Having a Split Personality

When Mike got to Billie's house, he walked inside, knowing he didn't need to knock. He made his way downstairs to Billie's basement where they always had band practice since it was soundproof.

Mike saw Billie and Tré waiting for him. They stopped talking as soon as he opened the door. That made him suspicious.

"What were you guys talking about?" he asked them.

"Nothing," they replied in unison.

Mike stared at them, Billie in particular. He would've been the one whose idea they were talking about. Even though he was the hardest to tell what he was thinking, Mike thought it was too important for him to hide this time. He was right.

"I-I'm-we're worried about you," Billie told him.

Mike had been fearing that they would say something like that soon, but he calmly said, "Why? There's nothing wrong with me."

Billie sighed and ran his hand through his hair, a habit of his. "You've just been acting strange lately," he said, not looking at Mike. "And not just forgetting about band practice." Tré looked like he was going to open his mouth to say something, but thought better otherwise. "Can't you tell us, your two best friends and band mates who have been together for years?"

Mike didn't say anything. Then he felt cold all over and he heard himself say, "No. If I wanted to fucking tell you, I would. It's none of your business. So just fuck off."

Billie looked startled, almost as if Mike had just struck him. "W-what?"

"I-I don't know. I-I don't know why I said that," Mike said hurriedly and truthfully.

"Mike, tell me the fucking truth."

"It-it is..."

"Tell me the truth!" Billie shouted, causing Mike to step back in fear. Billie noticed and softened a bit. "Just tell me, I'm worried, I just don't know."

"Stop worrying about me," Mike heard himself saying again. "I don't you or anyone else to worry about me. Fuck you all." He started to turn around to leave. Billie grabbed his shoulder to stop him and he did. He slowly turned around. "Just let me go," he muttered so that only Billie could hear. Billie only tightened his grip.

"I'm not letting you go until you tell me what is wrong," he replied stubbornly.

Mike shook his head and recovered himself. "I'm sorry about that. I don't know what came over me..."

Billie furrowed his brows in puzzlement. Tré was even more confused, and was not sure what he should do.

"Let me go," Mike suddenly said.

"No, Mike." Billie was not going to let him go until he explained himself, and Mike realized this.

"Fine then, we'll do this the hard way." Mike punched Billie in the nose. Billie let go of Mike so he could hold his nose and grunted in pain. Tears started to make their way out of his eyes, both from pain and from anxiety over his friend. They mingled into the blood flowing freely from his nose. Mike then grabbed his neck and squeezed it. "In your own words, 'fuck off and die,'" he snarled, giving one last squeeze before hurling Billie to the ground.

Tré was going to punch Mike, but he had already left, leaving Tré stunned.

'How had he moved so fast?' Tré thought to himself before helping Billie take care of his injuries.

"That's it," Billie mumbled, "I've had enough of him. He's no longer part of the band."

"Bill, are you sure?" Tré asked, his voice shaking.

"Yes, I am. He's not just having a bad day; he meant to do that. He meant to hurt me."