Adopted by Austin Carlile

St. Jimmy?

*Here's a new chapter guys and gals! Thank you so much for reading my story, liking and commenting on it! I'm in the process of writing another story called "Daughter of Rage and Love: My Stepdad Billie Armstrong" if y'all want, check it out. Love you all my lovely Squidgy's!*

My heart is beating from me. No pun intended. Tre let himself in, walking past Billie into the kitchen, completely oblivious to my state of being. Billie on the other hand had a peculiar look on his face that I didn't much like. It took form when he noticed Andy briskly walking across his front lawn. And it evolved more into something between a smirk and a scowl as he neared us.

"Hey-" Andy said, but was quickly cut off by Billie's curt remark, "Next time, don't march all over my azaleas with your giant feet. The Black Parade doesn't cut across my lawn, so use the fucking walkway, it's there for a reason,"

Then he walked off, as Andy was left staring speechless after him.

"What's wrong with him?" he asked me, whilst wrapping me into a hug.

"I don't know..." I trailed off, all the while thinking: he can smell it on me, he can smell it on me!

But he lightly disentangled himself from me, kind of like I did last night.

He then proceeded to appraise me, a light smile playing on his lips, his eyes twinkling happily. I can bet you anything that once he finds out, that smile will get wiped right off his face.

"So how are you?" he asked as my heart broke, but not enough to care. What is love? What is it not? How do you know you're in love? What's the philosophy behind realizing you're just not right for a person, but they're right for you?

"I'm fine...how did you know I was here?" I asked him cautiously.

"I stopped by Austin's and he told me you went out with Billie. Then I called Mike, and he told me you both took off with Billie to what he assumed was Billie's house. So I came here," Andy said and looked at me.

"Okay," I said, not knowing what to say. Or do for that matter.

"Are, are you coming home? I mean, I can drive you," he said and looked at me with those puppy dog eyes. Why aren't they melting my heart like they used to?

"No I'm fine, I'd rather walk home, have to think about some things," I said, and made a move to walk back into the house.

"Well...okay, I'll see you later then," he said as I closed the door on him, thankful that he didn't press for details.

I sighed and leaned my head against the front door. When did things get so out of hand?

There was a loud chortle followed closely by a German ballad that sounded a tad bit too happy. What in all the fuckery is that? I tiptoed through the hallway and peeked into the kitchen. Oh it's nothing, just Tre being...Tre? He was the source of all the commotion, balancing a tray on his head while cooking something that smelled too good to be true, and simultaneously singing.

"You seen Billie?" I yelled to be heard.

"Upstairs," he sang back.

I walked up the stairs, ignoring the ballads, and looked around for Billie. That old fart seemed to disappear into thin air.

"Billie!" I yelled as I walked past each room, glancing in. His house really is beautiful, now that I can appreciate its beauty. Yesterday I was a little too preoccupied with the task at hand to notice anything.

Each room held a different personality, with completely different furniture when compared with the room before and after it. One room held dark mahogany furniture and was structured after something from the 18th century. The room after it looked like Billie came across a giant sale on love seats and chairs, and decided to buy enough of everything that if he lived to see Armageddon he'll be able to make a profit by selling all the extras.