~No One Knows~ A Green Day Story

•Chapter Six•

Crammed in the tiny bathroom, I wince as I let warm water run on my hands to clear some of the dirt and blood. 

Mike stands by the toilet, his shirt sleeve pulled up to exposed a bloody elbow that he wipes with a damp rag.

Knowing that I had caused his injuries, I feel obligated to apologize, but I never did, afraid of him portraying me as soft. This tour wasn't going to change me like everyone thought it was going to. They thought putting me on this tour with them was gonna make me want to be a better person. To stop snorting cocaine and smoking weed and getting myself in jail and going bar hopping and selling my body. 

So maybe I could live my life without being in jail. Maybe it was true that I didn't want to go back to jail, and it was. And it was true that I didn't like sleeping with people I didn't know. But as everyone knows, drugs are addicting, and some people will do just about anything to get them. 

I'm one of those people.

I had my first cigarette when I was fifteen and I thought I was all bad. I smoked the whole pack and got sick the next day. Then I met a group of friends who smoked weed and snorted cocaine. I remember back to all the fights we had over the drugs. One guy threatened to kill me and put a gun to my head. That was my first time ever coming clean. But the urge won over and I'm stuck back in the same rut I had been in before.

And now the withdrawal is terrible. The guys won't even smoke around me. Cigarettes, weed, nothing. I can't even smell the things that used to make me feel so alive and then make me feel like shit afterwards. Now I never get the alive feeling. Now it's just shit all the time. The cravings are terrible. It's like putting alcohol in front of an alcoholic and telling them not to drink it. Or just telling them that the alcohol is around somewhere and they're telling you not to look for it. It's almost humiliating. I shake all the time and I never know what to do with my days. I get lightheaded and look like a toddler trying to walk. 

"What's the matter? Are you thinking up a lie to tell me?" Mike's words were true, but they stung anyways.

"I don't have to tell you anything. I don't like to be alone, okay. So what? There are lots of people that don't like to be alone and I'm one of them. I just need to know that you're with me" He raises an eyebrow and pulls his sleeve down, throwing the bloody rag into the sink by my hands.

"And I thought you didn't need a bodyguard" Sighing, I send him a glare and scowl at the way the corners of his lips turn up, trying to fight a smile.

"I don't. I just need your company. Not even your company really, just anyone's company. But Tre hasn't said a word to me, and me and Billie want each other dead. Who do I have left other than you?" He shrugs and I take my hands out of the water, letting him put band aids on my scratched up palms. 

"No one, I suppose. Maybe we should've brought one of your friends along" I shake my head, walking towards the door.

"I don't think you'd like my friends very well" He gives a crooked smile.

"Why not?" The look I sent to him was enough to convince him to stop talking. For now at least.

"How about you give me your life story instead of the other way around? I'm sure you've heard everything about me. In fact, I know you have. Sit me down and tell me about your most memorable life experiences" I was being sarcastic which is why I never expected to be motioned with him to the "song room". The place where the guys hung out and did there own thing late at night. Laughing and goofing off and talking about me behind my back. 

I never thought I'd be interested to hear about someone else's problems other than mine. I'm aware that I'm a self centered bitch and the world would take me that way. I was never gonna change. I had already dug myself too deep. And if somehow it were to happen, then that would be a miracle.

Fun fact: I don't believe in them. 

LITTLE BIT OF A SHORTER CHAPTER. THANKS nalabuckeye FOR HELPING ME WITH SOME BITS AND PIECES.