Pure Massacre // Billie Joe

(2)

Billie Joe

This was my life. This was my shitty, boring life.

42 years old and already done with everything and everyone. I work at a shitty, boring music store only to come home to my shitty, boring family. Two sons who don't say more than a word to me, and a wife who doesn't even try any more.

In fact, if I hadn't married this wife of mine, I could have had it all. I could be playing music, touring the world, doing what I love most. But no. I was forced to make a decision, and of course my fucking obnoxious 22 year old self felt "love was everything"

Love is bullshit. Nothing but a big steaming pile of bullshit.

I crave adventure. I crave the feeling of being wanted. But most of all, as ironic as it is, I crave love.

I drop my magazine in fright as the front door of the shop opens. The damn wind probably blew it open again. I groan, as I reach down to pick it up and chuck it carelessly on the table next to me. I fumble with my belt and fly, as I do it up. As you could tell, I had a lot of free time in here.

I crack my neck, standing from the chair and let out a yawn. Who knows what time it was? The storm brewing outside gave nothing away. My converse scuff the dirty floor as I walk out the doorway into the main part of the store.

My eyes squint in the dim light, seeing the door is in fact shut, and not open. I slowly make my way towards it, silence in my steps.

A small movement makes my head snap to the side, my eyes widening at the sight.

A girl.

Was I dreaming?

My lips part in awe as I stare at her. It wasn't difficult to say she was beautiful. Her long hair was thrown into a messy ponytail, curiosity evident in her grey eyes as they traced over the shelves. She simply wore ripped denim jeans, dirty converse and a huge black hoodie, shielding her small body from the cold.

I start to follow behind her, being careful in my movement. She slowly traces a pale hand along the musty records, her steps slowing down as she walks further down the aisle.

I swallow hard. I shouldn't be thinking about her in this way. She was probably younger than 18.

But I couldn't help it. I knew I wouldn't be able to forget the feelings she was now bringing me. She finally reaches the back of the store, her eyes searching for assistance. I perk up, realizing this was my queue to say something.

"Can I help you?" I say, causing her to jump in fright. Her eyes start to look me up and down, almost taking me in.

"Who are you?" She breathes, her grey eyes staring into mine.

"Billie Joe" I smirk. She was adorable when she was scared. "I own the place" I lick my dry lips.

The girl swallows, slowly lifting up the black acoustic guitar case she was holding.

"C- Can you f- fix my guitar?" She stutters, her lips trembling.

"I can do a lot of things" I step forward, my mouth and penis taking action before my brain can function. I was awfully close to her, and she was scared shitless. But...

I liked it.

I reach up, gently taking a hold of her chin. I was surprised she didn't flinch, or scream out for help. This dominance was over powering me. It was like a drug. It fully took over my body.

"And I'll do it all for you" My voice comes out in almost a whisper. The girl doesn't struggle, or pull away. She simply stares at me, quivering from fright. She slightly opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. She's completely frozen.

"W- What do you want?" She croaks. I smile, letting go of her chin.

"What's your name, love?" I say, ignoring her question.

"Faith" She quietly says.

"Faith..." I repeat to myself. "That's a beautiful name"

Faith looks down, her cheeks flushing red. I chuckle at her embarrassment. She was so cute.

"So your guitar..." I look down also, seeing the tight grip she has on the handle. Her hand was still shaking, as her knuckles turn white. "You want me to fix it?" I tilt my head to the side.

She quickly nods, slowly lifting up the case. I gently take it out of her hands, purposely making us touch skin with a smirk on my face. I walk over to the counter, placing the case on it and flicking open the hatch.

"Holy shit" I murmur, looking down at the wreck. "What happened?" I turn around to face Faith. She's staring at the ground, shyly avoiding my gaze.

"It was smashed" She quietly says.

"By who?" I press on. This didn't look like an accident. Faith goes silent, not answering my question. I take a step forward. "Who did it?" I ask again. She raises her head, her grey eyes trying not to cry.

"M- My step father" She finally says, on the verge of breaking into tears. I look at her with sympathy. How awful for her.

"What an ass" I say, shaking my head. Faith flashes a small smile, before it being replaced with her usual sad frown.

"How much?" She asks, looking up at me with her innocent eyes. I lick my lips, clearing my throat. These feelings were getting ridiculous, I had to control them.

"Listen, don't worry about the money now" I put up my hand. "I'll fix it as best as I can, and I'll think of how you can repay me later" I smirk at her.

Faith nods her head, fumbling with her hands. She whispers a thank you, before turning on her heel and begins to walk out of the store. I open my mouth to say something. Anything.

Ask her for her number!

No, that's creepy.

I simply shut my mouth, watching the door creak shut.

And I'm back to that all too familiar silence.

A/N Random update because I felt like it.

I'm getting really good ideas for this story :))))

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BTW, new photos from Green Days house of Blues show, kill me now. I am not handling.