Please Don't Make Me Beg

I lifted my hand to touch his cheek gently. "Billie, please talk to me. I know we just met, but I promise you, I really do care. I've listened to your music so much that you feel like an old friend to me, and I wish so much I could take away your pain. If it helps, I'll listen."

He sighed, eyes closed, and in that moment he seemed so tired and defeated that I almost didn't recognize him. "Li, my marriage is falling apart, and I have no idea how to hold it together. I love my wife, but there's no trust, no spark anymore. We go through so much shit with me on the road all the time, and she has to raise the boys almost by herself. And then... then I...I'm..."

"It's okay. Take your time."

"Adie wants me to quit the band after the tour ends," he said, his eyes growing wide as if he couldn't believe what he was saying. "Li, she's my wife, and the mother of my children, and I would die for her. But Green Day is who I am, it's what I live for. I'm nothing if I'm not a musician. I can give her everything else she asks, but I can't give her that."

"There must be some way to find a middle ground, some compromise you can reach that will make you both happy. She loves you, Billie, and she wouldn't ask this if it wasn't really important to her. But you can't give up the passion you've worked for all your life."

His hand was trembling as he raised the glass to his lips and emptied the last drops. Without speaking, he rose to pour another, taking mine with him.

"That's the conversation we've always had in the past. I'd agree to take time off after a tour, and we'd spend lots of time with the kids--you know, just knock around the house, goof off, play in the yard. It was great...for a while." He sat down after handing me a freshly filled glass.

"Then what?" I asked, knowing what he was going to say.

"Well, after a while, the songs would start rattling around in my head, and I'd end up heading down to the studio, just to try to get them down before they got away. Mike and Tre would help me smooth the rough edges out, and turn them into real Green Day tunes. I was really, genuinely happy."

"Were you as happy when you were at home?" I asked gently, knowing this was the most dangerous question of all.

He didn't answer for a long moment, and was lost in thought, staring out the window into the darkness. Finally, he whispered, "Happy? God, yes, I was happier than I deserved to be. I married the most beautiful woman in the world--no disrespect intended," he nodded toward me.

"None taken," I smiled.

"She gave me two beautiful, healthy, wonderful sons. I have more than I ever imagined, more than I could ever deserve. How could I ever be worthy of all that, a fuckup like me?" His fist thumped his chest almost angrily. "I'm a useless son of a bitch!"

"Billie, why would you say that?" I asked him, shocked. "I know you had big shoes to fill--it isn't hard to see how much you loved your own father. But how can you ignore all the things you are, all you've accomplished?" I realized I was gripping his arm rather tightly, and let go, my hand dropping to my lap. "I'm sorry," I mumbled. "It's just hard to understand how you could feel so little pride in yourself, when you've got so much to be proud of."

"Like what? Staying high half the time Joey was a baby? Drinking on nights when I should have been home taking care of my wife? Traveling halfway around the world for a year while my son wonders why everyone else's dad can come to their ball games, but not his? If I'm supposed to be so proud of myself, then why did my wife tell me tonight that my family--my own sons--would be better off if I never came home?"

My God, that's what she was saying to him after the show. I was stunned, hearing his pain, hearing Adie's anger, witnessing something so private and personal.

"Oh, Billie. I'm...I'm so sorry. I can't imagine how much that must hurt. She couldn't have meant it, not really." I sank to my knees on the floor in front of him, looking up into his tear-stained face.

"You saw us after the show, didn't you?" he asked, his voice ragged in his throat. "That's what you were telling me at the meet and greet."

I nodded slowly. "I'm sorry I intruded. I didn't mean--your privacy--you..."

His face had leaned closer to mine, and now I could feel his warm breath, spicy with the dark scent of wine, on my cheek. I didn't want to look up; he was going to yell at me, and I deserved it. I had no right to pry into his business. Who did I think I was for being so bold?

Everything had taken on a soft, fuzzy focus, and my elbows and knees were relaxed and sort of buzzy. It didn't seem quite real, that I was sitting a foot away from Billie Joe Armstrong, but the thought of it seemed nice, a happy little thought. I closed my eyes to enjoy the idea, forgetting for just a moment that any of this was real and that he was about to chew me out.

Like a half-dream, I felt warm softness on my mouth and opened my eyes to stare, transfixed, into an ocean of emerald. I gasped my surprise, but couldn't pull away. A hand gently brushed the side of my face, fingers tangling in my hair behind my ear. His eyelids slowly fell, and mine followed along willingly. I could feel his hand lift my face toward his, felt his kiss deepen gently. His body slid from the couch and he sat beside me on the deep rug, his other hand behind my back, gently, so gently.

I thought of Andi. My beautiful daughter, whose respect was the most amazing power in my life, and who had shown more strength and integrity in her sixteen years than I had ever had. What would she say if she knew where I was, what I was doing? No matter what else this man was, he was married.

I laid my hand on his rock-hard shoulder, and pushed him back a little, breaking the kiss. "I can't do this, Billie. We've both been drinking, or that would never have happened."

"Maybe it would. Maybe she's right, and I'm not any good to them. You don't know what I've put them through, Li. I can't expect them to forgive me for all the things I've screwed up. All I can do is try to keep from dragging Joey and Jakob down with me, and let Adie raise them right. I can be, like their uncle or something." His words had thickened, and his lids drooped slightly.

"You don't mean that, either, Billie. You and Adie have to work this out, and right now you're just angry."

"Hell yes, I'm angry. I've tried so hard to be a good husband, a good father. I gave up drugs, settled down, even tried not to curse in front of the boys. I've ignored groupies that just loved to wave their tits in my face, then called me a faggot when I didn't reach out and grab them. I don't want to feel like a failure anymore, Li. I want to feel like a man, like the kind of man who is enough for someone!!"

I heard my voice before I knew I was speaking. "If I were Adie, you'd be enough for me. Enough for a lifetime..."

His arms were around me again, and this time the kiss was not so gentle, and it was my turn to sigh against his velvet-soft lips.

The taste of the wine on his tongue filled my mouth, and its sweetness intoxicated me even more. The heat from his hands, the hands that could coax lightning from his guitar, was like liquid fire on my back, and I could feel the hard muscles in his arms against my sides. His fingertips lifted the hem of my shirt, and trailed up my back...I was helpless to stop the soft cry that escaped my lips, and my head fell backward against the sofa cushion.

"Billie, please, I can't fight this, you have no idea..." I gasped.

"Please don't fight it, please don't push me away. I'm so tired of being pushed away. Let me show you I can teach you to fly," he whispered against my ear. "All you have to do is trust me."

My fingers held tight to his tousled black spikes as his mouth found the racing pulse in my throat. His lips brushed my skin, and then fastened hungrily just under my ear. His tongue caressed the tender spot until my other hand clutched at his shoulder in desperation.

"I can't--"

"You can. Do you trust me?"

My mind was filling with fog, and I could hear the blood roaring in my ears. "Yes...Jesus, yes..."

His voice rumbled, low and gutteral. "There is no one else in the world right now except you and me. No other time, but now. Nothing else exists. All that's left is the touch of my hands, and the sound of my voice."

He bent over me, and I realized his strong arms were lowering me to the rug. I looked up into his eyes, unable to comprehend what was happening, and the last conscious thought in my mind drifted away like smoke. It was true, everything else was gone, vanished into nothingness.

His face was...beautiful. I drank him in with my eyes, and stroked the curve of his full lower lip with my finger. The corners of his mouth lifted in a smile, and I felt mine respond. This was bliss, joy, heaven, all the hopes of my heart come true. I felt the wildness of my youth warming my blood, quickening my breath, and I slid my hands down his magnificent chest. Impatient, I lifted the well-worn green tee shirt over his head and pulled his body down onto mine, loving the press of his weight on top of me.

"Do you want me to stop, Li? Because if you don't want this, I will."

His eyes stared into mine, demanding an answer, and I was drowning in the ocean of green.

My arms wrapped around his body and rolled him onto his back, and I caught his wrists and held them against the rug. His mouth was open in surprise as he lifted his head, unsure what had just happened.

"Billie, if you stop, I'm not sure what I might do!!" I growled. I lowered my body against him until his arms were stretched full length over his head, and my chest was an inch above his. I watched his dark-rimmed eyes travel down my face, my neck, and then pause. I didn't move, and as he raised his gaze again to my face, I turned the question back to him.
"Do you want me to stop, Billie? Because I will, if that's what you want."

Hesitation flickered like a shadow over his face, and I could tell he was used to being in control. Of course, with his strength and charisma, he still was, but....

"No, I--I don't want you to stop."

"And do you trust me?" I asked him, my eyes half-closed.

"Not at all," he grinned.

I released my grip on his wrists, and lightly dragged my nails up the insides of his arms to his shoulders. I bent my head toward his chest, and let the ends of my hair trail across his bare skin. His eyes closed as he groaned with pleasure, and his back arched toward me, allowing me to touch soft, wet kisses down his belly. When I reached the dark hairs just above his belt buckle, I paused and sat up to look into his face again. His beautiful eyes were huge, and there was an expression of wonder on his face. I smiled at him curiously, questioningly.

"What is it, Billie?" I whispered.

"It's been so long," he breathed, "so long since I've been touched like that, with that kind of passion. I'd forgotten what it was like."

"Then let me help you remember," I murmured, undoing his belt and jeans, peeling away the layers of clothing as I buried my face into his neck. His earlobe was velvet against my tongue, the scent of his hair made me dizzy.

I felt his hands at the neck of my shirt, and then a sharp tug as he ripped it down the front. I shook the useless fabric aside, and with one hand, he reached behind me to unhook the black lace bra I wore. As it fell away, he pulled me down to him, and rolled me back onto the soft rug. Clothing was discarded thoughtlessly, wordlessly, and soon even the room around us faded as he took me in his arms and taught me to fly.