Christie Road

"I don't care how much you like her, Bill, we can't drag her all over the country with us! We have to pay for food, there's already no room in the damn van, and what happens when she gets bored and wants to stop at the fucking mall for retail therapy?" Mike's face was red, the veins standing out on his neck and forehead. It was unheard of for him to get angry, but he was plenty mad now.

They stood beside the open van in the parking lot behind the bar, all but a few pieces of equipment stored inside. Tre had gone back in the building to find his wallet.

"I know, but Mike, I can't just screw her and then tell her to go home, can I?" Billie's voice was plaintive, and he felt like an animal backed into a corner. "What kind of guy would that make me?"

"You should have thought about that before you unzipped your pants!" Mike sputtered.

"Actually, she's the one who unzipped them," Billie replied, not meaning it to sound funny.

Mike stared at him for a moment and then burst out laughing, shaking his head. "Unfuckingbelievable, man. How did I know that if anything was going to mess this up, it would be you and your dick?"

The smaller boy's face darkened, his brows dipping as the remark sank in. "Dude, that's just way over the line. You know damn well that she wasn't just a fuck. I was dating her before we ever left home!"

"Oh, well, then that's different. Because you LOVE her, right?" Mike said sarcastically.

It was the straw that broke the camel's back. Billie lunged at his friend, his palms connecting solidly with Mike's chest, shoving him backwards into the side of the van. The bassist staggered, regained his balance, and answered the push with a punch to Billie's gut, doubling him over.

"Fuck you!" Billie gasped, clutching his stomach and gasping for air. "You're so goddamned jealous you can't see, because you think I'm getting more attention than you. Who the fuck cares? It's about the music, not getting laid!"

"Exactly my point!" Mike shouted, his fists still raised and ready in case Billie came back at him again. "That's why you need to focus on this tour and get her the hell out of here!"

The words were out of his mouth when they heard the back door of the bar slam shut. Tre and Lani stood wide-eyed on the sidewalk, clearly unsure what they had missed. She looked over at Billie uncertainly.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "What are you arguing about?"

Billie and Mike glared at each other for a moment, trying to collect themselves. "Why don't you tell her, since it's so important to you?" Billie hissed between his teeth. He wasn't about to be blamed for this one.

Normally, Tre would have done something stupid to break the tension, but even he seemed to realize that whatever had happened, it was serious. "Look, why don't we just get the last of our stuff packed, and then we can go get some food and talk about it, okay?"

"Good idea," Mike growled. "Just one question--how do we fit everybody in the van?"

Tre stared at him in confusion. "Dude, just like we always have--you drive, Billie navigates, and I'll sit in the back being annoying! Am I missing something?"

The threat on Billie's face wasn't enough to stop the answer from popping out of Mike's mouth. "And where's she going to sit?" His head tilted toward Lani, who edged closer to Billie's side, slipping her arm around his.

"Wait, wait just a minute," Tre said, hands up in surrender. "Look, if she wants to come have dinner with us, she can just take her car, no problem."

Mike snickered, but there was no humor. "You don't get it. We now have a--a roadie, if you want to say it nicely. Except I wouldn't count on any help lugging the gear."

"Watch your mouth, Mike, I swear I'll pop you right in the face if you don't," Billie growled. Lani's eyes were huge, and she retreated behind him, eyeing Mike fearfully.

"What did I do?" she asked. It sounded as if she might burst into tears. "Why are you so mad at me?"

The tall boy's lips curled back from his teeth in an effort to bite back the words that wanted so much to be spoken. Finally he spun on his heel, rounding the front of the van and throwing himself into the driver's seat. The door slammed shut, hard, and he sat staring straight ahead, refusing to look at her.

"Wait here a second," Billie said, giving her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. He followed his friend's footsteps and thrust his head in the driver's window. "Okay, I know we've been friends a long time, so I'm willing to assume you've gone temporarily insane. But hear this, Dirnt--no one, and I mean no one--talks to her that way without my foot up their ass. This is not your decision, and--"

"You mean it's not my band, don't you?" Mike said, slamming his fist on the wheel. "Because let me remind you, I've spent just as many fucking hours making this happen as you have, and just because I don't write the songs doesn't mean I haven't made my share of sacrifices. The least you could have done was talked to me about it instead of just telling me this is how it's going to be! Or maybe you don't think I'm worth even that!"

Billie was stunned to see the shimmer of tears standing in his friend's eyes, and at that moment, he realized he'd hurt him far more than angered him. And knowing it made him sick at his stomach.