Green Eyed & Vindictive

Nights turned into weeks, weeks to months. I spoke with Adrienne as much as she allowed me to, and even the boys if that was even possible. She still held true to her story, and I was only able to sleep in a drunken stupor.

Mike had become more and more distant, causing the drinking to get worse. I had come to the conclusion that I could no longer depend on him to keep me going. Partially drunk, and a little dizzy, I grabbed what little possessions I had with me and walked out the front door.

"Where are you going?" he called out from the front door. I turned and looked at him distastefully, wondering where our friendship took a bad fall. "You're a bit wasted, and it's not safe for you to be on the road."

"Like you give two fucks about me, man," I spat, and even to my own ears, the words were a bit slurred. "I know I'm hard to deal with half the time, but the entire time I've been here since that night at the diner, you've become cold and distant. I ..." I sighed, hurting just thinking on the words. "I don't even know who you are anymore. You know how hard it is for me to just open up. I've trusted you for nearly two decades, and yet, you fucking treat me as if I were a nobody."

He started to say something, but I held up a hand to stop him. "Don't bother, Mike. I'm leaving. I'll see you when the tour starts. Don't bother calling me, or trying to find me. I'm done." Staring at the man I always considered a brother for a moment longer, I sighed once more and carefully started for my car again.

Once I was on the road, I started thinking about where I was going. I couldn't go to Tre's place, Mike was over there almost all the time. Home was obviously not a choice. Maybe motels, or a hotel? No, someone would recognize my car. Pulling to the side of the road, I shut my car off and rested my head against the steering wheel, closing my eyes and started taking deep breaths. "Come on, Armstrong. Get your shit together.." I mumbled.

I jumped a bit when there was a light tapping on my window. Starting the car just enough to roll down the window, I stared up at the unknown woman with a saddened, drunk expression. "Yes?" I said, barely able to keep her from becoming double.

"Are you alright, dear? You were swerving a bit, and now you're barely able to look at me straight," she said, sounding a bit worried.

"I'm not okay. I'm slightly wasted, my best friend has become a stranger, and my wife is a deranged bitch," I said, closing my eyes tightly for a moment before reopening them. "If there's any way you can change all that and take me back to when everything was so right, I'd gladly appreciate it."

She smiled softly at me for a moment, her eyes almost seeming like they were filling with tears. "If only. Look, I live out in the boonies practically. If you need a place to crash, I'll gladly open my home to you."

I studied her face for a long time, wondering if this is was Mike's funny little idea. Not thinking of any better option, I obliged. "Sounds great. You have a car, or do you need a lift?" She stated she had a neighbor drop her off, and that he was late picking her up. "Here," I said, unbuckling and getting out. "You drive. My eyes are screwing up a bit, and I don't want to put you in danger."

"Smart man," she said softly, causing me to look at her from the far side of the car.

"If only," I whispered back, sliding into the passenger side. Buckling back up, I rested my head on the window, watching the life of Santa Fe move somewhat slowly. Before I even could say thanks, I was asleep.

Time Elapse
I was awoken by someone shaking me lightly, and I slowly opened my eyes. "What's going on?" I asked, squinting a bit as I looked around.

"Just arrived to my humble aboad. You look heavier than what I'm used to carrying, so I thought it wise to awaken you," the woman said, causing me to look at her. WIth a bit clearer vision, I saw that she was a few years older than myself, her eyes were a hazel-greenish color, and her red hair was starting to grey. "The name's Janice, by the way. Janice Wilson," she went on, sticking her hand out.

Staring at her outstretched hand for a moment, I took it, shook it up and down once, and said, "Billie Joe Armstrong." Looking away from Janice, I looked up at the house and noticed that, even for being out of the big city, it was still a reasonably nice home. There were two-stories, and a wrap around porch, the siding was mostly a faded red brick, whereas some parts seemed to have brownish bricks. There were no animals around except for maybe a stray cat and what appeared to be a Labrador-malamute mix on the front porch.

"The dog's name is Ginger," Janice said, causing me to turn my gaze back to her. "The cat is a stray I have been keeping an eye on for a month or two. He goes by Beau." I nodded, unsure of what to say. Before I could conjure together a coherent thought, there was a loud bang from the front door and out came a set of teenaged twins. Two girls.

"Mom! Susannah keeps taking my high tops! You know the ones that were ... specially..." one started, stopping when her eyes landed on the car, then my face. "What's going on?" she asked, causing me to swing my door open, unbuckle, and get out of the car.

"Billie Joe Armstrong. Frontman and lead guitarist for Green Day," I said, closing my door and walking around the front of it. "Your mother saw I was a bit out of it and offered me to stay here for a while until I got back on my feet." Walking quickly, I made it only as far as the sidewalk up to the stairs before I ended up falling to my knees and the world started spinning.

"Billie, are you alright?" I heard Janice ask before feeling warm hands on my shoulder.

"I just need to stay still for a minute. The alcohol hasn't completely died out of my system yet," I replied, resting my elbows on my thighs and covering my eyes with my hands.

"Girls, go get a pail of warm water and a couple of wash rags. Clear off the couch first and grab a glass of water and the bottle of Advil," Janice called to her daughters. Before I could stop them, they were already gone.

Helping me to my feet, Janice grabbed my arm, draped it over her shoulder and helped me up the front steps. "You may be somewhat better, but I was married to a raging alcoholic for twenty years to know you're still under a bit. I can tell you don't drink much, but I know what I'm doing."

"What happened? If I may be so bold to ask," I said, letting her guide me over to the couch and help me sit down.

"Harold went on a rampage one night and drove into a ditch after swerving to miss a semi. The car was already in horrid condition, so not long after it crashed, the car went up in flames. I miss the old ass but at the same time, I'm sorta glad he's gone."

I remained silent, unsure of what to say. After a moment of silence, Janice patted my leg and stood up, calling out for her daughters.

As the next couple of hours went on, it was almost a blur. I must have dosed off sometime because the next thing I knew, I was being shaken again. "Dinner's ready, Mr.. Armstrong." It was one of the twins. I think she said her name was Eva, but I could be wrong.

"Just call me Billie," I said, maneuvering a bit so I could get up off the couch. Before I could make it into the kitchen, I heard one of the girls say, "He used to be such a great role model for me. Until I read he beat his wife for no reason." I felt my heart break a little, but I didn't let it show. I was not going to become the man my father would have been sorry to know, let alone be related to.