An Eternal Promise

I was pulled out of my peaceful slumber at approximately half past 10 ‘o clock in the morning.

A hand grasped my shoulder and shook me vigorously. I threw my pillow over my head in an attempt to ignore it, but my efforts were fruitless. Through my subconscious thoughts I could hear faint laughter, and as I felt myself roll off the mattress my head became acquainted with the hardwood floor .

“Fuck!” I cursed loudly. My head was pounding and a surge of pain throbbed in my temples.

“Mike, are you ok?”

I slowly looked up and came face to face with my best friend of ten years and roommate, Billie Joe. I should have known that it was him who had been trying to wake me; Tré was away visiting his parents and hadn’t been here for a week.

“Just wonderful,” I grumbled. The floor seemed to sway under my feet as I stood up. My vision was blurred from the dizziness and I slumped back on the bed. He sat down next to me and rested his hand on my shoulder.

“You weren’t supposed to fall off the bed,” he grinned sheepishly.

“If I remember correctly, you pushed me.”

“Nah,” he retorted with a twinkle in his eye. “I just…nudged you a bit.”

I rubbed my forehead and he looked at me apologetically. Headache or not, there was no way I could ever be even so much as annoyed with him, let alone angry. All he has to do is flash that adorable little smile of his and getting away with murder could become an easy task.
“I brought you some coffee,” he said.

That’s typical. Injure me and then bring me the one of the few things I can’t live without as a peace offering.

I gladly took it from him and raised the cup to my lips. Warm liquid poured into my mouth and left that sharp, bitter taste lingering in the back of my throat that I had become accustomed to. At first the whole point of drinking coffee had been to aid me in cutting down on cigarettes. That failed, and by the time I knew I was always going to be a smoker I had a caffeine addiction too.

“Thanks, BJ. Just the way I like it,” I said. “But anyway, why was I so rudely woken up this early?”

“It’s a surprise,” he whispered suggestively in my ear. This confused me. Mixed signals were pretty much all I ever got from Billie.

He came out of the closet three years ago, when we were 17. I was shocked and slightly uncomfortable at first, but he promised me that although he was bisexual he would never be interested in me. I was his best friend, practically a brother, and that would be strange for the both of us.

He stayed true to his promise, but only on the outside. His mind was a whole different world. I had known from the beginning that, no matter how many times he denied it, Billie Joe Armstrong was falling in love with me. It was so obvious. Blatant, almost. I could see his interest in me, worn on his face like a mask, a burning desire alive in his eyes every time he looked at me.

Like now. Out of the corner of my eye I could see his large olive green ones staring over at me, glimmering with reflected sunlight that was streaming in through the window.

So beautiful…

“What am I thinking?” I asked myself.

I had done everything to convince myself that I wouldn’t let myself get wrapped up in this. I’m straight, I thought to myself. I like women, and only women. Not men, and especially not my own best friend.

I can’t be in love with my best friend…….

“Mike! Snap out of it!”

I realized that I had been daydreaming and responded,

“Well, when do I get to see my surprise?”

“I’ll take you to see it, but you have to get ready. It’s not here.” He giggled rather childishly, as if this were a mere game of hide-and-seek.

That’s Billie, for you. One moment he’s a somber, eccentric song-writer, plagued by the world and bursting with anguish, and the next he’s a carefree, loving, vulnerable child.

Maybe he’s not the only vulnerable one…

“I’ll throw some clothes on and meet you downstairs in five minutes.”

“Okay, Mikey,” he smiled as he walked swiftly out of the room.

As I pulled on a fresh pair of clothes; one of my typical outfits, a pair of black jeans and a white muscle shirt, I was overrun with curiosity. It’s rare for Billie to “surprise” me with anything but a kickass new song for Green Day. I doubted that that’s what this was all about. Strike that. I knew it wasn’t, because usually when he has a new song he walks into the room strumming a melody on his guitar, singing his newest masterpiece to a tune of his creation.

“Almost ready?” his sing-song voice carried up the stairs.

“Mhm,” I grunted, just loud enough for him to hear.
After my belt was threaded through the loops of my jeans and the buckle was secure I slipped through my bedroom door and into the hallway. He waited for me at the bottom of the staircase.

I couldn’t help but feel slightly insecure. All this extra special attention from Billie, however
nice it was was starting to get a little weird.

“Alright, where to?” I questioned. The car keys in my hand felt smooth against my palm and I sifted the key chain back and forth in my grip as I waited for an answer.

“I’m driving,” he commanded. He pulled the key from my hand and was sitting in the driver’s seat of my pickup truck, still grinning in the blink of an eye. I took my place in the passenger’s seat beside him.

“So, are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I asked once we were on the road. Asking that question was pointless. I already knew the answer. Billie was often predictable in situations such as these and I could tell by the look on his face that he was milking the suspense for all it was worth.

“No.”

For several more minutes we drove in silence. Obviously I wasn’t the only one who noticed the awkward atmosphere, because in between stopping at a red light and making a left turn one of Billie’s hands left the steering wheel and switched on the radio. He settled for a station that was currently playing a Misfits song.
Another minute and we had pulled into a large abandoned parking lot. Billie shifted the car into park and I looked up.

“What are we doing in the old Gilman parking lot?”

This lot had only been empty for about 6 months. After Gilman Street had chosen a nicer, closer one it had been put up for sale, but real estate here in Oakland wasn’t doing very well. In fact, nothing here was doing too well. What was left of this side of town had been reduced to a California ghetto. Drugs, crime, and gang activity were pretty much all that remained.

“This wasn’t where I planned to stop, but I just couldn’t wait any longer,” Billie replied. There was an edge of nervousness on his voice. A small smile flickered across his face.

“Wait any longer? For what?” I questioned aloud, only half-expecting to get a straight answer.

He answered my question, but sure as hell not in the way I had expected.

Before I knew what was happening, he was leaning towards me. He had an almost devious look is his eye. For a moment it seemed as if he was going to threaten me or something. Slowly he moved in until our faces were inches apart.

“Wha…?” I opened my mouth to question him, but never got the chance to finish my
sentence.

His face brushed mine, and my breathing was suddenly cut short as his lips found their way to my own. He kissed me tenderly, lovingly, and then went in for another. I was surprised at the jittery feeling that was now boiling up in the pit of my stomach. He deepened the kiss and pulled me closer. My heart was pounding in my chest as he wrapped his arms around my neck.

He paused for a moment, allowing our faces to break apart. His eyes were wide with excitement. He had wanted this for so long, and now I was giving it to him.
My mind was telling me to push him away; this just wasn’t right. I had just been kissed by my best friend. A man.

My heart was bringing me to the realization that this is what I had wanted all along.
I smiled at him for a brief moment. His eyes sparkled with happiness. My reaction to this had probably been quite different than what he had come to expect from me.

An intense urge surged through my body and before I knew it, I was pulling him closer and closer to me until our bodies were pressed so close together that I could feel his heart beating. I felt every muscle in the small man’s body relax as I lifted his chin up and feelings of passion overcame me.

I kissed him.

I kissed him like I had never kissed anyone before.

My act of dominance took him by surprise, and I could tell that it was, without a doubt turning him on. He kissed me back so fiercely that the world seemed to be at a momentary standstill. For what seemed like a lifetime, my surroundings froze and all I could see was Billie and I. It was like I had slipped into some kind of surreal dream. Nothing else, no one else mattered.

I ran my fingers through his mess of black hair. We remained in the lip-lock for no more than a few seconds longer, but that wasn’t all I had up my sleeve. He opened his mouth to speak but I raised a finger to my lips, signaling for him to be silent.

I tilted his head back slowly. My fingers ran gently along his jaw line, caressing the contours of his face.

He let out a small moan of pleasure when I lowered my face down to the height of his shoulder and planted a soft kiss on his neck. I could feel him shaking as I continued to press my lips against the tender, pale skin, starting near his shoulder and ending near his chin. He sighed as I broke away.

I now felt an attachment to Billie Joe; a bond that we had never before shared, although I could not deny that there had always been some kind of unspoken feeling between us. With what had just happened I wasn’t sure if things between us would ever be the same.

After what felt like an eternity, Billie opened his mouth to speak. The words he uttered left his throat in shaky, uncontrolled syllables.

‘Mike, I…”

Our perfect moment was suddenly ended when a flying object burst forcefully through the windshield. The glass shattered and shards of it flew in every direction. I recognized the sound of a gunshot as another bullet came through the glass. It ricocheted off the steering wheel and disappeared. Shock had set in and I shook it off when I realized what was happening to us.

“Billie, drive!” I shouted urgently.

He was still. Paralyzed and unresponsive. I shook him violently in an attempt to snap him out of it. Another bullet could be coming our way any second and chances are, it wouldn’t miss us this time.

“DAMNIT, BILLIE, DRIVE!”

He threw my truck into reverse and slammed the gas pedal to the floor. Four more gunshots rang in my ears and my heart sunk.

Whoever was trying to kill us had shot out our tires.

I couldn’t even think. Any constructive thought process that I had ever had was gone. All I could manage to do was jump out of the car and pull Billie with me. I stumbled and we landed on the ground, but I was soon up on my feet again. He remained where he had fallen. He was in a daze. I quickly pulled him up by his shirt collar and pushed him away.

“Run!” I yelled. My only defense mechanism was my fists, and I raised them to my chest. The knuckles of my hands were turning white, I was so tense.

Bullets were no longer flying, but I now found myself face to face with our attackers.

The two black men and three white men in front of whom I now stood glared at me with angry eyes. They were all dressed alike, in black jeans and and t shirts. Each held a pistol, dangling threateningly at their sides. Even with the heat of the moment and the precarious situation that I had been thrown into, I couldn’t help but stop to wonder how many innocent lives those guns had taken.

Without haste, the white man furthest to the left took a step forward. His dingy blonde hair fell into his eyes as he leaned close to me. I had not previously noticed the medallion that was hanging limply from his neck. A gold chain with a gold-lined scarlet pendant, which was in the shape of a bird.

“We don’t like trespassers,” he hissed with a malicious sneer. I was confused.

“Trespassing?” I questioned in a small voice.

“Don’t be a dumbass,” he said.

His hand rose from his side and before my mind could fully process what had just happened I was feeling the cold, hard barrel of a gun pressing into my forehead. I gasped out of shock and terror. That pendant…that symbol. I recognized it now.

I was about to be shot by the leader of the most prominent gang in the East Bay.

I didn’t dare move; the maniacal gleam in the man’s eye was enough to ensure that my brains would be blown to pieces if I did. He pushed me to the ground and kicked me. The others joined it. Each kick and punch to the head and body felt like a brick smashing into my skin at full force.

“I want you to beg,” the man hissed.

“Huh?” I questioned in a faint, injured voice.

“If you want to live, then you’d better beg, or I’m going to fucking blow you to goddamn pieces.”

This was misery. Dying is inevitable, but I never thought I would die at the hand of a bastard who takes lives for fun. I would not beg. If I was destined to leave the earth today, it’d be with dignity.

“No.”

“What the hell did you say?”

“I won’t fucking beg,” I sneered up at him. “If you want to kill me, be my guest.”

I shut my eyes, bracing for the blow. The gun clicked. It was locked and loaded. I said a silent prayer to a god I had never believed in and waited for the pain.

For the pain that never came.

I heard the bullet, but it didn’t collide with my body. I was pushed out of the way just in time, tumbling head over heels to the side.

My eyes fluttered open in a confused frenzy.

I shouldn’t have opened my eyes. As I looked into the shocked pupils of the gang members, it became clear to me what had just happened. My heart broke before I even turned around.
There was Billie, on his knees two feet away from where I now sat. He had a paralyzed, blank stare in the eyes that had once been full of life and as a small, nearly inaudible groan escaped from his lips I screamed.

“NO!” I cried out. The gang scattered real fast at the commotion I was creating.

My best friend had pushed me out of the way and taken the bullet to keep me alive.

A hole pierced through his chest, caked with the blood that was still spurting out. He fell to the ground with a small shriek of realized pain and rolled onto his side. I crawled over to him as fast as possible; I myself was covered in bruises and I was pretty sure that the fall had broken my ankle.

“Billie…” I whispered sullenly at the state of my friend.

“M-M-Mike,” he stuttered and coughed, choking on the blood that was sealing his throat. His skin was ashen white and already cold to the touch. I pulled him onto my lap just in time for him to fall limp in my arms.

By now my face was streaked with tears and I was crying harder than I had ever cried before. A tear escaped his own eye and rolled down his cheek.

I knew he didn’t have much time left.

“Mike,” he managed to whisper, “pr-promise me that you’ll…th-that you’ll always love me.”

“Billie Joe Armstrong,” I announced as I fought back even more tears, “I have always loved you, and I always will. Always. You got that? I love you and nothing can fucking change that!”

A smile lit up his face, his last smile, and with a tiny cough, he was gone. I watched the light leave his eyes.

My best friend and the man I love died in my arms.

I cried. I cried so hard that I didn’t think I’d ever have any fluid left in my body. He had meant everything to me. For the past decade he had been my companion, and now he was gone.

“You bastard!” I yelled hysterically up to the sky, the place I knew Billie now resided. “I told you to run! Why couldn’t you have just let me die?”

I was in a a state of shock by the time the ambulance arrived, and I was so far gone into the pits of insanity that I barely even noticed when my late friend was lifted off of my lap and onto a stretcher, then covered by a stark white sheet.

He had taken me to this lot to seal our fate; instead he had sealed a fate of a different kind.