Boulevard of Broken Dreams

City of Dreams

I told Billie everything. As much as I could remember, that is. It seemed to stick really well in my head due to the fact I've retold it on several occasions. I swear if I have to spew it out one more time, someone better be besides me recording it so we can make it into an audio book. Save me some time and make me some money.

Billie was rather patient with the story of a lifetime. He knew of everything up until after that little walk behind my elementary school, so everything since then had to be explained to explicit detail. Thankfully this stuff didn't happen too long ago. It was easy to recall each dream, each hallucination...each pill. He waited until the very end before speaking, making sure to not interrupt a single event.

"And that led us up to meeting once again here in Boston," I finalized. "Never thought this shit city would be the city of dreams."

Billie's eyes were intently glued on mine, as if staring into them would help him to digest everything he just heard. After a few seconds to recoil, he sighed in relief and took a sip of coffee.

"Wow..." he was finally able to mumble.

"How's that for next blockbuster film?" I sneered. Personally I thought it was rather amusing. It was all in the past now, wasn't it? It was only a few giggles later until realizing Billie was rather in shock. His face was grim and neutralized to the story. His gaze was no longer on me, but on what was left of his burrito.

"Billie?" I pry. He seems lost in focus. "Billie, that burrito isn't going to materialize into the answer you're looking for. If you have any questions or comments, ask me. Before the lecture is over," I winked playfully.

"Is this some type of joke to you?" Billie finally responded dryly, still keeping his sight on his plate.

My happiness blew over into a sea of nerves.

"What's wrong?"

His head sunk lower to eye his shoes, keeping him very distant from our attempt at a conversation. I never thought he was going to react like this. This guy was a jokester! He was a goofy rock star that probably couldn't match his socks if his life depended on it. I get that he may have been disturbed by the events of my narration, but they're over now. I wish he would crack a smile.

"The answer does not lie within your shoes, young Skywalker," I tease him, praying for a grin.

He didn't even budge. Maybe I didn't know as much about this guy as I thought, but I swear he would crack a bit at a classic Star Wars reference.

"Please, look at me. There's no need to be sulking."

Slowly but surely Billie raised his head to see me eye to eye, and what I saw had shocked me.

"B-Bi-Billie?" I stutter. His eyes were welled with tears that he was trying so hard to deny.

"I'm sorry, Layla," he whimpered so softly. "This is all my fault."

"What are you talking about?!" I refute. "None of this is your fault. This is just how it was supposed to be! Billie, listen to me for a second."

"I'm not worth your time. I've ruined you on so many levels. I should go..." he backed out of his seat to leave.

"Wait a second!" I jumped at the opportunity and ran towards the door to block it. "Listen to me, Billie Joe Armstrong. I know what dream you saw of mine last night!" I revealed.