Chapter Text
The stinging coming from the hand wrapped around the microphone comes so suddenly it nearly throws him off his next line. The jab to his chest knocks the breath out of him and he’s forced to pause. Lyrics and his voice floating away from him like smoke on the wind. His metronome sounds like it’s lost in mud and everything is just fog. Pain is the only thing that is clear.
Mike notices first. He hears the way Billie’s voice just trails and he glances over, expecting to see that Billie is just distracted by something. Seeing his friend pale and frozen caused him to immediately stop playing and run to him.
Through the fog and the pain, Billie felt warm, safe, arms wrap around him. Pulling him backwards to the raised platform where the drums are set up. Soon he was aware he was sitting and the fog was starting to lift. There was Mike’s face crinkled in worry. “Billie? Billie can you hear me” he slowly came to realise Mike was asking. A pressure being removed from the inside of his ears made everything slightly clearer but not much.
“Billie are you okay man?” Tré’s voice came from behind him and to the left. By now the pain had faded and the fog had lifted, replaced by the hum of a worried and confused crowd talking amongst themselves.
Tré’s jaw clenched, he had been given a front row seat to the whole thing. Sometimes he loved his elevated position on stage as it enabled him to see everything, but it also meant he had to sit and watch on when things went wrong. Like when Billie just froze.
“Uh yeah, just… y’know…” Billie stumbled on his words, trying to scramble to an explanation. He got up, eager to continue with the show. “Shall we pick up from the chorus? Yeah I think so” he glanced over at Mike and Tré who were reluctantly picking up their instruments unsure if jumping back in was a good idea. “C’mon guys, chop chop” his tone was playful, trying to dispel the worry from his bandmate’s faces with humour.
~~in the green room~~
At the end of the set, Bille walked into the green room and flopped onto the couch bracing himself for
the questions.
“What the hell was that man” Tré was the first, storming in.
“You tell me man” Billie responded “it was like… it was like it was all happening again … I dunno man it sounds dumb” he stumbles, trying to explain himself but painfully aware of how it sounds. “I felt everything again…” he continued.
Tré’s expression softened and he sat next to his friend.
“Sounds like you had a flashback man” he places his hand on Billie’s shoulder, squeezing it in a supportive gesture.
“Nah man, only people who have been to war or some shit have those” scoffed Billie “like sure, I nearly died but… I dunno it’s different man” the sentence and logic kinda ran away from him.
“Sure man” was Tré’s response, clearly not believing the man beside him, “whatever you say”.
Both looked up as Mike walked in, flanked by the paramedic.
“I brought Iain to give you a once over man, you scared me to death out there” he cautiously spoke, knowing Billie strongly disliked a fuss. Iain waved awkwardly. Accepting that it wont be dropped easily, Billie just sighed and straightened up, letting Iain do his work. After a couple tense moments the paramedic finally spoke.
“Everything looks good, physically you’re healthy dude” he reported to a room full of relieved faces.
“Great, thanks man, you can go now” Billie waved a hand dismissively as he spoke. “We can deal with the rest”.
Knowing theres no point arguing Iain just nodded and walked off, back to the medic room of the venue to pack up his kit.
“Wanna talk about it?” Mike asked as he sat on the other side of their lead singer.
“Jesus, guys c’mon, you’re milking it now.” Billie’s tone was defensive “I already told Tré about it man, I’m not repeating myself just because you came in late y’know”.
“I think he had a flashback” Tré interjected.
“Ugh not this again!” Billie whined, “thats not what it was! I swear!’ He added, getting more and more desperate to drop this idea. Shrugging the supportive hand off his shoulder and leaning back on the couch.
“Woah man, chill out a bit we're just trying to figure this out” cooed the drummer, trying to calm down the situation. “Okay, we’ll drop it for now” he shot a glance at Mike in a semi warning gesture.
“For now” Billie emphasised those words, his frustration only growing at the implication of them. “How about you drop it for good huh?” His voice was starting to raise, much to the discomfort of the others. “Why do you have to label everything? Huh? Whatever, I’m going home” and with that Billie stormed out.
The cool night air hit him like a brisk slap to the face, succeeding in cooling his heated head.
Enough for him to realise driving in such a state was not a good Idea. After getting to his car, Billie look a deep breath. Holding It as he got In.
Vintage leather creaked softly as he sat down and the sound was like a calming balm to his soul. He let out his breath slowly, a runnins his hand der the dashboard. Taking in every detail, letting the Surroundings calm him.
Once he was sure he was level headed enough to face the chaos of the American road system, he started the engine. Turning up the radio and pulling out of the Parking lot. Silenty making a promise he would try to make it home safe despite his feelings and what had happened, He knew he owed it to those closet to him.
~~meanwhile~~
The two band members left in the room shared a collective sigh, their eyes drifting to the guitar sitting proudly on its stand. Blue, Billie’s favourite guitar, sat with an air of importance despite being crusted with blood that was days old. Their minds drifted back to the beginning of the night....