You're My Nicotine

"Headaches? Come on, October, I know that's not a headache tablet."

October had given Frank a lame excuse as to why she was taking the white pills, and he knew it. He had seen all sorts of pills that the Way brothers used to have an addiction to, and the pill he held at that moment was one of them.

"Okay, it's for cramp." Another lie slipped through her teeth and she hated it.

"Cramp?" Frank repeated, obviously not believing a word of it. "So how can you have so many pills just for cramp?"

October panicked as he headed towards the cabinate. "No, wait!" she cried, standing from the bed and attempting to stop him.

It clearly hadn't work when Frank pulled open the mirror, revealing all the pills she hid away from the world. She quickly slammed it shut and spun round to him.

"Please don't tell anyone," she barely whispered, pleading with her bright green eyes.

Frank bit his ringed lip slightly, completely taken over by his emotions, feelings he felt that he had to help her, protect her.

"It's just to help me get through the day," she continued quietly.

"Help you with what?" Frank asked. "Why so many pills?"

"They're for different things in a normal daily routine," October replied, "There's a pill to send me to sleep, to wake me up, to make me feel comfortable, confident... alive."

"Why do you need pills for that? You can do all that without them-"

"I can't," she cut in and looked down at the Doctor Martens on her feet, "I can't do life without them."

Frank shook his head a little, "Why, October? You're only seventeen, your life hasn't even started yet, you can have everything you want-"

October stopped him there, "I can't have EVERYTHING I want, you don't know anything, Frank."

He looked back at the stern glare she gave him, worried he'd upset her.

"What do you mean?" he asked softly.

October sighed as she dropped back down on the edge of her bed. She ran a hand back through her soft hair and lowered her head to her lap. Frank folded his arms over his chest, giving her time to get things off her own chest and eagerly awaiting to hear what was bothering her.

After what seemed like hours, she finally broke the suspensed-filled silence.

"Do you remember Aidan, my best friend?"

"Tall boy, dark hair? Yeah, I remember he played soccer with the band one time, nice kid," he nodded.

"He's dead..."

Frank's eyebrows raised in surprise. He didn't see that coming. All he managed to get out was, "When?"

"It was his one year anniversary three months ago," she said and added, "So the pills have been doubled recently... I'm not proud of it but it's the only thing that helps."

Frank looked down at the younger girl sympathetically. "I'm sorry," he told her, and when she said nothing, asked, "What happened?"

"His family live over here in LA and he brought me with him to visit them for a week... He got into a fight with some guys, it got out of hand," October explained sadly, "We tried running from them but... but they caught up and... well, beat him to death..." Her voice cracked a little and Frank knew this got to her hard.

"Aidan was everything to me, everything," she continued, "He was the only person I could go to when I needed to talk, when I needed to get away. Since we moved I've only found a couple real friends, since everyone at school only want me for one thing... my dad." She hadn't spoken this much about her best friend since he died, and now the words were pouring out. Her eyes were anywhere but on Frank. "He was the only person I could truly trust and always had been since we were three years old... and he was taken away from me."

Frank crouched down on the floor in front of October, balancing himself with the tips of his fingers on the carpet. "You can move on without pills, sweetie," he told her gently as she finally looked into his eyes, melting into the sympathy-filled hazel.

"When he died, I just didn't think I could function without him... That's when I discovered pills. They replaced Aidan. They do everything that he used to do for me."

Frank placed a hand on her knee and watched as her eyes began to water. He said, "They won't make anything better, October, trust me."

"How would you know?" she asked a little harshly.

"The last time you saw Gee those four years ago, do you remember he was out of it the entire time, not himself and just depressed?"

"Yeah, but I thought he was an alcoholic?"

"It wasn't just alcohol," Frank explained, "It was pills, too. He thought they would make everything better."

October bit her lip slightly and her eyes fell back to her lap.

"Mikey has also been through some shit," he added. "The brothers finally had the strength to get help, to quit the drugs and booze, and they've never been happier. I was there through it all, believe me, I understand how hard it is."

Frank heard the teenager sniffle and saw her wipe away a single tear that had rolled down her cheek delicately.

"Hey," he whispered, his brow creased in empathy.

"I'm sorry," October whispered back, wiping away another tear, "It's just so unfair."

Wiping them away didn't help, she realised, as more fell down her face, and she couldn't seem to stop them. Before she knew it, she was in Frank's lean, tattooed arms, sobbing quietly on his shoulder as he cooed to her softly.

"I've ruined my fucking make up," October sniffled, trying desperately to wipe the eyeliner streaks from her face.

Frank grabbed the tissue box from the nightstand and handed them to her as she thanked him.

"Now back to the happy daughter," she smirked, dabbing away underneath her eyes. "My parents haven't exactly made this any easier, what with their constant arguing."

"They've been having some problems, huh?" Frank asked.

"Yeah, but it's all sorted now... well they say it is."

"Have you talked to them about all this, about how you're feeling?"

She shook her head quickly. "I don't want them to know, I can't deal with that," she replied and then suddenly looked at him, "You won't tell them, will you?"

"As long as you promise to get off the pills," he reasoned, "It'll take time, but you can do it, I know you can."

"Why do you care, Frank?"

"Because, October, you have your whole life ahead of you and I can't see someone like you throw it away... You're way too good for that. Besides, you're Billie Joe Armstrong's daughter and I know how much you mean to him. I mean, he talks about you a lot."

She looked at him again, "He does?"

"Yeah, when we were on tour together or we're at parties or other things, he always brings you up in conversation, and your brother," Frank smiled, "Telling us how much he misses you and how he regrets being away from home so much, how he wants the best for you..."

October smiled weakly and then sighed, "I can't do it on my own though, it'll be too hard, but I'm not getting help from a doctor either..."

"I'll be here," Frank told her, "Pass me your cell phone."

Confused, October did as she was told and pulled out her phone from her pants pocket, giving it to him.

"I'm gonna give you my cell," he said, punching in the numbers, "If you need to talk or you want to meet up or something, you give me a call or a text, I'm gonna help you through this."

Retrieving her phone again, October said, "I can't ask you to do that for me."

"You didn't, I'm telling you," he said, "Don't be shy, I don't bite." He smirked and October smiled at him appreciatively as he stood back up, "I'm gonna head back outside before people start to wonder if I've flushed myself down the toilet."

October laughed lightly and said, "I'll be down soon, got to fix make up."

"Alright," he smiled and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

October stood from the bed and headed into the bathroom to freshen up. It was such a hassle but make up was going to be the extra confidence that she needed to make it through the rest of the day.

So did the white pill.

Popping one onto her tongue, October washed it down with a mouthful of water, before heading back downstairs. She stepped back out into the February sunshine and Billie Joe instantly came over.

"You okay, sweetheart?" he asked, putting an arm around his daughter's shoulders.

"Yeah, yeah," she replied, "Having a good birthday?"

"Oh, you know, it's just the usual letting me know I'm not getting any younger," Billie said.

October smirked at her father as he gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze and gulped down some beer. Her eyes landed on Frank's, over the other side of the back yard and he flashed her an encouraging smile. She smiled in return, before making her way over to the table and finding something to snack on.

Later that night, when the party was all finished and everyone had left, October sat in her bed in the dimly lit bedroom, underneath the sheets, looking down at her cell phone. She was contemplating on whether to send the text she had just finished typing out, or not.

Would it make a difference? Would it mean anything? Would she actually get the help she needed?

Unlocking the front door to the apartment he would be living in for the next six months or so, Frank heard his cell phone give out a beep, telling him he had a new text message. He made his way down the hall to the kitchen, where he dropped his keys and wallet on the table and picked up the small pile of mail he still hadn't gone through that day. Sifting through it tiredly, he gave out a small yawn and dropped it back to the table, deciding he would do it tomorrow. He slipped off his jacket and grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator, before heading to his bedroom.

Opposite the door was a dark wood bed with its black and white striped comforter, on the wall above it hung a framed Black Flag poster signed by the band that he had brought with him on the flight to Los Angeles. On either side of the bed was a nightstand in the same dark wood, each with a little lamp, and the one on Frank's sleeping side had a collection of bits and pieces. The walls were red, there was a tidy dresser and bookcase with stacks of comics, books, DVDs and CDs.

After two weeks, Frank had already made it look asthough Frank was staying there.

Before getting undressed to get into bed, he removed his cell from his pants pocket and read the new text. He smiled to himself and knew he was doing the right thing.

'Thank you. October.'