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When Somebody Loved Me	By : pols4elijah Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Green Day Views: 876 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Green Day. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-When Somebody Loved Me
- 1
I never thought this would happen.

Everyday passes just as slow and uneventful as the last; the sun almost taunting me with its slow movements across the gloomy sky. I can hear the people of my neighbourhood outside, each voice cheerful in greeting before their car engines rumble and they each leave to their duties. Me, however…I can’t leave the house. Not since what happened.

Not since I lost him.

I can’t trust anybody anymore, so much so that interaction itself seems too much for my spirit to take. So, I stay home. I stay inside my dreary, dull house and sit on the couch. I sit on my couch and stare at the letter like the pathetic man I am.

I stare at the letter which he left me four years ago.

Yes, that’s right. I can’t get over it. I’m so low as to think he’ll actually come back and apologise, just like he did last time? Ha. The sad thing is, that’s exactly what part of my mind is saying to me;

‘Today will be the day…’

Right. Yeah, it will.

I put all of my trust into that man, the man I loved. But then…he throws it all away and leaves me shattered and broken like discarded rubbish. He promised me…he fucking promised me that he wouldn’t change….I guess moving away does that to people; it shows them a brand new aspect to life and makes them forget all about their real home and who’s waiting for them. Fucking Chicago…

I remember the first time I met him. I’ll never forget it, no matter how much I want to. I remember just aimlessly wandering around Berkley for a few hours one night; hitting a few parties (or at least trying to) before heading toward Gilman. That’s where I saw him; leaning against the scratched and graffiti-infested walls of Gilman Street, a cigarette delicately perched between his fingers. His raven black hair flew gently in the cold evening wind, as did the smoke. He’d opened those eyes of his as he heard me approach and, as weird as it sounds, I’ll never forget that moment. It was the first time I’d seen the deep shade of green his eyes possessed; the emerald tints bouncing and shining from the light of the street lamp above us. It was so unbelievable.

“Why don’t you take a picture?” he asked quietly, his voice hoarse and somewhat sharp but quiet at the same time.
I’d grinned and placed myself next to him against the wall.

“Would you like me to take your picture?” I asked.
He looked at me, taking a slow drag of his cigarette before he answered;

“Not really…”

I chuckled.

“Couldn’t get in huh?”

His eyes narrowed but he let out a low chuckle and let his head hang back down, staring at the tarmac and holding his cigarette to his lips again.

“That easy to tell?” he asked.
“Just a little.” I replied.

As he let the smoke smoothly draw out of his nostrils and into the air, he turned to look at me and held the cigarette out to me.

“Billie Joe.” He said.

I smiled back, taking the cigarette. I took a deep drag and sighed as the nicotine crept into my system; the smoke gently gliding out of my mouth.

“Trè.” I’d said.

I have to admit, looking back on it now; my heart had leapt as I lay my eyes on him. I was beginning to become comfortable with my sexuality so I guess Billie was the first person I’d found myself attracted to, despite him being a guy.

As the weeks went by, Billie and I became closer. We were always at one another’s houses; chilling and talking about music while we got high together.

Just us two.

After about three weeks, I ended up confessing.

Billie and I were sat on my couch, pointlessly watching some game show on TV. He had his head leant on my shoulder and I’d casually draped my arm around his shoulders.

“Uhh…Billie?”
“Mmm?”
“I have something…big to tell you…”

It was the scariest thing I’ve ever done but, I did it. From then, I was more than happy to call him my boyfriend. We’d kissed for the first time that night and it’s a kiss that’ll live with me forever.

We were going fine for a few months and we soon brought up the courage to take our relationship to the next level. We started having sex and, before long, we ended up doing it almost every night, usually at his house because his Mom and Step-Dad were always out working. It was so precious, lying in bed with him afterward. He’d always fall asleep first and I promised myself that I’d never forget how beautiful he looked as he lay beside me.
We were always there for each other. He’d come round whenever he felt upset and I’d sit with him and wipe away his tears, whispering to him that I loved him.

I made him laugh.
I made him smile.
I made him scream.
I made him happy…

However, something came up.

Billie’s step-Dad found a new job in Chicago.

When he told me, I’d almost burst into tears and his arms immediately wrapped around me.

“Billie, please! You can’t leave. I don’t want to loose you!” I’d pleaded quietly into his chest.
“You won’t loose me, Trè. I swear it.”

He cupped my chin and lifted it so that I was looking back into those emerald green eyes that I fallen in love with.

“I swear to you, no matter what happens…”

He leant forward and pressed his lips onto mine, drawing his sweet tongue over my lips. I whined and opened for him, tasting the cigarettes.

“…I’ll always love you.” He’d whispered, moving away from the kiss slowly and his soft breath brushing my lips.

The next day, he moved away.

I’d stood there, at the end of his driveway and watched him smile sadly at me from the back windshield of his step-dad’s car. I could do nothing but wave and watch as the car pulled away, taking Billie Joe with it. As it had disappeared around the corner, I’d collapsed to my knees and cried.

Over the following weeks he wrote to me almost constantly and I’d replied. He told me how much he hated Chicago and that he missed me. I said the same.

But then something changed.

The letters stopped coming.

The last one I’d read was probably the most confusing. It had been about 5 months since he’d gone and, upon seeing the familiar writing, I’d practically torn open the envelope;

Tre,
I guess Chicago isn’t going to be so bad after all.
I’ve made a couple of new friends here over the past few
months, but I think the best one out of them all is Mike.
I think you’d like him.
He has the same taste in music as we did and is
awesome to hang around with. He plays bass, so we’re
thinking of starting a band together (He knows this
guy who plays drums.)

I’m sorry things had to end up like this, Tre. I know
that what we had was special but I guess…everybody
has to learn from the past and move along right?

I hope you’re doing OK. I certainly am, so there’s no
need to worry about that.

Billie

I didn’t reply to that letter. I threw it away, thinking it must have been wrong.

Soon, 12 years had dragged by and no other letters were sent. Even so, I was still in love with him…but I guess he forgot about me when he met Mike.

What made things even worse, was him coming back.

I was lying on my sofa, flicking through the TV channels and swirling a half empty-half full bottle of beer in my hand. There were knocks at the door. I sighed and pushed myself up, my legs aching with protest as I forced them to move.

I placed my beer on the coffee table and sighed wearily, running a hand through my greasy hair. As the knocks became more frantic, I called out to the caller, unknowing who it really was behind that door.

“Alright alright! Jesus…”

I unlocked the door sharply and practically yanked the door open with sheer frustration.
“Have you any idea wh-”

I froze.

There, standing on my porch in the dark…it was him. The boy I fell in love with but had left me...the boy who forgot about me. Only now, he was a man.

Billie Joe.

“Hi Trè…” he said quietly. “It’s been a while, huh?”

I couldn’t believe it, I truly couldn’t. Half of me wanted to cry for joy and launch myself at him; cling to him like we used to before he moved and have him kiss me and say he was sorry and that he was home.

The other half, though, wanted to punch him in the face.

I must have been standing there in silence for at least a few minutes, because Billie began to shift awkwardly on his feet, looking at me with guilt pouring out of those fucking amazing eyes.

“May I come in?” he asked quietly.

My body reacted before I even had the chance to think; moving aside and letting his small form into my house. He smiled briefly and moved inside, hurrying into the front room as I shut the door.

“Coffee?” I offered, instinctively.
“No…thank you.” He answered.

He moved to the sofa and slowly sat down, sighing a little. He sounded and looked tired, his hair scruffy and small dark rings stuck underneath his eyes. I stood above him with my arms folded and shook my head in disbelief as Billie found a seemingly fascinating part of the sofa cushions and stared at it sadly.

“What…I…What are you doing here? I thought you were in-” I stuttered.
“I was...” he replied quickly, his eyes darting up to mine before flickering around him and landing on the cushions again. “But…I …I needed to see you, Trè.”

After a few moments of deadly silence, I sighed, sitting down next to him and watching as he began to fiddle with a stray thread on one of the cushions.

“Billie…it’s been 12 years…how could you ‘need’ to see out of the blue?”
“The way I left…” he began, his eyes drooping closed in exhaustion. “I feel so bad, Trè.”

Part of my mind was screaming at me to comfort him, just like I would’ve done before all of this. My brain wanted me to give in and take him in my arms and I suddenly felt a tingle on my palms; an itching and craving for a touch of Billie’s body.

“You…you broke your promise, Billie Joe.” I said slowly, trying to refrain from letting gmy hand shoot out and wipe away the tear, slowly falling down Billie’s cheek.

“I-I know…I’m so sorry, Tre…I swear, I’ve never forgotten you-”

I sat there dumbly as I watched him cry quietly and the sight alone was bringing me closer to tears myself. My heart was being gripped by guilt; iron clad and strong enough to break the hold of my mind; my hand slowly reaching out and hovering over Billie’s cheek. I hesitated a little, but my heart soon won over my mind. I tentatively cupped Billie’s face in my palm and brush my thumb over the path of his small tears. His eyes opened and he gazed at me, surprised and hopeful.

“Mike and I…we’re close.” He whimpered, not breaking his eyes from mine. “I didn’t know what was happening. In my heart, you were always the one I’d love. But…but then Mike told me he had f-feelings and…I came to realize that…I did too. I couldn’t face telling you…not even by letter. So…so I s-stopped…I’m so sorry for what I did, Trè. I took the coward’s way out and I’ve never forgiven myself since…”

The words tumbled from his lips, but I silenced them. My finger gently pressed against them and he grew quiet, gasping lightly at the sudden contact. Old sparks were being relit inside of me and I continued to stare at him.

I saw the green I’d seen on the day we met. Only, this time, it was flooded by grief and guilt.

“Billie, I’ve never stopped loving you. 12 years may be a long time…but it’s always stayed the same for me.” I had whispered, self consciously leaning closer. “It may not be for you…but I’ve been praying for you to come back ever since you got into your step-dad’s car…”
The last thing I heard before I closed my eyes, was him whispering my name.

“Tre…”

Our lips grazed before we started to kiss, each one of our quiet moans filling the room.
The fire was burning brightly now and I needed to feel him underneath me again. Our kiss became faster and more desperate; his hands moving to grip at my hair as he shifted into my lap, my own palms moving underneath his shirt to let my fingers spread out on familiar skin. I groaned and leaned back to land on the couch cushions, with Billie on top of me.

I lost all sense that night. The feeling of being inside of him again, after so long… was just perfect. I saw stars as I came and I don’t remember much for the first couple of minutes. He fell asleep first.

I tilted my head to look up at him; his small and beautiful body resting on my chest. I smiled and swallowed back the urge to cry, stroking my fingers through his hair and pushing it away from his eyes. I placed a light kiss on his forehead. He murmured and gently shifted in his sleep.

“…I love you so much…” I’d whispered.

The next thing I knew, it was morning. My eyes blinked rapidly as the sunlight poured into the room and burned at my eyes. As my senses focused, I realized that I was alone; Billie’s weight no longer on top of me. I sat up a little too quickly and looked around.

“Billie?” I called.

There was no answer.

My eyes spotted a folded piece of paper sitting on the coffee table in front of me. My heart thudded against my chest with anxiety, as I picked it up. I opened it and again… I froze.

I’m sorry.

I love him.

B

My hands clenched and twisted at the piece of paper, my eyes flicking over the words again and again in disbelief.

I leant forward, crying and shaking as I let the letter fall from my grip.

Now…that very letter sits in front of me now; perched on the table and staring me down. I’ve cried all of the tears I can muster over that man, yet I can never seem to stop. I’m alone again, hopelessly waiting for those words he promised all of that time ago.

“…I will always love you.”

END
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When Somebody Loved Me