Please Don't Make Me Beg

He almost didn't look like the same person I had been with last night. The sweetness was gone from his face, and in its place was something...darker, almost pure lust. It scared me a little--where was this coming from so suddenly?

What had I been thinking, to put myself in such a vulnerable position with someone I didn't really know at all?

My voice was trembling, and so were my hands. I pushed his shoulders back to look into his face, but I wasn't sure if he was seeing me.

"Billie, please, I'm sorry I asked you to kiss me--I wasn't trying to make you think I was coming on to you," I pleaded.

"Then why did you tell me about that dream? Why did you tell me all about how you'd missed sleeping with your husband? You can't throw signals at me like that and then just expect me to turn it off when you change your mind!" The roughness in his voice was, strangely, both sexy and chilling. "You're not a teenager, Li. Don't play games with me."

I was still pressed against the car by his body, my toes barely touching the ground. "This isn't a game, and you know it! Just let me go, and go back to your wife and family! At least you have someone to go home to!"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? Have you heard anything I've been telling you since last night? I live in a house with my wife, and that's fucking ALL I do! How do you think that feels? I'd give anything to think she missed me and wanted me the way you miss Sam!"

Hearing the name on his lips was like an obscenity when I saw the look in his eyes. "Don't you dare use him to try to manipulate me, you bastard," I hissed at him. "Don't you even mention his name. He would never have put his hands on me this way."

"Maybe he should have. You and I aren't so different, Li. I understand you better than you think I do, and there's a part of you that wants this so bad you can hardly breathe. Tell me you don't." His voice was thick with seduction.

My hand left a vivid red tattoo on his cheek, and he looked shocked for a second. Taking advantage of his surprise, I shoved against his chest as hard as I could, and he staggered backward but didn't fall. What I didn't expect was the slow curl of his lip into a smug and arrogant grin.

"I was right--you DO like it rough, don't you?" he smirked, rubbing his stinging face.

Furious, I shoved my hand into my pocket to grab my keys. I thumbed the unlock button and heard the doors click open just as his hand closed tightly around my wrist. The keys fell to the ground and I turned on him, shaking with anger, beating my free fist against his chest.

"Get your fucking hands off me, you arrogant son of a bitch! I don't know who you think you are, but I'm not some star-struck bimbo who's going to fall at your feet just because you're Billie Joe Armstrong!"

"Don't you think I know that?" he shouted. "If you were, I could have done a lot more than kiss you last night. Maybe that's what I should have done!"

"Because I was passed out?" I asked, incredulous. I couldn't believe this was the same man I had spent hours talking to last night. "Surely that was reason enough not to!" My fingers behind my back were fumbling for the door handle.

"It would have been so much easier," he grinned dangerously, "but not nearly so much fun!"

I yanked the door open and dropped behind the wheel as quickly as I could, still trembling. As I started the engine, he held the door open and reached toward me again. This time his hand passed in front of me and deftly snatched the keys from the ignition. He quickly stuffed them into his pocket and squatted down beside me.

"Okay, fine then. Are you going to walk home now?" I stared at him, waiting to see what he was going to do, but he sat motionless on his haunches, gazing up at me. He seemed calmer now, but there was still a look in his eyes that I didn't trust.

"Give me my keys." My voice was as cold as I could make it.

"I'm going to ask you one question, and I want you to tell me the truth," he said.

"Why should I tell you anything?" I demanded.

He brushed the question aside. "Are you lonely?" he asked simply, his eyes piercing my soul.

It was the last thing I would have expected him to say at that moment, and it took me completely by surprise. My anger slowly drained away, leaving me weak and breathless. I was tired, so tired--of being alone, of trying to be strong for Andi, of everything, it seemed. But to admit it to him, to have it forced out of me this way... I turned my head, refusing to look at him.

"Answer me," he said, and then more softly, "please."

"I'm so lonely it kills me," I whispered, my eyes squeezed tightly shut.

"You don't have to be," he said, and his voice was low, commanding. "I'm here right now, and there's nothing but your own fear holding you back. Quit trying to be mom of the year, Li. Let go and be who you are. You won't win any prizes for denying yourself what you really want."

The tears stinging my eyes weren't from sadness; they were tears of rage and frustration. Billie's hands gripped my arms, and he stood, pulling me up with him. He held his arms out to the sides, inviting me to hug or hit him, I wasn't sure.

"All this has been building up in you since Sam died. Let it out, Li. I'm strong enough to take anything you've got locked up inside you. I know there's passion there--you just haven't used it for too long."

Was he mocking me? I had no idea, and confusion was spinning me in circles.

"C'mon," he urged, and crooked his fingers toward me.

I flung myself at him, fists flailing wildly, pouring out all the blinding rage I felt at being left alone to live an old person's life when I still felt young and alive. It shocked me to feel the adrenaline rushing through my veins, to completely unleash every ounce of fury and despair I'd been fighting for so long. And it surprised me even more that he stood firm, deflecting every slap, dodging the kicks that would probably have broken his kneecaps.

"That's right, I can handle it--let it go, you crazy bitch!" he shouted, and I could barely hear him over the blood rushing in my ears.

He never tried to stop me, never held me back, until I dropped, exhausted, to my knees on the pavement. Even then, betrayed by a body that couldn't keep pace with the hurricane of grief and anger that poured out of me, I screamed at him, a torrent of despair and obscenities bleeding from my soul.

"How the fucking hell could you leave me?" I wailed, and for the moment, Billie had ceased to exist. It was Sam standing there in front of me, still serene, still smiling, and as far away as the moon. "Wasn't I enough to keep you here? I've spent every night since you died wishing it was me, wishing I could take your place, and then I have to wake up the next morning and realize you're gone all over again. I lose you every goddamned day! How can I keep going without my heart? You took my best friend away from me, you heartless bastard...."

I buried my face in my arms and howled my anguish like a child. It spewed from my lips like venom, horrifying and soothing me at the same time. "It feels like my life ended when yours did. I go to sleep alone, I wake up alone, and no matter what happens, good or bad, you're not there to share it with. How long am I supposed to live like this, Sam? When are you going to let go of me?" I was whimpering now, pleading with a ghost.

I lifted my face, bathed in hot tears and in the golden glow spilling over the horizon. Billie stood over me, still and quiet, his eyes soft with compassion. I could already see the bruises beginning to rise on his arms, and there were scratches on his hands and neck.

He knelt slowly, then sat cross-legged beside me. Once again, his arms opened wide, and his eyebrows lifted as he tilted his head to the side.

I was shaking like a leaf in a storm. It took me a second to focus on where I was, and who was beside me.

"Come here," he said, nodding at me. It wasn't a challenge, as it had been only a moment ago..

My head sank onto his lap, and I wrapped my arms around his leg, still sobbing. His hands stroked my hair, and I could feel him bent over me, murmuring softly in my ear.

"It's not Sam who has to let go, Li. It's you. You know that, don't you?" he asked. He was pulling me back to him, his smooth voice crooning to me.

All the words were gone. I nodded, sniffling, against his knee.

"You don't have to bury yourself with him. He wouldn't want you to lock yourself away and give up on love. If you do, the woman he loved might as well be dead, too."

The sound of the truck horn behind the stadium made me bolt upright. Billie's face didn't change; if anything, he was oblivious to the sound. My stomach sank at the storm I'd unleashed on him, and yet here he sat, watching me with concern etching the lines of his face as though I were his oldest and dearest friend.

"They're leaving, Billie. I'll take you back to the bus lot." I was staring into his face, trying to drink in every detail of his face, trying to remember everything about this unforgettable night.

"Not until I know you're okay," he said simply. He didn't move to stand up. "They probably won't leave without me."

I laughed with him, weakly. "I will be now, I think. It kind of feels like I...threw up or something. Kind of cathartic."

"You'd been holding back a long time. Promise me you won't do that anymore. Don't be afraid of being pissed off, or sad, or silly, or sexy. What the fuck do you care what people think? I never have!" His expression was priceless, the adorable rascal I'd always admired so much. "You're gonna be okay, Li. I promise."

"Do you have any idea how much a part of my life you've been, before I ever met you?" I asked him. "At the times when I was as down as I thought I could get, somehow your music could get me back on my feet and fighting again. I'd think about you and the songs you've written that seemed to speak right to me, and I'd wonder what you'd do in the same situation."

"Dropping trou has always worked well for me!" he giggled, and so did I, for a moment. Then the embarrassment caught up with me.

"I'm so sorry I hit you, Billie. Why did you let me do that?" I could feel my face burning with shame.

"Aren't you going to ask me why I was such an asshole just before that?"

"Well, it did cross my mind..." I hesitated.

"Look, I guess a part of me knew you needed to just get good and mad so you'd let all that crap out. You've bottled it up for so long you forgot how to get mad, so making an ass of myself seemed like a safe way to get that temper going." He rose and brushed the dirt from his jeans.

"You were right, and I appreciate it. I'm just sorry I hurt you." I hung my head, feeling awkward. "Especially when you were trying to be my friend."

"Well, before you go feeling guilty, I said a part of me felt that way. The other part of me was frustrated as hell that you were getting ready to walk out of my life after one crazy night, and I got selfish. I didn't want it to end without finding out what it would be like. I really am an asshole, you know," he chuckled.

"No, you're not. You're the most talented, amazing man I've ever met, and I can't believe how lucky I am that I got to know you last night. If things were different..."

"If things were different, Li, I wouldn't be leaving. But they are, and I guess I owe that to you. And I'm grateful to you for showing me what I have."

"I really wish you didn't have to go," I smiled. "I do wish you the best, though. You and Adie."

"I won't forget you, Li. If this were another time, you and I just might have something interesting here."

"Aw, you're just saying that so I'll come to your show again next time."

"You think so?" he asked. He bent his head, and pulled me close for one last kiss sweeter than I had felt in a long time. When he pulled away, he flashed his famous, slightly crooked smile.

"I guess this is goodbye, then," I said reluctantly.

"Don't be so sure," he whispered. "Maybe we'll see each other again someday."

I watched him sprint across the parking lot, his black high tops slapping against the pavement, until he disappeared around the corner of the building. Sinking back into the car seat, I tried to make sense of everything that had happened, but I knew I never would. I just knew I wanted to get home to my daughter more than anything in the world, to tell her how precious and wonderful she was. It was just her and me, but that was enough.

I just hoped she'd feel the same way. But something inside me wasn't too sure.