Welcome to Paradise // Billie Joe Armstrong // #Wattys2017

As My Memory Rests

'That's as far as my memory goes'

I'm still in my bed, placed up straight against the headboard. I've kinda zoned out and my eyes are staring blankly at the carpet as I go through everything Billie has told me in the past few minutes. As excited as I am for him, I can't help but to feel slightly disappointed. My childish fantasy-land ideas had thought Billie would stay here forever, keeping me company and filling up the hole inside me that was so desperate to be sewn shut.

I can sometimes really disgust myself.

Billie has to leave. He has to find his wife and he's not here to fix my loneliness. He's here because god knows why, but it sure isn't for me. I should be grateful to even have met him, but one lick of that oh so sweet piece of candy made me crave it only more. Figuratively speaking, of course.

'But I'm guessing Adrienne and I went to Mike's place after that. Tre was going to be spending the night there as well because his wife doesn't like him coming home all drunk and stuff.' Billie continues, interrupting my deep, self-destructive thoughts. I tilt my head up to face him. He looks a little quizzical and he's biting his bottom lip softly as if all the answers of the whereabouts of his wife come flowing out once he manages to bite through the pink flesh. Though, the whole picture of Billie sitting opposite to me on the bed, his legs crossed and arms folded in his lap looks so innocent. I mimic his action by biting my lip as well. Not to summon answers, but to suppress a fangirling giggle. He looks so damned adorable.

'Are you still there?' Billie asks, waving his hand in front of my vision. 'Sorry, I was thinking' I apologize, clasping my hands together underneath the blanket I'm laying under. I know I need to reply to Billie but the only answer suitable is the question what is going to happen next. And that question is simply redundant, because I know very well what is going to happen next.

Billie is going to leave.

I also know there is nothing I can do to stop it, but I at least want to extend our parting a little longer before I'm being sucked back into the daily loneliness I've found myself in. It'll be like Billie was never here.

Maybe because he never was.

I violently shake the thoughts out of my mind. Billie is most definitely here, because I sure as hell haven't spend a lifetime wrapping bandage around thin air. And I definitely didn't hug a pile of dust either.

'What were you thinking about?'

Well, I was thinking about how I am really glad that you're here and that I have no idea how I'm going to continue this daily routine in this messed-up world we're in without you. I was thinking about how I could stretch the time you spend here and how I absolutely don't want you to leave. I was also thinking about how adorable you look, just sitting there caring about your wife and about how badly I want to kiss you.

But, it would be weird to tell Billie such things. My thoughts and feelings should always remain a secret. It would be a disaster to let anyone know what goes on inside my head.

'About before all of this' I reply instead. I instantly regret my answer since there is not really anything that's even close worth talking about from "before all of this". My past life was shitty and the people that were in it were even shittier.

'Tell me about it, how was the life of a teenage high-school student?' Billie jokes at me. I laugh at his response and look up at him. A spark shoots through his emerald green eyes as he meets mine. I didn't really want to talk to him about my life before the apocalypse, but I've started the topic myself so I'll just have to suck it up and see.

I wanted to tell him that the only thing I ever did was look for love. And that I never succeeded doing so, but he wouldn't care lots I guess. Nobody ever cares lots anyway. To see him lose the little interest in me that he might have would be too painful. So I just start about the obvious. School. (Which, mind you, also wasn't that wonderful. At least it's not a sensitive topic for me.)

'Straight out boring. Classes were a complete waste and the homework they gave was even less useful. The education system was a giant fuck-up.'

I wasn't lying though, the education system really was a rampage.

'No teachers were ever really excited about what they were doing and they never told me anything that wasn't in the book already anyway. That's also why I never went. If I stayed in my dorm to study I used my time better than if I took the classes.' I keep rambling on.

Billie folds his arms and cocks his head to the side as he gives me an interesting look. Is he actually caring about what I have to say? Nobody ever cares, so why would he?

The sparks shooting through his green eyes give me the courage to continue my little "speech".

'And also I never made homework, but I did study a lot, my grades were really good. The teachers just couldn't see that and always thought I was this lazy punk that sat on her ass all day. I hated those fuck-tards, there were very few I could even stand for that matter.'

I look at Billie again, who now has a small grin plastered on his face. His eyes are still shooting fireworks and he's just staring at me really intensely.

'You really are a one-of-a-kind punk' he laughs.

I raise an eyebrow in confusion as I feel my cheeks begin to burn a bright shade of red. I can't suppress a little smile. 'Eh... y-yeah' I mumble. Great, he already thinks I'm a weirdo. I haven't even mentioned the fact that I don't drink alcohol or do drugs. He would lose his shit if he heard that.

'So, basically you skipped classes to stay in your dorm and study?'

I nod my head in agreement. I'm such a fucking dork, I wouldn't even be surprised if Billie would just get up and run away. 'Basically, yeah' I add, studying the flower pattern on my bedsheets.

Billie laughs a little. 'That's cute'.

My head shoots up at his comment. The butterflies in my stomach are bouncing and racing in every direction. Billie still has his arms folded and he gives me a quick wink as our eyes interlock. I give him a shy smile in return.

I can feel my head turning into a more intense shade of red and I quickly break eye contact. Did he just actually say I'm cute? My heartbeat speeds up as the words race through my head. Billie Joe Armstrong just fucking told me I was cute and he winked at me.

Don't faint. Don't faint. Don't faint. Don't mess this up in any way, I keep repeating in my head over and over again. Human interactions always scare the crap out of me.

We sit a few minutes in silence. A comfortable silence, though, but I there's a tension. It circles around me like a thin string of yarn and I get entangled in it more and more as the seconds pass. I can feel the thread cut through my flesh, trying to suffocate me, until Billie decides to break the silence. I'm released from its tight grip in time.

'I think it's time to go.'

It's like I'm being stabbed in the chest. I know he has to go, but it still hurts. It hurts like shit. Just when he seems to have at least a little interest in me, he takes off. It's everything everybody always does to me and I've learned to deal with it. Suck it up and see, y'know, but with Billie it's different.

No one has ever said I was cute. He made me feel special. I felt special and different while listening to his music and I feel special when I talk to him.

I simply nod, my eyes still taped to the bedsheets. I feel a weight lift off the bed and look up to see Billie now standing in the doorway. I flip the sheets off of me and crawl out of bed. Billie's eyes are scanning my pajama until he looks back up at me again.

'You'd probably want to wear something else, it's getting cold out there.' Billie points at the window, taking his eyes away from my piece of clothing.

'Oh, n-no it's fine, the gates are not that far away, it's only like a two-minute walk' I explain, smiling at him.

Billie gives me a confused look and opens his mouth to say something, but closes it again, unable to find the right words.

'You're going to look for your wife, right??' I ask him, hesitantly.

'No.' he simply answers.

'We're going to look for my wife"