Don't Say I Love You
Chapter One: Don’t Say I Love You
Chapter One: Don’t Say I Love You
Yesterday, noon:
Billie’s delicate hands stroked the lengths of my sides once more; he glanced right into my eyes.
“Let’s make this one hell of a day.” His eyebrows hitched pleasantly, and his tongue ran teasingly along his lower lip.
“You bet.” I replied, leaning into him and wrapping my arms around his waist. I gasped. Warmth ran right along my spine then, and rushed back up to where my heart was, like a lustful tidal wave. Billie smiled at me beautifully, the sides of his face going red with an adorable blush. The line of his gum showed a little when he smiled, and I almost laughed at how unbelievably and bizarrely attractive he was.
“A day ...unlike any other..!” Billie told me.
“Not like any other...” I pushed my lips against his, my breath pulling in.
“That’s what I like to hear, y’know?” Billie murmured against my lips. I nodded, too deep in all of this to reply with words. After all, Billie was worth way more than simple words.
I pushed him further back into the wall, and straddled his legs to get closer.
“I love you.” The words slipped right out of my soul, I would have eaten them if I could.
Don’t Say I Love You
It was after 4 pm, and I was still trying to tune my drum set, for fuck sakes. You see, it was usually the instrument and record company technicians that did all of this shit, but since we had a performance in, like, eight hours, I figured I’d rather do the job myself than wait around for them.
With a sigh, I began to twist the metal key on the right side of my snare. I tapped the drum stick against the head with soft, ghost notes. It still sounded fucked... maybe I needed a new drumhead.
I tossed the stick onto the ground, and headed for the door. The corridor was pretty empty, so I just walked quickly down the length of it. I stopped at the end before the tech office. I gave a loud knock.
The door flew open immediately. “Well, well, you must be Tre’ Cool,” Said the person who had answered the door. I blinked, confused. I couldn’t remember this guy ever working here; he was probably new. He was tall, though not in an awkward way, he was kinda willowy actually. He had big, bright purple hair, which faded to neon pink and then blonde at the tips. The roots were blonde as well. Eyeliner rimmed his light blue eyes, and assorted silver facial piercings gleamed against his skin. He was dressed in a small white shirt, which hung off his body because he was as thin as a rake, and tight, black, leather jeans clung to his ultra-thin legs. Tattoos that read ‘Green Day’ marked his arms almost all over.
I gazed at him for a moment, then smiled to show politeness, “Yeah, that’s, uh... me.” I said, with some difficulty. The guy gave me this funny look, as if he did not like what he saw. “I’m Dookie.”
I bit down on my tongue, clasped my hand over my mouth and doubled over with a silent laugh.
“Somethin’ funny, Frank?” The guy said.
“Uh..! Well...!” I sputtered, but stood straight again. I ground my teeth together. What the fuck is this weirdo?! WHO?!
“What?” His tanned arms fell from their fold.
“Okay, okay...” I seemed to have calmed down. (But seriously, what the hell?!) “So... Doo...kie. Um, I’m here to... um. I’m here to... ask for—a new... drumhead. For my snare.”
The Dookie guy glared at me, his lip curling a little. “Why di’n’t you say so?”
I suppressed another laugh, “Sorry about...”
“...Save that crap.” He turned, sweeping a strand of waist-length, volume-big purple hair about his shoulder. The door, once he had slinked his tiny ass through it, swept closed in my face. I stared in bewilderment. Was he that pissed about me laughing at him? Oh perleassssee. I stared at the door for a moment, though just as I had shrugged, and began contemplating the idea of walking off, the door swung open once more. Hmm.
“There’s your head.” The Dookie guy told me. His arms were outstretched, lifting his hands, which held a thin cardboard box. I took the package, “Thank you.”
I turned and began to walk away.
“That all?” Dookie said from behind me.
“Nah... I mean, yeah, it is.” I yelled back.
Dookie lifted his head, turning up his nose. Don’t know if that was supposed to be some form of acknowledgement, but, it’s fine, it’s fine.
Once I had returned to the recording room, Mike was seated on a stool, gazing intently at his bass. He was dressed in rock star black and gold and his hair looked thick, blonde and rich as usual.
“Yo, Mike-ayy.” I said in greeting.
“Hey, when did you get here?” Mike replied, confused.
“Before you did. I just went to get a new drumhead for my snare, it wouldn’t tune properly.”
Mike gave a distracted nod, “Where’s Billie Joe?” he dismissed.
I shrugged, “I was round his house yesterday. We made out.”
“I can tell.” Mike laughed, his eyes squinting up with discomfort.
“Anyway, he should be here soon, so...” I sat on my drum throne and picked up the discarded sticks. The shaft whirled about my finger as I spun the left drum stick around. “You want to go for Longview?”
“Yeah,” said Mike. “I could do with some Dookie.”
“Funny you say that... have you met the new guy in the tech team? His name’s Dookie..! Can you believe it? I’m not chatting shit; well, I guess I sort of am... since that’s his name. Dookie, shit—same thing!” I told Mike.
He threw his head back with a chuckle, “Wow, brother.”
I laughed a little more, and then began drumming some fills on my kit.
“That isn’t Longview...” Mike said. “This is Longview.” His fingers found the first chord on the bass. I whacked my hands about aimlessly to halt him, “Hang on, let me play the tom and bass intro, then you lead in with it and drop the bass.” I began to bang on my toms, and kick the pedal for the bass drum, Mike followed on cue, with the... sexy bassline. I grinned, “Hell yeah.”
The door banged open, “I sit around and watch the tube but nothing’s on.” Billie eyed me mysteriously, yet still in the most attractive way possible. “I change the channels for an hour or two.”Mike carried on with the sexy bass.
“Twiddle my thumbs just for a bit, I’m sick of all the same old shit. In the house with unlocked doors, and I’m fucking lazy... Bite my lip and close my eyes, take me away to paradise. I’m so damn bored, I’m going blind—and I smell like shiiiiiit.”
We all stopped playing then, as if on cue, and laughed.
“Rad, guys.” I praised.
Billie dropped his mic and let the Fender Stratocaster Blue hang around his waist from the strap. He walked over to me, gripping the guitar’s neck and smiling. “I told you yesterday was good.”
I grinned, almost uncontrollably. “I made it the best night—“
Mike cleared his throat, “I’m gonna go get a Corona from the fridge. You guys want anything?”
Billie looked momentarily distracted, “hmm, I’ll have one of those sharp Mexican Tequilas.”
“I’ll have a Bourbon, ‘cause I’m old.” I laughed. Billie placed his guitar onto the ground and hopped over to me like a little bunny. He swung a leg over my lap and moved himself so he was atop my thighs.
“You’re still hot, very...” Billie leaned close to me. I ruffled his hair with my drum sticks, so it went all big and messy. “I can’t even word it... how I feel about you, Mr. Armstrong.”
Mike literally ran out of the room at that point.
I gave a frightening chuckle. “You want to take the action where it matters the most?”
Billie bit his lip, glanced down. “I don’t know..!” He said, blushing deeply, his beautiful dark eyelashes flicking over his eyes, and causing his hair to twitch. He looked up at me and blushed deeper, like he had yesterday. “I mean... I do love you and everything...”
I screamed in panic, and felt this pain surge through me. I gasped again, as my feet left the floor and rushed upwards. A stream of bile forced its way up inside me; I pushed it back, deep down. What the fuck was going on here? My feet hit solid steel a moment later. I yelled from the pain the fall inflicted on my fragile kneecaps. A mist blurred my vision almost entirely...
I sat up bolt straight and shook my head, I swear I could feel dizzy stars scattering out of my hair.
“Welcome, Dookie here.” A familiar voice said.
I glanced up at his face in terror. There stood the very woman-like Dookie, who had no surname.
“What the fuck is up? I just fell right in here!”
Dookie stepped closer to me. I could see the room we were in was completely enclosed by steel walls, with no sign of entry or exit. “You said three very, very bad words today. And for that, you shall be severely punished.”
“Oh, Lord.” I muttered, “Hope it isn’t Capital Punishment.”
“That isn’t something to be laughed at, though the punishment you will receive is much more extreme.” Dookie retorted.
I laughed mockingly, “What bullshit are you chatting about? What punishment?”
“That’s for me to decide now, not you.” Dookie grinned.
“You’re giving me a punishment? Okay, okay. Let me just pinch myself, imagine it’s all a dream, wake up in my bed...” I pinched my arm very hard. I remained in the room, surprise much. “Shit... it isn’t a dream, is it?”
There was silence. Dookie shook his head slowly. “Now, cut the crap, I’m about to reveal your punishment.”
I waited, a shudder of fear passed through me. How could I possibly be punished for saying three words? But everybody’s said more than three words in their lives... maybe it was three particular words... like—I LOVE YOU. Now I knew.
Yesterday, noon:
Billie’s delicate hands stroked the lengths of my sides once more; he glanced right into my eyes.
“Let’s make this one hell of a day.” His eyebrows hitched pleasantly, and his tongue ran teasingly along his lower lip.
“You bet.” I replied, leaning into him and wrapping my arms around his waist. I gasped. Warmth ran right along my spine then, and rushed back up to where my heart was, like a lustful tidal wave. Billie smiled at me beautifully, the sides of his face going red with an adorable blush. The line of his gum showed a little when he smiled, and I almost laughed at how unbelievably and bizarrely attractive he was.
“A day ...unlike any other..!” Billie told me.
“Not like any other...” I pushed my lips against his, my breath pulling in.
“That’s what I like to hear, y’know?” Billie murmured against my lips. I nodded, too deep in all of this to reply with words. After all, Billie was worth way more than simple words.
I pushed him further back into the wall, and straddled his legs to get closer.
“I love you.” The words slipped right out of my soul, I would have eaten them if I could.
Don’t Say I Love You
It was after 4 pm, and I was still trying to tune my drum set, for fuck sakes. You see, it was usually the instrument and record company technicians that did all of this shit, but since we had a performance in, like, eight hours, I figured I’d rather do the job myself than wait around for them.
With a sigh, I began to twist the metal key on the right side of my snare. I tapped the drum stick against the head with soft, ghost notes. It still sounded fucked... maybe I needed a new drumhead.
I tossed the stick onto the ground, and headed for the door. The corridor was pretty empty, so I just walked quickly down the length of it. I stopped at the end before the tech office. I gave a loud knock.
The door flew open immediately. “Well, well, you must be Tre’ Cool,” Said the person who had answered the door. I blinked, confused. I couldn’t remember this guy ever working here; he was probably new. He was tall, though not in an awkward way, he was kinda willowy actually. He had big, bright purple hair, which faded to neon pink and then blonde at the tips. The roots were blonde as well. Eyeliner rimmed his light blue eyes, and assorted silver facial piercings gleamed against his skin. He was dressed in a small white shirt, which hung off his body because he was as thin as a rake, and tight, black, leather jeans clung to his ultra-thin legs. Tattoos that read ‘Green Day’ marked his arms almost all over.
I gazed at him for a moment, then smiled to show politeness, “Yeah, that’s, uh... me.” I said, with some difficulty. The guy gave me this funny look, as if he did not like what he saw. “I’m Dookie.”
I bit down on my tongue, clasped my hand over my mouth and doubled over with a silent laugh.
“Somethin’ funny, Frank?” The guy said.
“Uh..! Well...!” I sputtered, but stood straight again. I ground my teeth together. What the fuck is this weirdo?! WHO?!
“What?” His tanned arms fell from their fold.
“Okay, okay...” I seemed to have calmed down. (But seriously, what the hell?!) “So... Doo...kie. Um, I’m here to... um. I’m here to... ask for—a new... drumhead. For my snare.”
The Dookie guy glared at me, his lip curling a little. “Why di’n’t you say so?”
I suppressed another laugh, “Sorry about...”
“...Save that crap.” He turned, sweeping a strand of waist-length, volume-big purple hair about his shoulder. The door, once he had slinked his tiny ass through it, swept closed in my face. I stared in bewilderment. Was he that pissed about me laughing at him? Oh perleassssee. I stared at the door for a moment, though just as I had shrugged, and began contemplating the idea of walking off, the door swung open once more. Hmm.
“There’s your head.” The Dookie guy told me. His arms were outstretched, lifting his hands, which held a thin cardboard box. I took the package, “Thank you.”
I turned and began to walk away.
“That all?” Dookie said from behind me.
“Nah... I mean, yeah, it is.” I yelled back.
Dookie lifted his head, turning up his nose. Don’t know if that was supposed to be some form of acknowledgement, but, it’s fine, it’s fine.
Once I had returned to the recording room, Mike was seated on a stool, gazing intently at his bass. He was dressed in rock star black and gold and his hair looked thick, blonde and rich as usual.
“Yo, Mike-ayy.” I said in greeting.
“Hey, when did you get here?” Mike replied, confused.
“Before you did. I just went to get a new drumhead for my snare, it wouldn’t tune properly.”
Mike gave a distracted nod, “Where’s Billie Joe?” he dismissed.
I shrugged, “I was round his house yesterday. We made out.”
“I can tell.” Mike laughed, his eyes squinting up with discomfort.
“Anyway, he should be here soon, so...” I sat on my drum throne and picked up the discarded sticks. The shaft whirled about my finger as I spun the left drum stick around. “You want to go for Longview?”
“Yeah,” said Mike. “I could do with some Dookie.”
“Funny you say that... have you met the new guy in the tech team? His name’s Dookie..! Can you believe it? I’m not chatting shit; well, I guess I sort of am... since that’s his name. Dookie, shit—same thing!” I told Mike.
He threw his head back with a chuckle, “Wow, brother.”
I laughed a little more, and then began drumming some fills on my kit.
“That isn’t Longview...” Mike said. “This is Longview.” His fingers found the first chord on the bass. I whacked my hands about aimlessly to halt him, “Hang on, let me play the tom and bass intro, then you lead in with it and drop the bass.” I began to bang on my toms, and kick the pedal for the bass drum, Mike followed on cue, with the... sexy bassline. I grinned, “Hell yeah.”
The door banged open, “I sit around and watch the tube but nothing’s on.” Billie eyed me mysteriously, yet still in the most attractive way possible. “I change the channels for an hour or two.”Mike carried on with the sexy bass.
“Twiddle my thumbs just for a bit, I’m sick of all the same old shit. In the house with unlocked doors, and I’m fucking lazy... Bite my lip and close my eyes, take me away to paradise. I’m so damn bored, I’m going blind—and I smell like shiiiiiit.”
We all stopped playing then, as if on cue, and laughed.
“Rad, guys.” I praised.
Billie dropped his mic and let the Fender Stratocaster Blue hang around his waist from the strap. He walked over to me, gripping the guitar’s neck and smiling. “I told you yesterday was good.”
I grinned, almost uncontrollably. “I made it the best night—“
Mike cleared his throat, “I’m gonna go get a Corona from the fridge. You guys want anything?”
Billie looked momentarily distracted, “hmm, I’ll have one of those sharp Mexican Tequilas.”
“I’ll have a Bourbon, ‘cause I’m old.” I laughed. Billie placed his guitar onto the ground and hopped over to me like a little bunny. He swung a leg over my lap and moved himself so he was atop my thighs.
“You’re still hot, very...” Billie leaned close to me. I ruffled his hair with my drum sticks, so it went all big and messy. “I can’t even word it... how I feel about you, Mr. Armstrong.”
Mike literally ran out of the room at that point.
I gave a frightening chuckle. “You want to take the action where it matters the most?”
Billie bit his lip, glanced down. “I don’t know..!” He said, blushing deeply, his beautiful dark eyelashes flicking over his eyes, and causing his hair to twitch. He looked up at me and blushed deeper, like he had yesterday. “I mean... I do love you and everything...”
I screamed in panic, and felt this pain surge through me. I gasped again, as my feet left the floor and rushed upwards. A stream of bile forced its way up inside me; I pushed it back, deep down. What the fuck was going on here? My feet hit solid steel a moment later. I yelled from the pain the fall inflicted on my fragile kneecaps. A mist blurred my vision almost entirely...
I sat up bolt straight and shook my head, I swear I could feel dizzy stars scattering out of my hair.
“Welcome, Dookie here.” A familiar voice said.
I glanced up at his face in terror. There stood the very woman-like Dookie, who had no surname.
“What the fuck is up? I just fell right in here!”
Dookie stepped closer to me. I could see the room we were in was completely enclosed by steel walls, with no sign of entry or exit. “You said three very, very bad words today. And for that, you shall be severely punished.”
“Oh, Lord.” I muttered, “Hope it isn’t Capital Punishment.”
“That isn’t something to be laughed at, though the punishment you will receive is much more extreme.” Dookie retorted.
I laughed mockingly, “What bullshit are you chatting about? What punishment?”
“That’s for me to decide now, not you.” Dookie grinned.
“You’re giving me a punishment? Okay, okay. Let me just pinch myself, imagine it’s all a dream, wake up in my bed...” I pinched my arm very hard. I remained in the room, surprise much. “Shit... it isn’t a dream, is it?”
There was silence. Dookie shook his head slowly. “Now, cut the crap, I’m about to reveal your punishment.”
I waited, a shudder of fear passed through me. How could I possibly be punished for saying three words? But everybody’s said more than three words in their lives... maybe it was three particular words... like—I LOVE YOU. Now I knew.