It's Easier Than It Seems

Black stilettos slammed on the floor in anger; the floor below them trembling in fear. She carved her way through the marble flooring until her shoes met deep red carpet, her echoing footsteps now silenced. She made her way through the luxurious lobby, only stopping when she had found what she was looking for; in front of her sat a man who had slouched in his chair, his head hung low in what appeared to be defeat.

She sighed deeply. This guy was supposed to net her next wage slip?

She didn't think so.

“Billie,” She said, her voicing slicing through the silence. “My office, now,” She demanded, not giving the man a chance to give any sort of comeback.

He bit his lip, almost resentful he couldn't argue back to her, and then followed her like a puppy into her office.

Lights were dim, but the office was bright; it might have been the slick white walls or perhaps the bright orange canvas that pretended it was art, but it all made Billie feel a bit queasy.

He took a seat in the chair on the other side of the desk and clasped his hands together, preparing himself to be brutally murdered. He gulped down and sank into his chair when she sat opposite him, her demeanour much stronger than Billie's, causing him to feel like an ant.

“You have got to be kidding me,” She said, her deep red lips sneering towards him, long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. “That's it? You just up and quit?”

He didn't know what to say, how did he reply? He was terrified, he couldn't think of an answer because he was too scared she would get a knife out from her desk drawer and plant it into his neck.

“Hm?” She impatiently hummed, trying to get Billie to reply to her. “Are you going to just sit there or are you going to think of a coherent answer!?” This time she growled towards Billie, her demeanour getting strong every word, it was almost like she was getting ready to pounce at Billie, but was keeping herself at bay.

“I...” He slowly looked up to her piercing brown eyes, but his breath was cut short and once again his mind went blank.

“You...”

Billie chewed his lip; hesitating on a few words, and trying to form a sentence in his mind. “Well... yeah,” He simply replied, taking overly long to reply with a simple 'yeah'.

She popped her lips together and then leaned forwards over the desk, her gaze not wondering from Billie's. “Yeah? ...you're telling me that over twenty years, millions of albums sold, billions of fans, and countless tours... your final answer is... 'yeah'?!”

He couldn't resist. He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't hold back. “Yeah.”

Now she was fuming, he could see it all across her face and in her body language. This woman was about to turn into a big green muscular giant.

She was, in fact, technically Billie's boss. Just one strand of the record label that behind the scenes controlled the band. They were the ones calling the shots, and if they didn't like something—they'd certainly let Green Day know.

“I'm entering you into rehab, I'll put out a press release that Green Day are taking some time off with exhaustion and you're getting help for it,” She said calmly, collecting herself. “Then, after you come out of rehab, you'll rejoin the band and continue with the next album.”

Billie despised that. He wasn't about to let some woman from a record label tell him what to do; if he wanted to quit he would damn well quit. He had about enough of everyone trying to control him, why couldn't he just do what he wanted?

“I don't think so,” He replied, sitting up in his chair and regaining some posture. He was one step away from puffing out his chest to rival the woman's power. “I've had enough, okay?! I quit Green Day, I quit music, I quit this nonsense bullshit where you are controlling us and you know what?! YOU are the ones pushing us to the brink with deadlines!” He stood up from his chair and slammed his hands down on to the table in front of her, causing an empty glass to knock over. “Now listen to me! You can put out a fucking press release, sure, but make sure the headline is 'Green Day are over', or I'll make your life a fucking misery,” He growled, causing the woman, for once, to lean back and hand over dominance to Billie. “So good fucking bye.”

***

“Did you hear?”

I turned my head to see Anna and my eyes widened. “Oh my God... your hair!”

“What?” She put her hands to her head in an almost panic, like someone had come along and stuck a load of chewing gum into it. “What's wrong with it?!”

I put my hand over my mouth and let out a quiet giggle. “It's pink... it's adorable!” I explained.

Anna let out an 'oh' noise before looking like she had lost her train of thought. She looked towards me slowly and frowned. “Now I forgot what I was going to say,” She sighed. “You distracted me!” Anna slapped my thigh lightly, causing me to jump. “How was the magazine shoot anyway?”

I stared at her in blank and utter confusion. Shoot? I didn't have a shoot booked!

“What shoot?” I asked, hoping Anna could fill in the void that was my mind.

“Uhm,” She paused, twirling her candy floss hair in her fingers. “The one this morning,” She tilted her at me and then let out another 'oh' noise. “You forgot didn't you?”

My mind back traced through it's memory bank until it reached only one conclusion. “Nope,” I bit my lip and looked through my diary. “Double nope.”

“Did Dimitri not email or tell you? Or what about the magazine company, I'm sure they would have emailed you,” Anna explained, causing a switch to flick on in my head.

“Dimitri? ...I see,” I grinned and stood up from my desk. Now everything made perfect sense.

Anna looked around in confusion and back to me. “What? I don't get it.”

“Oh you will do in about ten minutes time,” I smiled, and walked away from her towards the stairs. I braved myself and looked to the office one last time;
I knew I was most likely never going to see it again.

I barged past Dimitri's personal assistant, much to her dismay as I heard her calling out 'you can't go in there!', but I didn't care any more. I slammed my hands hard down on Dimitri's double oak doors and shoved them open.

“I'd like a word,” I said, putting my hands onto my hips and storming into his office.

He just raised his brow, looking calmly from his coffee to me. “I'm sorry, but what do you think you're doing!?”

“You set me up!” I pointed at him. “You made me the photographer for a magazine without informing me and so I missed it!”

Dimitri's gaze looked unaffected, in fact, he looked apathetic, with a hint of fake surprise. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

I gritted my teeth together, oh yes he did. “You're the only one with the power to bring in a magazine, and why would you purposely screw up a photo shoot unless it was to make me look bad?!” I furiously said, my voice getting louder with every word. “Because it doesn't make you look bad does it!? NO! It makes clients think I'M unreliable so I won't be able to book further jobs... something worse than just simply firing me!” I yelled, trying to hold back some composure but totally losing myself to my hormones.

Dimitri just looked on amused, not saying a word.

“Well you know what Dimitri? You're an ass, and I quit!” I shouted, storming out of his office without letting him get a word in. I didn't care what he had to say; I already hated the job, but now I had a real reason to quit. For some reason he had always hated me, but to stoop so low to make clients hate me? That's just mean and childish.

Even if it wasn't intentional, he still didn't let me know I had a shoot, causing me to miss out on work.

That bastard.

When I walked back into my home it was only then that I realised just what I had done; I had quit my job without having a back up plan of any kind. I didn't have a job lined up for me in New York, California or England, I had no way of paying rent except for money saved up and that wasn't a whole lot of cash.
Without thinking it through, letting my hormones and true feelings take over instead of biting the bullet, I could have potentially made myself and the baby homeless.

If any time was the perfect time to tell Billie, it was now.

Instead I searched the web for jobs in California, not caring if it was cleaning toilets in a bar, I just needed something. I scrolled the pages for what seemed like forever, before I eventually stumbled upon a sales assistant job at a small supermarket in a suburb of San Francisco. If I got the job it'd be perfect; I wouldn't be suffocating Billie if I lived that far away, but at the same time I would still be around him because I wasn't too far either.

But when I read the small print my heart dropped. The deadline was tomorrow, and they wanted the CV handed into them personally.

I looked around my dingy apartment and sighed heavily; I knew what I had to do.

***

It didn't take long for someone to bother him, and he had suspected it would happen. He heard an eager knock at the door and found himself walking towards it, wondering why he wanted to answer it.

Did he long for company? Or did he just want to see their disappointed faces as he turned them away?

Billie set aside unsettling thoughts and gave the door a pull. In front of him stood Tré, looking sheepish and guilty.

“Can I come in?” He asked.

Billie looked away slowly, almost like he needed time to think about his options. He sighed heavily and looked back to Tré; nodding. He stepped aside to let the drummer into his house, finding it hard to say anything to what was once his best friend.

“I suppose you know why I'm here,” Tré asked, turning around to face Billie who was closing the door behind them both. Billie shook his head in reply. “Ah,” Tré paused. “Dianne called... about the meeting you had this morning.”

Billie bit his lip and smiled softly. “I bet she did.”

“She just wants to help,” He pleaded, trying to convince Billie but failing. “Like all of us.”

“I'm sure she wants nothing more than for me to help her bank account, Tré,” Billie said truthfully, walking into his living room. “She couldn't give a shit about me or our band, she just cares about the money.”

“True, but in some ways she cares—she wants you healthy to make money.”

Billie rolled his eyes and scoffed. “I'll be sure to give her a thank you card.”

Tré folded his arms and licked his upper lip. “You have to get healthy before you make thank you cards.”

Billie, of course, saw straight through what Tré was trying to do. “I'm not going to rehab before you start that bullshit over again.”

“Mike said you've been doing drugs.”

Billie rolled his eyes again. Had they been talking about him behind his back? Of course they had. “So? I'm FINE!” He shouted.

Tré took a step back as a precaution and put his hands up in the air in defence. “Look dude, your my best friend, your my brother from another mother... I hate seeing you like this, it's breaking my heart, Bill, you know I love you,” He sighed and took a step closer. “We're like family and I can't let you fall like this, no matter how much you think you don't need help... you do... you really do, and you just have to let us help you.”

Billie looked away in dismay, he hated the fact everyone thought he couldn't cope, everyone thought he was weak. But he wasn't... he could do this alone, he could pick himself back up again. “And what if I don't need any help?”

“Then I think you tread a dangerous path alone,” Tré sighed, not wanting to think Billie was completely gone. He still had this glimmer of hope he could help his friend out; no matter how much Billie tried to push him away... but if only he could convince Billie that.

***

I had been this nervous once before, and it was less than a year ago. I had sat in an airport just the same; nervously tapping my foot on the carpeted floor of the waiting room, wondering what would happen once I set foot in a different part of the world. What was waiting for me there?

This time I wasn't so sure.

The room was cold, and almost empty. Outside heavy rain had played it's part and had delayed my flight by a good hour, causing me to read over three copies of celebrity gossip magazines, consume two coffees and a poppy seed bagel.

I flicked threw my phone to find something interesting to do, but boredom had took over. I was almost ready to call Billie simply because I had nothing better to do with my time, but my plan had been to just turn up at his house unexpectedly.

It was a terrible plan, I know.

I sighed heavily and finally hit the call button, my heart thumping with every ring.

“Hello?” He asked, like he didn't know who I was. Didn't he have my number?

“Hey,” Was all I said in reply, hoping he had just not looked at his caller ID.

There was a pause, like Billie was trying to work out who was calling him. “Who is this?” Maybe he didn't have my number.

Did he delete it?

I bit my lip and looked down towards my lap. He had moved on with this new girlfriend of his and he had deleted my number; basically wiping me from his existence. I know I didn't deserve anything from him, but that hurt a lot.

“It's Jenni,” I managed to get out, hoping to God he wouldn't say 'whose Jenni?'.

Another silence loomed over us, but this time it felt more awkward than anything else.

“Oh,” He replied, not even making an effort.

“I just thought I'd call,” I started. “And to let you know that I'm moving back to California,” I explained, getting the shakes from anxiety. “And... that I'm sorry... for everything.”

Another pause. This time the silence was so deafening I thought my heart would explode.

“You shouldn't bother,” He put bluntly. “Don't come over to see me, either.”

I put my hand over my mouth to trap in a cry. The words cut through like a knife; my eyes had started to sting with bitter tears, and it felt like two hands were around my neck choking me. I wish they were.

“You don't mean that,” I tried to plead, unable to hold back the tears.

“I do, so don't bother,” He snapped, before I heard a dull dial tone. He had hung up on me.

I knew I should have got the plane to Birmingham instead.

I clutched the ticket in my hand reading San Francisco and wondered if Billie was right; maybe I shouldn't have bothered. There were more problems back in California than there were in England and New York combined. I'd be fine with the baby without Billie, he didn't have to know.

But he did, didn't he?

Then I realised; this was one risk that was worth taking, and I'll be damned if I was going to let anything stop me this time.