Categories > Celebrities > Green Day > See You Tonight

Too Much Too Soon

by abbeyrose92 0 reviews

Things heat up between Abbey and Tré only to be hindered by both of their pasts.

Category: Green Day - Rating: R - Genres: Angst,Drama,Romance - Published: 2013-04-17 - 4041 words

That Saturday, Abbey woke to the sound of Tré snoring down the hall and grinned. Shortly after the first kiss, Tré had had to leave to drop Frankito at Claudia’s for the weekend and for the rest of the day, they had struggled to distract themselves from each other. Eventually, they had resigned to taking a drive to Crown Beach but the scenery only made the whole ordeal worse. As the waves crashed down on the beach and the sunset streaked across the skyline, they had given up and she was in his drum-strengthened arms, again. Now, Abbey stretched and shoved from under the blankets. She padded from the room and down the hall. She came to stand in the threshold of Tré’s open door.
He lay hugging his pillow to his chest, his auburn hair sticking out in every direction. She smiled down on him with admiration. She tentatively stepped inside the cluttered room and to his side. He smirked in his sleep and Abbey wondered what he was dreaming about. Slowly, she leaned over, lightly touched his stubbly cheek and shivered with indulgence. Gradually, he opened his blue eyes and smiled up at her. He turned his head and delicately kissed her palm. Her cheeks flamed as she took her hand away and sat on the edge of the bed beside him. He sat up on his elbow and looked her over.
Her brown, curly hair was messy and yesterday’s eyeliner was smudged under her eyes. She tried to shy away and look down but he caught her chin gently and pulled her down to kiss her lips. She felt light headed as she wrapped her arms around his neck. With that, his muscular arms pulled her against him. Her skin tingled at his every touch and the kiss deepened. They lie intertwined, then, her fingers tangled in his auburn hair. His fingers skirted the skin of her waist beneath her T-shirt and she melted against him, breaking away only to pull in a ragged breath.
As the moments went on, the more intensity grew between them. He pulled away for a moment to nuzzle her neck and she murmured with desire. Without thinking, Tré slipped his hand inside her shirt and unto Abbey’s marred back. His fingertips drifted over her disfigured skin and automatically, she froze. As he realized what he’d done, he pulled his hand from her shirt, too late. She pulled away from him, her green eyes wild with trepidation.
“I-I’m going to go, now,” She muttered, suddenly squirming from his grip. He grabbed her hand as she stood from his bed but she turned and gave him a pleading look and reluctantly, he let go. Tré sighed as she scurried from his room and down the stairs.
Once she was downstairs, she locked herself in the bathroom. She felt the dam breaking in her mind. She couldn’t keep it out, she couldn’t forget the face. She set her teeth to fight the urge to scream as her brain flooded with memories of cold steel to her skin, the smell of burning flesh as cigarettes seared her and the biting hoarseness from shrieking in pain. The name scorched in her thoughts. She shook with fury and ripped her shirt over her head.
She turned to examine her scars in the mirror. Her eyes widened in the terror she had so long put off, as she looked over her shoulder. Thick, harsh X’s covered her skin, each about 3 inches, all along her spine. Smaller, round mutilations dotted her back in no specific pattern. She dropped to sit on the floor, pulled her legs against her bare chest and wept into the knees of her pajama pants.
Tré knocked at the door, softly, then.
“I’ll be out in a minute,” Abbey whimpered tearfully. Outside the door, Tré stood with his blue eyes full of pain. He leaned his forehead against the door and helplessly listened Abbey’s sorrowful keening.
“Abbey, I didn’t mean to,” He began, his voice thick with emotion and sleep.
“Tré, it’s okay, it’s not your fault,” She reassured him between sobs, “I’m just freaking out a little.” He frowned and started from the hallway and back upstairs, knowing it was the only thing he could do, short from breaking the door down, but we’re not at that point yet.
A short while later, when Abbey’s sobs had dissolved to hiccups in her throat, she pulled her shirt back on and stood. She stared at herself in the mirror and what she saw was pitiful. Her green eyes were red and watery, her bottom lip trembling and swollen and her nose running. She felt disgusted with herself as she blew her nose. She knew she was screwing things up between her and Tré and she knew the whole reason she had come here was to escape. She turned on the sink and splashed cold water on her face, trying to clear her mind, yet the memories stuck fresh in her thoughts as if they had only just happened. Trembling, she pushed from the bathroom door. She made her way up to Tré’s room where he sat with his head in his hands. She felt ashamed as she looked down upon him. She had taken this beautiful, boisterous man and reduced him to this in just moments.
She knocked gently on the door frame and with that, he was on his feet. His blue eyes were haggard as he pulled her into his arms. It took all she had not to begin crying again but she fought it as he pressed his lips to her forehead.
“W-who made you this way?” Tré asked his voice reluctant as though he didn’t expect an answer. Anger coursed through her and she burrowed against him.
Against her will, she uttered, “His name… is Cameron.” His name burned on her tongue. Tré simply kissed her forehead and seemed to be glad to have a name to direct his hate towards.
“Who was he to you?” Tré asked with morbid curiosity. She looked into his eyes and grimaced.
“I can’t go into it, right now,” She told him, honestly, “Someday. I’m still breaking a little.”
For the next few hours, they lay downstairs on the leather couch, her head on his tattooed chest. Abbey thoughts were twisted and her emotions unpredictable. Tré was doing his best to coax a smile from her, which being himself wasn’t all that difficult. Outside, it drizzled lightly, the sound, after a while, pulling Abbey down into quiet thoughtfulness. She thought then of Autumn, how she had bravely saved her life and the phone number hanging on the fridge. Tré frowned then, a look unbefitting of him.
“Don’t,” She uttered, softly touching his prickly cheek.
He smirked at her touch, “Don’t what?”
“Don’t be serious,” She pleaded with him, “That’s not you.”
“Despite popular belief, I’m not a total jackass, all the time,” Tré told her with his eyebrow rose.
She giggled and poked the tip of his nose, “Most of the time.”
“Okay, most of the time,” He admitted with a grin before his face became stern, “but I can be serious.”
“I don’t like that,” Abbey told him somberly, “I don’t want you to change.”
“Abbey,” Tré said then, “I’m 42. I’m always changing.” She took his round face in her small hands, then and kissed his lips before jumping to her feet.
“Where are you going?” He inquired playfully pouty.
She skittered off to the kitchen and called back to him, “I’ve got to make a phone call.” She grabbed the house phone from its crib and dialed the number from the fridge. Autumn answered on the second ring and Abbey heard child-like laughter in the background.
“Autumn,” She began, “Can you teach me to defend myself?”
After a half an hour of mild argument, Autumn was on her way. Abbey ran upstairs and changed into a T-shirt and jeans. Tré sat up as she jogged down the stairs, her heart pounding in her chest. He held his hands up in a questioning gesture as she approached him.
“I’m going to go spend a little time with Autumn,” Abbey told him misleading her true intentions.
“I was going to take you with me to Jingletown, today,” Tré informed her scratching his auburn hair. Despite the nearly crippling anger inside her, her eyes widened.
“I-I could have her drop me off,” She suggested, attempting not to sound too eager. Tré smiled with satisfaction and gave her the address and a lingering kiss on the lips. A horn honked outside, sending Dooder running from Frankito’s room, barking. She reluctantly pulled away and turned to the door.
Outside, Autumn sat impatiently in her black truck, a look of unease on her heart-shaped face. Abbey hopped eagerly in the passenger seat, excitement coursing through her veins for various reasons. She was beginning to convince herself that if she could protect herself, then she could be braver for Tré, possibly even be able to live with the horror of her past. She turned to Autumn, who watched her with disquiet.
“So where are we going to do this?” Abbey asked with enthusiasm. Autumn scoffed.
“Easy, killer,” Autumn said shifting the truck into gear, “I’ve got to stop at my place and drop Alyx’s lunch off.” She gestured to a paper bag in between them. Abbey shrugged and leaned distractedly against the seat as they cruised down the streets.
Autumn’s apartment was quaint but beautiful. The two-story building itself was ancient, the wood work was extremely intricate. It seemed to Abbey like it had been here for hundreds of years as she observed the ornate windows, along the building.
“How do you afford this place?” Abbey asked with awe as the headed inside. Autumn looked uncomfortable for a moment.
“I-I got a little assistance from the state,” She admitted before quickly adding, “But mostly, I make decent tips at the coffee house.”
Abbey simply nodded, she knew Autumn didn’t like to accept help from others and didn’t intend to chastise her for doing so. They started upstairs and into a narrow hallway. Autumn smiled tentatively at Abbey and unlocked her door. As soon as they crossed the threshold a small blonde version of Autumn, launched into her arms. Autumn laughed and squeezed the child gently before sitting her back down. Abbey looked observantly as her location. The apartment was quite nice but not overly decadent. The wood floors were polished to a sparkle, most likely by Autumn’s hands. Her kitchen was small and homey, it made Abbey a little homesick.
A brunette man with a handsome yet serious face turned on the couch in the neat living room to face them as Autumn’s daughter clamored back over to the television. Abbey gaped as realization hit. She turned to look at Autumn who was turning pink under his gaze.
“Abbey,” Autumn told her sitting Alyx’s lunch on the counter, “I’d like you to meet Paul.” Paul stood then and began toward them. He thrust his hand forward and Abbey reluctantly shook it.
“You’ve put Autumn through a lot of worry,” He told her simply, his gray eyes practically staring into her soul. Abbey grimaced and stepped back.
“Paul!” Alyx shouted, jumping on his back, “I’m hungry!” The seriousness melted from his face then as he pulled her arms tighter around his neck.
He planted a kiss on Autumn’s cheek before taking off toward the walnut dining room table. Autumn smiled after him before grabbing Abbey’s wrist and pulling her to the back of the apartment. She threw open a painted white door.
The interior screamed Alyx. The walls were painted purple with blue butterflies. Dolls and toys overflowed from a chest in the corner. A fluffy white bed was backed against the wall. Abbey smiled bemusedly.
“You painted the walls of your apartment?” Abbey asked her with curiosity.
“It was this way when we moved in,” She divulged gleefully. Abbey followed quietly after her as she turned back towards the comfy kitchen, where Alyx munched on a green banana and Paul was spreading peanut butter on a piece of toast. Autumn placed a kiss on Alyx’s forehead only for her to giggle and smack her in the face with her banana peel. Abbey laughed heartily and Autumn gave her a withering look. As they started towards the door, Paul called Abbey’s name.
She turned with confusion. After what he’d said before, she was certain there was no friendship to be built, there.
“About what I said before,” He began as he placed the toast before Alyx, “I’d have never met her if it weren’t for you… So, thank you.” Abbey grew perplexed and simply nodded.
“I’ll see you, later,” Autumn said rushing with embarrassment and shoved Abbey through the door.
As they drove down the city streets Abbey flushed with guilt.
“You came here because of me?” She asked Autumn, her voice shrill to her own ears.
“That’s most of the reason,” She admitted, her eyes focused on the road ahead, “I knew, if you were anywhere… You were here.” Abbey blanched at the thought of her assumed demise.
“So,” Abbey changed the subject, “You and Paul Wesley, huh?” Autumn’s cheeks flamed at the mention of his name.
“We met at the park, I’m taking you to, actually,” She told Abbey with a smile.
“He and Alyx seem to get along,” Abbey observed.
“Paul loves Alyx,” Autumn told her with a lingering grin. They were silent for a while as Autumn cruised toward Bushrod Park.
“So, what’s up with you and Tré?” She inquired of Abbey then.
“I-it’s complicated,” Abbey uttered, chewing on her nails.
“So, have you guys…. You know?” Autumn interrogated casually.
Abbey’s eyes widened.
“Shut up!” She shouted playfully, as the pulled into the parking lot.
“I’ll take that as a no,” Autumn snickered as she shifted into park. Abbey merely blushed and pushed from the passenger seat. They started off toward the soccer field.
“So, you’re serious about this?” Autumn asked suddenly, stopping in the middle of the field, without warning. Abbey tripped over her foot and almost fell, before she corrected her footing.
“Totally serious,” She assured Autumn, awkwardly. Autumn assumed an offensive position.
She looked at Abbey soberly, “then there’s only one real way to go about this.” With that, she lunged at her.
A few hours later, as Autumn inputted the address of Jingletown Records into her phone for directions, Abbey lay against the passenger seat, panting. For the first 45 minutes there was virtually no improvement as Autumn pummeled her over and over. Autumn repeatedly attempted to show her defensive maneuvers, near fruitlessly. To both of their surprise as she grew tired, she more easily grasped Autumn’s movements and learned to pick up on her ques. Though Abbey sighed contentedly as she stared off at the treacherous yet bewitching metropolis surrounding them, Autumn was unsated.
“We’re going to have to do this a few times a week,” She huffed in frustration. Abbey frowned.
“I thought we had made progress,” Abbey said petulantly.
“Not enough,” Autumn retorted crossly, “not enough to save your life.”
Abbey frowned and glared down at her red, scraped hands. As they pulled into the parking lot of Jingletown, Abbey spotted Tré’s brown Houndstooth van parked near the door and she perked up right away. Inexplicably, she smiled over at Autumn.
“Thanks, call ya later,” Abbey shouted, pushing through the passenger door. Autumn shook her head incredulously. Abbey was already skipping to the door.
“That girl has issues,” Autumn chuckled as she pulled away.
Abbey skittered to a halt at the glass door. She didn’t know how to proceed and as she stared at her disheveled reflection, she began smoothing down her hair. Just then, Billie popped up inside the door, startling her. He laughed and pulled the door open.
“There’s our little Green Day expert,” He announced with a crooked grin. She blushed and smiled at him as he grabbed her elbow, gently.
“I need your opinion on something,” He told her, towing her inside.
She hardly had time to look around at her surroundings as he pulled her into a crowded, cluttered sound booth, filled with even more pristine soundboards and instruments than Tré’s practice room. He sat her down on a stool beside Mike, who was practicing an unfamiliar bass line and he closed the door. Tré smiled eagerly over at her from behind his drum set, a large pair of headphones over his ears and she had the urge to kiss him, there was just something about seeing him behind the drums that drove her crazy. Billie pulled his guitar, Blue from a stand and strung it over his shoulder. He looked at Abbey, then.
“This song is called ‘Green Eyed Monster,” He declared anxiously and as if given cue, Tré launched into a dreamy yet intricate beat, that reminded Abbey of the Foxboro Hot Tubs. Mike joined him, then, the unfamiliar bass line from before accompanying the pulse of the drums and fitting perfectly into place. Billie acquiesced with them with a sweet yet despondent measure. He began to sing into the microphone, his nasally voice reverberating through the speakers.
As she listened intently, she absorbed the lyrics as they came. He sang about his addictions, how his relationships had suffered and praying for the strength to change. He was the green eyed monster he sang about. As this realization dawned on her, tears of sorrow and pride slipped from her eyes. She smiled up at her tortured friend with appreciation. As the last notes of the song wound down, the three proficient men looked to her with appraisal.
“You’ve outdone yourselves,” She uttered, sweeping the moisture from her cheeks. The three smiled at each other with satisfaction. They commenced with yet another song, without a word. Abbey was so grateful to be there with them. It was 11:30 before she realized that she hadn’t moved in hours. By now, Billie was engrossed in his notebook again, a fulfilled look in his bright green eyes and an acoustic guitar strung over his shoulder. Mike and Tré had decided it would be a good idea to switch instruments, neither of them did especially well in the others’ place but Abbey found it quite entertaining. She stood on stiff legs and meandered over to Tré. He smiled up at her as he attempted the pluck the strings of Mike’s bass. She bowed over and kissed his perspiring forehead.
He stood and removed the bass from his lap and placed it in its stand. Abbey stared at him in bewilderment as his arms enclosed around her and he pressed his lips to hers’ in a passionate and embarrassing kiss. After a moment, she breathlessly pulled away, turning her head to see Mike and Billie cracking up and buried her face in his chest.
“Tré,” She muttered into his T-shirt, her cheeks bright red, “Not cool.” He snickered and shrugged, “That’s not the worst thing they’ve seen me do.” Abbey didn’t ask what the worst was and she didn’t want to know.
A short while later, as Abbey and Tré, hand in hand, were preparing to leave, Billie stopped them in the parking lot.
He turned to Abbey, smirking gratefully, “Thanks for listening.” She smiled over a Tré for a moment and released his hand. She grinned at Billie with commiseration, swiftly stepped forward and pulled him into a hug. His small body was tense for an instant before he laughed and squeezed her back.
“Thanks for existing,” She breathed emotionally, “I’m really proud of you.” She pulled away from him then and stepped back beside Tré who was beaming. She had always intended to tell him those things. They said goodbye and Billie started off toward his white Chevy Nova II at the end of the lot.
They started towards the van and Abbey stood looking on in confusion as Tré simply grabbed a two helmets from the back and locked the door. He shoved the smaller of the two into her arms and started back down the lot towards a large black motorcycle with Abbey following hesitantly behind. She stopped in her tracks as she saw it. He pulled the helmet over his gelled hair and smiled at her.
“T-Tré,” She whispered, her voice quavering with uncertainty. He leaned in and kissed her softly.
“Trust me,” He told her with a smirk as he pulled back.
“What about the van?” She squeaked as he placed the heavy helmet on her head.
“I’ve got it covered,” He explained, straddling the motorbike. Her eyes were wide as the quiet night was then filled with the chainsaw like growling of the cycle. Tré kicked back the kickstand and patted the seat behind him.
She was reluctant as she mounted the seat behind Tré.
“Put your arms around me,” He advised over the deafening sound of the engine and she obliged. She tightly held on to his waist and without warning he flew from the parking lot. Abbey’s breath hitched in her throat as they propelled down the darkened street. The street lights blurred as Tré wove in and out of light traffic. Her pulse quickened as he turned sharply around a corner and leaned her helmeted head again his shoulder. As the streets grew more remote, Tré sped up to nearly illegal speeds.
Abbey’s breath was shallow in her chest as she turned her head to look at the vague scenery flashing past her. It was oddly marvelous and exhilarating, despite the fact that she was terrified for her life. Gradually, her body began to relax against Tré, the wind in her eyes didn’t burn quite so much and she found with surprise that she was enjoying herself. All too soon, they were slowing down into the driveway of Tré’s home.
She sighed in relief as Tré parked the motorcycle and turned off the engine. He put down the kickstand and removed his helmet before stepping off of the bike. Abbey followed his lead and nearly toppled over her own feet but Tré caught her and lifted her off of the bike with ease. She frowned and blushed as he placed her back on her feet. She removed the helmet and Tré chuckled loudly in the silent night.
“What?” Abbey demanded with bemusement.
“Your hair,” He told her simply, trying to contain his laughter. She gasped and smoothed her hair, futilely. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, leaving her smiling ear to ear.
Without warning, Tré took her into his arms and kissed her. This time, she didn’t resist. She fervidly placed her dainty hand on his cheek. Tré lustfully grasped a handful of her hair and gently shoved her against the garage door. As the kiss deepened and she was overcome with the saccharine taste of his tongue, Tré grabbed her legs out from under her and wrapped them around his waist. She shuddered with titillation and wrapped her arms around his neck.
Just then, a set of headlights from a black Mercedes, they hadn’t seen earlier, lit the driveway, alarming the both of them. Tré turned without setting Abbey down and squinted against the lights. The driver flipped the glaring headlights off and Tré begrudgingly placed Abbey on her feet. As the driver-side door of the Mercedes popped open, Tré took her hand and started toward the idle vehicle. A tall, skinny woman with a feline face and long dark hair stepped out on Stiletto heels and Tré stopped in his tracks. Abbey’s heart skipped a beat and dread pooled in her stomach.
“D-Dena,” Tré stuttered loosening his grasp on Abbey’s hand, “What are you doing here?”
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