No One Knows

The things she'd heard from Eddie about Gilman Street had lead her to prepare for the worst. She knew she was going to hate it. She knew she wouldn't like the music, and she wouldn't like the smell, and the people were going to give her the creeps, so she went with the aim of just getting through Billie Joe's gig without wanting to throttle him too much.

It wasn't what she was expecting. Sure, the place was a shit hole, and the people looked intimidating, and Eddie wasn't lying when he said it smelled like dog piss, but for some reason, she didn't completely hate it. The most confusing part of that was that she couldn't really say why. It might have been the electric atmosphere, the feeling that all of these people came here every night, despite what a dump it was, and felt at home. The thing that surprised her most was the way Billie Joe changed when he walked through the door. She'd never seen him look so happy.

It was obvious that, on Gilman Street, Billie Joe was a respected guy. Even though he was younger than most of the people there, everyone seemed to know him, and want to talk to him, and he was more than willing. She was amazed at how fast the hostile, aggressive smokescreen came down, so much so that you could even be forgiven for thinking he was actually a nice guy. She knew better, of course. He was bound to want to be nice to these people. These were people he needed to impress.

It was ironic that he had complained about having to baby sit Jessie, because the moment he got inside Mahubay Gardens, he may as well have forgotten she was there. While Billie Joe and Al set up the stage and mingled with the crowd, Jessie was left in the back room with Mike, who she was surprised to find actually seemed quite friendly.

"So," said Mike, taking a long drag on a joint Billie Joe had rolled earlier, "This is your first time on Gilman Street, right?"

She nodded.

"So how does it feel?"

She pulled her feet up out of the way as a guy with a blue mohawk and a face full of piercings pushed an amp across the floor past where they were sitting, and out of the door into the main room of the club.

"It's kinda weird," she said, "I mean... I've never been anywhere like this before. It's kinda... "
"Shitty?" Mike guessed, smiling slightly as he blew smoke into the already hazy air.
"Well... yeah," said Jessie, "But... I don't know. I guess the atmosphere is cool. Everybody here seems to love it."
"It's the atmosphere that matters," said Mike, "It makes a place. If the atmosphere's as good as this who cares how much shit there is on the walls and the floor."

She smiled. She wasn't sure she entirely agreed, but she could see his point.

"Are you nervous about playing?" she asked him.
"Yeah... I guess," he said, "It's always nerve-wracking. I mean, we've kinda got a reputation to keep up here now. Y'know? I know that makes me sound like a prick but hey."
"I know what you mean," she assured him. "Does Billie Joe get nervous?"
"Yeah," said Mike, "I think we all do. That's why we smoke so much pot before we get to the stage."

He grinned, and she smiled back.

"So," he said, after a moment's silence, "I hear you and Billie Joe haven't hit it off too good."
"That's one hell of an understatement," she said grimly.
"What's the problem?"
"Everything," she said, "I mean, I know you're his friend and all but seriously... I just can't stand the guy. And he feels the same about me. It's an arrangement that works for now."

Mike smiled, as Billie Joe stuck his head round the door and yelled,
"Come on, Man, we're going on in five"

As Mike stood up, Jessie had the realization that the moment he and Billie Joe went on stage, she was going to be on her own. She followed Mike out into the main room, and took a look at the sea of sweaty punks gathering in front of the stage. That was when she started to feel really scared.

Billie Joe looked down at the crowd as he fixed his microphone onto the stand. He frantically scanned the sea of people and for a moment Mike thought he was starting to worry about Jessie, but then his eyes rested on Billie, who was pushing her way towards the stage, and he rolled his eyes. He should have known better.

"Hey... " Billie Joe grinned, taking her hands in his as she stepped onto the stage.
"Hey BJ," she smiled, putting her arms around his neck. "I can't wait to see you play."
"I can't wait to play," he smiled, as she leaned in and kissed him.

When they broke off, she lay a hand on his bare chest, which was already sticky from the thick, humid air inside the club, and leaned in so that her mouth was next to his ear.

"I think you should come back with me tonight," she said, "I had fun putting you to bed last time... "

Billie Joe groaned. Why did the world have to continuously mock him?

"Billie, you have no idea how good that sounds," he said, "But I can't tonight..."

She frowned in disappointment.

"Why not?" she asked, stroking the hair at the nape of his neck and making him shiver in spite of the heat.
"Cause... " he sighed, "I have to take Jessie home."

She frowned a little more. She stopped stroking his hair.

"Who's Jessie?"
"She's... my Mom's boyfriend's daughter... ."
"Okay... so why do you have to hang out with her?"
"It's complicated. I had to bring her with me cause she's... it's a long story. But I have to take her home, I can't just fuck off to your place. You have no idea how much I want to, but her Dad would kill me. And my Mom would probably join in."
"Where does she live?"
"At my house."
"Wait a minute," said Billie, taking her arms from around his neck. "You've got some other chick staying at your place?"
"Yeah," said Billie Joe, biting his lip. She really didn't look happy about this. "They're staying for a while. Look, next time, I'll come back to your place, okay?"
"Yeah, whatever... " Billie muttered, "I guess I'll see you around when you have the time."
"Billie, don't be like that-"
"Have a good show, Billie Joe," she called as she hopped off the stage and disappeared into the mass of people.
"Fuck!" groaned Billie, putting a hand to his forehead.
"Ah, don't worry, man," said Mike, slapping his shoulder as he passed, "She'll come round. Girls always do stuff like that. You know that."
"Yeah, well, sometimes I wonder if they're more trouble than they're worth."

Despite his anxiety about his romantic situation, everything went out of Billie Joe's mind when he started to play. They opened with 1000 hours, and the feeling he got when people started to sing along - actually sing along! - blew him away. He didn't care about anything else right then, even though his life was screwed up and he had more problems in the back of his mind than he could count on his fingers, he just couldn't take the grin off his face.

Jessie couldn't help but smile either. The fear she'd felt about being lost in a crowd of sweaty punks in a room which was apparently devoid of oxygen fell away when the band started playing and she just got caught up in the atmosphere. She couldn't believe the reaction they were getting. And they deserved to get a reaction. Damn them, but they were good.

Despite her dislike for Billie Joe, she had to admit he deserved to be up on that stage getting the respect that he was getting. He'd obviously worked for it, and he had a lot of talent to boot. She thought back to what Eddie had said, that Billie Joe would probably end up working in a record store and she suddenly realized she didn't want him to. She'd never have thought it at the time, but she wanted him to make it. Because even though she knew what an asshole he could be, anyone could see he belonged up there. It really looked like being on stage was the thing that Billie Joe had been put on earth to do. And nobody deserves to miss out on that.

The crowd started taking craziness to a new level when the band started playing a heavier song, so she fought her way to a clearing at the side where she felt less susceptible to being mashed into a fine paste. She hadn't been standing there long when she felt a tap on her shoulder and turned round to see a pair of familiar blue eyes.

"Hey Jessie."
"Tre..." she smiled.

It was a relief to see a familiar face. Especially a friendly familiar face. She automatically felt happier, just because she wasn't on her own anymore.

"Didn't expect to see you here," said Tre, raising an eyebrow.

His green hair stuck up in every possible direction and she couldn't help but smile at how cute he looked.

"Yeah," she said, "Well, my Dad made me come... cause of my report card."
"Your Dad made you come to a kick-ass punk club because of your report card?"

Tre found that confusing enough in itself, but it was especially weird considering what an ass Billie Joe had made John out to be.

"Yeah, well, they went to Sacramento and didn't trust me to stay grounded so he made me come with Billie Joe... it's a long story."
"Well, it doesn't really matter, I guess," said Tre, with a shrug.

He took a swig of his beer and looked back at the stage.

"So what do you think?" he grinned.
"They're good."
"They are, huh?" he smiled, excitedly. "I love these guys. They totally rock. And they're awesome to jam with. They've completely smoked every other band that's played tonight."
"Yeah," said Jessie, with a nod, "They really have."

Jessie watched the rest of the band's set with Tre, grateful to have some company. She felt a lot safer with a Gilman Street regular looking out for her, and she actually started having fun. Which was satisfying, considering this was supposed to have been a punishment. She hung around with him after the band came off the stage. Billie Joe, Mike and Al seemed to have a lot of equipment to pack up, a lot of hands to shake, and a lot of people to hug and kiss.

Billie Joe was buzzing on his usual adrenaline high after leaving the stage. He went through to the back room to pack his guitar away carefully in his case before he got too drunk and forgot about it. That guitar meant everything to him and he always took every precaution to prevent anything happening to it.

Mike came up to him and put a beer into one of his hands and a spliff into the other, and Billie Joe grinned and threw his arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Thanks, Man" he said, "You played awesome."
"You played better than awesome," said Mike, "You fucking rocked. We fucking rocked."
Billie Joe sat down on top of their PA system, took a swig of his beer, a drag on his joint, and let out a satisfied sigh.

"Fucking awesome," he reiterated.

Mike smiled.

"Seen Billie?" he asked.
"Nah," said Billie Joe, "But it'll be alright. I'll find her in a minute and straighten things out. I don't wanna fight with her... I really like her."
"Yeah, man, I know," said Mike, "But you're right. It'll be ok. Anyone can see she likes you a lot too. She makes that pretty obvious."

Billie Joe sat drinking and smoking in the back room with Mike until he decided he should really go and find Billie before he got too drunk to function, and also check that Jessie hadn't been moshed into the club floor. He pushed himself off the PA system, and told Mike he'd be back soon, then he headed back out into the club.

He spotted Jessie straight away, sitting in the corner with Tre, talking and laughing. He rolled his eyes. Tre obviously hadn't wasted any time there. He just hoped he wasn't going to try anything funny, because the thought of it bothered him, even though he wasn't sure why. He guessed it was because it was kind of like consorting with the enemy. Either way, at least it meant Jessie would be out of his hair while he made up with Billie.

He put his hand out against the damp graffiti-adorned wall to steady himself as he made his way through to the next room, the alcohol beginning to take effect, mingling with the dope to make his legs feel weak.

It took him a while to find her, and he grew anxious that she had left already. He really wanted to see her, he didn't want to just leave things like they had. He mentally kicked himself. Maybe he should have just gone with her like he had wanted to. Jessie probably would have been okay. He could even have gotten Tre to take her home. Then Billie would have been happy. And he would even have gotten some sex out of it. Why did he always manage to screw things up with girls?

He scanned the darkened room. He remembered she was wearing red, so she should stand out, and it wasn't long before he spotted her over in the corner. He sighed with relief as he made his way over to her, and it was only when he got close enough for his drunken vision to focus that his legs started to feel heavy and his breath hitched in his throat.

He watched her press him against the wall, her hands in his hair, her lips against his.

His arms around her, pulling her closer, holding her against him, like he owned her, when he didn't.

Billie Joe felt like his heart had suddenly become this lead weight, pulling him down so that all he wanted to do was curl up on the floor, squeeze his eyes shut and pass out until morning, when she would be gone. How could she do this? He felt like such a fool. He knew they hadn't been serious, they hadn't even talked about being serious, but he thought they at least had something. Something that meant they wouldn't grab random passers-by and shove their tongues down their throats.

He was rooted to the spot for a moment, trying to kick his brain into gear so that he could decide what to do. He had just decided to run in the other direction and get the hell out of the club, when Billie pulled away from her partner. That's when his hurt reached a whole new dimension. This passer by wasn't as random as he thought.

"Al?!"

The two of them looked up, wide-eyed. It was exactly the kind of moment that the old 'deer caught in headlights' expression was made for. They didn't move, not right away, and nor did Billie Joe. He just stood and stared at them, his heart pounding, his mind racing in disbelief.

Al, at least, had the decency to look guilty, sorry even. Billie just looked irritated that she had been caught out. But Billie Joe didn't care how sorry Al was. He was making out with his best friend's girlfriend. Sorry just didn't cut it.

The fucking bastard.

Before he really knew what he was doing he was heading towards the two of them, and Al had let go of Billie and was holding up his hands in surrender.

"Billie Joe... man... I didn't mean to... I didn't mean this to happen, I swear to fucking God, dude"
"How could you?" Billie Joe shouted, "How could you do this to me?!"
"I... I don't... "

Al had no idea what to say. What is there to say when one of your best friends has just caught you red handed, making out with his girlfriend? And the look on Billie Joe's face didn't make it any easier. If he had just been angry, that wouldn't have been as hard to deal with, but the hurt in his eyes killed him.

And then Billie Joe was lunging at him, grabbing a handful of his shirt and raising his fist to react to the betrayal the only way he could think of at the time. His first punch was easy to block. He was drunk, and upset, and off target. Billie Joe was a lot smaller than Al, and Al managed to hold him off pretty well. He landed one decent punch to his lip, splitting it, as Mike turned up and hauled Billie Joe away,

"What the fucking hell is going on, you guys?" Mike yelled, in complete confusion and disbelief.

Not half an hour before, the same two boys had had their arms around each other as they left the stage and now they were throwing punches?

"He's a fucking prick!" yelled Billie Joe,

Al stepped backwards, putting a hand to his bloodied lip, breathing heavily. He turned to Billie, but she was staring at the ground. She stepped up to Billie Joe who was still struggling against Mike's restraint.

"BJ," she said, "I'm sorry... okay? But this was never anything serious. I didn't know you were going to react this way. I thought you knew it was just a bit of fun."

She started to walk away, leaving the boys to fight out the consequences, with Billie Joe shouting after her.

"He's my fucking drummer!" he yelled, "He's one of my best friends! If you were going to act like a fucking slut you coulda done it with someone I didn't know! Bitch... ."
"Al!" exclaimed Mike, realizing the situation for the first time, "How could you do this, man? You knew how much Bill liked her!"
"Cause he's a piece of shit!" Billie answered for him, his voice cracking with emotion, "He's a cock-sucking piece of fucking shit. I'm pissed off about her, but its nothing compared to how I feel about you. She's a bitch but I barely knew her. She didn't care about me as much as you were supposed to! I've known you for years, you're supposed to be one of my best friends! What she's done is nothing compared to what you've done!"
"Billie Joe!" Al pleaded, "I'm sorry, I swear. If there's anything I can do to make it up to you-"
"You can get the fuck outta my band for a start," said Billie Joe, "You haven't cared about it anyway, not like me and Mike have. And soon you'll be at college starting a new life with your new buddies and good riddance. Cause now you need some new buddies. You can get the fuck out!"

Al looked down. He had asked for that. He avoided Mike's eyes as he walked away. He felt bad enough as it was without Mike making him feel any worse. Mike could defend Billie Joe to the bitter end.

When he had gone, Mike grabbed Billie Joe's shoulders, holding him up and steady, staring him in the eyes.

"BJ... man... you need to breathe... "
"I am fucking breathing!" he panted.
"Breathe slowly. He's gone, okay?"

Billie Joe nodded, anger and hurt still coursing through his veins. He took his baseball cap off his head and wiped his brow.

"C'mon, Man," said Mike, giving his damp hair an affectionate rub, "I'll take you home... let's go find Jessie."
"No... " said Billie Joe, putting his hat back on his head, "I wanna be on my own."
"Billie Joe... I don't think... "
"I wanna be on my fucking own, Mike!" he yelled, "I'll come and find you later"

Mike sighed, releasing Billie Joe's shoulders as he pulled from his grasp, swaying slightly as he turned away and pushing his way through the crowds till he was obscured by people.

He pushed his way across the room to the side of the stage, where he slumped against the wall, pulled his knees up to his chest and put his head in his hands. He needed to get a grip. He had only known Billie a couple of weeks, and it hurt, but he knew he'd get over losing her eventually. Losing his band though... that wasn't something he was going to get over in a hurry. He fought back the tears that were threatening to surface. Breaking down and crying in the middle of the club probably wouldn't be the best way to keep up his punk rock image.

He felt someone sit down beside him and looked up to see a guy with black dreadlocks and a lip ring watching him.

"Hey kid," he said, "You were fucking great up there tonight. Why the long face?"

Billie Joe looked back down at the floor.

"I don't really wanna talk about it, man."

The guy nodded.

"That's ok, dude," he said, "I understand. You know it helps talking about your problems though. You should talk to my friend Charlie. That's who you should talk to."
"Really... " Billie Joe muttered, wishing the guy would leave him alone.
"Yeah... Charlie's great like that. I've never had a single problem Charlie couldn't solve, y'know."
"Great... "
"You want Charlie to solve your problem?"
"I don't think he could do that, dude. Look, I really wanna be on my... "

As he looked over at the guy, he watched him pull a baggie of white powder out of his pocket. He tipped the contents onto a piece of paper and started to cut it into lines with a knife.

"So kid," he said, without looking up from what he was doing, "You gonna let Charlie take your problem away?"