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Suicide Blonde	By : redqueeninwonderland Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Green Day Views: 3766 -:- 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
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Ava counted the rings. Once. Twice. On the third a woman answered. She hung up.
She made herself breathe. Then she tried again, going slow this time so she made sure she got the numbers right.
“Hello?” It was that same voice. Definitely female. And this time slightly annoyed. She could hear a sleepy man’s voice in the background. Dammit, why was she surprised? She hung up again.
This time, as she dialed, she made herself go through what she would say. She’d ask politely for Billie. She tell him she wanted to meet him for lunch. Her hand was shaking so badly she missed a number and had to start over. Somebody picked up on the first ring.
“Who is this?” The female voice was shrill.
Ava couldn’t bring herself to answer. But she didn’t hang up either. She breathed.
“Hello?” Definitely annoyed. “Who is this?”
Ava’s breath caught in her throat.
“Alright, listen you perv, I’m wearing a black leather thong and a metal bra, I’ve got a whip. That get you horny? Huh?!”
Ava hung up.
Her heart was racing. Her palms were sweating. It wasn’t right. But then, she really wasn’t surprised. Just because she hadn’t didn’t mean she was surprised he had. Hell, he’d told her he would. It just hurt. And just because a woman answered his cell phone doesn’t mean that she’s…
She got up and walked outside. Looked at the city for about two seconds and then stalked back inside. She grabbed an orange juice out of the honor bar and drank the 8 ounce bottle down in two swallows. She wanted to throw up. He’d seemed so happy to see her last night. So excited. And all that time he had…
But what if he didn’t? Maybe he left because she had to leave him and then went back into the club to the party. He went to the bar, she could totally see it, had a drink, maybe another, and then some girl came up to him. She was polite, but interested. She liked his album. She liked his tie. She liked his-
Ava wanted to vomit.
How was he with somebody and it wasn’t all over the tabloids?
Because it was completely impossible for Billie Joe Armstrong to have a relationship and have nobody in the media know about it, wasn’t it? She thought with a sneer. Damn!
She was being ridiculous.
And kinda psycho.
She had no right to judge him. Just because she had been acting like a nun, because she wasn’t interested in anybody else… Not that it didn’t make her angry as hell that she wasn’t interested in anybody else. Because it did.
She sighed. Picking up the receiver she dialed again. This time a different number. One she called often.
“Hey princess,” Tre didn’t sound particularly surprised to hear from her.
“Hey,” her dad gave her his number right about the same time he gave her Billie’s. The second week she’d been in college. She called Tre at least once a week. They talked. She got the skinny on Billie in as roundabout a way as she knew how. At least in the beginning. After about a month of that he’d basically told her to call him herself if she wanted to know so much.
Of course she couldn’t’ do that. So she stopped asking about Billie and started making regular conversation. It was nice, having somebody from back home who cared, but not enough to guilt trip her for not really ’fully enjoying’ all that the pretentious fucks at Uni had to offer.
She knew he never told Billie about their conversations. She’d never asked him why. But either way she was glad. Especially since apparently Billie was seeing somebody.
“Have fun last night?”
“You know it. How’d you know it was me?” She twisted the phone cord around her index finger. They never talked about what was going on, just shot the shit. Tre was surprisingly good at never talking about anything important.
“Because you’re the only person I know who calls whenever the fuck she wants and doesn’t give a shit about what time it is where I am.” He laughed, “Kept waiting for you to get trashed and go topless last night.”
“Nah, that was just the once.” Every now and then he’d bring that up. She didn’t like thinking about it. “Listen…”
“You want Billie’s number, don’t you?”
Ava flipped on the television. He didn’t beat around the bush, did he? “Actually, I already have it. Just called it. Some bitch answered.”
Tre muttered something under his breath. “You called his cell?” He sounded incredulous.
“Yeah, that’s the number I have.”
“And a girl answered.”
“Did I stutter?” Ava let out her breath in a long gush. “So what’d you do after you left last night?”
“Don’t change the subject, that’s not even… nah-uh. No way he got any last night.” He sounded actually upset, his voice all righteous indignation. She wondered if it were for her. Nah. Ava narrowed her eyes.
“Listen, it’s no big deal, Tre.”
“The hell it isn’t, Billie’s not—wait, how’d you get his number?”
Ava changed the channel. She didn’t feel like watching Springer. “Dad gave it to me.”
“But your dad doesn’t- when did he give it to you, exactly?” His confusion was palpable.
“Same time he gave me yours.”
Tre hooted so loud Ava decided her left ear would never be the same again. It was a full commercial break before he stopped for breath.
“Wanna tell me what’s so funny, jerky?” Ava reached for a nail polish remover bottle. Deciding to do something while Tre had insane time.
“Sorry,” he had to stop and breathe, “Billie had his,” he broke off again, wheezing with suppressed laughter, “Ava—“
“Would you quit it, already, I’m sort of upset.” First she’s humiliated, and then he’s going to make fun of her for it. Normally she liked Tre. But every now and then he could be a real bastard.
“Ava,” all laughter was gone from his voice now, “Billie had to have his number changed last year after that whole Paris Hilton hacker thing.” He broke off, laughing again.
“Oh thank G—wait, how does Billie know Paris freaking Hilton?” She sat straight up on the bed, knocking the bottle off the bedside table with the phone cord. “Dammit.”
“Girl do you get whiplash with how fast your mind changes lanes?” Tre was laughing at her again and she didn’t care. She was grabbing for Kleenex to dab up the mess.
“Don’t laugh at me! I just made a big mess in my hotel room,” she cursed again.
“Crap your pants again, did ya? Yeah, I hate it when that happens.”
“You’re a prick.”
“Everybody’s gotta have a hobby.” His mouth was full, he must be talking around his breakfast, she decided, “I met her at a club. She was an annoying bitch so I gave her his number instead.” He laughed again. “Pretty smart, huh?”
“You don’t want your own sex video?”
“Nah, cramps my style. Cool and elusive, that’s me,” he belched. “Cool… elusive…”
“Yeah, okay. So seriously, he’s not, like, seeing anybody?”
“You are so transparent. Six years and you’re still his groupie.”
“Jealous?”
“Sad that you don’t have better taste, is all,” his voice was thoughtful.
“You mean a taste for cool and elusive?” She rolled her eyes, yeah. She was the transparent one.
“Right. So tell me about that guitarist of yours.”
“Who, Alex?” She finished removing the polish from her nails and reached for the silver sparkle. The stuff was a bitch to get off, but it looked cool as hell.
“Who, Alex, she says. Yeah, you dumb blonde, the one who was ravishing you with his eyes all night.” He laughed again.
“Alex was not, we’re just friends.” She painted her pinkie nail with a quick stroke.
“Right, and I’m thirty days clean and sober.”
“It’s true!”
“Okay.” Tre sucked in his breath, “Wait, is this the same Alex you bunk with every night? The guy who sleeps next to you while you flit around in whatever silk number you feel like and doesn’t even try to touch you? That Alex?”
“Yeah, see? Just friends. And I sleep in a tee shirt and boxers, thank you.” She didn’t mention they were usually Alex’s tee shirt and boxers. He’d really have a field day with that one.
“Right, that silk thing was just how I like to envision it. The man is either queer as a football bat or totally, ass crazy, home run derby in love with you.” Tre didn’t even try to sound like he was joking on that one.
“He is not.” Ava painted her middle finger and resituated the phone so it was cradled against her neck. “He’s not, Tre,” she repeated when he didn’t answer right away. “We had a fight this morning.” She said finally.
“Naw, shit, about anybody I know?”
“He figured out Billie and I dated and went all, I dunno-“
“Coocoo for Coco-Puffs?” Tre snorted, “Wait, don’t even tell me the guy had no idea. You didn’t tell him? That’s cold.”
“Well, he knew I dated somebody in high school, and he knew I hadn’t seen anybody since, but-“
“He had no idea it was a weird, half-baked, Lolita acid trip?” he cursed and beat his car horn. Ava wondered where he was driving to, “Ava when you fuck up, you really fuck up.”
“Tre, what are you talking about?”.
“Nothing. So what’re you gonna do about?” He was getting that same parent tone he had when she told him she was going to get a motorcycle. Not that she got the motorcycle. Mainly because he got that tone. Not that she’d ever admit that to Mr. Cool and Elusive
“What do you mean, what am I going to do? What’s to do?” She waved her finished right hand in the air, “He’ll be pissed that I didn’t tell him for a day or two and then he’ll get over it.”
“And you’re not gonna try to, I don’t know, talk about it again?”
“Hell no.” She shrugged, “It’s not really any of his business.”
“Are you serious about trying to get back with Billie again?”
“Well yeah, that was the plan.” Ava bit her lip, “Unless, you know, he doesn’t want to… or something. Have you heard something? Did he say-“
“Ava you are so transparent. So where’s Sir Galahad and his shining white Fender going to sleep if you’re hooking back up with my friend?” He beat his horn and yelled an obscenity.
“I hadn’t thought about it, where are you?”
“Freeway. The gene pool needs chlorine, you know.” She heard his horn again. “Wait a minute, this guy is like your best friend, barring yours truly, and you’re not even thinking about what’s gonna happen to him when you and Billie start knockin’ boots?”
“Well I don’t know, he’ll probably get another room. Why?”
“Has anybody ever told you you’re surprisingly selfish, Aviva Monroe?”
“It’s not that big a deal, Tre, it’s not like we’re married. We just started bunking together because it was easier.” She started on her thumb.
“Easier for who?”
“Can we change the subject, Tre?” This was making her really uncomfortable. Alex would deal. Like that time she almost slept with that guy that time. He came home, saw that she had company, and left for Dave’s. No big.
“Jesus, Ava, okay fine. So you want me to give you Billie’s number or what?” She winced at the exasperation in his voice.
“Tre… are you mad?” She grabbed blindly for the hotel pen and stationary.
“Now why would I be mad at you, princess?” He chuckled, “You ready?”
“Yeah,” she wrote the numbers he gave her and then repeated them back to him just to be sure.
“That’s it. He’s probably still asleep this mornin’. But I say go ahead and wake him up.”
“Cool.”
“Hey, Ava?”
“Yeah, good buddy?” Her heart was beating triple time.
“Go easy on the guy, he’s older… his heart ain’t what it used to be… nubile young thing like you, with your perky breasts and cute, button nose… ya might kill him.”
“Tre!” He was laughing when he hung up on her. She was glad. She hated it when he was annoyed with her. It was just so hard to tick him off. You know?
“Now,” She muttered, forgetting her nails and reaching for the phone, “let’s try this again.”
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Alex ended up in the park across the street from the hotel with a bottle of tequila from the tienda across the street from the hotel. He cracked the top and took a long plug. It burned. But in a good way. A woman wearing a gold sequined tube top and not much else was walking toward him. He smirked. She had a slow, sex smile on. “Hello lover,” she demurred.
Alex rolled his eyes, taking another long swallow from the bottle, “Hello hooker.”
The smile turned into a grin, “Actually, I’m a student. Mind if I sit?”
He shrugged. She slid into the seat next to him like a mongoose. “So how come you look like a hooker?” She inched closer and he didn’t pull away. She had a smell like cocoa butter and vanilla icing. Her skin was dark, coffee dark.
“Went clubbing last night. My apartment is over there,” she waved her hand vaguely, “But I’m too wired to sleep.” Her eyes were green. Weird. He offered her the tequila bottle and she dipped her head, taking a sip and making a face.
“Can’t drink much of that stuff, makes me all funky-like.”
“Really? Just makes me drunk.” He wasn’t sure why he was being such a bastard. It wasn’t like she was Ava or something. Ava’s the one who deserved it.
“You’re in a kickass mood.”
“You don’t have to sit here,” he pointed out, taking another sip of the tequila. It didn’t burn any more. The liquid was just touching the label.
“What’s her name?”
“Ava.” He didn’t try to deny it. Everybody else saw it, even if she didn’t.
Her hand was resting on his thigh. High up on his thigh. It slid infinitesimally higher. “You should forget about her for a while.”
Ava told him he should date or something. Or something. With this pretty student girl. For some reason he believed her when she said she wasn’t a hooker. Her makeup wasn’t heavy enough for one. And she didn’t smell like sex for another. Maybe she was a really bad hooker? Of course, they were only about a block from some campus. She probably was telling the truth. “I don’t know, baby, it’s been a while for me.”
The girl looked shocked. “She holdin’ out on you? What’d you do that was so bad, sugar? Forget her birthday?”
“Nah, we never, I mean…” he set the tequila between his thighs and ran a hand through his hair, “It was my choice. I coulda fucked her in the beginning… before I knew-“
“How long has it been?” “Jesus, five years,” he laughed, he wasn’t lying. When she first got to Boston, this skinny kid nursing a breakup. He could’ve been her rebound guy. Maybe he should’ve.
“Five years?” She whistled, “She have the Virus or somethin’?”
“What? No!” he glared. The girl looked chastened.
“Sorry, that was insensitive.” She dipped her head and fiddled with a gold stud in her ear. “So how come…?”
“Because she’s totally hung up on this other prick who doesn’t even try to talk to her for six years after pushing her in front of a fucking car and of course he’s the lost love of her life.”
“Wait, she wants some guy who pushed her in front of a car?!” The girl shook her head, “Sounds like your girl has issues.”
“No, I’m sorry. I don’t know what the deal was. There was some accident. She decided to move to the east coast. She’s all… stuck on him. Still. She ran into him last night.”
“And now you’re realizing you’ve been a sucker?”
“Yeah.” He took another long, angry sip of the tequila. “I thought I was doing the right thing. Being there for her, or whatever.”
“The right thing for who?” The girl shook her head, “My name’s Liza.” She stuck out her hand.
“Alex,” he said finally, taking her hand and shaking it. The booze was starting to kick in. It was making him sortof buzzed. Sortof?
The girl, Liza, he corrected in his head, was giving him a long look. A soft look. That said she understood. That she cared about him. It was nice. He was being unfair, the back of his mind whispered. He squelched it. He was sick of always thinking about Ava’s needs.
“You’re buzzed, Alex.”
“Yeah…” he laughed, “God, you’ve gotta think I’m pathetic.”
She gave him a long, long look. “Not at all. I think you’re kindof sweet.” She laughed, “In a bad ass kinda way, of course.” She laughed. “Come on, I’ll cook you breakfast.”
“What?” Here he was talking about how he hadn’t gotten any in six years and she was talking about breakfast?! Jesus, now he sorta wished she were a hooker.
“Breakfast. Then shower. Then… when you’re sober…” she shot him a meaningful look and he almost fidgeted. “We’ll let you be selfish.”
“Works for me,” he let her help him up. “Hey, is this a pity jump?”
She laughed, “Maybe. Does that bother you?”
Alex thought about it. Then thought about Ava, up there in the room probably making plans to get together with Mister American Idiot. “No. Just making sure we’re clear.”
“Okay, good.” She pointed up the street. “My apartment’s that way.”
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Billie stood in the hotel lobby and tried to quiet his nerves. She was walking down the staircase, looking phenomenal. She hadn’t seen him yet. She had that inward look that said she was thinking about something hard. She looked awesome. She looked like she hadn’t changed a bit. She looked… upset.
She looked at him for the first time and smiled shyly, Hey. She mouthed. He grinned.
Hey back, he weaved through the crowd until he was standing in front of her. What’s wrong, he still wasn’t speaking. She shrugged.
Long story. Apparently they weren’t even going to try to talk in public. He jerked his head at the hotel restaurant. His eyes questioning. Ava shrugged, she could eat. They walked off in that direction and he let his hand trail backward to find her fingers. She laced her fingers through his and squeezed. Something was definitely weird.
They didn’t actually say anything to each other until they were seated and each had plates piled high with breakfast buffet in front of them. He took a bite of scrambled egg and arched an eyebrow at her. “So…?”
“So…” She blushed. “It’s so good to see you.”
“Yeah, tell me about it,” he washed the egg down with orange juice. “Jake said to tell you that you rocked. And I’m not supposed to tell you he made me buy him another poster. It’s tacked up above his bed.”
She blushed to the roots of her hair. “Holy fuck, I’m his wank material?!”
Billie laughed out loud. “You didn’t see that one coming?” Ava shook her head so hard he thought she’d give herself a seizure. “Ava, the kid’s had a crush on you since he was five. He wants to marry you. Of course you’re his Brooke Burke.”
If it were possible she turned redder. “Well, I mean… okay, so I thought… would you stop laughing already?”
“Okay, I’m sorry.” He grinned, “He’s not the only one, you know. I’ve got one of you hanging in my closet…”
Ava through a rasher of bacon at him. Billie looked affronted. “Hey! I’m a veggie-fucking-tarian! That’s just insensitive!” He wrinkled his nose, “And kinda gross.”
“Billie, this is California, that’s that meatless bacon shit.” She took a bite of her chicken and apple peel link sausage. The Land of Health Food Freaks. She’d forgotten how crazy they were.
“Morningstar Farms?”
She nodded.
“Oh, well that’s okay then,” and he promptly ate the bacon from off his shirt. Ava couldn’t help laughing at him. He winked, “I knew you still worshipped me.”
She smirked, showing dimple. “Like you don’t still kiss the quicksand I walk on?”
“Never said I didn’t.”
“Glad that’s settled.”
“Yup.” It was funny how they were somehow back to before everything got weird. It was like she’d never left. He realized he was getting wistful and tried to stop it. Problem was, he looked into her eyes and then she was looking wistful too.
“A lot’s changed,” she murmured softly, twirling her forking between two fingers.
“Yeah,” he nodded, his divorced had been final for ages. He’d gotten endorphin happy and discovered the gym. He’d gone through three therapists and a guru and still couldn’t get her out of his head. “You decided you liked punk.”
“I decided I am punk. Pay attention.” She shook her head. “Did you know Cherrie Lovedog had her own one woman show off Broadway? I dragged the band to it for like five days in a row. She signed my Strat that last day. It was pretty sweet.”
He laughed out loud. “You are such a freak.”
Ava blew a raspberry at him, “And you love it.”
“Yeah I do,” said it so heated that she squirmed. That wistful look was back in her eyes again. She put her hand over his on the table.
“There’s been so much-,” she broke off and shook her head. He flipped his hand over, so that while she was stroking his skin, he could touch her back. Ava’s eyes were shining. He knew that look. She was going to cry in a minute. He sortof wanted to get teary too. You know, if that was something Punk Gods were allowed to do. It was so weird that all of a sudden he was mainstream and scores of sixteen year old were throwing themselves at him. Ironic too, since he’d only ever in his life been attracted to one sixteen year old and she wasn’t sixteen anymore and was sitting right in front of him.
“Ava?”
“Yeah?” She wiped her eyes self consciously even though they were dry.
“Let’s get out of here.” He dipped his head, “Anywhere you want to go.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Where do you want me to take you?” They were talking softly. So intimate they could have been in bed. Ava must have realized it too because that blush was back on her cheeks. She looked at him sidelong.
“Did you drive over here in the Boulevard car?” It was sortof common knowledge that he’d claimed the 1968 blue-green Mercury Monterrey from the video. Drove it everywhere. Call it romanticism or showing off or whatever, but he kept it. Mike didn’t say anything about it, but Tre didn’t let up. Said it was because Billie was jealous of Ava’s car from back in the day and wanted to show his balls were bigger. Hell, he was probably right.
He felt his ears get hot. “Yeah, why?”
“You know that car’s not exactly inconspicuous.” She sounded amused.
“I didn’t know we were keeping a low profile, kid.”
Ava bit her lip. “We’re not, I just… I don’t know.” She shot him a long, long, volume-speaking look, “How much of that album was about me?”
“Presumptuous, aren’t we?” Ava had the good grace to look embarrassed and he grinned, pulling her chair out for her. When she was standing, so close to him that their noses were practically touching and he didn’t have to worry a good-God-damn about who was watching because she was finally, finally, of age, he licked her nose. Quick, like a cat. Then shrugged, “I’ll never tell.”
She laughed out loud, wiping her nose in a circular motion with the palm of her hand.
“So where to?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Her hand was in and out of his jacket pocket faster than he cared to think about. “Because I’m driving.”
“Ava!” But she was already practically skipping out of the restaurant. He laughed, tossing a few bills on the table and winking at the little old lady at the table next to him that was staring at him like he was crazy. When in Rome, or in this case, the Hilton… he took off skipping after her.
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Suicide Blonde