Not Just Any Whatsername

“I swear to god Mike, I am going to take your bass and stick it where the sun don’t shine if you don’t stop doing that, you got it?”

Mike rolled his eyes as Tre threw another drum stick at him. “Doing what? Breathing? Or maybe just sitting quietly, minding my own business?” he said, examining the dirt under his nails.

“I’ll tell you what you were doing, you were-” Tre began, sitting upright on the sofa and pointing a finger at Mike.

“Knock knock…?” a voice came from the door, cutting into Tre’s words.

The two men looked up; jerking their heads quickly from the glares they had been exchanging to see Alex standing at the door, a look of amusement on her face.

A lopsided grin broke out on Tre’s face as he saw her. Rising up from the lounge, he attempted to scramble over the armrest instead of being a normal person and getting off the lounge. Grabbing the material of the lounge, he pulled himself towards Alex, attempting to launch himself off the lounge. As he did so, the toes of his black Converse caught in the folds of the cushions, causing him to tumble head first over the side of the lounge.

Mike crawled to the edge of the piece of soft furniture, peering down at Tre, Alex looking down on him from her place at the door.

Jumping up, Tre quickly smoothed out his brightly coloured hair. “I’m OK!!” he announced as though it was the most important thing in the universe, spreading his arms out.

“Unfortunately…” Mike muttered from his place on the couch, flipping through the channels on the television, not looking at Tre.

“Shut up Michael.” Tre turned to the bassist, sticking his tongue out as he did so, giving him an almost cartoonish appearance as he flipped his friend off. Then, turning to Alex he smiled again. “I don’t think I said hello…”

She chuckled softly. “I don’t think you did…” she murmured wrapping her arms around his neck as his hands came to rest on her hips.

Tre dipped his head, bringing his lips down to meet those of the shorter woman. They stood there in the doorway, lips connected, and content to see each other after almost a month. The pair had been separated for a majority of their relationship, each having prior commitments that took them out of the state.

“Can you get a bloody room and stop making out in the fucking hallway?”

The two broke apart, looking for the source of their distraction.

“Oh, hi Billie.” Alex blushed, looking over her arms and over at the dark haired singer, who was shuffling across the tiled floor, wearing only a pair of plaid pyjama pants and rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Alex.” He nodded, acknowledging her as he walked past her, not bothering to open his eyes. Seating himself on the lounge, he reached over and took Mike’s coffee from his grasp, gulping down a good portion of it, ignoring the fact that it was still steaming hot.

“What’s on TV?” Alex asked the two men on the lounge as she and Tre attempted to settle comfortably on the armchair next to the couch.

“Friends Marathon…They’re showing the first three season’s one after the other, all day.” Mike answered, taking his coffee back from Billie and downing some more of it, still staring at the television screen, watching Ross get attacked by a ginger cat, his cries ignored by his friends who were content in singing ‘Top Of The World’.

“Oh, The One With The Blackout? I love this one.” Alex stated, throwing her weight around the armchair in an effort to get comfortable.

“You know the name of this one…freak…”

“Billie, bite me.”

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“Seriously you two, will you get a fucking room? Some of us don’t want to look at that this early in the morning.” Mike grumbled at the two occupants of the armchair, who were ignoring the fact that there were other people using the oxygen in the room.

“Huh?” Tre’s gaze moved to his band mates, a slightly dazed expression on his face.

“Get a room.”

“Gladly.” Jumping up, Tre grabbed Alex’s hand and pulled her from the room, running towards his room.

“Fucking animals.” Mike muttered to Billie as he heard the door to Tre’s bedroom slam behind them.

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“How was your holiday?” Tre asked the dark haired woman as she lay next to him on the bed, her head propped on her elbow, looking down at the drummer as she began to trace small patterns on his muscular torso.

“Yeah it was fun…though I think I permanently scarred myself in some places…” she answered, giggling as he looked at her with a strange look on his features, a look of curiosity and bewilderment. “I got into a few fights with Alison…”

“I’m listening…Do any of these fights involve whipped cream or mud?”

“Ugh…You pig.” She growled at him, socking him lightly in the chest with her fist.

He bit his lip grinning up at her, shoulders shaking as he tried to contain his laughter. “Aww, come on…can’t you go along with it, just to make me and my ass jump for joy…”

“Men…” Alex snorted under her breath, moving so she was sitting up with her back against the headboards of the bed. “If you must know, she threw a giant clam shell at me and now I have a massive cut on my back.”

“Why’d she throw a clam shell at you?”

“I may have taken her lunch one day and thrown it to the seagulls when she went to the bathroom…But she deserved it…” Alex shrugged nonchalantly, her eyes rolling up and flickering around the ceiling. “That’s the reason Allie and I don’t live together. We’d kill each other if we had to be in the same house for more than 48 hours together.”

“I wonder why, because you’re both such mellow, easygoing people. I can’t imagine you would fight…” Tre sat up, a look of mock surprise upon his face, obviously fighting a smile.

“I hate you.” Alex glared down at him, her lower lip sticking out in a pout. Then folding her arms, she turned her head away from him, apparently amused by the paint chips in the ceiling.

“You can’t hate me…” Tre told her, crawling up so he was face to face with her, and closed the gap between them, elbowing her in the side.

“And why not?” she turned to him, one eyebrow raised and an amused look on her face.

“Because…” he began, and then suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders forcing her to lie down on the bed and positioning himself so that he was almost sitting on her. “I have such a hot ass.”

Fighting back a smile, she rolled her eyes. “Can we go just one day, or one conversation without mentioning your ‘super hot ass’?”

Grinning, he shook his head. “No can do amigo. After a month, you should know that my ass and all things related are automatically included in the conversation.”

“Whatever. Can you get off me now? You’re cutting off my air supply…”

“Oh really?” A devilish look came upon his face, as if he were contemplating doing something in his mind. “I guess I’ll need to give you mouth to mouth then…”

Laughing softly, she rolled her eyes again. “Your pickup lines suck, by the way.”

“Shut up…”

“Make me.”

“Gladly…”

Tre lowered his head and brought his lips to meet hers. Grinning into the kiss, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her.

“I still hate you, you know that right?”

“Whatever you say chica…”

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“Did you change the pink in your hair?” Tre asked the woman below him as they lay together on his bed. Resting his head on her stomach, he looked up at her, fingers toying with the buttons on his button down shirt that she was now wearing.

“It’s taken you all day to realise what was pink last time you saw me is now purple?” Alex grinned as she ran her hand through Tre’s thick hair, twisting random bits around her fingers. “Jeez, shows how observant you are…”

“Yeah, well maybe I wasn’t looking at your hair, per say.” Shaking his head, he grinned to himself and shimmied off her stomach, lying so that his head was next to her legs.

He heard her yawn as she rolled over onto her stomach, the shirt riding up her legs a little. Sliding her hands under the pillow, she rested her head on the cool surface of the pillow case.

Tre grinned to himself and adjusted himself so that he was on his side, so that he could look at her. Looking at her legs, his gaze fluttered up so that it landed on her thighs, where he could see some curios marks.

Bringing his head closer to inspect them, he squinted, his eyes still adjusting to the dim light. There were many of the same marks repeated in different locations, from her upper thigh to halfway down. Some of them were larger than others and some appeared to be different shapes, and each was a light pink colour.

Scrunching up his eyes, he wondered to himself what they were. Suddenly, the truth hit him like a tonne of rocks being thrown at his stomach.

They were scars. They weren’t ordinary scars you get from a scratch on the edge of a table, or scars from your annoying brother digging his nails into your thigh to see if he gets a reaction from you. These were the scars you got when you purposely want to hurt yourself, the scars you get when you cut yourself.

But, looking closer, he saw that some of them were much larger and unable to have been made from a blade. They were the scars that had obviously been there a long time, and had only come up after an action had been repeated many times.

These were the ones that made him wonder the most. He had to find out. He had to know why the ever happy Alex had the scars that were caused from years of sorrow, pain and angst.

“Alex…” he choked out, his mouth dry with surprise.

“Yeah?”

He swallowed, hoping that he would be able to ask her about what he’d seen. He opened his mouth, but then shut it again, unable to ask the question.

“Nothing…never mind.”

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“Ross is a fucking asshole!!” Billie Joe snorted, throwing a piece of popcorn at the television set as they watched Ross and Rachel fight over their sabotaged relationship.

“Pass the popcorn Billie.” Alex said from her position on the couch. She and Tre were sitting on the lounge, Tre lying against the back and Alex lying in front of him, his arm draped over her shoulder.

Not taking his eyes from the screen, Billie passed the large bowl of popcorn over his shoulder and onto the lounge.

“You know,” Alex began, gesturing to the screen with a piece of popcorn. “That chick that Ross sleeps with is that Linda person from the Wedding Singer?”

Suddenly Mike sat up, slapping his thigh. “That’s where I’ve seen her before!!” Then, Realising they were all looking at him with amused looks on their faces, he sank back into the armchair he was occupying and began to sip his coffee, his gaze oddly fixated with the screen.

Shaking her head, Alex got up from the couch and walked out of the room, heading to the bathroom, leaving the three men to sit in silence.

Tre, who had been uncharacteristically quiet since he and Alex had come out from his room, looking slightly rumpled, sat up, biting his lip. “Guys, can you keep a secret?” he asked his friends, eyes quickly darting to and from the door.

“Yeah, sure…whatsup?” Billie and Mike moved closer to their drummer, concerned looks on their faces.

“Before, when we were in my room, I noticed a whole bunch of scars on Alex’s leg. Not normal scars, but scars from cuts, as in cuts you make when you’re depressed, when you want to die. And I saw ones that didn’t look like they had been made by a blade or something sharp, but by something else, something I don’t know what…”

Billie whistled under his breath. “Shit…She doesn’t look like she would’ve had anything to cut about…Has she said anything to you about it?”

Tre shook his head. “She doesn’t know I’ve seen them. She usually keeps her legs covered…”

Billie shrugged. “Look, take it from someone who knows, if she doesn’t want you to know about them, she won’t tell you. If she wants to tell you, she’ll tell you in her own time. Just, whatever you do, don’t ask her about them.”

“Yeah, I guess…”

Shaking his head, he relaxed back into the lounge, breathing in the scent of the soft leather. He bit his lip again, eyes rolling up in thought as he sipped at the beer he had left on the floor.

“Whatcha thinkin ‘bout?”

Tre looked up; Alex was crawling back onto the lounge, settling herself back up against him, taking the beer from his hands and taking a sip of it.

“Watch the brew!!” Tre growled, snatching the Corona away from her. “My beer. You no touch.”

“Uh yeah, Alex, you don’t take food or drink from Tre…” Billie began, trailing off to the end of his sentence. “That’s a good way to lose some fingers.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Alex said, grinning at Billie, as she picked up the popcorn bowl, picking up random pieces and inspecting them in the light before she put them in her mouth.

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“Look, I don’t give a fuck what you say, but they were on a break. Trust you to side with the chick.”

Alex and Mike were sitting at opposite ends of the coffee table, debating over the question of were Ross and Rachel really on a break when he slept with the girl from the copy place?

“They were not on a break, they were just…I don’t know…Not speaking to each other.”

“Same shit, different smell.” Mike snorted, snatching the bowl of popcorn away and settling down in the armchair again.

“Boys…” Alex mumbled to herself, leaning on the couch as she sat on the floor, Tre running his hand over the top of her head. “And stop patting me Tre, I aint a dog.”

“Well, you’re a bitch, so I assumed you were a dog.” Tre mumbled, gaze still fixated on the T.V screen.

“Meanie.” Alex said, trying to hide the grin that was threatening to appear as she crossed her arms and rested them on her knees.

“Hey, Alex…”

She looked up, her eyebrows raising as she gave Billie a sign that she’d heard him, slapping Tre’s hand away as he resumed the patting of her head.

“Does Allie have a…boyfriend?” he asked her, shaking the hair that had fallen in his face away from his eyes, trying not to appear too interested.

“Not that I’m aware of…She doesn’t have boyfriends, she has males that she brings to her apartment and mauls them alive….I’m kidding.” She added as Billie gave her a weird look. “No, she doesn’t have a boyfriend. Why do you ask?”

“Just asking…”

Mike rolled his eyes as he tossed pieces of popcorn into the air, catching them in his mouth. “Please,” he snorted. “You told me that night after Tre was drunk off his ass that you thought she was so hot, you cried yourself to sleep.”

Billie stopped in the middle of sipping his beer, eyes growing wide as he shot daggers at Mike, cheeks growing red. “I’m gonna kill you Michael Ryan Pritchard.” He mumbled, throwing the cap of his beer bottle onto the floor.

“What is it with people and using my full name today?” Mike asked confusedly, shovelling the remaining popcorn into his mouth, seeds and all.

Alex rolled her eyes, leaning onto the coffee table as she looked at Billie. “Aaaww…Does Billie have a little crush on Alison?” she asked, batting her eyelids.

“No…I just think that she’s a…nice person.” Billie forced out, avoiding eye contact with the other occupants of the room.

“Billie speak for ‘I’d like to fuck her.’” Tre mumbled from his spot on the lounge, draining his beer bottle.

“Shut up.” The young woman said to him, slapping him on the leg. “I think it’s cute.”

“You do?” Billie asked, leaning forward curiously.

“Yeah, I do. Maybe you should come out for some beers with us tonight. It’s our alcohol night.”

“Maybe I will…”

Suddenly, Tre sat up. He had been still and unnaturally silent all day. He had been arguing with his conscience over the fact of whether he should listen to Billie and ignore the cuts, or to confront her and face the consequences.

“Alex, I saw the scars on your leg, before, in the bedroom.”

The entire room fell silent, the other two members of Green Day whistling under their breaths, Alex regarding the drummer with a look of surprise, anger and embarrassment.

“You what?” she hissed under her breath.

“Saw the scars on your leg. I want to know what and when they’re from.” He stood up, crossing his arms over his torso, his face serious as a doctor performing surgery.

Alex let out a breath shakily, also rising, folding her own arms and glaring at the man before her.

“Wow…awkward. Hey, Mike, don’t we have to…uh….meet my mom for dinner?” Billie broke the awkward hush that had fallen over the room, gesturing to Mike and hurrying for the door, ignoring the fact he was going commando in a pair of sweatpants.

“Oh, was that today?” Mike answered, getting the hint and running out the door after the shorter man.

The angry pair barely regarded them as the door slammed behind them, still glaring at each other.

“Look Tre, it’s none of your business, so I don’t know why you’re asking.” Alex told him, shaking her head.

“Because I’m fucking worried, that’s why. Why can’t you tell me?” He asked her, following her as she stormed into his bedroom, looking for her bag and jacket.

“Because Tre,” she said, hastily zipping her jacket up, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “There are some things you don’t mention, and some things you don’t ask about. And believe it or not, there are some things other people don’t like sharing. Goodbye.”

Then, giving him a final glare, but one that was mixed with a look of worry, she hurried out of the house, hair flying behind her.

“Are we still on for beers tonight?” Billie called after her from the front door, leaving Tre standing in shock, eyes rolling back into his head, cussing to himself as he realised the severity of what he’d done.