Always There

Billie Joe never returned home that night.

After driving away from Berkeley House, the scenery became a blur of buildings, trees and passing vehicles until the sky became darker and darker, and everything around became more and more sparce.

Before the punk rocker knew it, he was driving by a green sign that read: Welcome To Los Angeles.

Billie Joe remembered the route to the bungalow he kept in the City of Angels like the back of his hand from staying there so much while recording several of the songs from American Idiot. It would be his temporary sanctuary until he could sort through his thoughts properly. But despite the outcome of admitting everything to Adrienne, he had half expected the reaction she'd given him.

Well, everything except for pushing him into the wall in a way that his back cracked a little.

Sometime after three in the morning, Billie Joe arrived to the bungalow and pulled into the driveway. He hadn't packed anything. No clothes, not his iPod, not any of his guitars. He was bound to go insane with boredom because of the lack of the latter. But he had his credit cards, and there were some clothes left in the closet in his master bedroom in the bungalow. That would hold him over until the following day when he could shop.

Kicking the front door closed behind him, Billie Joe turned on the lights in every room he walked through. He hadn't been there since the last time he was in Los Angeles and he hadn't hired a housesitter or cleaning person to take care of the place either, so the bungalow had a slight musty odor to it. Like, a mix between dust, stale beer and wet soil.

When he reached the kitchen and opened the fridge door, he was pleasantly surprised to see one bottle of Budwieser sitting there waiting for him on the top shelf, along with a bag of moldy apples in the cripser below. Taking out the Bud, he shut the door on the apples and uncapped the bottle. But as soon as he downed the first swig, he about choked.

The beer had gone bad.

Spitting the gross contents of his mouth into the sink, he emptied the rest of the bottle into the sink and then chuck the bottle into the garbage.

Billie Joe sighed.

He didn't know what he was gonna do. He'd never been more confused in his life.

On one hand he was so scared of losing all he'd worked for with Adrienne, and the possibility of divorce and her somehow turning into an evil bitch and taking away any chance of any kind of custody of the boys away from him. His marriage and his boys had always been his comfort zone to come home to after touring or whatever else that called for him to be away for any certain period of time. Not having that in his life would be like taking a fish out of water.

Yet, on the other hand, Maria was someone who had come into his life when Adrienne and him had lost contact. She had connected with him on a level that was so unbelievable. Every time he looked at her - when they'd dated almost fourteen years ago at this point, by holding pictures of her in his hands, and now in the present - his heart seemed to jump into his throat. Never in his life had another person made him feel so calm. He may have felt anxiety or had panic attacks before going to see her, but as soon as he was in her presence, he was so sure of himself.

And then there were his children to think about. Joey and Jakob would be confused and hurt if their parents were divorced. Olivia would be happy. But if Adrienne and him were able to work through this, Joey and Jakob would be just fine. The only thing is that he doubted he'd be able to visit Olivia and his child that was seven months away from being born without Adrienne ever being suspicious of him unless she was with him at every moment of every visit. It'd be like supervised visitation with his own children.

And he wasn't even sure what Maria wanted but now wasn't the right time to call her up. He wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone, for that matter.

Sauntering into the living room, he turned on the TV simply for the background noise as he curled up on the couch, lying on his side and closing his eyes. It was like trying to revert into being a fetus, into the womb where there were no outside worries aside from existing. There were no responsiblities; no one to depend on him, to bother him, no record execs from Warner Brothers and Reprise, no concert promoters, no band members.

Just him.

* * *

Having fallen asleep not long after curling up on the couch, Billie Joe was awoken by his cell phone's ringtone going off. But because he was too tired to answer it, the only thing that got him up and moving was the sensation the phone caused when it buzzed from someone having left a voice mail.

Shuddering a little at the feeling, Billie Joe flipped over onto his back and pulled the phone from his pocket, quirking an eyebrow and squinting at the phone as he sleepily pressed some seemingly random buttons that allowed him to listen to the message that had been left.

"Billie. It's Mike. Where the hell are you, man? Adrienne called here this morning and said you never came home. And, uh, she kinda told me about the fight you had."

There was a pause in which Billie Joe could hear Mike clear his throat.

"When were you planning on telling me you knocked up Maria? Let alone you've been sleeping with her? I mean, I dunno. I guess I don't know how you coulda done this. I don't know what you were thinking or even what you're thinking now, but I wish I did 'cause I'd really like to smack some sense into you, then give you a hug. As much as a moron you seem to be right now, I know you're probably just as confused as Adrienne must be. So...uh, give me a call when you get this message, 'kay? Bye."

There was the sound of a click, noting Mike had hung up his end of the phone. Billie Joe sat up and pressed his back against the couch, throwing the phone onto the cushion beside him as he looked at the TV that was still on. He leaned forward and picked the remote off the table and turned it to CNN, then to MSNBC, looking for something worthwhile to watch, but all the stations seemed to be going on about one of the latest car bombings over in Iraq and how a few more American soldiers had been killed.

And for what? Billie Joe wondered.

Shaking his head, he stood up and stretched, heading up the stairs to his bedroom and to take a quick shower. It was about noon so there would be lunch hour traffic when he went out to get some food and buy some clothes. He had no idea how long he was planning on staying in LA, so he needed to get at least a few things.

As soon as his shower was over and he was dressed, Billie Joe headed back downstairs in a sort of trudge with each step he took. He grabbed his cell phone and pocketed it before grabbing his keys from where he last left them. Locking the front door, he walked to his Ford Fairlane and pulled out of the driveway.

The ride to the closest grocery store was quiet, and it was slightly annoying. Turning on the radio, he tried to find a local station that was playing something worthwhile. The first song that came through his car speakers was 'Maria' by Santana featuring Rob Thomas, which caused Billie Joe to frown a little. Turning the station, the next song he heard was 'Daughters' by John Mayer. Turning the station one more time, he could hear was Blink 182's 'Always.'

Was someone trying to tell him something?

Christ, even a radio deejay made mention of Olivia Newton-John. Olivia! His daughter's name was frickin' Olivia, damnit. Everything he heard on the radio seemed to be pointing him in the direction of Maria and Olivia. Yet, when he arrived to the grocery store, he saw a family of four that reminded him so much him and Adrienne when the boys were younger. The young, brunette wife was pushing the cart with a two year old boy in the kid's seat while the brunette husband walked hand in hand with their four year old boy, the parents talking about which box of cereal to buy.

It was like, no matter how hard Billie Joe tried, he couldn't turn away from his problems. One way or another they would shove themselves right into his face.

Frowning once more, he pulled out his cell phone while by the fruits and vegetables. He pressed a few buttons to bring up a number which he had saved, then listened to the ringing sound in his ear while examining a green apple for bruising.

"Hello?" came the male voice on the other end.

"Hey," Billie Joe replied.

"Billie? Where are you?" It was Mike.

"Grocery store."

"Okay. How long are you gonna be there, and which one? I might swing by."

"I'll be gone by the time you'd get here, Mike," Billie Joe commented, throwing two green apples into the plastic bag, then setting them in the weight scale. "I'm kinda in LA right now."

"LA--what? How the fuck d'you get to LA?"

"By car."

"Ha ha, jackass. I mean, why are you there?"

"I didn't know what to do or where to go so I just kept driving until I realized I passed the 'Welcome to Los Angeles' sign at around 3 this morning," the green eyed guitarist admitted.

Mike sighed. "Adrienne's really upset."

"No shit, Sherlock. She kicked me out."

"I don't mean upset as in mad, necessarily. More along the lines of heartbroken and confused. She just doesn't get why any of this had to happen. Why you allowed it to happen."

Billie Joe looked around to make sure no one was staring at him when he turned his back to the anyone in the vicinty. "I can't really talk about this now," he informed his best friend. "I just thought I'd give you a call to let you know I didn't hang myself from the top of Coit Tower."

"Alright, Billie. Then...just give me a call when you get back to wherever and we'll talk. Okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

Before Mike could get a 'goodbye' out, Billie Joe had hung up and repocketed the phone while moving on to the bananas.