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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
- 5
- 6
- 7
Title: Suicide Blonde Chapter Something-I-Lost-Count
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I don’t’ own anybody.
Notes: Again, sorry chapters are taking so long. This chapter is sortof a limited edition because I’m not sure how I feel about it. Read it whilst you can because there is a distinct possibility that sometime next week I might take it down and completely change it. Review pretty please and let me know what you think. Xox
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“Why are you so…” Liza fished for the word and Alex laughed, tipping the whiskey bottle toward her.
“Dashing?” “Devoted.” She shot him a look. “To her, I mean.” They never said Ava’s name. Not after that first night. It seemed dirty somehow.
“Does it matter?” He took a long plug on the bottle.
“To me,” she looked at him harder. “Ya’ll two have the weirdest relationship I’ve ever seen. My roommate says I should say fuck you, you know. She says that girls like that one are Bermuda Triangles for men.”
“And she’d know?”
“She’s a shrink.”
“Your roommate’s a shrink,” Alex gave Liza a long look that clearly said he didn’t believe any therapist worth their salt would live in a third floor walk-up that was obviously a university dive. Not that he should say anything, really, in Boston he was living out of his van toward the end.
“Yup. She’ll show you her cred’s if you want, Caroline really gets off on that shit.”
“I’ll bet.”
“Seriously though.” She traced a line down his chest, circling the Ramone’s logo on his tee shirt.
“Devoted, right…” Alex shrugged. “Do I need reason?” At Liza’s death-glare he sighed, “Okay, so I was a med student.”
“Say what?” Liza sat up straighter on the park bench. “Seriously?”
“Yup, seriously.” He rolled his eyes, “My dad was this hotshot trauma surgeon and in my family there’s traditions and stuff. I was at Harvard Med School. Second year.”
“So what happened?” Liza was getting the distinct impression that Ava was somehow responsible for Alex’s dropping out and she really didn’t care that it was written all over her face. She was seriously starting to not like that girl.
“I was dating this girl… Sarah. She was Ava’s roommate. Sarah was…” He took a second to remember. What could you say about Sarah Pennick? She was a southern belle with a serious superiority complex that, by his parents’ standards, was perfect for Alexander Clinton LaMott III? He caught Liza’s look and shrugged, “Sarah was interesting. Anyway, she and Ava didn’t get along.”
Understatement. Sarah would have gotten a voodoo preistess woman to hex Ava’s nail polish if she could get away with it.
“And you thought Ava was a sweetheart?”
“Actually, no, I thought she had serious issues and needed therapy. That whole first semester she was seriously fucked up. Depressed. She had more clothes than you’d ever seen in one place, but she wore the same pair of blue jeans and band tee shirt for four months straight. I’m not even sure she changed underwear.”
Liza wrinkled her nose. “That is the grossest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Tell me about it. No matter how much potpourri Sarah put out that room smelled like-“
“So you were a med student. I’m betting your parents are loaded. You were dating this girl who liked potpourri and Ava fucking Monroe—Little Miss Joan Jett in Training—was a basket case.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“No, just wondering if I’m missing anything in bizzarro land. Where apparently you’re king.” She ducked her head toward him, easily dodging the Frisbee that went whizzing past her head. The college kid who threw it grinned at her as he jogged past to retrieve it. Alex arched an eyebrow, few years ago he’d have tried to get a girl’s attention that way too.
“Well it’s true.”
“So what happened?”
“Sarah and I came back to the dorm-room and Ava was passed out in the floor.”
“And that’s a big deal?” Liza jigged a cigarette out of the pack and nonchalantly lit it, arching an eyebrow and mentally going over how she was going to relay this to Caroline.
Alex rolled his eyes. “It was to Sarah. See, we were supposed to have every Tuesday to ourselves,” he blushed and Liza laughed outright. “Anyway, she starts yelling at Ava to go off to the weekly meeting of her coven or whatever and Ava doesn’t move. So then she starts shaking her and then she noticed the pill bottle.”
“Pills?”
“Yeah, OxyContin. Her dad’s doctor gave it to her for a,” he laughed, rolled his eyes, “knee injury or something. She’d taken about twenty. Did it the right way too.”
“There’s a right way?”
“Over a period of time. She started about two hours before, popped a few pills every fifteen minutes or so.” Alex shook his head, remembering. She’d looked so… defeated. So empty. Like whatever had been Ava, or what had been passing for Ava, had taken a walk. It still scared the shit out of him.
“So you saved her?”
He laughed, “I guess you could say that.”
Liza bit her thumbnail, “Well, it does sound pretty damn lucky that her roommate’s boyfriend was a med student, what with her taking lethal doses of prescription meds and all.”
“No it wasn’t.” He got up, shaking himself off like there was something particularly distasteful about the entire conversation. He started to pace. “She’d have been fine. Or, well, she’d have been fine if all Sarah did was call 911. OxyContin’s not lethal that way. Or, it shouldn’t be. See, it depresses the nervous system, that’s why it’s a painkiller. But on its own, it’ll just seriously, seriously relax you. People who overdose on the stuff usually overdose because they take it with alcohol or something. Not that I didn’t pump her stomach, because I did.” He trailed off, staring at something on some tree that only he could see. Liza sighed as quietly as she could, fighting not to prod him.
Finally she couldn’t take the suspense anymore, “And…?”
“We walked in, Sarah started screaming, I checked her vitals to see if she was… well, you know. Smacked her face a few times to see if I could wake her. I told Sarah to call an ambulance and hauled Ava down the hall to the shower.”
“That actually works?”
“What? The water? Yeah. Shocks the system awake, she was beyond groggy. I made her throw up. She kept throwing up until the EMT guys got there.” Alex flagged down a guy on an icecream bike and bought two Klondike bars. Liza bit into hers, not really tasting it.
“So… you saved her.”
“You could say that.”
“I just did. Twice,” She unwrapped the rest of the bar and tossed it to a golden retriever that was tied to a tree. “Look, Alex, there’s like so much to this story that you’re not telling me. And I don’t care. But let me just make sure I’ve got the facts straight. You and your girlfriend come back to the room. Your lead singer’s passed out from a drug overdose in the floor. You use medical training you’re so not supposed to be using yet to save her ass and somewhere along the way decide that you’ve got to be her babysitter. Am I right?”
He shrugged, “Sounds like bad writing, doesn’t it?”
“Only if it’s because you don’t have a real plot. If it really happened that way then it totally works.”
“Well I’m not telling you a lot.”
“I figured.”
“But long story short, I got in trouble, she and I got tight, and here I am.”
“And she’s off with some other guy that you hate on principle.”
“That’s about it, yeah.”
“Okay,” Liza stood up, leaning over and tweaking his nose, “Let’s do something fun.”
“Like…?”
“Matching tattoos?”
He laughed, “Yeah, cause that’s never been done.”
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“You two are so fucking weird.” Tre leaned back on the couch, tipping his beer back and enjoying seeing Ava so happy.
“What? I liked the tattoo idea.” She jerked her head at Billie, “He’s the freak.”
“Yeah, right, kid.” Billie touched the bandage on his wrist gingerly.
“What’d you get again?” Tre helped himself to another one of the crab Rangoon pieces. If this Chinese place ever closed, Billie’d starve.
“The comedy and tragedy masks. Very stylized.” Ava peeled her bandage off, flashing the new ink at him. It still had that oozey, wet look that was just vaguely gross. Tre arched an eyebrow, at her.
“You don’t think it’s kinda… I don’t know, weird that you’ve got the tragedy mask on your arm? And in… what color is that, purple?”
“Purple is the color of royalty, thank you. And I plan on being rock royalty, so it works.”
Tre snorted his beer out of both nostrils. “Jesus, you’re a freak.” He wiped his face with a paper napkin and jerked his head at Billie. “Okay, so let’s see yours.”
“You’re worse than a woman, man.” But he dutifully peeled back the bandage. Very stylized comedy mask. Iconic, really. “Don’t look at me like that, man, it’s been five years, my tolerance is low.”
“Your tolerance to what?” he laughed outright, “Her intellect?” Wait a minute, five years? His spidey sense went off and he mouthed the word five at Ava while Billie was going for the lo mein. Shouldn’t it have been six? Ava shook her head vigorously at him, then abruptly switched gears.
“Do you think I should shave my head again?”
“Huh.” Tre shook his head. “Okay, so you lost me. Why the masks?”
Billie shrugged. They shared a long look. Then pointed the look at Ava. She stared back, grinning. After a full beat her facial expression went blank, like it’d been shut off. “Everybody wears masks, guys.” She lifted a shoulder, forcing a smile that was somehow more disturbing than it should have been, “We’re just more honest about it than most people, right Billie?”
She said like he could ever forget.
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“Jesus, what are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you, was that so bad?” Billie’s eyes raked around the dorm room. It wasn’t really what he would have expected. Actually, she wasn’t what he was expecting. “Ava when was the last time you washed that shirt?”
She shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny. “Stuff’s been going on.”
“Like your inability to shower?” He sat down on her desk chair and reached for her guitar. “When was the last time you actually played this, kid?” The strings felt grimy and there was dust on the sounding board.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She gave him a really long look. “What are you doing here, really?”
Billie shifted uncomfortably. “Your dad’s been worried about you,” he played a chord, the guitar was so out of tune it sounded like it was about to speak Russian.
“And you just flew out here because of that?”
“No,” he reached for her hand, “I’ve missed you, kid.”
She sighed, looking defeated, “Me too.”
He ducked his head, forcing her to catch his eyes, “What’s with the Ruby Gloom look?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Your dad’s waiting to hear that you’ve joined a cult, Ava. Why’ve you been so depressed?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Ava-“
“I don’t’ want to talk about it, okay?!”
He sighed, setting the guitar aside. “Where’s your underwear drawer.”
“Excuse me?”
He shot her a look. Ava sighed, pointing. Billie rooted around in it and came up with a few garments. “Come on.”
“Why?”
“Because you stink. And I miss you. I figure kill two birds with one stone and we’ll christen the community shower down the hall.”
“You’re kidding right?” Ava glared at him. “You travel three thousand miles to take a shower with me.”
“Well I’m not opposed to doing a bit more, but not until you look like a person again.” He traced her face with the palm of his hand, this was so not the Ava he knew. “And after we’ve talked about whatever’s going on with you.”
She made a noise that wasn’t very nice, jerked the underwear and bra out of his hand and pushed past him. “Wait here. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She grabbed her shower shoes, towel, and Sarah’s basket full of expensive boutique shampoo and conditioner on her way out. No way in hell was Ava going to admit to Billie that since she’d been here she’d been washing her hair with Dove soap because she was too lazy to buy real hair care supplies.
Aviva Elizabeth Monroe would deny it like hell later, but after months of living like a street person, actually taking the time to shave her legs and wash her hair with really good stuff was almost better than sex.
When she got back to the dorm room, Billie had restrung her guitar and was playing an easy melody. He gave her scantily clad body an obvious once over and grinned in appreciation. “You look hot.”
“Fuck off. Did I tell you to do that?”
“Would it kill you not to be a bitch for like, I don’t know, five seconds?”
She very deliberately didn’t look at him while she slathered lotion on her legs. “What’re you gonna do, spank me?”
“Don’t see why not, you enjoyed it the last time I did that.”
Ava colored to the roots of her hair. Score one for the man, Billie thought with a smirk.
“Yeah, well, you had a back bone then,” she muttered angrily.
“Excuse me?” He was across the room like a shot, jerking her upright. “Listen up, kid, talk shit to me all you want, but you got beef with me you damn well better tell me what I did!”
She grabbed his forearm, “Let me go!”
“Not on your life,” he shook her for good measure. “Spill.”
She scratched a long, bloody furrow down his arm. Billie released her, hissing in consternation.
“You crazy bitch,” he muttered, “The hell was that for?!”
She slapped him as hard as she could. “Because I hate you, you lying bastard.”
He went absolutely still. “If you do that again-“
“You’ll what?!” She pulled back like she would slap him again and he grabbed her. They grappled angrily until she was against the wall. She was still fighting him but he was winning now. Ava knew it. But damned if she’d admit it. She shook her head, tears gathering, “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!”
“What’re you, three?” She could smell the jolly rancher on his breath. Billie’s nose was touching hers. “What in the blue hell is going on with you?!”
She shoved him as hard as she could, “Cara told me, Billie!” She took him by surprise, she must have, because he released her. She sighed, “Cara told me.”
“She told you what exactly?” The scratches on his forearm were starting to sting. He’d kill Cara the next time he saw her. Whatever she told Ava… his gaze flitted around the room. Ava’s side was like a bird’s nest. Or a den. This had to be clinical.
“Are you really going to stand there and tell me that you didn’t fuck her two weeks after I left?”
“She told you that.” He’d fucking kill her.
“Deny it,” Ava’s tone dared him. Her eyes pleaded with him. When he didn’t say anything she lifted her chin, “Cara’s never lied to me, Billie,” she threatened loftily.
He closed his eyes, “I know, she told me.”
Ava’s entire body went concave for a split second, like he’d dealt her a physical blow. “…Why?” She bit out, finally, when she trusted her voice.
He laughed shortly, wiping a hand over his face, “I was drunk.” Those had to be the worst three words in the English language. Nothing else was a better excuse and nothing else had the potential to hurt so much.
“That’s your excuse?!”
“No.” But that was what happened. He’d been so wasted he hadn’t really thought he could get it up at all. Then when he could… he’d been to far gone. Period. “It never would have happened if I’d been sober.”
“You sonofabitch.”
“Yeah.”
“Tell me why.” When he opened his mouth she back handed him, “Don’t you dare tell me it was because you were drunk and if you fucking say it was because you missed me, I swear to Christ, Billie-“
“It was stupid. And there wasn’t a reason. She dumped that kid she was seeing. She showed up at my place. She was high so I let her in. I… fuck Ava, I don’t know. She wanted to start drinking and all of a sudden we were going shot for shot.”
“So you expect me to believe that Cara drank you under the table and then seduced you.”
“No! I expect you to believe that we got fucking smashed one night and did something that we shouldn’t have done!” He gave her a long, long look, “Because you don’t have any idea what that’s like, do you.”
“So you were just getting back at me? That’s not fair,” she murmured softly.
“ Ava-“
“She was my best friend, Billie!”
“Was?” He cocked an eyebrow. Honestly he’d woken up the next morning with a helluva hangover and that coyote ugly feeling you get in your gut when you’re seriously disgusted with yourself. He’d basically left a boot print in Cara’s ass. Hell, maybe that was why she told Ava. Or maybe Tre’s first assessment of her was right and she was just a vindictive bitch. Billie still hadn’t forgotten how he’d had to fight off Cara’s advances the night of Ava’s indiscretion. And he positively refused to believe that the crazy bitch had been harboring feelings for him.
She shot him a look. “D’you really think I’d want anything to do with her after she seduced my boyfriend?”
“Boyfriend?” He shied back from her when she advanced on him. He wasn’t sure he trusted her when she slid her arms around his neck.
“Yeah,” she sighed against his neck, “I’ve missed you, Billie.”
He furrowed his brow. He was sorta scared at how her mind was changing channels. He put tentative arms around her body, “Me too?”
“Just kiss me, okay?”
“I really am sorry, kid…”

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His side of the bed went cold not seconds after he left. Ava turned on her side, wrapping her arms around herself. It felt like he’d never really been there at all. Her best fucking friend!
Her best friend.
He said he was sorry. And she believed him.
It was still her best friend.
She loved him so much it scared her. She’d forgive him anything.
Cara had been her best friend. She could have had anybody else.
Ava started pulling on clothes mechanically.
Billie and her best friend.
Could she ever trust him again? Could she afford not to?
Billie and Cara. And he admitted it.
Why couldn’t she get angry about it?
Because Billie was Billie and Cara was Cara and why shouldn’t they get together when Ava’d essentially ran away to school to get away from everything going on in California?
She knew she shouldn’t be taking as many pills as she was. But why wouldn’t they work?
They were supposed to make the pain stop.
- 5
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Suicide Blonde