No One Knows

While Billie Joe's night on Gilman Street had gone rapidly downhill, Jessie found she was having a surprisingly good time. After completely losing Billie Joe and Mike, she spent the rest of the night hanging out with Tre, and the two of them got on so well, Jessie couldn't believe someone as irritating as Billie Joe could wind up having such nice friends. It just didn't seem fair. Not for the first time, it crossed her mind how little Billie Joe appreciated what he had.

Before she knew it, the club was closing up, and she still hadn't found Billie Joe. She couldn't believe he'd left her to fend for herself all night, if Tre hadn't been there anything could have happened to her.

"Ah, he'll be around, don't worry," said Tre, standing up, "I'll help you find him."
"I'm not worried about him," she frowned, "I'm pissed at him."
"It is kinda harsh that he just fucked off and left you," said Tre, "Especially when you'd never been here before. And you're only sixteen."

Thanks for the reminder, she thought gloomily. But she knew it wasn't like it made a difference. Someone like Tre would never be interested in her anyway.

"Hey you guys!"

Tre and Jessie turned to see Mike coming toward them, and he didn't look too happy.

"Where the hell have you guys been?" Tre asked,
"Billie Joe and Al got in this fight."
"What? Why?"
"He caught Al making out with Billie. As in, the girl Billie."
"Who's 'the girl Billie'?" Jessie asked, confused.
"Billie Joe's girlfriend," Mike explained, hurriedly, "Her name's Billie too. But anyway, Billie Joe caught her with her tongue down Al's throat, and he was absolutely steaming. He threw Al outta the band."

Tre and Jessie looked at Mike in alarm.

"Fuck," said Tre, wide-eyed, "Where's Bill now?"

Mike shrugged.

"He disappeared," he said, "I tried to go after him, but he wouldn't let me, said he wanted to be on his own. I think we should find him though. He's probably drowning his sorrows in a corner somewhere."
"We have to find him," said Jessie, "My Dad would kill him if he knew he'd just left me in the club."

The three teenagers searched the rapidly-clearing club for ten minutes before they found him. It was Mike who saw him first, hunched in the corner by himself, staring at the floor and muttering to himself.

"Mike!" he exclaimed, when he came into view, "Mike, Mike, Mike!"
"Hey, BJ," said Mike, taking in Billie Joe's tense, shivering appearance, "... Are you okay, buddy?"
"I'm great. I'm fine. I'm great, I'm great, I'm great. I'm-"
"Billie, you don't look that great. I think we should go. Everyone's going now... "
"Everyone's going? No they aren't. We have to play. We have to rock. We have to play and fucking rock. WE'RE GONNA FUCKING ROCK!"

Mike put a hand to his forehead in despair.

"Billie Joe, what have you taken?"
"Sobrante's a mother-fucking whore."
"What have you taken Billie Joe?"
"Shit-faced mother-fucker."

Mike looked towards the guy who was sitting nearby.

"Dude, do you know what he's taken?" he asked him
"He was doing coke with some guy before. He had a few lines. He looked like he did it a lot, right?"

Mike sighed. Billie Joe didn't do a lot. Which meant he'd probably had way more than he should have done. He looked up to see Tre and Jessie making their way toward him.

"Great," said Jessie, "You found him. Now let's go."
"Okay," said Mike, "But I'm warning you. It isn't going to be easy. He's coked up to the eyeballs."
"What?!" Jessie exclaimed.

She looked down at Billie Joe. He sat hunched against the wall, clasping and unclasping his hands. His eyes were wide, and he was muttering nonsensically to himself.

"For fuck's sake!" she exclaimed, crossly, "What the hell did he do that for?!"
"It's okay," said Tre, "Don't worry. He'll be okay."
"I don't give a shit if he's okay or not," said Jessie, angrily, "He was supposed to be watching out for me and instead he leaves me by myself while he gets drugged up! Fucker."

She knelt down next to Billie Joe and he turned and looked at her. His pupils were dilated so much that his eyes looked like two black holes. Empty.

"Billie Joe," she said, "We're going home."
"I don't wanna go home," he said, wide-eyed, "I wanna stay here and play. I wanna wanna wanna play. I wanna play. Let me play. Where's Sobrante? Where's Billie? He's fucking her, you know. I know he is. I can tell. Fucking whore. Mother-fucking whore. You know I could kick his fucking ass. I could kick anyone's fucking ass. Mother-fuckers. I'm gonna kick their fucking asses. Cock-sucking mother-fucking cunts-"
"-Billie Joe!" Jessie yelled at him, "Shut the fuck up! Jesus! What's wrong with you?! You're freaking me the fuck out!"

His hair was soaked, and there were beads of sweat running down his body. She grabbed his wrist. She could feel his pulse racing beneath his scorching skin.

"You're a fucking idiot," she hissed at him, releasing his arm again.

He didn't seem to hear her. He just kept talking excitedly to himself, his words running into one another until she couldn't make them out at all.

Mike reached down and grabbed both of his hands, hauling him to his feet. He was unsteady, and for a moment he looked like he was going to fall over, but Tre helped Mike in holding him up. Billie Joe turned and looked at Tre.

"You mother-fucker!" he yelled, "You're fucking her, aren't you! You're fucking Billie?! I saw you! I saw you, you piece of shit! You piece of-"
"-I'm not Al, I'm Tre!" Tre yelled, "Al's gone! He left ages ago. Now shut up so we can take you home!"
"I saw you!" Billie yelled, struggling against Mike's grasp, "I saw you!"
"For fuck's sake, Billie! I'm not Al, I'm Tre! You're hallucinating!"

For a moment Billie Joe looked confused, then he started to fall backwards.

"Oh my fucking God," said Jessie, putting a hand to her head; "I can't believe this."

She was so angry it was unbelievable. In fact, she wanted nothing more than to just leave him on the floor and go home, but she knew she couldn't. He'd probably end up dead if she did.

Mike tried to get Billie Joe's guitar case over his shoulder, but he seemed unable to recognize it and hold onto it, so it just kept on sliding towards the floor. After Tre had rescued it for the second time, he decided it would be best to carry it himself.

Billie Joe's speech started to slow down as they half walked; half carried him out of the club. It didn't help him make any sense though. He was still talking shit. Jessie followed behind the three boys, watching Billie Joe's feet drag on the ground as his legs started to give in, his converse earning yet more scratches.

At the intersection where Mike was due to part company and head towards home, they stopped for a rest. Supporting Billie Joe the whole way had been exhausting, so they sat him down on the ground, leaning him against a wall. His eyes were half-closed, his body limp.

"Billie Joe," said Tre, "You have to stay with us, man, okay?"

No response.

"Billie Joe?"

Jessie let out a hard breath of frustration before kneeling down next to him, grabbing his chin and turning his face towards hers.

"Billie," she said firmly, staring him hard in the eyes. "Listen the fuck up. Don't you dare pass out on us unless you want me to get even more mad than I am already. It is one fucking good job that your Mom isn't home to see you like this... "
"Her name was like my name," he slurred.
"Billie, are you listening to me?"
"Except she wasn't Billie Joe, she was just Billie. She was just Billie but my name's Billie Joe."

Tre smiled wryly.

"He can remember his name," he said, "That's one thing to be thankful for."
"She said it was fate cause my name was like her name."
"Fate's bullshit," said Jessie, curtly, "Now are you gonna wake up and walk home?"
"She said it was fate."

Jessie looked desperately at Tre.

"Don't worry," Tre said, reassuringly, "He's going to be fine."
"He's just coming down," said Mike, "We just have to get him home and hope he doesn't throw up on us. He's going to feel like shit tomorrow."
"Good," said Jessie, standing up, "He deserves to feel like shit."
"I guess I'd better come back with you," said Mike, pulling Billie Joe to his feet again,
"It's okay," said Tre, "I'm going that way, I'll be able to handle him"
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah," he nodded, "I've looked after enough drugged people in my time."

Tre picked Billie Joe's hat up off the floor and put it back on his head. Then he put his arm around him and hauled him forwards. Jessie stood on his other side.

"I'll probably come by and see him tomorrow," Mike said, as started to walk in the other direction. "Look after him okay?"
"Okay," said Jessie, reluctantly. "See you around."

The walk seemed to take forever, and Jessie and Tre didn't say anything the whole way. They just concentrated on holding Billie Joe upright and forcing him to put one foot in front of the other, as they listened to his nonsense ramblings, which were becoming quieter and more slurred. When they got to the Armstrong's front door, they stopped.

"I can handle it from here," said Jessie, "Thanks Tre..."
"Are you sure?" he said, "I can help you get him up the stairs if you want?"
"It's okay," she said, "If I can't get him up the stairs I'll just put him on the couch. I've had my share of experiences with intoxicated people myself you know."

Tre looked up at her, noticing the sad look in her eyes. He knew she was talking about her father.

"Are you going to be alright?" he asked, quietly.

She nodded.

"I already told you," she said, earnestly, "I'll be fine."
"I didn't mean just tonight, with Billie Joe, I meant... "

He trailed off. He didn't know what to say.

"I'll be fine," she said again, her voice dropping to a whisper.
"You know... you were really cool to hang out with tonight," he said, "It was really cool."

Jessie smiled shyly, looking down at the ground, where Billie Joe was finally slipping into unconsciousness. Tre was making her nervous. She knew she had a crush on him, and that he probably knew that himself. But she wasn't used to doing this. It's hard enough to know if someone likes you as a friend or as more, but it was especially hard for Jessie. She'd never really had friends, how the hell was she supposed to know what he was thinking?

"See you around, Jessie," he said, "Maybe you'll come to Gilman Street again some time"
"Yeah," she smiled, "Well... maybe"
"We'll ditch this idiot though right?" Tre grinned, gesturing towards the heap of Billie Joe on the floor.
"Right."

He leaned in and kissed her lightly on the lips. It was brief, but enough to make her heart stop. He grinned over his shoulder at her as he walked away, and she smiled after him, her mind racing.

She took a few moments to regain her composure, before looking back at Billie Joe.
"Come on," she sighed, nudging him awake, "Let's go inside."

It took her a good five minutes to get him up the stairs. She pushed him onto his bed and rolled him over onto his side so that he wouldn't choke on his own vomit. Her kiss from Tre had obviously instilled some new compassion in her, because earlier on the thought of him choking himself would have been a pretty satisfying one.

"You owe me big time," she said to him, as she stood up.
"You smell of lavender..." he mumbled.

She laughed a little.

"You're more fucked up than I thought," she said, "I smell of your sweaty damn punk club, is all."
"Lavender," he insisted.
"Yeah, whatever," she said, dismissively as she left the room. "Try and stay alive till morning, okay? I don't wanna have to explain things to your Mom otherwise."

She turned off the light and closed his door, as she heard his mumblings float through the darkness.

"She said it was fate. You smell like lavender".