Better Think Again Cause No One Knows

"Dani, get your fucking brother up before I beat his ass all the way to last week!" came a voice at the other side of my bedroom door, waking me up from a weird dream I was having.

"Leave me the fuck alone!" I yelled, smothering my face into my pillow as I groaned from being annoyed.

Once I was about to look up, a pillow got thrown straight at my head.

"Fuck you!" I yelled, turning my head to see who whipped it at me.

Mike was standing by my bedside, smiling at me like some phyco who was about to take advantage of the fact that I was lying in my bed, only in my bra and panties.

"Get out, you... pervert!" I shouted at him, throwing my pillow at him.

He grinned, "But you're so fucking hot," he drooled.

I snickered, "Yea, but don't forget, if I was a guy, I'd look exactly like Billie," I smiled at him, hoping he was disgusted at the picture.

After a moment of silence, he shrugged, "So? I think Billie's pretty damn hot... But he doesn't have a hot ass like you do, Dani Fanni!" he smirked. He knew how I hated that name with a passion. Tre started that fad when I was thirteen. Yep... thirteen. And to think they're three years older then me. If you think you know perverts, come live with Billie Joe Armstrong, my big brother and his friends, Tre and Mike; the most perverted guys ever. Sad that I've known them since I was a little child.

"Don't call me--"

"DANI FANNI, YOU'RE FINALLY UP!" Tre yelled with a big smile plastered on his face.

I groaned, "Don't call me that! I don't like you complimenting my ass... it's just weird! And shouldn't you be out not getting laid?" I snicked. My comment made Mike laugh which made me laugh.

"Ha ha," he laughed sarcastically, "Just for your information, ever since we've sold albums, I've gotten laid tons of times," he nodded in pride, making me stare at him with a blunt look across my face.

"Tre... Linda, your blowup doll doesn't count as a woman. Sorry," I smiled evilly at him. Once again, Mike laughed, harder this time.

"I haven't pulled that thing out from under my bed since I was sixteen," he said as he scratched the top of his head, looking down at the floor. If you knew Tre Cool as well as I did, you'd know that means he was lying.

"LIAR!" I screamed with a smile on my face, "Now get the fuck outta my room so I can change!"

"Why? I like you the way you are," Mike said with a confused look. Tre raised his eyebrow up at him because of his stupidity.

I sighed, "I meant change clothes, dumb ass."

He laughed, "Oh... blank moment there, sorry."

I rolled my eyes, "Yep, wouldn't be the first time."

"You're a smart ass," Mike narrowed his eyebrows at me, making me give him a disgusted look and look over at Tre.

"Nope... She has a nice ass," Tre smirked.

I stared at him for a second before saying, "Tre... I hate you," I laughed at the last bit
because, honestly, I didn't mean it. Tre was my buddy no matter how we treated each other.

"And I love you, too, Dani," laughed Tre, making me laugh a little too.

After minutes of talking about nothing at all, Billie came storming in the room like he had something really important to say, or he finally found his watch Tre flushed down the toilet.

My focus immediately went to his newly dyed blond hair. I sighed to myself as I looked upon his new look. His eyes went around the room and stopped at me.

"What was that for?" he asked, referring to my sigh.

I stared blankly at him for a second, "Billie, all that shitty hair dye you put in your hair every two months will eventually lead to your hair loss. Then, you'd fall into a great big form of depression, 'cause all your precious hair will be down the shower drain," I smirked at the last bit.

He looked at me with a frightened look, then loudly gulped, "Well... if you haven't noticed, I've been dying my hair since I was thirteen, and it's all still looking good," he inquired.

I rolled my eyes, "Of course you're not going to lose your hair when you're thirteen, you Dookie ass!" I snapped at him. One thing you must know about me, I have a lot of attitude. Most of my attitude is sarcasm, but you don't want to mess with Dani Armstrong! Okay, that was a lie. I meant to inquire, you don't want to mess with Dani Armstrong if you're any of the members of Green Day.

He quickly rolled his eyes, "Whatever!" he then rolled his eyes over to Mike and Tre whom were staring at my position in the bed. Apparently, they had a nice view of my bra and lower half of my body. God, how they piss me off.

"Guys, Rob wants us over at his house at four. Is that alright?" he asked them slowly.

There's another thing you should know about Mike and Tre; they can be as stupid as shit, so you have to speak slowly to them .

"Yea," they both mumbled together, still looking down at me. Billie left my room with an annoyed look.

I looked up at Tre and Mikes drooling expressions and smirked, "Hey, Tre, isn't that the same look you give Linda?" I asked right when a little dribble of drool fell from his mouth and onto the floor.

He quickly whipped the liquid away from his chin, "Shut up! You should be happy I drool over you... you're hot," he wiggled his eyebrows at the last part, "Maybe you and me could hook up sometime," he smiled widely.

I weakly smiled as I thought of something mean to say, "Thanks, but no thanks. I don't really like going out with guys who knock up their girlfriend, then take the first bus out of town - You see where I'm going?" I innocently smiled. Honestly, it's a very long story.

I'll cut it down for you: Tre was in the band called The Lookouts when he was twelve. Tre had groupies when he was twelve, so he pretty well loved the rock star life. Anyhow, even though the band didn't make it long, he still had the occasional girl who recognized him. However, one time when he was fourteen, he had a girlfriend - who was a past-groupie - that he knocked up because the condom broke. Once he had been told the news, the fourteen year old ran away from home, moving in with Billie and my family. That was the end of that relationship since his pregnant girlfriend had no idea he moved across town to live with his best friends family.

As of now; Well, she lost the baby in a tragic accident. Anyway, that's what Tre says. However, he was just a scared young teenager who didn't know what else to do. He's grown up since then and would not do that again. He really is a good guy but people don't instantly think that when they first meet him, unfortunately.

Tre squinted his eyes at me as if he was looking right through my head, "You're evil!"

I chuckled, "Thanks, and you're an angel." I said as I got up from my bed. I didn't forget that I was still in my bra and panties, I just knew they wouldn't do anything, 'cause if they did, they'd have to not only face me but Billie too.

I walked over to my make up table, staring at my blunt reflection. I sighed as I saw some scars at the front of my cheek. I told Tre and Mike a cat scratched me when they asked before, but that wasn't the truth. The truth was, Brad - Billie and my step-father - doesn't exactly think I'm the best step-daughter. Honestly, we never got along. How could we? Every since my Dad died, I've been a rec, along with Billie. But throughout the years, Billie's been able to get over the passing of our Father, but me, that's a different story.

Brad knows I'm unable to let go of the past, so he thinks beating me will make me realize that the present is much more important. But without the past, there wouldn't be a present, right? Well, that's not what Brad thinks, and it just kills me that my Mom knows and can't do anything.

"You do realize we're still here, right?" asked a drooling Tre. I looked at his reflection in my mirror.

I sighed, "Well, I'm waiting for you to leave" I motioned them. I'm not one to hide how I'm feeling, and they've always known that, and they've also known to go away if I fell into one of my depressed modes. They understand that I have unbearable problems that need to be dealt with by medication.

Tre didn't question. He knew not to question. It's the only time he knows not to protest and just do as he's told; he's not scared that I'm going to hurt him, but even though we talk crap to each other, he really does care for me, and I care for him too.

I watched him through the mirror as he left the room with his head down; he probably thought it was his fault why I fell in another state of depression. As I knew he was gone, I took my hair brush and brushed my straight, long, dark brown hair.

I put the brush down and looked back into my mirror. I took my index fingers and ran them against the skin underneath my eyes to whip away the smudged eyeliner I fell asleep in last night.

Looking into my own eyes made me feel rage towards myself-- Just looking into my own eyes made me realize how bad I have it when I leave my brothers house. Sure, I may seem confident when it comes to the guys, but I once tried killing myself with my oldest brothers pocket knife. Sadly, that was when I was eleven. Yep, eleven. That was about the time I got sick with my depression, and I couldn't handle anything anymore.

I broke down crying at my own make up table as my past came rushing to me. It was my own fault I was like this; I felt like I never knew my Father; I was only three when he passed, but I knew we got along so well. I dream about him at times, but in my dreams, he doesn't have a face, but I always know it's him checking up on me.

"Are you okay?" came a voice from behind me. I turned my body around, only to see Mike sitting on my bed. I must have forgot he was in there.

"Go away!" I sniffled at him.

He sighed sadly as he looked down at the floor, "You know... every time you have one of your moments, you tell me to go away when I try to help... but, have you ever considered telling me what's bothering you? Maybe I could help," he weakly smiled at the last part, lifting his head from the ground and looking at me.

He was looking straight into my eyes and not at my almost exposed body.

"You'd never know the pain I go through," I told him, my voice getting high pitched with each word.

His eyes fell saddened as he looked even more deeply into my eyes, "Dani... please? I really want to help you."

I sniffled as I considered. I weakly nodded as I went walking back to sit on my bed.

Once I was beside him, he tried to make me feel better by wrapping my blanket around my body, so I wouldn't feel awkward as he put his arm around my waist. I gently laid my head on his shoulder as he rubbed my side.

"Tell me," he whispered into my ear.

I whipped a stranded tear from my cheek, "I just... really miss him," my voice went high when I said the last part, feeling my tears coming back again.

Without any words, Mike hugged me closer to him, letting my tears fall onto his shirt. He knew right away what I meant, and I was glad he did, so I didn't have to explain.

You might not think my life wasn't so bad. True, I was the sister of the front-man from a somewhat underground band trying to make it beg in America, but not many people understand that having a famous family member isn't always all that it's cracked up to be; some people think since I'm the sister of Billie Joe Armstrong, I'm just a rich and coincided little twat. It makes it worse that I live with him, but I only do because I can't stand living with my step-father; he makes my depression even worse, but Billie understands the pain I go through. On top of that, the money problems in this little townhouse are ridiculous.

My pain will never end; I've had it since I was young, and it will never go away. My past mistakes have led me to my dysfunctional present. My deep poetic thoughts have led me to my shy life. My feelings of being unloved have led me to my feelings of feeling hated. My Fatherless past has led me to my Motherless present. And my depression will eventually lead to my suicide.

My name is Dani Gloria Armstrong, and I welcome you to my story.