The Loser's Girlfriend [A Billie Joe Armstrong Fan Fiction]

Chapter Twenty-Eight: "He Was Drunk; He Didn't Mean It."

If anything, it felt as if there was an ongoing hurricane in my mind.

Ten minutes were too long…so was five…and three. In fact, it felt like a lifetime sitting inside the familiar interior of my car seat, boldly telling me how overdue I was.

Didn’t you realize that maybe the reason why Chelsea wasn’t answering your calls was because of this?! Didn’t you notice how she would avoid everyone during Friday last week?

Didn’t you see that mark just under her ear -- ?

“FUCK!” I yelled in frustration, slamming the brakes then hitting the steering wheel as I placed the car in reverse, going back the street and stopping just in front of Chelsea’s apartment.

I parked the car as fast as I could, before rushing out the door, excusing myself between an old couple having a conversation and, running up the stairs.

I pressed the doorbell twice and waited.

The door was opened by a crack, a silver chain connecting it to the inside of the doorway, just like the second time I visited her.

“Billie?” Chelsea’s voice was hoarse, from lack of use or she’s recovering from some sort of illness, I don’t even know.

My breath hitched in my throat, “Will you let me in?”

I see her swallow nervously before fidgeting and muttering in a small voice, “sure. Hang on.”

And with that, she closed the door. I heard the jingle of the chains before the door re-opened and, I took in the sight of Chelsea, her dishevelled hair and the bags under her eyes.

I hugged her, tight. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered into her hair, “I just found out about it today and, I swear, do you want to press charges?”

She gasped audibly and scrambled away from the hug, “what? No, of course not!”

What? “Are you serious?!” I exclaimed, “He nearly raped you, Chelsea. Why wouldn’t you want to press charges?”

She shook her head, “we don’t need to do that. Everything can be solved without the help of a judge.”

I threw my hands up, “you know what? That’s your problem. You let people use you. You’re too nice, Chelsea, it’s not healthy anymore -- !”

“Well, I let you use me!” she snapped back and, for a moment, I had to think about what she had said, “and look where that got me. I’m happy with you, okay? Maybe the same can go for Gerard,” she added hopefully.

In that moment, I wanted to pull my hair out at her naivety but then fought against it.

“Life is not like that, Chelsea. Look,” I took a step closer to her, “what he did was a crime and that it could go a long way. What if he really meant to hurt you, huh? Haven’t you thought of that?!”

“You don’t know that! How did you know about this, anyway? I don’t think I just blurted it out!” she asked, mostly herself, turning away from me and facing the wall, her expression frustrated.

“Gerard told Lindsey and, Lindsey thought that it was best if she told me,” I mumbled lowly.

She turned back around, “then I’m guessing Gerard didn’t tell her everything that happened. He apologized about what he did, Billie. Apologized.”

My eyes widened, “but that’s still NOT a proper apology. Your family should know about this!”

She shook her head vigorously, “no! Everything’s fine, it’s not as if something bad happened to me!”

“Damn it, Chelsea!” I finally screamed, hitting the wall right in front of me. “When are you going to stop thinking about others just for once, huh?! YOU MAKE THIS LOOK SO FUCKING EASY ON YOU WHEN I KNOW THAT IT’S NOT SO STOP, OKAY?!?!?!”

I immediately regretted screaming at her when she bit her lip and looked down, her eyes getting watery.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” I sighed heavily, walking to her once again. “I’m sorry, Chelsea, I’m so sorry,” I placed a chaste kiss on her lips and lingered for a moment before she pulled away and whispered into my chest.

“He was drunk….he didn’t mean it,” Chelsea’s muffled whisper reached my ears and I had to tell myself to calm down first before taking her by the chin and raising her head to meet my eyes. “You have to understand that…he’s having a hard time right now,” she continued to persuade even when I began to nod.

“Okay,” I finally sighed, breathing heavily before walking her to the direction of the couch.

We both sat on it, just breathing silently until she faced me.

“Are you mad at me?” Chelsea asked me in that small voice she only uses (unconsciously) when she’s scared.

I shook my head, “I can’t stay mad at you…even if I wanted to.”

I smiled at her. She timidly smiled back, which fell as she asked me.

“Are you mad at Gerard?”

I bit my upper lip, staring ahead. “Well…yes…” I answered honestly, finally staring right in her green eyes, “but only because he hurt you.”

She smiled and crawled near me on the couch, snuggling against me. I wrapped one arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer.

“I love you, Billie.”

I replied with a kiss.

Okay! Can you guys tell me what you think because I think I'm bad at writing these kinds of parts (as in, parts with extreme feelings, fast-paced shizz, things like that). So, I guess a bit of con com is fine. (Hell, it's always been fine for me) =))

Once again, Happy Valentine's Day!

xo,

T.