A Ballad For Beulah

Mike had asked Beulah to come with him and be his date for the American Music Awards held on the 22nd of November at the Shrine Auditorium in LA, but she was so nervous about seeing Adrienne there with Billie Joe and something slipping out about Bailey, that she turned down his offer, despite really wanting to go.

Instead, she sat at home, watching the awards show on television like any other viewer with nothing better to do.

The guys did take home an award and it literally wasn't five minutes after her and Bailey watched them on stage giving their acceptance speech, that her phone began to ring.

Furrowing her brow with mild confusion over who might be calling, Beulah lifted the receiver to her ear and muttered, "Hello?"

"What are you wearing right now?"

Letting out a laugh, she curled her feet up under her and smiled. "Wouldn't you like to know..."

"Yes, yes I would. That'd be why I asked."

"Michael Ryan," Beulah chastised playfully.

Yes, it was Mike calling.

"Beulah Rochelle," he shot right back at her, boyish charm in his voice.

"Where exactly are you calling from right now?"

"Backstage at the show," Mike replied. "You watching?"

"Un-huh. Congratulations."

"Thanks."

Mike looked over to where Billie Joe and Tre were getting ready to have their pictures taken with the award by photographers and reporters asking questions, so the bassist didn't have much time to continue to conversation. He just wanted to hear her voice, was all.

"I still wish you'd have come," he added.

"I know, but...it's too weird."

"When's it going to be not weird, Beulah?" he inquired, his tone transitioning into slight seriousness.

Beulah shrugged. "I dunno, Mike."

A moment of awkward silence fell over them before Mike finally spoke up with a small sigh. "Well, I gotta go. Pictures to be taken and fun shit like that," he informed. "I'll call you later."

"Alright."

"See you soon."

"'Kay," she muttered.

After a short pause, Mike hung up, pocketed his cell phone and walked over to the guys who were waiting on him to join them. They began to flash smiles and pose somewhat idiotically when Billie Joe whispered to his best friend without really moving his lips much for the sake of some reporters being able to read lips.

"Who were you talking to?"

"Beulah," Mike answered simply, turning his head in one direction as the guys followed suit.

"Why are you getting so involved with her?"

"Because I care about her."

"I take it Brittney's completely out of the picture then, huh? Even though you still have her name tattooed inside your elbow..."

"Fuck off, Bill. I haven't had the time to get it removed or fixed."

"Sure, okay," Billie Joe muttered, grinning a little for a photographer to his left.

"Why do you care so much about why I'm getting close to Beulah or not?" Mike asked, finally turning away from the cameras and staring at his friend's profile.

"Dude, not now," the guitarist whispered, getting a little anxious about the photographers taking note of any grievance between the two of them as he showcased the award in his hands for the sake of the picture-taking.

"Why not now?" Mike egged on. "Now's as good a time as ever."

"Dudes," Tre piped up in a lowered voice. "Can we finish this later?"

"No," Mike snipped now. "I think I want the world to know," he added.

Billie Joe's nervous glance flitted over to Mike, very sure the photographers and reporters had noticed something wrong, given that the two of them weren't looking at anyone but each other.

"Don't you dare."

"Why, Bill? Scared Adrienne will find out?"

"Shut up..." Billie Joe snipped, handing off the award to Tre. "Let's go," he muttered before walking off; the photographers and reporters calling out questions and pleas for more pictures and what was wrong.

Mike walked off with him, leaving Tre still standing before everyone, holding their award, but then turning and leaving as well, catching up to his friends in time to hear Mike starting to lay into him, and they weren't even out of complete earshot of the damned reporters.

"Why do you fucking care, Billie?"

"Because she's my---"

"Your what? Your lover? Your mistress? The mother of your bastard son?" Mike demanded an answer, the anger on his face very clear. "Goddamnit, Billie Joe, she is not yours to have. She never was, and never will be. In truth, Bailey shouldn't even be here, but you couldn't keep you fucking cock in your pants!"

As the three of them moved out of the room, and out of eyesight from the reporters and photographers, Billie Joe took a swing at Mike, hitting his friend in the jaw, which only garnered the attention of security standing nearby.

"She's your throwaway, Billie. You used her, and threw her the fuck away and you don't even care!" Mike added as he shoved Billie Joe. "I asked her to come here tonight to be with me and she really wanted to, but she won't because she's nervous for you," he added, emphasizing 'you' as if it were a disgusting word.

Billie Joe shoved Mike back, only for the bassist to uppercut him in the chin, causing him to stumble backward a little. For a moment, the green eyed guitarist could've sworn he was seeing stars as he blinked a few times.

"I can't have Adie know because I love her too damn much to wreck things."

"Too fucking late, asshole," Mike seethed. "The more you lie to her and keep it all a secret, the more hurt Adrienne will be when she finds out. And believe me, she will find out."

Shoving Billie Joe once more, Mike turned to walk away just as Billie Joe lunged, but Tre was quick to react so that he could hold the guitarist back.

"What the fuck's wrong with you, Billie?" Tre demanded. "Get your head straight. Like we need the world to know about you two acting like shitheads. Do this on your own damn time."

Tre shook his head and glared with disappointment, shoving the award into Billie Joe's hands before walking off in the same direction Mike had just gone.

* * *

It was the first week of December when Beulah saw Billie Joe next.

He showed up slightly unannounced, even though he had said he'd be coming sometime in the earlier part of the month. He just didn't give an exact date or time.

He spent time with Bailey as usual, but it was clear to Beulah that something was up with the father of her son.

Everything he looked at her, it was as if he was trying to burn holes into her head and it made her uncomfortable, to say the least, even though he acted civil and pleasant toward her.

His eyes were just that intense.

It wasn't until the day Billie Joe was going to leave to head back home to the Bay area that whatever was driving him crazy, came to a head.

Beulah was simply washing a few cups in the sink while Bailey watched some cartoons, which distracted the boy from the fact that his father was about to leave.

Billie Joe stepped up behind her, standing in the archway to the kitchen, one hand on the door frame, the other shoved in his pocket as she felt his eyes on her.

Turning her head, she met his gaze halfway and she swallowed a little nervously.

"Yeah?"

"You like it when Mike fucked you?" he asked out of the blue.

"Did I--what? Billie, that's not something---"

"---That concerns me?" he finished for her. "Actually it does. Anything that could potentially affect my son, concerns me," he replied. "If you're gonna have Mike walking around here like a father figure, then you can forget it. He's not gonna replace me."

Beulah's face fell. "Replace you?" she repeated. "Billie, you'd have to actually be here more often to be replaced."

"Don't be a smartass, Bee."

"I...I'm not trying to be," she insisted, honestly, her voice a little shaky. "You're never here. Do you want me to lie and say you are so it makes you feel better?"

Taking a few steps forward closed the gap between the two of them so that Beulah could now feel his hot breath breathing on her neck as he craned his head to whisper in her ear.

"I'm not a complete, ignorant prick," he growled. "As much as it kills me, I know that my wife will eventually find out, 'cause it's inevitable. And when she does, as much as I hope it doesn't, I'll..."

"You'll what?" she cut in, nervously.

Billie Joe pulled back, sighed, and shrugged. "Not sure," he answered rather simply. "But don't think I'm gonna come crawling to you if Adie kicks me out, because I love her. Always have, always will. And I will do whatever it takes to make sure her and I stay together until the day I die. So, don't think, for one minute, I'll try and find solace in your arms."

Beulah felt like she'd been smacked across the head with an anvil. Her chin began to quiver and her heart felt like it had been ripped to shread, covered with cement and then dropped into the Pacific Ocean.

And he wasn't even done yet.

"I know how you look at me with hope and adoration in your eyes, but I don't love you, Bee," he muttered, his face an inch from hers. "Sure, I care about your well being, because you're a great person, but I could never love you the way you've wanted me to all these years. You think you'd have figured that out by now."

Beulah's lurched a little as her chest became slightly wracked with a sob that wouldn't form yet.

"Those times we fucked, and you said you loved me, I never repeated that. Because I couldn't lie that I did. And that whole 'Love ya too, babe' thing...it was platonic. Not heartfelt."

"S-so...so I was just a piece of ass for when you were drunk or pissed off at your wife? Nothing more?"

Billie Joe dipped his head and shook it. "Nothing more," he admitted. "I wanted to believe perhaps we were friends, but friends don't do what we did." Then he amended that statement with, "What I did."

Tears were falling down Beulah's face, and it tore slightly at Billie Joe's heart.

Sure, he didn't love her like a wife or a girlfriend, but it didn't mean he didn't care at all.

"I'm sorry, but I can't continue letting you believe we could ever stand a chance," he muttered. Lifting an arm, he cupped her face with a hand, forcing her to look up at him. "So, for your sake and mine...stop hoping."

With that, Beulah's tears began to fall and she didn't hide them. She turned her face away from his so that he wouldn't look at her, despite crying openly, while he studied her profile.

After a moment, he shifted his body and turned to step out of the kitchen, only to stop in his tracks and look down at the sight of Bailey pouting up at him.

Crouching down so that he was eye level with his son, Billie Joe offered a small smile. "Hey, Bailey," he began. "I gotta get going, so can I get a hug?"

Bailey didn't move. He folded his short arms and shook his head, continuing to pout.

"Whatsa matter?" Billie Joe inquired. "C'mon, gimme a hug," he added with a hopeful smile.

"You made mommy cry," Bailey muttered bitterly. His chin quivered in a way that was very similar to Beulah; scrunching up his nose to keep from crying, himself. "You said you don't love her," he blurted. "Daddies are supposed to love Mommies but you don't love her."

"Bailey, I---"

"So, you can't be my Daddy."

Billie Joe's green eyes widened with a new brand of fear he'd never felt before.

The fear of your child no longer loving you.

His jaw clenched, his eyes cast solely upon his son, the punk rocker reached his arms out to take Bailey's hands in his, but Bailey jerked away and shoved Billie Joe back as hard as his body could.

"Go away!" Bailey shouted in his father's face. "You never wanna be here anyway, so go away and leave my Mommy alone!"

Beulah turned her head and wiped her tears with the palm of her hand as she looked down at her little boy. "Bailey, honey..."

"Go away!" Bailey shouted, getting right in his father's face.

And Billie Joe had never been so scared of a child before as he pulled his face back, blinking away his disbelief that a child -- his child -- who was only four and three quarters, was shouting at him, and not even backing down.

Well, he was definitely his son. Couldn't deny that fact, but it also didn't make Billie Joe feel better, given the circumstance.

"Bailey, enough," Beulah continued.

In a swift movement, Bailey kicked Billie Joe in the knee and scampered off toward his bedroom, slamming the door behind him while Billie Joe remained crouched down and rubbing his knee. Dipping his head, the punk rocker bit his upper lip.

He hadn't expected any of that.

To feel so horrible and to feel so scared about losing the love of a son he didn't even deserve.

Pushing his own tears back and hollowing his emotions, Billie Joe stood up, turned to look at Beulah and didn't even say a word as he stepped out of the kitchen.

Rubbing his right hand in a sideways position from his nose down to his chin, he walked to the apartment door in a bit of a daze as he was sure he heard Beulah mutter his name at least once.

But, without a word, Billie Joe just left the apartment.

* * *

To say that Billie Joe was like a zombie during the days that followed his visit to Vegas, would be an understatement.

Adrienne had no clue why her husband was so distant and forlorn. Not even Mike or Tre, because the green eyed guitarist simply wouldn't divulge what was going on in his head.

He held it all in and went about his daily routine like he were just a tad dead inside.

When the guys headed to Australia for two concerts on the 14th and 17th, Mike would catch Billie Joe staring off into space, as if he were asleep with his eyes open.

He was unmoving, and looked rather depressed, and when Mike tried to ask what was up, Billie Joe would only shrug and go about doing something.

Playing the shows, Billie Joe seemed completely normal, because being on stage brought the frontman to life in a way nothing else could. He was vivacious and laughing, feeding off the energy of the crowd. But as soon as the show ended, and he was backstage, he was back to who he'd been beforehand.

He was simply putting on a show for the fans. They were there for him and the guys; adored them unconditionally because of what their music meant to them and how it made them feel.

He wasn't obligated to them for any other reason than to play music and play a concert.

Not like his friends and family who he was obligated to in more ways than that.

And Mike knew something was up, seriously, when, on the flight back home to the States, somewhere over the Pacific, that he saw Billie Joe sitting with a hand over his eyes, trying to keep anyone from noticing he was crying.

Billie Joe was rather discreet like that.

He never made a noise when he cried and didn't want anyone to know he was doing so. He made it look like he was simply resting or thinking.

But judging by the way his breaths were shorter instead of more rhythmic, and the tear Mike spotted slipping from underneath his fingers, Mike knew better.

Something was eating at his best friend, and he was sure he had an inkling as to what it was about.