Pencils, Dust, and Imperfection

"You look like shit."

I managed to smile at Tre as I sat down beside him in the studio.

"What are we doing?" I asked him.

"Mike's doing a bass line with Butch." He answered as he started staring at me. "You really look bad," He said.

"I heard you the first time."

Tre grinned as he looked back through the glass window where Mike was doing the bass line. "Ever heard of a thing called sleep?" He questioned.

"Yeah, but I couldn't sleep last night." I replied.

He looked over at my again. "Are you okay, Billie?"

"Yeah." I fibbed poorly.

"Don't lie," Tre said. "You're a bad liar."

I just blinked as memories resurfaced.

Don't act oblivious.
You're a bad actor.

"Billie Joe?" He asked as he snapped a couple times in my face. "Anyone home?" I just looked at him and he asked, "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes," I answered again, but stronger, trying to sound truthful.

"Say 'no' and tell me why, or I'll have Butch come in and beat it out of you." Tre threatened.

I just sighed, and decided I had no choice but to confess everything. Tre knew me too well, which was both good and bad. Besides, I needed to tell someone what was going on; maybe then I could get some advice or help.

I opened my mouth to speak, but something caught my eye and distracted me. It was a piece of paper lying near the production tools with a few words scribbled upon it.

Tre followed my gaze, and said, "Yeah, I just saw that before you came in. It's pretty cool."

I leaned forward and took ahold of the piece of looseleaf paper. All it read was:

Christian's Inferno.

I wanted to swallow because my throat was on fire, but I couldn't. I just stared at those two words.

'Billie, please...what's wrong?" He asked urgently.

"I didn't write this." I muttered in response.

Tre's eyes narrowed in confusion as he took the paper out of my hands and gave it a glance. "It's your handwriting, Billie. What do you mean you didn't write it? Why does that upset you?" He inquired.

"No...I didn't write this," I tried, but didn't make anymore sense. "i mean, I did, but I didn't...he must've...," And I drifted off.

"Billie? Billie, you need to get some rest. I'll -"

I stood up to leave, but Tre grabbed my arm. "I'm not letting you drive yourself home. I'll drive you there."

"I'll be fine," I tried comforting.

"No, you won't," He said as he picked up his car keys. "Not until you get some sleep, and I'm not letting you drive your car when you can't even keep your eyes open."

I just looked away, feeling defeated because I knew he was right. Tre sighed and apologized for his tone of voice. "I don't want to berate or lecture you, but you need to get some rest."

I nodded, and he added, "Just let me tell Mike and Butch, and then we'll go."

I nodded again and he stepped out of the room. Without much coherent thought, I didn't wait for Tre and quickly walked out of Studio 880 and headed towards my car. I started the ignition and drove the slightly long drive home.

I pulled into my driveway and stepped out of my car. I took my cellphone out of my leather jacket pocket and turned it off; I knew Tre, Mike, or Butch would try calling, and I knew me not answering would worry them, but I just didn't care.

That isn't good, Billie Joe.
Being careless is Christian's specialty

I tried not to be alarmed by the presence of Gloria as I walked into my home. Joey and Jakob were at school, and I didn't know where Adrienne was.

His name is Christian?

That's what the paper said, wasn't it?
I guess I just assumed...

Where did that name come from?

How would I know?

You seem to know everything; you know the answers to the questions that I can't figure out on my own.

You must have saw the name somewhere.

Well, when did I write Christian's Inferno? I haven't gone to the studio lately, and I don't remember writing it.

You don't remember hitting Adrienne either/

...So, I drove to the studio and wrote those two words, and then drove home without knowing it?

You remember it vaguely.
When you woke up on the patio, you remembered that you had been writing a song.

I was getting a migraine, and I knew the source of the pain was from talking to Gloria and my lack of sleep. I decided to take Tre's advice and get some sleep. As I walked through the hallway, I passed a bathroom where I heard someone crying. I felt weak, and all I wanted was a cigarette.

Christian's crying in the bathroom,
And you just want a cigarette?

That wasn't Christian because Christian isn't real.

Then who is it?

If I knew, so would you.

I opened the bathroom door to see Adrienne crying, and I instantly dreaded the worst.