Paper Lanterns

Billie began the music and after three measures he chimed in with my song.

Oh God.

I immediately knew which song he'd picked. The one about the dying relationship we'd had, as well as the depression and hatred that followed. But it sounded so good with the music.. and his voice. No. He's a selfish bastard, and I hate him.

Halfway through I grabbed my book and got up.

"I shouldn't be here," I excused myself. I tried to avoid his eyes.. Those eyes were my one weakness. Always have been, always will. But his confused gaze kept me staring.

"Just please.. Leave me alone.." I quickly said, then, "But what you played was brilliant, and I'm sorry you can't continue, but I can't be here with you. Anybody else, yeah. But just not you."

I briskly went to the door, and exited to my car. I drove to the pier, and parked close by. I sat there, my head on the steering wheel. In the hour I sat like that, I decided to continue to hate him. But if he ever stopped teasing me, and actually acted civil with me, I'd reconsider.

Who knows, though. I doubt anything could change Billie Joe Armstrong, let alone me.

I went home and did my homework so I could do whatever Saturday and Sunday. I made tortellini with peas, and baked potatoes. Jeff would be back from baseball practice around 8:30, and Dad would get back pretty late, so I kept everything in the microwave.

I ate at the table quietly, while staring out the window. I finished, set my plate in the sink, and then I heard a clang from upstairs. I think my heart was going faster than ever, so I grabbed my brother's old bat from the hall closet, and went up to my room, where the noise came from.

I opened the door, and held the bat low towards the ground, and slightly to my side, so I wouldn't alarm the attacker or whoever it was.

False alarm. Just Billie.. Wait.

"Billie Joe! What the fuck are you doing sneaking into my room? I thought I asked you to leave me alone!"

He shot me a sheepish grin from my bed, which he was laying on in a suggestive position.

"Oh come on, you know you can't resist me," he smirked.

God this boy is full of himself.

"No. I can't resist the urge to beat the shit out of you again, so get out."

"Relax. I just wanted to invite you to my band's gig tonight. We're playing at some guy's party.."

"Uh. No. I'd rather not."

"Come on! It'll be awesome! You've got to!"

"No." I glared as he put on his puppy eyes and pout.

"I'm immune to that shit," I lied quickly. Yeah. Some things never change.

"Okay. If you come to our gig, I swear that I'll never come near you or speak to you as long as I live."

"Sounds tempting. I'll have to consider that. Now, get the fuck out."

"Fine," Billie answered softly, sounding defeated, and exited the way he came in; through the window.

I closed the window, and locked it, then sat on my bed. The only party going on tonight was Robert Sherman's. Everybody who's anybody would be there. But I'm not everybody.. I guess I could go. It'd be good to get out. If Billie tried anything, I could just blackmail him.

I didn't change clothes, I'd just go in what I had on; tattered, ripped jeans, and a blue Sex Pistols shirt, with my ancient hightop black Converse. I brushed out my hair, touched up what makeup I had on, and wrote a note to Dad and Jeff.

I left around eight, and parked a block away from Rob's house, yep. Everyone was there. I got to the door, and tons of people were already hitting the beer and smoking various substances.

I'd heard from different people that the band once known as 'Sweet Children' would be playing any minute now in the backyard.

Then I heard it throughout the entire house. I could hear Billie and his band starting up, so I went outside and there he was, rocking out, jumping around the makeshift stage. I stood there, glued to the ground, and my eyes didn't leave Billie Joe once during the set.

Afterward, I still stood in the same spot, staring blankly at the stage.

"I'm glad you came," I jumped as Billie came up behind me.

"Well, I needed a change of scenery," I snapped, now out of my daze.

"I noticed you couldn't keep your eyes off me," he had a smirk plastered over his face.

"Please, don't flatter yourself. I just didn't want to sit at home alone all night," I rolled my eyes at him, and turned to head inside.

Billie grabbed my wrist, and I whirled around, slapping his hand away.

"Don't fucking touch me. I'll tell everyone that you've taken singing lessons!" I hissed at him quietly.

"You wouldn't," he made a move towards me, and I backed away.

"Oh? I have plenty of shit on you. Don't fuck with me again." By the end of my threat, he had backed me against a wall. I glanced around nervously, looking for an escape.

"Do I make you nervous?" he asked playfully, reaching his right hand up and placing it on the side of my face, barely grazing his rough thumb over my cheek.

I stared up at him; he had a very calm, content look for some reason, so I shoved him roughly, ducking beneath his arms, and made a break for it.

I went into the house, trying to hide in the crowd of people. But no. I run into my replacement, Mike Pritchard.. Or Dirnt as he calls himself. None the less, I glared at him.

"Woah? What did I do?" Mike held up his hands in defense.

"Nothing.. Sorry Mike," I mumbled. He really was a nice kid if you got to know him. Too bad I hadn't really taken the chance, since he associated with the Devil.

"Hey, you're Grace, right?"

"Yeah..?"

"Billie wont shut up about you! Lately, all he's been doing is reminiscing about when you guys were friends. He sounds like my grandma."

This actually shocked me. Billie Joe hated my guts, and I hated his.

"Well, tell him that I came to the show, so he'd better keep his promise and leave me alone."

"What did he do to make you so bitter?"

"Let's see. There's his insensitivity and ignorance of other people's feelings. There's his enormously
huge ego, and how he always fucking teases me. But you can ask him for the details, I gotta find the way out of here."

"Okay. Just 'cause you and Billie aren't the closest people ever, doesn't mean we can't be friends. You can talk to me whenever you need to."

"Thanks Mike, you're not as bad as I thought," I smiled.

"You're not too bad yourself," he laughed, and disappeared into the sea of people. I stood there, taking in the scene.