Remembering Billie

The Next Day. [Billie's P.O.V.]

The slamming of a door jolts me awake. I sit up in bed and listen to the raised voices of my parents with anxiety flooding through me. "We can't keep letting her get away with this!" My father's voice is thick with bitterness and ice. "But she hasn't done anything wrong!" My mother argues, her voice strong and firm without any harshness. She's pretty good at arguing, and usually always wins the battles between anyone. "But she has!" His voice is angry, but whiny like a child. He knows he won't win the fight, but I also know that he's too stubborn to give up that easily anyways. "And what exactly would that be?" Her voice is cold, and gratitude covers me like a fuzzy blanket for her protection, for her being on my side. "She ran away when we told her the truth, she got angry and bitchy and ran from us and then came back with an attitude-" He's broken off by the crash of dishes in the sink. "But the thing is, Billie knew the truth before we told her. She was upset because we didn't tell her sooner. She ran because you got angry at her natural reaction. She was experiencing grief, she thought we didn't trust her enough to tell her. And when she got angry she only wanted you to show her you still love her, you trust her. But YOU became angry instead. You CHASED her away, she didn't run away!" The sharp hiss of my mother's words make me shiver. 

"It's time to get up, Billie!" I jump in surprise and scramble out of bed in a hurry. I hear the exasperated sigh of frustration by my father. He's given up. I get ready for school and wonder about how long they'd been arguing before I woke up. I don't like knowing that whilst I'm sound asleep, they're arguing over if I'm good or bad, if I did something wrong or not. In a pissed of mood, I walk to the kitchen to get some breakfast. Dad looks up at my entrance and scowls. I smile at him and butter some toast. "Anything happening at school today, Billie?" It's mum who comes to my aid. "Yeah." I reply, glad she's here. "Hm?" Her eyebrows raise in interest and I note how lucky I am that I have a mother who actually listens to me. I know how much Abigail aches for something like this. "Abi and I met a new girl who plays the drums. Mr Bancroft is getting her to audition today." She nods, "A new friend?" I nod back to her, "Yeah, Charleigh's pretty nice, even if we met in the weirdest of circumstances." She laughs, "That's how the best of friendships are made. You should know that." I shrug my shoulders and grin back; remembering how Abi and I met. She ruffles my hair and lands a kiss on my forehead, "Now off you go. Have a good day at school, and I wish Charleigh the best of luck, sweets!" I give her a hug before throwing my bag into Chang's backseat and driving to school.

"Classic Sense after school, Bills?" Abigail asks me through a mouthful of coleslaw. "Mhm" I answer, flicking a glance at Charleigh. Abi unfortunately doesn't catch on, and erupts into a conversation about our radio station. Charleigh perks up and looks at us with wonder in her eyes. "You guys are Classic Sense?!" We nod, not knowing what she thinks. Her face lifts into a wide smile, "Holy frick! I love that station! And my friends from back in Chicago do too!" We smile at her, and before I can think it through, I say "Well, do you want to join us?" She shrieks in joy, jumping out of her chair. She opens her mouth, and fear creeps through me, but Abi saves the day. "You'd keep it confidential of course." Charleigh shuts her mouth and sits back down, clearly embarrassed. "Oh, of course. Sorry." "Anyways," says Abi, "We'll start that new game!" I nod my head enthusiastically, filling Charleigh in on the details.

At 3pm, we meet at the band room, Charleigh shaking with nerves. Mr Bancroft welcomes us into the room, and we spend a good ten minutes setting up our gear and warming up. "Warm up, Charleigh." Mr Bancroft encourages her. She takes a deep breath, and counts a whispering "1...2...1, 2, 3, 4!" Under her breath before breaking into a teeth shattering replica of Beast and the Harlot by Avenged Sevenfold. Mr Bancroft's eyes widen and motions at us to join in, and although the hardcore rock song wasn't meant for an orchestra, we work it into the song. Slowly, we all begin to smile, Charleigh and Mr Bancroft too. By the end of it, we're all flushed and happy and laughing with each other. Mr Bancroft nods at Charleigh, "You're in." He smiles, and we smile back, rushing to each other for a hug. 

I'm about to leave band, when Mr Bancroft motions me over to him. I walk over, smiling and thank him for giving Charleigh a chance. He smiles at me. "I have an opportunity for you, Billie" My smile softens into a neutral expression. "Yeah?" "It's a Music Scholarship. For classical musicians that want a future career, and I've put your name down for it." I smile at him, "There's a long admission process, and you need to fill out a fair bit of paperwork and go through a system of playing pieces of music they send, and small projects..." He stops briefly, "It's a lot of work, but worth it. Hollywood recommends this school." I tell him I'll think about it, before saying thank you again for letting Charleigh try out, and head home, my nerves buzzing with excitement.

"No, no No!" Abi growls at Charleigh who's juggling a microphone. "Christ!" Charleigh mutters, Where do I put it then?!" Abi mutters under her breath, words of which I decide not to listen to. "Over there." I tilt my head in the direction of a cleared space on the desk. Charleigh throws me a grateful look, places the mic down and connects the wires up. "She gets a bit stressed every time we go on air." I whisper to her. She smiles, understanding, and whispers back, "Yeah, you guys do have a large numbers of followers so that's understandable."

"WELCOME BACK EVERYONE, TO... CLASSIC SENSE! YOUR FIRST AND FOREMOST CHOICE OF SOPHISTICATED MUSIC WITH A HINT OF DRAMA, GOSSIP, NEWS AND WHATEVER ELSE!" Abi's shrill voice speaks into the mic, I take this as my cue to play the intro music; a series of un tuned Violin and Trumpet notes. I note in my head that we'll have to get some of Charleigh and her drums. But now, its my turn to speak. "Hey guys! Your favourite Violinist here, and today we're gonna play a new game called The Ringtone Game!!!" Charleigh hits play on the couple second mix of music we found that relates to our title. I realize we haven't introduced Charleigh yet so say in a hurried voice, "But before we get onto that, let's take a quick ad break!" Abi shoots me a death look, but plays the ads and moves away from the desk. "What was that?" She glares at me. "We need to introduce Charleigh." I say, matter of factly. "Oh, right!" Her eyes widen in horror. Our few minutes are gone, so we head back to our desks and Abi says into the mic, "We have a new recruit with us, and she's a drummer! Charleigh will be joining us from now on, so I think we'll cut the game for today and interview her instead." "Good idea Abs!" I back her up, "So," I say quizzically into the mic, and motioning for Charleigh to talk into the mic, "When did you first start playing the drums?" I already know the answer, but our listeners don't so I guess I have to pretend. Charleigh, a natural, speaks into the mic with a bubbly voice, "Oh about six years ago!" She smiles at us, her bright eyes twinkling. It's Abi's turn now, "What inspired you to play the drums?" I don't know the answer to this one, and listen intently. "My father was a drummer in a rock band, The Great Memoirs of Anguish, he was awesome, my role model and he taught me all that I know." Charleigh's voice sounds really good, until she says with a crack in her voice, "But my father, he died a year ago of brain cancer." We frown, and Abi reaches over to end the recording but Charleigh stops her, "What else do ya want to know?" She says with a bright smile. We smile back, we'll comfort her later, she wants to keep going, so we do. We trust her, and I hope, that she trusts us too.