Whatsername

Billie Joe's P.O.V.

I groaned as I sat at a table with Mike in a small club Tre had dragged us to. It had a very shitty music selection, and the combination of that and the strobe lights were giving me a headache. Tre and Kate were off somewhere dancing-- if you can call it dancing. It's more like who can do the worst version of the robot than dancing.

"Boo!" Kate whispered in my ear from behind me.

"Hey," I said as Kate and Tre sat down with us.

"I just had a flash dance showdown with some punk," Tre panted, taking a sip of his beer.

"Did you win?" Mike asked. Tre smirked and nodded lazily.

"So does that mean you guys are all danced out?" I asked hopefully.

Tre grinned. "Nope, we're just taking a break."

"Yep!" Kate giggled.

"Well, I'm gonna go get another beer-- anyone else want one?" Mike asked, standing up. Tre and I raised our hands.

"I'll come with you!" Kate shouted loudly, following Mike towards the bar.

Tre whistled as we watched them walk through the crowd. "Fuck, Kate looks hot tonight."

"Is she drunk?" I asked, wide-eyed after noticing her stumbling behind Mike.

"She's a little tipsy, not drunk," Tre corrected. I rolled my eyes.

"I hope she's 21," I sighed, shaking my head.

"I hope she's at least 18, if you know what I mean." He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"What do you mean?" I asked hesitantly.

"I mean she's hot... and I want to screw her," he explained slowly.

I blinked. "I don't think that's a good idea, Tre."

"Why not?" he whined.

"Because you're just going to complicate things more if you do," I tried to convince him.

"Ah, I see. You're just jealous 'cause I might have a shot with her," he said with a smirk.

"No, Tre--"

"Come on, Franky, let's dance!" Kate shouted, dragging Tre with her.

"Franky?" I asked Mike with a raised eyebrow as he sat back down, handing me my beer.

"Who knows," he said with a shrug. "She's pretty drunk."

"Well, according to Tre, 'she's a little tipsy, not drunk'," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Nope, she's drunk," he said with wide eyes.

"No shit, Sherlock," I mumbled, watching Tre grab Kate's ass as they danced.

"What's wrong with you?" Mike asked curiously.

"Huh?"

"Why do you look so bothered that Tre and Kate are dancing?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I don't!" I argued.

"Yeah, you do. You haven't taken your eyes off of them the whole night!"

I slowly turned my head away from Kate and Tre and towards Mike. "There, happy?"

He smirked."You're jealous, aren't you?"

"No," I scoffed.

"Oh my god, you are jealous," he gasped.

"Why would I be jealous?!"

"Billie, I know there's something going on between you and Kate," he sighed.

"No, there isn't!"

"Come on! It's so obvious!"

I bit my lip and sighed. "It is?"

"Mhmm, every time I'd come back from the bathroom when we were watching that movie the other night, you two would be out of breath, and your eyes would be huge, and did you really think I'd believe swimming?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Fuck," I groaned.

"So what exactly is going on between you two?"

"Truthfully, I have no fucking clue. One minute we were fighting, and then the next minute we were making out on the couch."

"Wait, you two were fighting?" he asked, confused.

"Yeah, about a week ago Kate was cooking dinner and she reached up to get something out of the cabinet and her shirt came up, so I looked--" I paused to see Mike smirking. I rolled my eyes and continued. "And I found these bruises all over her stomach and back."

"And why were you fighting about that?"

"Because she didn't tell me about them!"

"What are you, her father?" Mike laughed.

I shuddered at the thought. "No, you sick fuck!"

"Okay, okay, so what kind of bruises are they?"

"Bad ones," I said with wide eyes.

"Where did she get them from?"

I shrugged. "No idea."

"You mean... they're from before she lost her memory?" he asked, finally sounding concerned.

I nodded. "Mhmm."

"That doesn't sound good. And when you say bad-- do you mean like... non-accidental?"

"Yep." We sat there in silence for a long time, listening to the crappy music and watching Tre grope Kate. I groaned in frustration and took another sip of one of the many beers I'd drank during the night, trying to block out what Tre was currently doing.

"Hey, Bill, look," Mike said, nudging my shoulder and pointing towards the door, where a girl with blonde hair and an Operation Ivy T-shirt was having trouble getting in.

"Great pick, Mike. She's not even old enough to get in," I pointed out, rolling my eyes.

"Well, I better help her out with that, don't ya' think?" He smirked, getting up and marching over to where the girl was now arguing with the bouncers to let her in.

"We're going to hell," I groaned, resting my head in my hands.

"Hey, Billie!" Tre cheered, sitting down next to me with a huge grin.

"Where's Kate?" I asked, starting to panic.

"Bathroom," he mumbled carelessly.

"Oh," I sighed in relief.

"Oooh, hot red head!" Tre squealed, running away.

"The attention span of a squirrel," I muttered, rolling my eyes.

I looked across the room a few minutes later to find Kate standing with Mike and his new friend.

"You know what, I'm gonna go dance with her!" I exclaimed, taking one last swig of my beer, standing up, and making my way toward them.

"Hey, Bill, meet Henderson. She's 19," he said with a smirk, and I rolled my eyes.

"It's really nice to meet you-- I love your band," she said happily.

"It's nice to meet you, too."

"Yeah, Billie, she likes your band. I would too, if I could remember it.... You know, I hate cell phones. They're evil! Fucking evil cell phones, yeah, evil...," Kate trailed off, staring blankly at Henderson's shoes.

"What is she talking about?" Henderson asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm drunk!" Kate shouted matter-of-factly, finally looking up.

"Here, let's go dance," I said, grabbing her hand and leading her to the dance floor before she said anything else to embarrass herself.

"Yay, you're finally dancing! You know, Tre said you weren't gonna dance," she mumbled as I grabbed her waist and we started dancing-- well, as best as we could with her being as drunk as she was. "But I knew you were gonna dance. You know how I knew?" she asked, grinning.

"How'd you know?" I asked, amused.

"'Cause I wanted you to dance-- I hate this song," she said, resting her head on my shoulder.

I laughed. "Me too."

"I don't like dancing with Tre. I like dancing with you," she mumbled into my neck.

I smiled. "I like dancing with you, too."

"You do?" she asked, sounding surprised.

"Yeah."

"I hate this song," she groaned, wrapping her arms around my neck.

"You already said that," I whispered in her ear.

"Oops," she whispered back.

"You look really pretty tonight," I murmured into her hair.

"Thank you, Jillie Boe. You look really pretty tonight, too," she sighed as we continued to drunkenly dance.