You've Got to Hide Your Love Away

Billie Joe woke up the next afternoon to the smell of his sweaty stage clothes and with a hangover from hell. Judging by the severity of the pounding in his head and the lack of memories from the night before, he figured he probably deserved it. He could hear Mike's tuning his bass and Tre whistling in between verses of various show tunes. He sighed and rolled out of bed.

“Ah, sleeping beauty has finally emerged.” Tre taunted, twirling once for good measure, then taking a seat next to Mike.

“Can you stop that?” Billie Joe snapped at Mike, glaring at the instrument in his hands.

Mike ignored him. “Rough night?”

“What happened?”

“You don't want to know.” Tre answered.

“That bad?”

“It wasn't pretty, Billie.” Mike shook his head, almost shuddering.

Billie Joe cringed. “Fuck it, what'd I do?”

The other two stared at him, apprehensive.

“It couldn't have been that bad,” He offered, trying to size up the amount of havoc he'd reeked.

Mike sighed. “Somehow-I don't know how-you ended up with Ava.” Mike watched Billie's face to gauge his reaction.

He let out a long breath, trying to piece the shattered and blurred images together to build a cohesive story. “And?” He prompted when he'd come up with nothing but memories of seeing dinner resurface back on the bus and Ava's face looking appalled.

“And she brought you back here, miraculously. Not too happy about it.” Tre retorted.

“I can imagine.” He watched their faces, eyes shifting around the room looking for any distraction. “Fuck, what else?” He groaned.

Mike and Tre shot each other side long glances.

“Come on, I'm a big boy, I can handle it.” He snapped, rolling his eyes.

“Well, you kind of drunkenly confessed your love to her,” Mike paused, “More than once.”

Billie Joe cringed. “Fuck,” He cursed after a moment of silence.

“Yeah,” Mike supplied, at a loss for words. Billie didn't even hear him.

“Could have been worse,” Tre lifted a shoulder, trying to be reassuring.

“...How?”

“You didn't cry or puke on her. You managed to hold it down until you made it back here.” Billie stared at Tre, having a hard time finding the bright side to look on amongst those added scenarios.

“Just forget about it, man. You can't do anything to change it,” Mike consoled him. He could do something about it, but he wouldn't dare tell Mike.

“Yeah, I guess your right, as usual,” He agreed halfheartedly. “I think I need a shower.” .He excused himself.

“Probably a good idea. You're making me nauseous.”

Billie waved one hand dismissively as he left the bus. Outside he looked over his shoulders, checking to make sure that no one was around. When he'd determined that the coast was clear, he took his phone out of his pocket. Four missed calls, three from Mike and one from home early this morning. Probably one of the boys calling before school. He scrolled through his call menu until he saw Ava's number and hit the send button. Three rings and a voice mail. He hung up, not terribly surprised, but still disappointed and guilty as fuck.

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With the odor of alcohol sweat washed from his body and a spring his step, Billie set off to find Ava. He started at the bus.

Danielle answered the door, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“Hey, is Ava here?” He sounded a little breathless and desperate. She gave him a weird look for that.

“Negative. She's working on something.”

“Okay, thanks anyway.” He said, dejected. He turned to walk away.

“Billie Joe?” She called. She hand one hand on her hip, fingers sprawled against the fabric of her jeans. She was leaning against the door frame, scrutinizing him.

“Yeah?” He asked anxiously.

“Did something happen with you guys?” She looked suspicious. She knew too much.

“What do you mean?” He coughed, trying to keep his cool.

“She was a little off yesterday. Disappeared for a few hours, didn't sleep much, something's up. You know anything about that?”

He looked at his feet sheepishly.

“That's what I thought.” She nodded. “She's in our dressing room, took some lyrics down there. I don't know what you did, but I suggest you go fix it. And I'm not suggesting that for your sake, it's for my sanity. You don't want to have to face me once I've spent a whole night consoling drunk Ava.”

He nodded once, staring at her.

“We clear?” She cocked her head.

“Yes.”

“Okay,” She smiled and closed the door without another word.

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True to Danielle's word, Billie found Ava in the dressing room marked Blackbird. The door was ajar and he could hear someone ripping pages out of a notebook and crumpling them. His knuckles brushed against the door.

“What the fuck do you want?” Ava called, cursing under her breath as she scribbled some unsatisfactory lyric out.

Billie Joe pushed the door open and peered around the edge. Ava was curled up in a chair, knees against her chin, an old notebook on her legs and black pen in hand. She chewed on the end in concentration, eyes racing across a group of words. She looked up when she heard the hinges creak.

“Hey,” He greeted her awkwardly.

She ignored him, dropping the notebook and moving to stand before the the counter littered with rejected or considerable lyrics. She shuffled through the papers, pretending to look for a particular lyric. Her face was set in stone, jaw clenched. The papers rustled more as she grew angry.

“Ava, I'm-”

“We already did this.” She cut him off, eyes still on the stack in her hand. What the fuck had she been looking for?

“I know. I just want to make things right.” He shoved his hands into his pockets.

“You can't.”

He sighed. “Ava-”

“What do you want? Me to tell you that everything's okay for the sake of your conscious? I'm not a liar, Billie.” She snapped.

“We need to talk about this,” He stated, trying to be rational.

She wasn't having any of that. “There's nothing to talk about.”

“You're just going to leave everything unsaid?”

“There's nothing to say. You're married. End of discussion.” She answered bluntly. Her voice stayed even, and she was proud of that.

Silence erupted between the two as she pretended to care about lining the papers up, stacking them then hitting them against the table to even them out with more force than necessary.

“I didn't mean to hurt you.” He said quietly.

“I know,” She sighed, dropping the papers. They fluttered out of the neat pile she'd spent the last few minutes arranging. She brought a hand to her head, rubbing it against her temples. How had all of the fight left her so suddenly?

“You mean a lot to me. You make me feel alive.”

Her shoulders dropped. She looked defenseless and tired.

“We can't do this.” She sounded less convincing all the time.

“I don't know how to be without you.”

“You say that. You say lots of things like that. You tell me I'm special, and that I take your breath away, and even that you fucking love me. But you lied to me. How am I supposed to believe you?” He didn't have an answer. What can you say to that, really? She shouldn't believe him. She had no reason to trust him, and even though he deserved it, it sill felt like being stabbed with a rusty knife.
“You're the family man, Billie Joe. A wife, two kids, probably some big ass house with a manicured lawn? You drive kids to soccer practice and assemble toys? Do you and your wife-” He didn't miss the way she cringed- “go shopping together at the Home Depot on Saturdays and pick the right shade of yellow to re-paint the kitchen? I don't even know who you are.” She wasn't angry, just sad.

“That doesn't change who I am. That's just what I do. You know me, Ava. Everything else was me.” He pleaded, trying to make her understand.

“How can I be so sure?” She turned to face him, hands on her hips.

“You just have to trust me.” The words fell flat and sounded empty when they were up against her confrontational stance.

“Yeah, 'cause that put me in such a fucking great place before, didn't it?” She let out a long breath, closing her eyes. He could tell she was trying anything to keep the tears that we're building from falling. He put a hand on her shoulder and she flinched, then relaxed against his touch. She kept her eyes sealed and tried to control her breathing, but her body was giving in.. He wrapped his arms around her waist subtly, and it felt so good to be held by him that she let him, feeling defeat twist her stomach. Where had the strong Ava gone? The one who wanted to kick his ass and curse him out in twenty different languages?

Unfortunately that girl was no where to be found in times of crisis, but vulnerable Ava was more than happy to step into the ring. His hands tightened their hold on his waist, and Ava leaned into him, inhaling his familiar scent. She let out a shaky breath again his neck, gasping for air. Don't cry, Don't cry, Don't cry, she chanted to herself, but her tears ducts didn't seem too intent on listening. He felt her hot tears rolling onto his neck, running in little paths over his skin. He winced.

He pulled his face back from her neck and kissed her. It was a short kiss, and when it broke her lips were still parted, waiting. She opened her eyes and was shocked by the proximity of his face; the intensity of his eyes staring into hers. She didn't think she would ever be this close to him again.

Then, because had a million different emotions running through her mind and she'd always had a carpe diem mentality, she kissed him with urgency. He gasped for a second in surprise, then matched the urgency, hands roaming over her ribcage and up to caress her breasts through the soft cotton t-shirt. She reached behind his head, cupping the base of his skull and holding him against her lips, hoping to keep him close for as long as possible.

He kissed the side of her mouth as she drew in a sharp breath, and he could taste the salt from her tears on her skin. He picked her up by the waist and set her on the table, swiping her stacked scraps onto the floor in the process. Ava moaned into the kiss, her lips working against his like wet velvet. He tugged on the zipper of her jacket, then pulled her arms loose of the soft cotton fabric. She dropped her hand from the back of his head to help him. Her mind had gone on auto-pilot, ignoring every reason why she shouldn't and falling on the one why she should: She still wanted him. She wasn't going to deny that; even with all of the malice and animosity in her system lust always seemed to take the wheel.

Clothing was flying off like crazy, and after a whirlwind of belt buckles and zippers, the two of them were in a very familiar situation. Billie grabbed Ava's waist and she wound her arms around his bare neck, feeling the tension in his shoulders. He lifted her and brought her down onto the floor, laying her gently against the old carpet. It felt scratchy against her back, and wasn't the greatest location, but she'd never been a girl for plush linens and rose littered bedspreads anyway.

He looked into her eyes and watched her, scrutinizing her. She felt uncertain beneath his gaze, suddenly aware of how naked she was in front of him and the severity of the situation. She'd never felt like that when anyone looked at her before. There weren't secrets between them now, and somehow it made both of them feel more exposed. Ava didn't know how she felt about that.

Shaking off the doubts that plagued his mind, Billie Joe spread her legs apart and thrust into her, trying to fuck everything separating them out of their minds. Ava closed her eyes, squeezing them shut. Maybe if she couldn't see anything, it would just seem like a dream.

A very realistic, blind, dream.

The pace picked up, and for a split second their minds shot away. Billie thought about Adrienne, his wife, the mother of his children, the shook the thought as he kissed Ava's neck. Ava thought about the faceless woman who Billie belonged to; the reason that he could never belong to her, then forget as she shivered at the feel of his lips. She took in a quick, shallow breath as his fingers moved between their bodies to touch her.

She wrapped her arms around his back, digging her nails into his skin. Her back rubbed against the carpet and as much as the pain was pleasurable, it was punishing too. She moaned, loud, and lost all track of time outside of now.

Billie focused on the physical, Ava's long hair sticking to his sweaty skin, her legs wrapping around his waist, smooth an porcelain, the soft skin of her breasts against his tongue as he explored her body, her ragged breathing in his ear and the plea of his name escaping her lips. He knew he couldn't hold on much longer, and didn't try. He moaned loud as he came.

He held Ava against him as she shook with the last of her orgasm until they still and breathing regularly. He grabbed her waist and flipped them over so that she was laying against his chest, listening to his heart beat.

“I'm not going to try to be her.” Ava said, breaking the silence, unable to say her name. She realized that those words were almost like signing a contract in her own blood.

“I don't want to to.” He replied quietly, touching her hair, then her ear and cheek. She looked up at him, her eyes uncertain. “You're beautiful,” He added, looking into her eyes. He didn't say it to seal the deal or anything, he just said it because he wanted to.

Ava smiled; he'd never told her that before. But as soon as the butterflies started to build up, guilt managed to smother them. She kept the smile on her face with her usual sarcastic banter.

“Trying to woo me back?” She gave him a mock look of shock.

“I think I already did,” He smirked, gesturing to their entangled, naked bodies.

“You won me over in less than 24 hours. That's just not fair.” She was smiling to take the sting out. She felt pathetic and dirty at best.

“It's not your fault. I'm just so damn charming.” He winked and smiled back lazily. Then he noticed her eyes. They were joking around, sure, but the smile on her lips fell flat. “You okay?” He asked, eyebrows knotting together in concern.

She nodded solemnly, taking his hand in hers. Maybe if she went back to focusing on the tangible things, the self imposed guilt would back off.

“Hey,” He beckoned softly, making her look up at his face. “It's not-” He broke off when he heard his phone ringing, sounding out a familiar techno melody from his pocket. They stared at one another, knowing exactly where the call was coming from. Billie waited, apprehensive.

“Answer it,” Ava commanded, looking him dead in the eye. He rolled over enough to reach behind him and grab the leg of his pants, pulling them closer then rummaging through the pockets. He answered on the last ring.

“Hello?” He turned to look at Ava as she slid off of him, sighing to herself.

“Hey, dad!” Jakob beamed on the other line.

“Hey, buddy. What's up?” Ava sat up, reaching for her discarded garments of clothing. Her movements were determined, slow, and deliberate. Her eyes were cast downward, breathing slow and controlled.

“Me and Joey got a new video game today. It's really cool. You get to kill all kinds of stuff. You'd really like it.”

“Oh yeah? Sounds fun. You gonna let me try it out sometime?” He watched Ava pull her shirt over her head, then shake her hair back into place.

“Yeah, you can be on my team. Joey always beats me.”

“Of course, buddy. We'll show him.” Ava stood up, reaching for her jeans. She pulled them on and zipped them up, putting her hands on her hips and surveying the room.

“When are you coming home?”

He sighed, rubbing his face. “Soon, Jake. Before you know it.” He saw Ava cringe, and it sent his mind racing. What would happen when the tour was over? They would just go off and pretend this never happened? Or would things continue: Billie lying and sneaking out and Ava always looking so disappointed when it was time for him to go back home? “Hold on a second, okay?”

“Okay.”

Billie put the phone down and looked up. Ava was watching him, almost expectantly.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

She let out a breath and put her hands up, exasperated. “I don't know. I can't stay here.”

“I'll only be a minute,” He tried, but she shook her head.

“I just, need a minute. I'm going to go have a cigarette or something. I'll be around.”

“Okay,” He nodded, knowing that he wasn't going to change her mind. She picked up her bag and left.