Scumbag

Brian’s POV

I was gawking. I knew I was gawking, but I couldn’t help it. I probably looked just as desperate as the half dozen girls scattered around me, with the exception of Dixie, of course. She was so drunk, I’m not sure she even knew Billie’s band was playing. She walked off as soon as they played their last song, which was a pain because I had to be the one to find her. No one else would. I worried about her. I worried she was… losing herself.

She’d been a pretty heavy drinker since the night I’d first met her, but it still bothered me. I didn’t want to see her get hurt. I didn’t want to wake up one morning to find she’d never made it back to Billie Joe’s with the rest of us. I rushed through the crowd, getting glares from several taller, tougher guys with mohawks as I went. I’d get my ass whooped at Gilman’s soon enough if I wasn’t careful. I was already pretty unpopular in the general crowd, and only left alone because it appeared I was with the band. I guess I kind of was; I was with half of it, at least.

Mike still wasn’t really talking to me, though sometimes chose to talk at me. He told me off a lot for silly little things and one day soon, I was going to snap back at him. I didn’t need to be told I should ‘dress less like a girl’, and didn’t appreciate the sly smirks he gave me as I chose to find a place to sleep that was as close to Billie as possible without looking obvious. Though I guess it was, anyway. Trè seemed pretty quick to pick that up, too, though I think he’d had a bit of help from Billie Joe himself. I wasn’t sure how I felt when I found Billie had said something about me to someone else, even if it was something as simple as the fact that I could play guitar. Now I had everyone pestering me to play, but I had to refuse. I didn’t play like Billie played. We were totally different.

Dixie was up at the bar again, downing another shot just as I got to her.

“Haven’t you had enough?” I said into her ear, but got that silly smile of hers as she turned around instead of her submission.

“Are you worried you won’t catch up to me?” she asked, before she ordered another 2 shots and slid one across to me. Of course, I drank it, but I wasn’t nearly as wasted as she was. “I have to go do something,” she suddenly announced, before she got up with a bit of a wobble and took me backstage with her where she let me go.

I watched as the situation played out in slow-motion. She walked straight up to Billie Joe and slapped him so hard I could feel it, myself, as the air went still around me. He wasn’t far behind her with his alcohol consumption, but it hadn’t shown until then. He took her by the wrists, and forced her against the adjacent brick wall where he held her as she screamed into his face.

“Hit me! Go on, fucking hit me!”

And he did.

She stood still as he let her go, both just standing within arm’s length holding their tear-streaked faces. I didn’t know what to do, so I did nothing. I watched as she spat in Billie’s face, and he called her every bad thing he could think of as she walked away. My feet kept me where I was as Billie suddenly started bawling, and crashed to the floor where he’d been standing against that wall. For once, I wished Mike was there. They were like brothers, and I imagined he’d know what to do. I had no idea, but moving forwards would be the first step.

“Are you just gonna stand there?” he asked as I silently approached him, his sad eyes staring straight into mine. “Are you just gonna watch?”

“Why did you hit her?” I whispered, but I knew he was only drunk. He shrugged and got himself back up. I flinched as he went to run his hand along my arm, and he noticed.

“She found out about us, if there even is an ‘us’. What are we, Brian? I think I fucking love you.” He started crying again, and I let him rest his head on my shoulder then. Mike came around the corner and seemed to already know what had happened. I heard him sigh before he shook his head, signalling to Trè to meet him outside.

“Billie, we have to go. Now. I’ve already loaded up the car.” He nodded against me, and sniffled a little into my shirt. He wouldn’t look at me after that. We sat in the back of his car as Mike drove, and there he held my hand in the dark as they rested between our thighs. I saw Trè glance across at us, but he didn’t say anything. He took to staring back out the window, and things stayed that way until we got back to Billie’s place. Dixie hadn’t come back with us. I could only pray she’d be okay. My mind was racing with so many questions, with one burning at the back of my mind the most. Who told her?

---

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Billie said softly as I helped him out of his jacket and started running a shower for him. He looked a mess. The tears from before had mixed with the blood coming from his slightly split lip, and no one wanted to wake up looking like that. He was somewhat sobering up, but I guess still a little hazy. He was watching me as I closed the door behind us.

“Brian, why are you doing this?” he asked, his voice breaking halfway through his sentence.

“Because I know how it feels to wake up with yesterday’s regrets still on your face. It’s not a great feeling.”

“Oh? How many of your ex-girlfriends slapped you across the face at your own gig?”

“Billie, look at me.” He did. His eyes performed a good scan of my body. “You think I’ve never regretted looking like this in my life? I’ve been hit before, and I’ve hit other people. It’s not a great feeling to remember it as you’re still covered in blood the following morning. It’s the wrong way to remember it, I believe. Now get in the shower.” He looked away from me, and I looked away from him as he changed out of his clothes and shut the curtain behind himself. I was only staying because I was worried he’d trip over, or get stuck in the mirror. I got stuck in the mirror a lot, myself.

“Can you pass me a towel?” he asked after a while, and I blushed as he opened the curtain wide behind me. I was afraid of my wandering eyes if I turned around, so I stayed where I was as I awkwardly passed him a towel from behind. I could almost see him smirking. He already seemed in a better mood. I jumped a little as I felt his warm, wet body pressed up against mine from behind, and cursed myself as his lips found my neck and I knew I was enjoying it far too much. I turned around, and thankfully, he had his towel wrapped about his waist. His face didn’t look all that bad now, save for a light pink mark on one side and that split lip. It could have been worse, and would probably be on the heal come morning. He licked his lips before pressing them against mine, and I responded all too enthusiastically. My shirt was now drenched, but it was all worth it as he slipped his hands beneath it to touch at my nipples and run his fingertips over the few soft hairs that grew across my chest.

“Billie, are you in the bathroom?” I knew that as the voice coming from the other side of the bathroom door was a female, it had to be his mother, finally home from work. We froze, and I could see he was pondering what to say whilst silently pleading for me not to say anything at all. “Billie Joe, this isn’t a game. Unlock the door, please. I need to go.” He bit his lip in the most adorable of ways before he composed himself, and unlocked the door. We walked past her with straight faces, but I knew what it looked like. It didn’t take a genius to know what it looked like.

“Wait, wait, stop. What are you doing?” she asked, but she didn’t have to. Something in her eye told me she knew damn well what had been going on, and didn’t mind, but wanted to hear her son try to deny it.

“I was showing Brian something.” That sounded a lot worse than the reality. “I mean, the way the mirror fogs up when you shower in there, because we don’t have a window in the bathroom. And you can write on the surface?” I wanted to laugh, because Billie was still drunk and it was certainly showing. Her lips twitched into a tiny smile for but a moment, but I’d seen it.

“You must be Brian,” she said. “I think I’ve seen you around the place before.”

“I believe you have.”

“You can hang your shirt outside on the line to dry, if you want,” she said, and that kind smile finally came through. Billie looked like he was going to die of awkwardness. She walked away then, and he finally let out the breath he’d been holding in.

“I guess that means she knows you like boys, Billie,” I teased, and he smirked.

“I don’t like boys. I like a boy.” I remembered what he’d cried to me at Gilman’s earlier, but chose not to mention it. He’d been in another place. He didn’t love me. I didn’t even know what love was.