The Other Woman

Part 5

That morning I woke up to the feel of my warm sheets surrounding my body, along with someone's arm tightly tucked beneath my stomach. Turning around gently, so as not to wake him, I smiled as I saw Billie Joe lightly snoring in front of me, with his mouth slightly open. His dark hair was now messy and ruffled, since I had practically pulled it out last night. I watched as his chest lightly heaved up and down, remembering how we were both heaving last night. All of this brought a loving smile to my face. Billie's face had such a large amount of innocence to it, that it made we want to vomit, because this man was everything BUT innocent.

I looked over his tattooed shoulder at the clock, and the time read 7:00 a.m. The sun was just beginning to peer out of the gloom morning sky, and the birds had yet to begin their morning chirps.

Much too early

Stroking my fingers along his hairline, I reminisced about the first time we met and actually hooked up. It was only about a year ago, but I could never forget it, and I'm sure that neither could he, it was after all a huge stepping stone in life for us both. I had never been a mistress before, and quite frankly, I was against it.

Purposefully being in a affair with a married man?

It just wasn't my style. But when I was with Billie Joe, those thoughts and morals that I had once kept just washed away. Especially on that fateful day.

***

"Go away Rick" I mutter and swayed my arms about at him.

"Please Selene?! I'll bet you'll enjoy it" he replies, trying eagerly to persuade me.

"Rick, I really don't feel like participating in that kind of activity with you."

"Jeez, you make it sound like some sort of kinky sexual position! I just want you to come with me to the club rally" he continues begging.

"Look Rick, I hate to break it to you, but that little underground punk club is going to get demolished. Whether you like it or not, a little rally isn't going to change anything when in comparison to a lot of money," I pester.

Sighing, he sits back against the seat of his car, now pulling out of Publix's parking lot. He reaches down to turn the radio dial on, obviously giving up on his request for me to accompany him to some 'punk/ska' rally.

A small venue, ironically named 'Demolition', used to play a lot of ska and punk bands back in the day here in New York City, but now times have changed, and as I've heard someone say, 'Punk is dead'. The only attendees of the club were about a hundred punks, who still jammed and moshed at 'Demolition'. Unfortunately, they didn't have the funds to keep the club up and going. So when news spread of the shutting down of 'Demolition', many people, most whom were not even punks, were pissed. It kind of was a city monument of what used to be. They of course eventually raised the funds to keep it going, but time was ticking, and all the demolition material was all ready paid for and waiting for use.

"I don't understand why you don't want to go," he sighs.

"It's a waste of my time, I could be instead looking for a job or something."

"Whatever Serenity," he mutters.

Rolling my eyes, I turn my head out towards the window. Chad acted as if I wasn't supporting his 'cause'. I cared, its just that I knew it would be a waste of time. Nothing can challenge the power of money. And its not as if he was my boyfriend, we were just really close and long time friends. Jeez, what a baby! And as the radio blazed on about news of 'Demolition', and played songs of The Clash, Ramones, and Dead Kennedy's, and announcing a few guests who would be appearing, I came to a decision.

"Fine Rick, since you'll be pissed at me for the like, the next two months I'll go," I murmur.

"YEEEESSSSS!!" he screeches, letting go of the steering wheel, and giving me a quick bear hug.

"RICK! THE ROAD!" I scream, pushing his hands back towards the steering wheel.

Smiling, he positions himself back to the steering wheel and continues to drop me home. The radio is still playing some pretty good music, but then the ever annoying announcer and commercials come on.

'As you all know by now, Demolition is close to being shut down' gaggled the VJ. 'And you all know that we need as much support as possible. So as a treat for those attending......... We have a few bay area celebrities or shall I say PUNKS, who are going to be at the Demolition this weekend for the rally. Ladys and gentlemen, I'm talking about Green Day," he yells.

"Please turn down the radio Rick" I beg, putting my hand to my ears.

"Did you NOT fucking hear that?! Green Day is gonna be there, you'd have to be an idiot not to want to go," he replies.

Rolling my eyes, I wonder who the hell is Green Day. I had heard of them, and I even heard a few songs by them. One of them was 'Time of your life', and the other one was I believe, 'Whats my age again?', wait no. That was Blink 182. Oh well.

"Who's Green Day? And do they have enough money to buy back the place?" I ask.

"Who's Green Day?" he says, staring blindly in disbelief.

Oh God, here it comes...

"Who's Green Day? How can you ask that?" he blurts out, now switching lanes to go down the street towards my house.

"Will you just answer me before I leave. Oh, and by the way, tell Jennifer to pick up a pack of pantyliner's for me," I say, nonchalantly.

"Gross... , but yes I will tell her," he replies, approaching the driveway. "Anyways, Green Day is that band you like, with the 'Time of Your Life' song, and 'Welcome to Paradise" he adds.

"Oooh," I respond, now stepping out of the Toyota Camry. "Well, I'll see you later on Saturday along with Green Day," I add mockingly.

"Yeah, yeah" he mutters before driving off.

Before long, Saturday had approached and Rick and myself were standing in a scary crowd of about 400 people. It was sweaty, heart pumping, energizing, funny, and partially insane. P E R F E C T.

I had dressed up in a pair of tight black cuffed knickers, a wife beater, and a signature pair of all black cnverses. My hair was in a loose ponytail, begging to be free and sway about. Rick was dressed pretty much the same, baggy pants with a chain here and there, converses, and a T-shirt that read 'Slick Rick's'.

"You're having fun right?" he asked.

"Yeah, it aint so bad" I mutter. I really was having a good time. I had met a few strange, but cool people; the bands that played on the worn down stage were completely brilliant. And for the icing on top of the cake, Green Day was going to be playing 'Time of Your Life'. It wasn't exactly a 'moshing' song, but it was bitterly sweet, something that always captivated me. Lit, my favorite band was performing also.. I was more than excited, maybe I would even be a groupie, and get to hook up with the lead singer.

"Owww" I squealed. "Why'd the fuck you pinch me?!" I asked Rick.

"Here's your chance to be that groupie" he winks, nudging his head to his right.

Looking beyond Rick's huge head, I see none other than A.J himself (lead singer of Lit), and his adorable sideburns and skinny Mohawk. How cute? Walking towards him, I feel butterflies in my stomach, and lust in my heart.

'I wonder what our kids would look like?' I wondered, walking towards him, having to push and shove multiple people out of my way.

"What the fuckin hell?!!" I stammer. Someone had just practically crushed my rib cage.

"Fuck. I'm sorry," the mystery man says. And by now, I'm pretty sure that you can deduce that the mystery man was Billie Joe, what a klutz. But at the time and year, I hadn't recognized him. I had seen a few of Green Day's rag tag videos, but never got around to memorizing his face, or any other of the band members' faces.

"Fuck. I'm sorry? What a considerate apology!" I mutter sarcastically.

"What the hell else do you want me to say!" he shouts. And I can see tear stains at the bottom of his eyes, and his eyes are a bit puffy and red. Clear signs of crying.

"Whatever," I mutter before stalking off towards the grand prize of tonight.
But before I can take 4 steps, the teary eyed stranger tugs on my arm, so that we are back facing each other.

"Who do you think you are?" he said in a dangerous calm voice.

"I think, I'm about to slap your ass if you don't let go of my fuckin' arm," I shouted.

He let go of my wrist, and I can see hurt and anger in his face. And for some odd reason, I felt sorry for the guy as our eyes gaped at one another.

"Look I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get you upset," I apologize, making my best effort to smile at the stranger.

He smiled back, which comforted me a bit.

"Its okay," he smiled. "I've been having a shitty day."

I laughed faintly, before introducing myself. "I'm Serenity by the way" I say, extending my hand.

"Billie Joe" he greets, as we shake hands. "Are you from around here?" he asks.

"Uh, yes and no. Every once in a while I might migrate to Miami, then come back here to New York," I reply.

"Oh"

"Are you from around here?" I ask sadly. Because I had just seen A.J, go backstage. Erasing my dreams and aspirations of meeting him.

"Naw. I'm from Californiiaaaaaaaaaa" he stutters, while a teenage girl launches themselves onto his shoulder.

'Oh my god, you're Billie Joe. Can I have an autograph?"

He smiles at her, showing his chipped, but still cute teeth. "Whats your name sweetheart?" he asks sweetly, as if a changed man.

"Lauren," she answers, wide eyed at him.

And when she walks away after receiving her signature autograph, we both hear her scream a little. "Uh. Are you some sort of celebrity?" I ask.

"I guess. I'm part of Green Day" he says shyly.

"Are you serious?!" I shrieked. I noticed, his chubby like figure, and the pair of dark green pants he was wearing. He needed a shave, and his hair was blonde, black, and messy. Quite sexy.

He doesn't respond, but smiles weakly, as we (without my knowledge) head backstage.

"Uh, am I allowed to be back here?" I ask, as we head to his dressing room.

"Yeah, the security here isn't exactly safe and secure," he murmurs.

I faintly laugh before entering his lonely abode. "So where's the rest of the band? My friend Rick would die to meet you guys."

"Not sure. I think they're warming up or something."

"Are you so special that you can't warm up with them?" I ask menacingly, but still kidding.

"Shut up" he mutters. "You're not a normal fan."

I roll my eyes at him a bit, which I think he saw.

"Sorry" he says, walking up towards me.

"Right," I murmur. "Uh can I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure. Why not?" he says, seating himself next to me, as I leaned up against an old wooden desk.

"Why were you so upset earlier? Because it looked as if you were crying," I say slowly.

He chuckles a bit before answering. "Naw, I've just been having a few family problems."

"Sorry to hear that."

"Yeah, me too," he sighs.

And before I knew it, he had gotten up and our lips were descending upon each others. He pressed his chubby hands on both sides of the desk, blocking my body from getting away from him (not that I wanted to). I looked into his green eyes as he looked into my own, and we then shared a kiss. It was light, warm, and a bit sensual. He then walked away, and for a moment I was appalled, but as he locked the door and slithered back over to me, a smile occupied both of our faces.
His arms made there way across my waist, as my arms hoisted around his neck. But something paused me from kissing him back.

A golden wedding band, on his right index finger.

A symbol of marriage.

Pulling away from him, I was confused and a little hurt.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Is that a wedding ring?" I asked, still with a shocked look on my face.

He dropped his arms to his side and gently rubbed the golden ring with his finger. "I'm not sure if I'll be wearing it much longer. My wife and I have been having problems for the past few months now."

I still didn't know what to say. Should I stop and just walk away? Should I proceed with the romance? Should I just comfort him as a friend?

"Oh," was all I could muster up and say.

After a minute or two of silence he spoke. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kissed you," he says sadly, with those pudgy cheeks blowing up.

"It's okay. Spur of the moment kind of thing," I laughed faintly.

"It's just that I've been feeling lonely for a while now, and Tre and Mike are getting on my nerves. Its just so OVERWHELMING," he half yelled.

I knew how he felt. I had recently (over 2 months) broken up with a special man in my life too. We were even engaged, believe it or not. But he simply wasn't willing to make certain sacrifices for me, that I was willing to make for him. So in the end, we broke apart, and I was lonely, bitter, and melancholy for quite some time, which is now that I think about it, what Billie Joe had looked like when he first ran into me.

And then it happened again.

But this time, it was my own fault.

I walked over to the wall he was leaning on, and gently kissed his lips. At first he pulled back, but soon he complied, and kissed me back. I could hear my band 'Lit' on stage singing my favorite song 'Miserable', but I was far more interested in the activities taking place inside Billie Joe's dressing room. Especially, when he began slowly creeping his hands up the front and back of my shirt.

I sighed and gave out a few short moans during the process, but the moment was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Billie, you in there?!" called an annoying voice.

Billie Joe and I immediately pulled away from each other. I removed my hands from there tangled position in his pants, and he slid his hands from underneath my shirt.

"Yeah Mike," he called out quickly, giving me an innocent smile.

He allowed me to straighten out my shirt and hair before opening the door to allow his band mate to enter the room.

"Did you finish war----. Oh, I didn't know you had company" said Mike, looking weirdly at me.

"I was just showing Lauren here, how to strum a few chords," he replied, touching the neighboring guitar, and winking at me. Letting me know he knew my real name.

I smiled at Mike, and for the extra effort and my keen sense of acting, I even asked for an autograph.

"Thanks," I muttered, as he handed me the sheet of paper with his scribbled signature.

And then I slid out of the room, like the snake that I was. I checked my pocket first, making sure I had the phone number that Billie Joe had given me.

And folks, that was the beginning of me being, the other woman.

***

"What have you been smiling about for the past 10 minutes?" questioned Billie Joe, startling me from my thoughts.

"How long have you been awake?" I asked, snuggling back up against him.

"Only about 5 minutes. You messing up my perfect hair woke me," he teased, as he now began playing with my own hair. "What were you thinking about, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Just the day we met" I sighed.

"Oh yeah, that demolition place. Pity it still got knocked down, stupid motherfuckers," he mutters in my ear.

"I knew it would get knocked over. Its all about the dough," I stated, rubbing my fingers together and yawning.

"Well, I tried, and that's enough," he muttered.

"Aren't you gonna make some smart ass reply?" he asked.

But by now, I was asleep against his warm chest. Safe and most definitely secure in his arms.