Forever Now

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Tré's POV

Something is wrong with Billie. I can see his eyes shooting around the room, unable to focus. His movements are sloppy and slow, like he's lost control of his body. It looks like it's taking all his self control just to sit up properly. This isn't how Billie acts when he's drunk, this is different. I glance at Billie's drink and realize it's not even alcohol. I know this isn't a panic attack, he's too relaxed. We exchange a look. I can see the terror and fear exceeding from his eyes alone. It's like he's begging me to help him, but I don't know what's wrong.

"Billie Joe, where did you get your drink from?" I ask frantically.

Billie has a confused look on his face, like he can't apprehend what I'm saying.

"Billie, you're scaring me. What happened?"

I don't think he even heard me.

"I uh I'm go...going to the uh the uh bathroom." He manages to choke out.

I watch as Billie musters all of his strength just to push himself out of his chair. My eyes follow him, as he leans against anything he can just to make it to the bathroom. Before I go after him, I need to figure out what happened. I grab Billie's can of pop and inspect it.

"I'm going to go powder my nose, baby." I overhear Christine say to Mike, as she kisses him on the cheek.

I watch her walk towards the bathroom doors. I can feel the trepidation hit me as she opens the door to the mens room, check to see if anyone else is in it, and enter. Still clutching the can, I turn to Mike.

"Mike, where the fuck did Billie get this drink?" I demand.

He shrugs, "Christine got it for him, after you upset him."

Oh my god...

"Did she fucking drug him?"

"What the fuck, Tré? Of course not!" Mike quickly defends.

"Then why the fuck is Billie so fucking tipsy?" I spit at him.

"I don't know! Maybe it's a spiked soda."

"Billie would not be this drunk after one fucking cooler." I say firmly.

"Whatever, Tré. I don't understand why you'd accused her."

"Mike, I saw her follow him into the bathroom..." I say quietly.

Mike is silent for a moment.

"Well, maybe she's making sure he's ok."

I force a laugh and stand up.

"Fucking fine. Just watch the bathroom door, incase we need to call 911."

I run towards the bathroom. I don't blame Mike for defending Christine. She's his fiancé, of course he'll side with her. I don't want to believe she'd hurt Billie, but...

I step inside the men's room. I know someone's in here because I can hear movement.

"Billie... are you in here?" I call out.

The shuffling sound stops. There's a small whimper, followed by a slapping noise. I walk to the only locked stall and bang on the door.

"Billie? Is that you?" I ask, my voice shaking.

When there's no response, I glance underneath the door. To my immediate horror I can see jet black hair sticking out. I begin throwing myself against the door as hard as I can.

"BILLIE!" I screamed his name over and over again as I continued to throw myself against the door.

Our final conversation began to replay in my mind,

"What do you want me to say?"

"Anything!"

"I don't know... I just... I just feel like I don't know you anymore..."

No. I didn't mean it. I swear, I didn't mean it. The door still isn't open and my arm is bruised. This isn't working.

"What can I do then?"

"Nothing. I love you Billie Joe, but I need time."

Not knowing what else to do, I grab Billie by the hair and try to pull him out from under. There's something on him, weighing him down. I snag under his arm and pull harder.

"Let go of him!" I scream.

Whoever is on top of him must've gotten off because I'm able to pull Billie out. Before I can even look at Billie, the stall door is open and Christine is lunging at me. Her hands grip my throat before I can even react. I can feel each finger curl around my throat with great force. I can feel her anger pulse through her fingers with each squeeze. Without even thinking I punch her in the face as hard as I can. It's just hard enough to force her to break her concentration and relinquish her grip around my neck. Before she can hurt me again, I grab a fistful of her dirty blonde hair and bash her head against the wall. Every fiber of my being is desperately trying to inflict as much pain as I can into this one movement. I can feel myself becoming overwhelmed with anger and devastation. The devastation comes when Christine hits the floor and I finally turn to look at Billie. There's blood coming out of his head and spewing all over the white floor tiles. His shirt is undone and his pants are around his ankles. She touched him. I didn't make it in time. His body looks so frail and small. I don't allow myself to think of the worst possible out come. Billie might recover from the drug she used and the head injury, but the mental scars this would leave... One thought haunts me immediately. I try to push it away, but it replays in my mind over and over again. Once again, Billie was in a near death situation because I had abandoned him when he needed me.

My thoughts are interrupted when a fiery pain overflows the back of my head. I stumble forward and turn around to see Christine on her feet again. She runs at me and our fight continues. Why the fuck did Mike have to marry a god damn body builder? I'm secure enough with my masculinity to admit that she is way stronger then me. She puts me in a headlock and attempts to pull me down. I reach my arms around her and flip her over me. She's on her back and I'm on top of her. My fists collide into her disgusting face over and over again. I can feel white hot tears building up in my eyes. I'm so angry, it sickens me. I've never felt so much loathing for another person before. There is so much blood on her face, that I can't see the ugliness in her eyes. I want to break her. I want to break her, the way she broke Billie. She stole whatever innocence he had left. That can never be replaced.

"Tré?"

The voice is so feeble and small, that I almost miss it. I quickly look up and see Billie staring at me. Christine takes full advantage of my moment of distraction, and pushes me off of her.

"Run, Billie! Go get help! Get Mike!" I scream.

Christine and I are both on our feet again. I run at her, knocking her into the wall, before she can get to Billie again.

Billie is using any strength he has left to crawl towards the door. He manages to drag his body halfway through the door, before he collapses. I've pined Christine against the wall, restricting her.

"I already told Mike." I whisper. "You're too late. He knows exactly who you are now."

Christine spits in my face, which is without a doubt the most disgusting thing I've ever experienced. I loosen my grip on her. I gasp loudly, as thin smile crosses her bloody face. It feels like she's punched me in the stomach again, except I can feel my shirt getting wet. I stumble backwards and fall to the floor. I begin to violently throw up as a hot pain thrashes through my stomach. I'm on my hands and knees, attempting to comprehend what's happening. There's pressure put on my back and I fall into my own vomit. I feel Christine sit on my lower back. I turn my head sideways, in an attempt to look at her. She puts her left hand on the side of my head, pinning me. In her right hand is a switchblade. Where the fuck did she get that? Is this why girls always have those ridiculously huge purses? She's raising it and I know what this means.

"I guess I have nothing to lose, then." She whispers.

Oddly enough, I don't mind. I know I'm about to die, but it's ok. It's ok because at least I'll be with Billie. I can hear the last thing Billie said to me,

"I love you more then life itself, Frank. I'll do whatever you ask."

"I love you."

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