Yoko
Fight Club.
The sunlight attacked him. It crept sneakily through the blinds, across the floor, and struck Tre directly in the eyes. He cursed and rolled over onto his stomach, seeking a cooler spot on his pillow.
But it was no use. He was awake, hungover, and extremely annoyed to find yet another girl in his bed.
Another of Adrienne's blind dates. Silly, boring and absolutely beautiful. And, to make matters worse, she was smiling at him.
Fuck.
"Good morning." She cooed. Tre sighed.
"Right back atcha." He mumbled with all the enthusiasm he could muster.
She kissed him, then got up and proceeded to gather her clothes from around the room, while Tre lazily tried to remember her name. But it didn't matter that he couldn't, because ten minutes later, she was out the door and he in the shower.
***
Billie, Mike and Adrienne were waiting for him in the kitchen. Tre hesitated for a split-second when he saw them there, sitting at the table with such serious faces you would have imagined they were at a funeral.
Taking all aspects of his situation into consideration, Tre decided his best chance was to act natural.
Mhmm. Because you're so good at that.
"So...who died?" He asked, trying for some laughter.
Dead silence. Not good.
"That's what we're trying to figure out." Billie said cryptically.
"Well, as long as dear Aunt Mabel's written me into the Will, I'll try not to break out sobbing when you tell me." Tre replied, rummaging through the fridge so he wouldn't have to look at them.
He felt, rather than heard, Adrienne's exasperated sigh. Which was, for some reason, accompanied by the scraping of chairs. Tre refused to panic.
But Billie and Adrienne had simply left the kitchen, and Mike sat at the table, staring quietly at Tre. He looked almost sad. Tre felt an incredible urge to hug him, but something inside him hesitated, and the moment was gone.
"You're not even going to call that girl, are you?" Mike asked in a low voice.
Tre shrugged, then shook his head.
"Not likely...I couldn't even remember her name, to be honest."
"Well, why the fuck not?"
"Mike...she was boring. Girls like her are all over the fucking place. All they want is someone famous. And lately, it seems like you lot are pushing them all at me."
"What gives you that idea?"
"Don't play dumb, Mike. It doesn't suit you." Tre snapped.
"Then explain it to me, because you lost me."
Tre sighed.
"Fine."
He grabbed his beer and dropped into the chair across from Mike.
"Process of elimination. You three sat down together, decided to complicate Tre's life, or fix it, or whatever. Adrienne pulled out that little black book you and Billie put together way back when we were first starting out, of all the groupies whose numbers you got. And you're working your way through them, hoping that I'll just pick one and settle down so I won't be an embarassment anymore."
"Tre."
The bitterness in his bandmate's voice shocked Mike. He stared at his friend.
"It...Tre, it was never like that."
"Bullshit. All I am is a fucking joke, to you and Billie, to the public-"
"Tre, the fans love you."
"Yeah, they think I'm funny. But I see more pictures of you and Billie in one month than I do of myself in an entire year. In case you haven't noticed, it's pretty hard to see me behind those fucking drums."
Mike's mouth dropped open.
"Tre, they love you, those kids. They-"
"They wouldn't notice I would gone until it was time for us to perform."
Mike was silent, looking at his hands.
"Tre...you're so important to this band...to everyone..."
"Bull. I'm the funny drummer, and I'm getting too much publicity. So you guys are just pushing random girls at me."
"If you'd just give them a chance-" Mike began, but Tre just didn't care anymore.
"What? What, Mike? I'd find love? What makes you think I haven't already found it?"
Tre wished he could take back the words before he'd even said them, but Mike saw the truth in his eyes before Tre could do anything.
"It's that model..."
In retrospect, Tre didn't know why he denyed it. But Jorah, she was his. And Tre didn't want anyone else to know about her.
"Oh sure, Mike. Like I'm gonna go after a woman who probably wants you or Billie." Tre snapped, knocking his chair over.
"Tre-"
"Neither of you knows what it's like! You're in the fucking spotlight!" Tre screamed.
Then his voice softened, almost too sad.
"While I might as well be backstage."
He left the house so quickly, he completely forgot his keys. Rather than go back into the house, he just pulled his jacket closer around his body against the snow flurries, and set out walking.
But it was no use. He was awake, hungover, and extremely annoyed to find yet another girl in his bed.
Another of Adrienne's blind dates. Silly, boring and absolutely beautiful. And, to make matters worse, she was smiling at him.
Fuck.
"Good morning." She cooed. Tre sighed.
"Right back atcha." He mumbled with all the enthusiasm he could muster.
She kissed him, then got up and proceeded to gather her clothes from around the room, while Tre lazily tried to remember her name. But it didn't matter that he couldn't, because ten minutes later, she was out the door and he in the shower.
***
Billie, Mike and Adrienne were waiting for him in the kitchen. Tre hesitated for a split-second when he saw them there, sitting at the table with such serious faces you would have imagined they were at a funeral.
Taking all aspects of his situation into consideration, Tre decided his best chance was to act natural.
Mhmm. Because you're so good at that.
"So...who died?" He asked, trying for some laughter.
Dead silence. Not good.
"That's what we're trying to figure out." Billie said cryptically.
"Well, as long as dear Aunt Mabel's written me into the Will, I'll try not to break out sobbing when you tell me." Tre replied, rummaging through the fridge so he wouldn't have to look at them.
He felt, rather than heard, Adrienne's exasperated sigh. Which was, for some reason, accompanied by the scraping of chairs. Tre refused to panic.
But Billie and Adrienne had simply left the kitchen, and Mike sat at the table, staring quietly at Tre. He looked almost sad. Tre felt an incredible urge to hug him, but something inside him hesitated, and the moment was gone.
"You're not even going to call that girl, are you?" Mike asked in a low voice.
Tre shrugged, then shook his head.
"Not likely...I couldn't even remember her name, to be honest."
"Well, why the fuck not?"
"Mike...she was boring. Girls like her are all over the fucking place. All they want is someone famous. And lately, it seems like you lot are pushing them all at me."
"What gives you that idea?"
"Don't play dumb, Mike. It doesn't suit you." Tre snapped.
"Then explain it to me, because you lost me."
Tre sighed.
"Fine."
He grabbed his beer and dropped into the chair across from Mike.
"Process of elimination. You three sat down together, decided to complicate Tre's life, or fix it, or whatever. Adrienne pulled out that little black book you and Billie put together way back when we were first starting out, of all the groupies whose numbers you got. And you're working your way through them, hoping that I'll just pick one and settle down so I won't be an embarassment anymore."
"Tre."
The bitterness in his bandmate's voice shocked Mike. He stared at his friend.
"It...Tre, it was never like that."
"Bullshit. All I am is a fucking joke, to you and Billie, to the public-"
"Tre, the fans love you."
"Yeah, they think I'm funny. But I see more pictures of you and Billie in one month than I do of myself in an entire year. In case you haven't noticed, it's pretty hard to see me behind those fucking drums."
Mike's mouth dropped open.
"Tre, they love you, those kids. They-"
"They wouldn't notice I would gone until it was time for us to perform."
Mike was silent, looking at his hands.
"Tre...you're so important to this band...to everyone..."
"Bull. I'm the funny drummer, and I'm getting too much publicity. So you guys are just pushing random girls at me."
"If you'd just give them a chance-" Mike began, but Tre just didn't care anymore.
"What? What, Mike? I'd find love? What makes you think I haven't already found it?"
Tre wished he could take back the words before he'd even said them, but Mike saw the truth in his eyes before Tre could do anything.
"It's that model..."
In retrospect, Tre didn't know why he denyed it. But Jorah, she was his. And Tre didn't want anyone else to know about her.
"Oh sure, Mike. Like I'm gonna go after a woman who probably wants you or Billie." Tre snapped, knocking his chair over.
"Tre-"
"Neither of you knows what it's like! You're in the fucking spotlight!" Tre screamed.
Then his voice softened, almost too sad.
"While I might as well be backstage."
He left the house so quickly, he completely forgot his keys. Rather than go back into the house, he just pulled his jacket closer around his body against the snow flurries, and set out walking.