Emerald Eyes

March was coming close to an end. April was right around the corner. Soon after that, your little bundle of joy will be welcomed to this world you live in. You'll finally get to meet her. It feels like just yesterday you were at that bar, meeting those emerald eyes fro the first time, and now look. Now you were having a baby with those same eyes.

You sigh and look out the window of the passenger's seat thinking of this. You turn to your left, and watch his profile as he drives, eyes on the road. You slowly reach your left hand out and link it with his right one. He brakes out of his trance on the road and snaps his head to you. He smiles, and holds your hand tighter.

"I'm so excited for you to hear some of the songs we have," he smiles.

You grin, telling him that you can't wait to hear the new material.

"It's great, we have slower songs, and we have faster ones. I think it's a good mix of the both, and it gives you the emotion of the whole CD if you listen to it front to back, it really is great."

You ask him if him or the guys have decided on a release date for either the album or just a single.

He shakes his head as he brakes at a red light, "We were thinking something in the fall. Maybe September, for the album. As for a single, I want to get it out right before the album comes out, so probably in August. I want the anticipation to be as high as possible for this, so no one has to wait a long time. But we haven't even thought of a name for the album yet, so I don't even want to think about it just yet. I want this to be perfect."

The light turned green and he proceeded driving. You told him from what you've heard it is perfect. You try and convince him that he has nothing to worry about. His fans were going to love this album. Even if people weren't fans of Green Day before, they definitely would be after hearing this album.

He smiled as he turned into he studio parking lot. "Have I ever told you that you're responsible for this smile always on my face?"

He parked into a space and you threw yourself to him, pressing your lips again. You feel him smile against you, making you giggle. You part away from him, telling him you want to go in and hear this amazing work.

He chuckles, getting out of the car and running to your side. He opens your car door, like a true gentleman, and helps you out. You both walk inside, him holding every door open for you as you waddle into each room. You sometimes forget how far along you really are in this pregnancy.

Through he glass windows, you see Mike and Tré already inside, both at their designated instruments. Tré saw you and instantly got up and ran to you, Mike walking behind him.

"Blimpy!" Tré exclaimed as you enveloped you into a hug.

You giggled and said hi to him. Right after, you give Mike a long hug, giving your hello's as well.

Tré gets on his knees and is eye-level with your large stomach. He puts a hand lightly on it. He looks up at you, "How's the little bun doing?"

You laugh, telling her she's great, but ready to come out already.

He chuckles, "I hope so too, I wanna be a god mother already!"

The whole room erupts in a fit of laughter. Just then a man came in, all smiles. "You must be Roxana!" The man came over and shook your hand, "I'm Rob Cavallo, the producer of the band. It's so good to finally meet you."

You smile, telling him it was nice to meet him too, and that you were excited to hear what him and the guys have come up with. You smile to yourself, thinking about how many times you've said that same sentence already, and the day just began.

He begins walking out of the room, motioning for you to follow. As you both are walking out he calls from behind, "Let's hear it guys!"

Rob leads you into the room where all the controls are. You felt intimidated, afraid you might touch something and ruin it all. You see a couch on the back wall and make yourself comfortable.

Rob presses a button and talks into he microphone, "Let's start off with the newest one guys. I'm guessing Roxana hasn't heard it yet."

You watch those emerald eyes locked on you. You watch all his teeth become visible in his smile. His happiness was contagious, you couldn't help but smile as well.

The song starts off fast instantly. All three of them were full of energy pouring out of each note they played. They had the power to bring that energy into every single person listening along with them.

"Don't wanna be an American idiot. Don't want a nation under the new media. And can you hear the sound of hysteria? The subliminal mind fuck America."

Your eyes widened at how blunt the song was. The band's opposition with our current president, George W. Bush, was obvious.

"Welcome to a new kind of tension. All across the alien nation, where Everything isn't meant to be okay. Television dreams of tomorrow. We're not the ones who're meant to follow. Well that's enough to argue."

You watched the smiles never leaving their faces. They jumped around, bass and guitar in hand, as Tré pounded furiously on his drums. They looked like playing their instrument was just a natural way of life. They looked to calm, like they weren't even thinking about the next chord that needed to be played. They made it look so easy to be so talented.

"Well maybe I'm the fagot America. I'm not a part of a redneck agenda. Now everybody do the propaganda, and sing along in the age of paranoia."

They spoke so openly. They weren't holding back on their feelings. They want to make a change, and they're doing it the way they know: through music. You admired their will, not caring one bit about what anyone else's opinions. All that mattered to them was their own two cents. You wished everyone thought that way, you felt like they would such less hatred in the world.

The song continues for another minute or two, then ended on a note. You stood up and clapped, telling Rob how great that sounded.

Rob smiled and pressed the button, speaking into the microphone again. "That sounded great guys. Roxana is over here saying how much she likes it."

All three of the guys grin and bow to you. You can't help but laugh. You look to Rob and ask what the name of the song is.

"American Idiot," he states.

Thinking for a moment, you suggest they should name the album that and make it their first single. The song has a strong meaning behind it, and it's catchy. Anyone would love to blast that song on their stereo.

The producer's eyes lit up, and a smile grew wide on his face, "Roxana, you're a genius! The answer to our question has been there all along!" He ran to the door where the trio was and opened it quickly exclaiming, "American Idiot!"

Mike chuckled, "We're not playing that again, man. How about another one?"

Rob shook his head, "No, no. The name of the album, American Idiot!"

Mike looked to Tré, who looked to those beautiful green eyes. Then three pairs of eyes were looking at you and the producer. All at one, they whispered, "Yes."

Rob clapped his hands together once, "Thank god we have your girl here, Billie. She's the one who came up with that!"

He looked at you and smirked while he walked to you. Throwing an arm around you he chuckled, "Beautiful, smart and creative. Damn did I pick a winner!"

You giggled and pulled him into a hug, proud that you could help out with something so important to him and his best friends. After all this time, you were beginning to finally believe that maybe this was where you were meant to be, in the arms of a rock star.