A/N: Could not think of a better title. Sorry.
Have fun, regardless! I didn't wait a month this time, YAY! xxx
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When I came around, I instantly knew I landed on my damaged hip, for the pain was peircing. I silently cursed under my breath, my eyes still glued shut. I felt the cold, hard ground beneath me and I realised I wasn’t in my bed. I wasn’t in my room – I was somewhere else. My eyes shot open quickly and I realised where I was. Alfie’s kitchen. It came flooding back to me suddenly and I was feeling sick all over again. No, I thought to myself, why can’t it be a dream? Please god, let it be a dream.
“Grace?” someone was saying, a blurred figure standing over me. I wasn’t sure if it was Declan or Alfie at the time, and I only groaned in response, shutting my eyes again. The pain of my hip and the person pain was almost too much to take all at once. “Grace, are you okay? Dianne, get her some water...”
“My side,” I managed to force out. “Oh my God, I think it busted...”
“You just landed on it, that’s all,” Alfie’s voice said. I felt someone raise up my shirt a bit, and no doubt they saw the large purplish blue mark where the table had so cruelly jabbed me. There was a pause before someone else said, “Grace, where did you get this bruise?”
“Table... table caught my side,” I mumbled. I didn’t expect them to believe me, of course. That would be too easy to fit into my life, wouldn’t it? There was a loud uproar, and suddenly, Billie took the place of the table, and what turned out to be an innocent, clumsy accident was now a result of rape. I tried to deny it, but none of them were listening to me. I couldn’t even sit up. Yep, that’s definitely a busted hip. Anything else you want to throw in there, fate? Maybe throw in getting struck by lightening, that’ll be fun.
I knew, more than anyone, how much I hated Billie Joe Armstrong. More than anyone could hate anything, more than Hitler hated the Jews, maybe. Perhaps this was karma. I had wished all these horrible things on the person my mother was marrying and now that they were happening, I want to take it all back again in a haste, because I didn’t like the end result. That seemed to fit into my life perfectly. I wish for something and when it happens, I don’t want it anymore. I wanted many things to happen to Billie – but I would never have wished this on him. He was no rapist.
He was so nice to you, and now look at what you’ve done, the voice in the back of my head snapped impatiently at me. You’ve ruined everything. Your mom’s wedding, your mom’s happiness, Joey’s family life, Green Day’s career – you’ve ruined it all.
So much destruction should not come from one teenager outside of the movie Clockwork Orange. I was no destruction button, or not before Billie stepped into my life. I was quiet, innocent, completely hate free. And all because of one petty reason. Billie Joe made my mother happy, and I decided that wasn’t a good thing. He made her happy, she made him happy and I got angry because I wasn’t happy. Kage accepted it, Hollie accepted it, Joey accepted it, Jakob accepted it, Declan, Dianne, Alfie, Tracy – hell, even Fearghal accepted it better than I did.
“He didn’t do it, he didn’t,” I tried to protest, attempting to get up. Two people took my arms and helped me onto my feet. It was a struggle to stand.
“Call the ambulance,” Dianne ordered someone in the background. “She’s really damaged her side.”
“No, I don’t need a hospital,” I said, tearing up rapidly all of a sudden. “Take me home, I need to put this right! This isn’t true, he didn’t hurt me, he’d never hurt me!” My outburst was taken the wrong way. Of course.
“Grace, you don’t need to cry – we’ll get him locked up, I swear,” Fearghal said to me. I shook my head impatiently.
“You don’t understand, he didn’t, he didn’t hurt me, he didn’t do anything to me – he loves mom too much to hurt me,” I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking as they helped me hop into the living room. “He didn’t touch me!”
“Then what’s this?” Declan asked, holding out a page in the offending magazine. I took it with shaking hands, furrowing my eyebrows in confusion. It was very cleverly photoshopped. Apparently, at some point in my life, Billie had grabbed my arm and the forged image made him look very angry. And then there was me, terrified and shrinking away from him. And I didn’t rmemeber any of these pictures happening. The last one repulsed me in such a way I didn’t spend more than a millisecond looking at it. No doubt he would have thought it was me who made this.
“No, it’s not true, it’s not true!”
“Grace, the proof is there. In black and white,” Tracy said, gently, rubbing my arm. “It’s okay, you don’t have to be ashamed. We’re all family here.”
“But he didn’t do it, he didn’t! I need to talk to Joey, where is he...?”
“He’s getting a flight to Minnesota to meet Adrienne there,” Kage informed me. “I don’t think he’s left yet though... why do you wanna talk to him?”
“I just do, I need to see him,” I said, frantically. “Call him, tell him to come over here, I need to speak to him.”
“Grace, calm down-”
“Someone’s been lying!” I screeched in a fit of hysteria. “Someone’s been spreading lies! This isn’t true! This is going to ruin everything, I’m going to ruin everything if I don’t put things right!”
“She’s in shock, the poor thing...”
“Get her some painkillers, don’t just let her sit there.”
“Did anyone tell Sammie about this yet?”
“Mom – I need to talk to mom!” I cried out. “Where’s my phone, I need to see my mom!”
“She’s... she’s with him,” Alfie told me. “Look, Grace, calm down, it’s going to be okay...”
“It’s not going to be okay – it’s all lies!”
I could bore you on with the details of what all happened – it was all the same. I got to the hospital, I had fractured my hip. I’d be in crutches for a good while (yes, Mrs Robinson did kill me for it) after the fall and I was told to take it easy. I saw on the reception desk the copy of the magazine of me and Billie on the front, the big bold letters sticking out at me, making me feel sick. This shouldn’t happen. This can’t have happened. It was all what was going through my head. After a while, I pretended to be asleep to get rid of everyone. Once they were gome, I located my phone and dialled in Joey’s number.
It rang.
It was rejected.
I decided to text him – calling him was a lost cause. I told him everything, I told him it wasn’t me and I only found out a few hours ago. And I was disgusted by it. I claimed that I would have owned it by now if it were me. Not that it ever would have been. Would he be convinced? I didn’t know. But it was worth a damn try.
I called Aiden to tell him all about how it was a lie. How none of it happened. He was the only one to believe me, and promised he’d do some investigating at home to find out who was the little douche bag who decided it was a good idea to fuck with my family life. I thanked him for it and we ended the conversation on the words “I love you”.
And then I called my mom. The phone rang and rang, until it finally decided to tell me my mom’s phone was turned off. Fuck. There was no point in calling Billie – I never bothered to get his number. But I knew I had to get to him somehow. Think, think, think Grace. Who do you know who drives...?
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“It was a lie?” Tord said, shocked out of his mind. “For serious? Who would spread something so sick?”
“I don’t know... I don’t know who would do it,” I said, running a hand through my hair, exasperated.
“Jesus Christ, Grace. It scared the shit out of all of us. We didn’t know what to think, we tried not to believe it but... but there was pictures!”
“Fake.”
“Seriously? But they’re so real...”
“The person must have exceedingly good photoshop skills, I’ll give them that much,” I sighed, already feeling tired again. “But other than that, they are going the fuck down. I don’t understand why someone would want to do that to anyone.”
“That’s the press for you, Grace. Absolutely ruthless,” Tord sighed, his hands gripped around the wheel tightly. “I can’t believe this... that fucker has ruined your whole life. As well as pretty much ending the fanbase of Green Day. I mean... that’s just sick. Sick as hell. Why would anyone want to do that indeed, Grace. Why, indeed.”
“Take a right here,” I said, as Tord pulled right into a turn off that would lead to Billie’s house. My entire body started to fill with the utmost of fear and dread. I didn’t care if I was disowned here (okay, maybe I did) but I had to clear Billie Joe Armstrong’s name. He was an annoying pest at the best of times, but he was definitely not a rapist.
We pulled up into Billie’s lane a few moments later, and I grabbed my crutches like war weapons and opened the car door, fighting my way out of the car. Tord got out of the drivers seat and looked at the house. I noticed Billie’s car was gone... I wondered what that meant... had he already left? Was I too late to sort this made, crazy shit out? Had he done a mad runner? With my mom perhaps?
“Do you want me to go in with you?” Tord asked me, looking over at me. I shook my head, adjusting my crutches to my liking and shuffling around to look at him. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. If I need help, I’ll call you. You just stay here, just in case, okay?” I asked him. Tord nodded his head in agreement. “Thanks for helping me, Tord. You’re a star for this.”
“Good luck, Gracie,” he said, smiling at me. I hobbled my way up to the door, feeling about as useful as an empty candy wrapper at this point. I opened the front door to the house and braced myself for the worst...