

I hadn't even gotten five steps away before I heard my name.

"Roxanne?" I heard called from behind me. I froze immediately despite how desperately I wanted to pretend that I hadn't heard a thing and carry on outside. For loving acting so much, I was a horrid actor outside of school productions. I supposed that I couldn’t judge the horror on Mike’s face when I had run into him the other day anymore.

I slowly closed my phone while squeezing my eyes shut. Perhaps the harder I squeezed, the more I could make him go away. Once accepting the fact he wasn't going anywhere, I shifted my body so that I was facing possibly the last person that I wanted to see on the face of the planet.

He looked so unbelievably handsome to the point where I almost forgot to breathe. Being in California has given Bryan a nice tan that had brought out his beautifully blue eyes. Every single part of him was attractive, from his dimples to his hair that had become bleached from the sun. I was actually somewhat speechless.

I wished so desperately that it had been Billie standing there before me instead.

Instead, I just stared at Bryan uneasily from behind my sunglasses, thankful that he wasn't able to see the horror that I knew was evident in my eyes. "Bryan!" I gasped with fake enthusiasm. "Oh my god, hey!"

A genuine smile replaced the look of shock that had been plastered on my ex-boyfriends face. "Wow, Roxanne. I thought I recognized that sundress--what are you doing here?" He asked. He pointed back towards the counter. "Have you ordered yet?"

"No," I admitted. I would have lied if I hadn't wanted a tea so bad. Without another word, Bryan stepped back in line and gestured for me to do the same. I hesitated, but followed anyway. "I'm actually here with my aunt," I continued once getting back in line.

"Aunt Jen?" Bryan questioned. I involuntarily winced. Over the seven years that the two of us had dated, our families had more or less melted into one giant one. I had only met my aunt a few times prior to that summer and Bryan had been there each time. My aunt had even sent him holiday cards.

"Yeah," I answered while nodding. "I'm actually out visiting her for the summer. She lives up near San Francisco, but we decided to come down here and enjoy the beaches for a little while."

"Wow, Roxy that's great!" Bryan responded. It seemed genuine. A second or so later, the two of us reached the front of the counter. We both ordered as one transaction, however when I took out my wallet to pay for my drink, Bryan slapped it away. "Don't be ridiculous, Roxanne, I've got it."

I didn't want him to have it, though. Bryan and I were broken up, therefore he shouldn't have been paying for a single thing of mine. I was only then starting to become more okay with Billie paying for small things for me and he was more recently my boyfriend.

In the end, Bryan ended up taking my wallet from my hand so that I wasn't able to pay. I scowled at him, but that was really all that I was able to do. He always had been and more than likely always would be stronger than me.

"So how have you been, Roxy?" Bryan asked once we had ordered and were waiting for our drinks to be made. "You look amazing. When did you dye your hair?"

I subconsciously touched my red hair that flowed down over my shoulders. "A week or so ago," I lied. I didn't want him knowing that I did it because I was distraught about our breakup. "Thank you, you uh, you do too," I spluttered. I wasn't lying. He looked amazing. I wasn't going to swoon over him to his face. "I've been pretty good, I can't really complain. How's California been treating you?"

"It's been great," he admitted with a casual shrug, but I could tell that he loved it. Leaving me for California had truly been the best move for Bryan. It stung a bit, but I would be okay.

The two of us received our drinks, both having ordered the same thing. I frowned deeply at the sight of our teas, but didn't say a word. I hated how similar we were. I wanted to shake Bryan from my life so desperately, but it didn't seem possible.

We continued awkward small talk for a few more minutes as we left the building and entered the warm California air again. Bryan had been telling me about lacrosse and all of his teammates, how he'd become friends with most of them already with the exception of a few assholes. I wasn't surprised, Bryan was the exact kind to make friends anywhere he went.

I neglected to tell him about the one friend I had made the entire time I had been in the same state.

Fifteen or so minutes later, my prayers must have been answered because Bryan's phone suddenly started to ring. After ignoring it for a few seconds, he groaned and reached into his shorts pocket to retrieve his phone. "Sorry, I have to take this," he muttered. I waved a hand to tell him not to worry. A minute or so later, he hung up. "I'm so sorry about this," Bryan apologized, "but I have to go. That was my coach, I have practice in a half hour."

"No, no, it's fine," I said while waving a hand at him. It truly was. I wasn't sure how much longer I would be able to stand with the ex love of my life and pretend that I was okay with what was going on. Talking to Bryan had been so familiar. It had felt so much like home to the point where I almost forgot that I wasn't anymore. The moment that realization set in, I knew that I needed to leave. Being heartbroken over one boy was more than enough, I didn't need to add another to it.

"We should meet up, Roxy," Bryan offered with an irresistable smile while tucking his phone back into his pocket. "I miss you, you know" he admitted a second or so later.

My heart skipped at the three words that I had been craving to hear since we had last departed. I had expected hearing them to be so much more rewarding. But truth be told, I realized right then that I had currently been missing someone else so much more.

"I would love that," I agreed with a smile. I didn't mean it, but I wasn't sure what else to say. The last thing Bryan and I needed to do was see each other again, but I didn't have the heart to tell him that.

"Great," he agreed with the same awkward smile on his face, "I'll call you this week? We can go out to dinner."

"Oh perfect," I murmured while nodding my head. The two of us leaned in for possibly the most awkward hug of my life at the exact same time.

Bryan had left only a minute or two later after had embraced, however I had stayed glued to the same exact spot for what felt like hours trying to comprehend what had just happened.

I had been so terrified of running into Bryan the entire time that I had been in California that summer. Billie and my aunt had told me multiple times how ridiculous I was being, yet they were quite obviously incredibly wrong. Luckily, though, despite the strong feeling of nausea I had felt the entire length of the conversation, being around Bryan hadn't been half as horrible as I had anticipated. Truth be told, I was actually okay.

Okay as in that, although I missed Bryan like hell and the feeling of home that came with his presence, I was okay with not being with him anymore. Okay as in that, although a part of me loved seeing Bryan that afternoon because of how much I still loved him, an even larger part of me would have loved running into another man that afternoon because I loved him more.

I loved the way he licked his lips and his hand would twitch when he got nervous to share something with me. I loved the way his eyes would dart from my lips and to my eyes almost every time before he leaned in to kiss me. And oh did I love the way he kissed me. I’d been kissing boys since before I was a teenager, yet every time I kissed him I felt as if it was my first all over again.

I loved the way he smiled and the way he actually giggled everytime he was truly happy or found something truly amusing. I loved how whenever he got angry he would mutter angrily to himself and pinch the bridge of his nose as if it helped to calm him down.

I loved his green eyes and the tattoos that covered his torso and his arms. I loved how short he was and how much he hated when I wore heels when I was around him because he was insecure about his height, but never verbally complained because he knew it was petty.

They say there’s a fine line between love and hate. I had spent my entire week focused upon how much I hated every fiber of Billie’s being. But as I stood on the sidewalk outside of Starbucks with the tea that Bryan had just bought for me, I realized that I had never loved anything or anyone else in the world even half as much as I loved Billie Joe Armstrong.
♠ ♠ ♠
I'm so mortified over how long this has taken me. I'm so sorry, I really am. I got discouraged with it months ago and gave up, and I regret it so much. I don't know if any of you are still here with me, but I'd love to hear from you if you are! Seriously, thank you SO much for sticking with me and my pathetic updates. I love you.