To Love/Hate the Spotlight

My legs weren't even feeling the hours I had been walking into night. At first stomping on the pavement, crushing the current rage in my system was a part of my solo therapy. It wasn't so much that I didn't want to go home and, like a good wife, have dinner ready for my guys, but going home in a terrible mood to Billie Joe. I'd snap and remind him his old home wanted nothing to do with him. No matter how much it bothered me, I would never mention it. He's been so good not to bring up Little Jimmy, so I could do the same with Gilman.

All I needed was time to calm down and reorganize my thoughts... but I was so tired.

"How ya doin'?" The Voice asked in a peppy tone.

I grimaced, stepping inside the apartment building.

"What's wrong, Mr. Grumpy Gills? Bad day?"

Climbing up the stairs, I urged myself unresponsive.

"Fine. If you don't want to talk to me, I'll let someone else take over..."

Frightened, my feet came to a stop on the second level.

"Hello, Sugar Plumb."

My heart stopped and broke into a frenzy. The shaking returned.

"No, oh no, no, no, no, no. This isn't happening. Not again." Tears brimming, I sank against the railing, cowering. But from what? My mind was the real threat, and I couldn't run from that.

"What do you mean 'no'? I thought you'd be happy to hear from me. It's been a month." The voice was dirty velvet. Cunning. Demeaning.

I heard it before swearing in my head while I was reciting my vows. Later, shouting on my wedding night. Recently mocking me during the worst pain I've ever experienced.

"Aren't you going to talk to me? You named your kid after me. That should mean something real sentimental."

"This is a low blow-this is a low blow and you fucking know it!" I tried as best I could to keep my volume down.

It-He-whatever sighed. "I guess I'll get back to you later when you're not so grouchy."
And then, it was over.

Taking deep breaths, I straightened myself up and continued on my way like nothing ever happened. If I tried hard enough, the Voice would go away. I was getting a better hold on this. It was just when it uses the people in my life, I... I can't stand it. It was my fault though. I had let today get to me. I turned into a beast. A monster. Swearing. Yelling. Throwing a glass. It wasn't like me. Not really thinking. Allowing my emotions to speak, worry-free of repercussions... I sorta liked it.

My body jolted, coming to a stop. The door to the apartment stood tall. I laughed under my breath; I was still thinking too much.

Fishing out the right key, I sighed. "I've been blind-sided enough for this evening." As soon as I stepped inside, I could tell something was going on. None of the lights were on but light came from the hall. "Hello?... Is anybody home?" My steps were slow with caution, but the rest was curiosity. Easing down the hall, rustling came from both bedrooms. More interested in my own, I peered inside. My eyes widened and my mouth fell open on loose hinges.

Strewn across the floor and bed were all of Billie Joe and I's clothes. Billie was the leader of the mess as he dashed through, engrossed in the task of snatching up random shirts, inspecting them, and either draping it over his arm or tossing it over his shoulder. What he was doing vaguely made sense. It was something I would do for a big date. Realizing this, I groaned. I would be the one folding and re-hanging in the end.

"Billie Joe... why are-" He cut me off before I could finish my inquiry.

"Where have you been?!" He threw his arms up and dropped the selected clothes. But before I could even answer, he was down on the floor and re-gathering his pile.

I decided to crouch down beside him and vie for his attention: Saying his name and playing with the idea of licking his cheek. All he did was babble like a child, so fast that I could only make out "4 AM."

I merely sighed, ignoring my interest. He'd been drinking. He had to be for laying out torture for me in the morning. Kicking off my shoes, I tip-toed onto clean spots on the floor and snaked under the covers, clothes on top and all. It was his wardrobe anarchy.

For no reason, his head popped over the edge. "What are you doing?" He asked, incredulous.

"I'm preparing for sleep, which is something I think you should do also, because Honey, you're not thinking straight."

"No, we gotta pack."

"What? Why do we have to pack?" My eyebrows pulled together. "... are you drunk?"

"No, just a few-" I rolled my eyes as he sprung up and began pacing in the small walking space. "We -holy shit this is amazing- we have to pack-we-just so little time-"

"Well, this is useless... Mike!" I called loud enough that caused Billie to stop and stare.

"What?" Mike tripped into the room, catching himself on the door frame.

"Is there a warrant out for you both? What the fuck is going on?"

It was obvious Mike was the calmer of the two. He turned to glare at Billie Joe, shocked. "You haven't told her?" Mike popped him on the back of the head. "Bill, she's your wife. Spit it out, man!"

Billie nodded, embarrassed. "I know, I know, I'm sorry."

My patience was wearing thin. "Tell me what?"

"They were canceled!"

"Who was canceled?"

"I still have a lot to do," Mike announced and left for his room.

Sitting up, arms folded, I quirked a brow. "... well?"

Billie took a deep breath, preventing himself from another babbling spree. "Okay... I got a call from Pat. The opening band for a huge tour fucked up -possession and battery or something or other- and the headliners need a replacement fast, so -and you're gonna love this- they chose us!" In his excitement, he pounced on top of me, smiling like a fool.

It wasn't registering. Billie Joe was on me, happy. The aftermath of a tornado devastated my room, and all of my internal organs were spazzing out, at least that's what it felt like.

"What do you think?" He single-bounced, waking me from a short trance. With my temporary spout of depression, I've been craving for something like this. The fantasy aspect of life was so far before and now so close. This tiny bit of news was electrocuting my brain, like our first kiss. For weeks I had been avoiding to look at Billie Joe, much less touched him. He doesn't look extremely different from when I first laid eyes on him, but my recent transgression had turned me away. I wasn't attractive enough just like I thought when I was a fading school girl. I look up at him now and all I want is him.

Saying "Congratulations" was not what I wanted to do with my mouth. Hugging him was not what I wanted to do with my arms and hands. Jumping for joy was not even close to the desire of wrapping my legs around his waist.

"Becky?" He had that worried, little smile as his fingertips ran down my cheek. My focus burned around him. "Are you alright?"

So consumed in biting my lip for restraint, I tried to fight my humanity. (Good thing he wasn't wearing eyeliner because it would make it that much harder.)

"Mike!"

"What is it?!"

"I think I put her into shock!"

"I'll be right there!"

All this self-control... It' martyrdom... Why am I going against nature?

"Billie Joe?"

"Yeah?"

"Kiss me." I locked my arms around his neck and pulled him, crashing into my lips. But before I could even remotely enjoy it, he separated.

"This is new," he said with a laugh.

My head shook, wanting nothing but his pouty lips on mine. "I haven't been a junior for awhile."

"Wh-" Animal instinct knocked him back, me straddling his hips. My tongue wasn't the Begging for Entrance type, and he knew what I wanted the second I pinned him down. Call it pent-up sexual frustration, but the fact that everything -literally everything in the life we built together- was skyrocketing to something so... wow. I've explored the unknown as far as academic forbidden romances and now we were together treading through a dreamlike shadow of a doubt. Keeping our mouths mashing together was solidifying.

I gasped with a sharp intake of breath when the hardened flesh of his brushed against my inner thigh.

"Is she still in shock- whoa-okay! Bill, I told you I'm not into that." Mike's surprise made us giggle into each other's mouths. "Ignore me then!" We were sure Mike stormed out.

Blood rushing. His hands wandering. An evil grin fighting against the pressure of his lips. In one quick movement, I was dragging my teeth down his neck.

"Billie..." I purred, laying a moist trail across his throat.

"Mmm?" He moaned in my ear, hot exhales tingling down my spine. Going for the neck, he's putty in my hands.

"Where..." I nipped at his thump thump thumping vein. "Are we going?"

His fingers pulled and tangled my hair. Gasping when I vigorously sucked the sensitive skin. He tasted bitter. My love for smoke clung to his pores.

"Billie...?"

"East," he managed to choke out.

"Who's the main act?"

"Not telling you," he gasped.

"Mhmmm..." I scooted back, running my nail down his shirt. "And when are leaving?" My voice softened. One hand massaged the bulge in his pants and the other ripped at his belt. He bucked his hips. I felt slightly guilty when he did that. I've been so neglectful. But I'll just have to make up for it. What a drag... "Billie, when?"

He huffed and propped himself up on his elbows. A light sheen of sweat tracing his hairline. "Can I tell you in five, ten minutes?"

My grip released his belt buckle. "When?"

"... 4 AM."

"4 AM?!" My priorities changed in an instant. "That's hours from now!" I crawled off of him and stumbled to the door, despite his protests.

"Where are you going?" He whined, falling back and covering his face.

"I have to take a shower and then pack."

"Shower?" He emerged and turned his head interested. "Want company?"

"Maybe if you told me earlier."