Good Man

Tattoos and memories
And dead skin on trial
For what it's worth
It was worth all the while



Strobe lights were working their magic in an otherwise darkly lit nightclub in San Francisco and, for whatever reason, the DJ was playing Coldplay's 'Viva La Vida.' In the center of the dance floor, Billie Joe was dancing by himself as if no one were watching; his emerald eyes were closed, his arms out at his sides and his lips parted only just slightly as he sang along to the lyrics.

"It was a wicked and wild wind / Blew down the doors to let me in / Shattered windows and the sound of drums / People couldn't believe what I'd become / Revolutionaries wait / For my head on a silver plate / Just a puppet on a lonely string / Oh, who would ever wanna be king?"

Caroline ran out into the dance floor at that moment, drink in hand as she took Billie Joe's hand with her free one to sing along with him in her drunken stupor.

"I hear Jerusalem bells a-ringing / Roman Calvary choirs a-singing / Be my mirror, my sword and shield / My missionaries in a foreign field / For some reason I can't explain / I know St. Peter won't call my name / Never an honest word / But that was when I ruled the world!"

The strobe light effect diminished as colored blinking lights began to sprawl out over the dance floor and walls, beginning to bathe the rest of the club and its occupants in an incandescent barrage of multiple hues.

As the song gradually ended, friends and family of Billie Joe, as well as the rest of the club's patrons and employees broke out into a round of applause for the now 43-year-old man as he stood stiffly in place and bowed once. On his second bow, he held firmly onto Caroline's free hand and she bowed with him only to both straighten back up and laugh drunkenly at the hijinks.

"Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Billie Joe Armstrong and Caroline Pritchard!" the DJ lauded.

"Bravo, bravo," Tre bellowed from the edge of the dance floor, clapping his hands up high in front of him like a spectator at the end of an opera or Broadway play.

When the dance floor filled back up with sweaty bodies ready to dance the rest of the night away, Billie Joe and Caroline made their way over to Tre, Adrienne, the Jasons and other friends and whatnot who were there to help the green-eyed guitarist celebrate his 43rd birthday.

"Just think, this time next year, we'll be celebrating your 44th birthday on the road," Caroline commented as she took a sip of her drink; a double shot of Tequila Rose on the rocks.

Billie Joe flashed her a withering look which was a general mix of fear, derision and exhaustion from dancing. "Let's cross that bridge when we get to it, shall we?"

"What? Turning forty-four or touring?"

"I just turned forty-three and you're already thinking on me being a year older and closer to fifty. So, uh, yeah...fuck you very much."

Cackling in response, Caroline stepped to the side near Adrienne who was nursing a rum and Coke. "I thought you didn't care about getting older, that it was about how you feel?"

"I lied."

Adrienne laughed then, as well, reaching out to embrace her husband. "Oh, sweetie, now you know how I feel, being two and a half years older than you. I get to hit all those fun milestones first."

"Kinda like a taste-tester to let him know each age is gonna go?" Tre offered up with a smirk.

"What about tasting my wife?" Billie Joe wondered, a bit distracted due in part to his liquor consumption and the music being generally loud.

"Nothing, Billie. Nevermind." Tre just shook his head and found himself glancing at Caroline at that moment, watching as she scanned the sea of people grooving on the dance floor.

They hadn't talked about their kiss on New Year's Eve since that night almost two months before; not because they were avoiding the subject or anything, just because they were too damn busy and caught up with being back home and recording in the studio. And nothing else had happened that night aside from the kiss, either. They had liplocked for a good, few seconds and then parted ways for the night. Caroline hadn't bothered to head back downstairs to tell anyone goodnight; she had just left the third floor and moved down to the second to head into her room and not to emerge until the following morning. Tre, on the other hand, had gone back to join the party, but it wasn't long after midnight that half of Ellis' guests had left to go on to other parties or to just head home altogether. By one-thirty, Tre had headed up to his own room and passed out for the night, waking up only when Frankito knocked on the door with Avarielle in tow.

Tre smiled at the memory of watching his little girl saunter into the room and over to his bedside rather haphazardly due in part to her being only eighteen months old at the time and still working out the kinks where walking was concerned. He had sat up with sleep in his eyes, smiled at his teenage son and bent over to swoop Avarielle up in his strong arms and hold her tightly to his chest.

"Hiya Daddy," she had said to him, and his heart had nearly melted. It was the first time she had actually greeted him in any form of a sentence. Tre had then proceeded in kissing the bejesus out of her cheeks and blowing raspberries into her neck, causing her to jiggle like a bowl full of Jell-O; her brown curls bouncing all over.

"I said, do you wanna dance?" came a question that snapped Tre out of his reverie.

He focused on the voice and was staring at Caroline as he blinked a few times. "Sorry," he apologized. "Was distracted. Uh, dance? Sure."

Knocking back the rest of his Cheech, he set the empty glass down on a random table and took Caroline's hand and led her to the dance floor to dance to some new Madonna song.

"Can you believe Madonna is still pumping out dance songs?" Caroline commented, with a tone of disbelief in her voice. "What is she now? Fifty-six?"

"No different from Cher being, like, eighty or whatever when she released 'Do You Believe In Love' or whatever that song was called about fifteen years ago," Tre quipped as they moved closer to one another; placing a hand on her hip rather platonically.

"So, she's ninety-five now, is what you're saying?" Caroline questioned with a deep laugh bubbling forth from her lips.

"Who the hell really knows with all that plastic surgery and Botox..."

Caroline shook her head. "I'm pretty sure she's only just now nearing seventy like Stevie Nicks."

"Right, and you'd know how old Stevie Nicks is because you and her are bosom buddies and everything now."

"I have her cell phone number and we're on each other's Christmas card list, yes," Caroline admitted to as she swayed her hips from side to side with the beat of the music. "Would I love to hang out with my musical, female idol and coffee klatch with her over Sunday brunch like good, ol' friends? Definitely."

"Instead you have to settle on going out clubbing and having a few drinks for Billie's birthday," Tre remarked with a shake of his head. "Talk about slummin' it."

Flashing Tre a 'you're such a goober' look, Caroline bopped her head to and fro as the music's pulse reverberated through her veins and she twirled herself around in a circle. The two of them stopped talking then and just continued to dance on as the dance floor got thicker with bodies.

The DJ was spinning a steady beat so that when one song ended and another began, there was no lull in sound; he made it so that the transition from song to song was flawless to keep all the people in the club moving. It was not exactly the typical scene for thirty- and forty-something rockstars, two of whom got their start in the gritty East Bay punk scene twenty-five years earlier. But, this night out, it was a freeing, liberating feeling. Just getting lost in upbeat music and the sensation of being younger and more lighthearted; not a care in the world.

It was exhilarating.

And of course, the drinking continued. How could it not?

A celebration was being had, even if it was a Tuesday night, and the kids were being taken care of at home. They could stay out till the early hours if they wanted to and not worry about anything.

Granted, the older they got the harder it was to do so, but they tried. Lord knows they tried.

By one in the morning, now the 18th of February and no longer Billie Joe's birthday, they all left the club and piled into the limo waiting outside to cart their asses around. The long, sleek black vehicle coasted up and down the hilly streets of San Francisco until it came upon the bay bridges to head across to Oakland where, at 1:40-ish, they arrived to Zebra Tattoo and Body Piercing on Telegraph Avenue where Mike had mentioned to Caroline once about getting inked there, once upon a time.

They all piled out once more to stagger into the tattoo parlor, chunking up into pairs or groups of threes around the variety of tattoo art one of the artists, the bald-headed Olmy, could do or had done.

"Billie Joe, Tre!" Olmy called out, remembering them from stopping in years before. "Long time, no see. Come to get some ink or is this just a social call?"

"Ink, my man," Billie Joe replied, slamming his hand down, playfully, upon the countertop near the cash register. "It'smybirthday," he added in one slur.

Olmy narrowed his eyes and then smirked. "Well, happy birthday, Billie. What are you now, forty?"

"Older, but close. Forty-fucking-three."

"Yeah, he's a lucky bastard like that," Tre piped up. "The rest of us are showing in our years and this piece of shit is regressing."

Billie Joe simply beamed at that, slightly glassy-eyed.

"So, who's getting ink?"

Tre pointed to Billie Joe, Caroline and himself. "Us three. Matching tats."

"Of?"

"The letters TBC."

"It's our new band name," Caroline informed, sidling up between Tre and Billie Joe. "We're gonna immortalize ourselves on our skin."

"Mrs. Pritchard," Olmy bowed his head to her. "How are you?"

"Slightly drunk," she responded with a giggle.

"Only slightly?"

The banter continued as Caroline went to get her tattoo done first; as Billie Joe insisted, "Ladies first." Of course, teasing ensued wherein Tre commented that, in that case, Billie Joe should get tattooed before Caroline. As she sat in the chair with left arm turned and stretched out at her side, Olmy cleaned the inside of her left elbow and began to tattoo the letters TBC in a bold font with a hollow star on either side.

"Want color?"

"Yellow."

Olmy did just that; filling in the stars with yellow ink and when he was done, pressed a piece of cotton cloth to the tattoo and wrapped it with a sort of cling wrap and tapped it so it wouldn't unravel.

"You know the drill on how to take care of a new tat, so I'm not gonna go over it with you," he muttered with a smile as Caroline clamored out of the chair. "Next."

"Billie, you're a lady. Your turn," Tre joked, giving his longtime friend a gentle shove, but enough to cause the older guy to bump into Caroline as she joined Adrienne in the front room.

"Eat shit, Tre," Billie Joe growled playfully.

Billie Joe sat down and rolled up his right pant leg, pointing to how he wanted the exact, same tattoo as Caroline sprawling vertically down the side of his leg.

"Billie, my friend, your pants are too tight against your calf. I won't be able to tattoo that spot."

Making a face, Billie Joe sprung up from the chair and grabbed at his belt buckle and undid it, pulling it out of the belt loops and tossing it to the ground just before unzipping his pants and proceeding to shimmy them down off his narrow hips.

"Oh, for Christ's sake, Billie," Adrienne groaned as she happened to look into the room at that moment to see her husband in his shirt and boxers, and his black Chucks only. "It's a good thing you didn't go commando, otherwise, poor Olmy."

Olmy just laughed as Billie Joe sat back down on the chair, sans pants, and pointed to the same spot on his right leg. He grabbed some shaving cream and spritzed a bit on the area on Billie Joe's leg the shorter man had pointed to, and then shaved it away so he had a clean surface of skin to work on.

As Billie Joe got his tattoo, Adrienne continued to shake her head at her husband as she took Caroline's hand and touched the cling wrap around the younger woman's arm. "Can I see?" she asked before Caroline pulled the wrap and cotton back a little and showed her. "Is it sensitive? The last time I got a tattoo, I remember my skin was sensitive to the touch for days."

Caroline shrugged. "Nah, it's fine."

"Dude, Billie! Watch out. We almost got a glimpse of Little Billie!" Tre exclaimed, shielding his eyes mockingly as Billie Joe was climbing out of the chair, and trying to put his pants back on with the same cotton cloth and cling wrap around his right leg.

"Ain't nothing you haven't seen before."

"Totally different context between then and now, man."

Adrienne and Caroline rolled their eyes at each other as Jason White and Jason Freese, who had both been hanging back with their wives, poked their heads into the room and laughed before going back to looking at a book of tattoos on the counter next to the cash register.

"Fucking faggots," Jason Freese called out, teasingly. "Get a room."

"We have one," Billie Joe called back. "Close the fucking door, you goddamn, fucking perverts. We're trying to jerk each other off in private, here. Fuck."

Everyone busted out laughing as the dark-haired man sauntered out into the front waiting room of sorts where the others were standing around.

Tre was left alone in the room with Olmy then, sitting down on the chair and rolling up the sleeve on his right arm. "Put it on the same spot as Caroline's."

"Inside the elbow?"

Tre nodded. "Yeah, and...uh...I want to make another appointment with you in the next week or so, to get a few more tattoos done that I've been meaning to do for a while now."

"Oh yeah? What of?" Olmy wondered as he cleaned the inside of the drummer's elbow.

"My kids' names. And my late wife's."

Both men looked at each other for a moment before Olmy just nodded. "Alright. When we're done here we can set it up."

"Cool. Thanks."



As Tre stood at his Leedy drum kit, drumsticks in hand, he was sporting the TBC tattoo he'd gotten the night of Billie Joe's birthday, along with four names over his body. Ramona's name was wrapped around his right wrist, Franktio's name around his left. On the inside of his left elbow, paralleling where he got his TBC tattoo, was Avarielle's name. Then, across the left side of his chest, over his heart, he got Giselle's name, the 'i' dotted with a heart, for the one year they were married, and below her name were was '81 - '13 to signify her birth and death years.

In the live room in Studio A at 880, the general mood was nearly the polar opposite of what it had been two weeks prior.

Tempers were flaring for no good reason; bitching, nitpicking, even some name-calling. And Tre had an idea as to why.

In just exactly three weeks' time, it would be the first birthday of Caroline's twins and Billie Joe, the main culprit in the grumpy, mood swings, was back to doting in his mind as to whether these two children, who were nearing the first year milestone of their life, were his kids or not.

Lakota and Rhiannon had taken their first steps the week before and were toddling everywhere. They were speaking here and there and their personalities were coming out more and more prominently. Rhiannon was ever the diva, her hair thick and sandy-blonde. She cried when no one paid attention to her, she cried when she didn't get her way, she cried when she was being held and wanted to be put down. But when she smiled, she got her hooks in you. She was one of the most adorable little girls, ever. Then there was Lakota, the more mild-mannered of the two, who loved to be cuddled, only cried when he got scared or whined when he was getting tired and irritable, like any child of his age. He would sit, quietly, and watch the world around him go by; occasionally mimicking those nearby like his mother, siblings, uncles Billie and Tre or his grandparents. And when he smiled, it was a shy smile, but his green eyes sparkled like that of a million watt bulb.

And it was in those moments when the twins captivated the hearts around them, were divas or adorably deep in whatever could be construed as toddler thought, that Billie Joe really began to believe he was their father.

He watched them growing up from a safe distance, a part of their lives, but unsure how invested in loving them he should be. Like that of an uncle and godfather, or as their flesh and blood father.

And this dilemma plaguing his mind, he began to take it out on Caroline and Tre during their recording sessions, chalking it up to writer's block or general stress of recording. He nitpicked every little thing Caroline or Tre did when they played their instruments, telling them it was wrong, it could be better, and wondered if he put a monkey in their place if there would be any difference in how the instruments got played.

As another week rolled on, the tension got so thick, it felt like anyone walking into the studio was walking into a house on fire.

Nothing was getting recorded.

Tre had called up Butch in LA and told him not to bother coming up to the Bay anytime soon while the band was going through some personal conflicts with each other; to not waste his time.

When Billie Joe found out about the phone call Tre had made, he accused his friend of undermining him and Caroline, to which Caroline jumped up to Tre's defense and told Billie Joe flat out that if he weren't being such a dick lately that maybe they would be able to get shit done.

That only caused their guitarist to flare up with a slew of garbled obscenities as he threw his guitar to the floor, raised his hands in mock surrender and declared he was going home.

The third week of March brought nothing more than silence.

Billie Joe didn't come into the studio at all that week. Caroline did twice, with Tre, to lay down some extra drum beats and bass lines to one of the songs they had been working on prior to the feuding. They didn't bother to call Billie Joe on it, only assuming he'd go off on them for undermining him again.

But, then, on the 24th, Lakota and Rhiannon's first birthday, their squabbles reached an all-time low. It was after the party Caroline had thrown for them at her house, when she was in the kitchen cleaning up some of the mess when Billie Joe appeared behind her, pressing the palms of his hands down on the island in the center of the room.

She turned around and jumped, not realizing anyone was there and smirked a little; not completely forgetting there were bitter feelings going back and forth between them.

"Sorry," Billie Joe muttered.

"For being a big, fucking asshole this last month?"

Turning his expression immediately into that of a scowl, Billie Joe shook his head. "No, for spooking you just now."

"So, you're not gonna apologize for being an asshole at all?"

"Fuck you," he grunted.

"Get out of my house, Billie," snapped Caroline, slamming down a plastic sippy cup that was in her hands. "If you're gonna be like this, in my house, I don't want you in it, especially today."

"On the birthday of what could be our twins?"

"Oh," came a response of sudden realization. "Is that what all this has been about lately?" she whispered and gestured between the two of them with her free hand. "You're going through a 'woe is me, am I the baby daddy?' phase again?" Rolling her eyes, she moved around the island to grab the Swifter out of the pantry closet in the kitchen where some of her can goods and cleaning supplies were. "We've had this discussion. And it's closed."

As she stepped past Billie Joe, he grabbed her arm. "It doesn't mean it's not killing me to not know for sure if I'm the one or not," he growled. "There wouldn't be any fucking 'woe is me, am I the baby daddy?' phase if you'd kept your fucking legs closed."

Jerking her arm out of Billie Joe's grasp, she pulled it back and swung forward, connecting her fist into his left cheek, causing him to stumble backward into the island. His head snapped back and he gasped faintly in surprise.

"Don't you ever throw that in my face," Caroline seethed, getting in Billie Joe's face as he straightened up and touched his fingertips to his quickly swelling cheekbone area. "I was in a relationship with Gerard and ended it and yes, I did sleep with Dave a couple times afterward. Him and I have a history and I was in one of the worst places ever. And when I slept with you, I reached a low. We both did. We've been over this a thousand times already and I am not going to do it again. I am not a slut, never have been, never will be, so don't you imply that I am, so help me God."

"Okay, maybe I deserved that," Billie Joe spoke, rubbing his sore cheek and sighing.

"Damn right you did. You deserve a matching shiner on the opposite side for the dick you've been to Tre and me this last month."

"I know."

"Well, get over yourself, Billie. You're not the leader of this band. There are three of us. It's not a dictatorship, it's a...fucking democracy. We all get a vote, and right now, I am this close to joining forces with Tre to vote you off the fucking island."

"You're mixing analogies."

"Don't fucking patronize me."

"I'm not fucking patronizing you," Billie Joe snipped back. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and pursed his lips together, silently fuming as he looked to his right for something to focus on.

"We have a job to do and you're letting your baby daddy issues get in the way. I got pregnant, it happened, move on." Lowering her hazel eyes off of Billie Joe, Caroline stalked off toward the pantry and yanked the door open, removing the Swifter, and turning her body toward him once again. "It's not your concern, it's mine. You have a son with his own baby on the way in three months. You should be focusing on our album and your pending grandchild, you old fucking man."

Lifting his eyes, Billie Joe caught the look in hers and saw the flash of amusement in them.

He couldn't help it.

He laughed.

"Gotta love the irony, right? I've always been the older guy in the band, but looked the youngest. And people keep commenting on how I look younger the older I get and yet, here I am, forty-three and about to be a grandfather."

Placing the Swifter to the ground, Caroline began to slide it back and forth on the linoleum floor. "I know you were oddly excited at the fact, but how are you not perturbed that your twenty-year-old son is doing everything backwards. Didn't you want him to enjoy his twenties, have a career and then, after a few years, settle down and start a family?"

Billie Joe shrugged. "Hey, I was two years older than he is now when I got married and found out Adrienne was expecting him."

"But he's also lived a more sheltered life than you did. You had to grow up faster than he did. You lost your dad, your mom was always working, you quit high school, made your own career from scratch. You pulled yourself out of the gutter and into the glitter, so to speak. Joey's never had to want for anything."

"True."

"He's always had both his parents, nice clothes, expensive toys and gadgets, opportunities to travel all over the country and to other countries, stay in fancy hotels, had a good education and has daddy's name to drop if he ever wants to get something in the real world."

"What are you getting at?" Billie Joe narrowed his eyes.

Caroline stopped moving the Swifter around and shrugged. "I dunno exactly. I think, maybe...he's not completely prepared for what lies ahead. Parenthood, growing up in general..."

"He's got a good head on his shoulders. He'll be fine."

The green-eyed man sighed and leaned back against the island, pressing his palms down on the counter with his arms bend at the elbows slightly. He was trying not to think of the shiner that he could feel puffing up on his face or how amazed he was at the way Caroline could pack a punch.

"I'm sorry for it all," he blurted quietly as she maneuvered around the kitchen floor with her Swifter.

Stopping in her tracks, Caroline was still dealing with having just punched Billie Joe and him being an all around dick, but his mood was quickly changing and it felt like a weight was lifting off her shoulders. As she looked up at him, she narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him.

"Are you just saying that to prevent me from doing further damage to your pretty face?"

Billie Joe threw his hands up in mock surrender. "I'm serious. I'm really sorry. I know how I was acting in the back of my mind as I was doing it, but it was kinda like, I dunno...like being on autopilot or in a coma. I couldn't help myself. I get in these funks once in a while where I go from being average, everyday normal guy to being rockstar prick guy. Ping-ponging back and forth like some sort of bipolar fuckhead."

"You should see someone about that," Caroline commented as she finished with the floor and put the Swifter away in the pantry. "Want me to refer you to the psychiatrist I saw after my overdose?"

"No, I got my own guy I've been seeing off and on for almost twenty years."

"Serious?"

"Yeah."

"Huh."

"Holy fuck, dude," came a third voice.

Caroline and Billie Joe turned their heads in the direction of the archway from the hallway that connected the front hall and saw Tre holding Avarielle in his arms.

"Whatever you did, Billie, was it worth it?"

Billie Joe smirked and lifted off the island and pressed his hand to his cheekbone again. It stung, but it wasn't the first time he'd been punched. He'd live. "Is it ever?"

"Sometimes."

"Well, let's just go with Caroline knocked some sense into me."

Tre looked over at Caroline who stood in front of her fridge now, hands on her hips and looking very much like the poster child for a badass, hot mama. "I coulda told you she was tough."

"Yeah, I know she is." Billie Joe looked between his friends and licked his lips. "Listen, I was just apologizing to Care about being a shit to you both, and I'm dealing with my problems and I promise you both, I won't take it out on you guys anymore. At least, not knowingly. And, should I do so again, feel free to punch me. It seems to work."

"You don't have to ask me twice," Caroline quipped.

Tre laughed and cleared his throat of some minor phlegm. "Well, if we're all hunky dory again, or very close to it, I have a proposition to make."

"Oh yeah?" the dark-haired man muttered, curiosity flashing in his green eyes like a candle being lit in a blackened room. "What kind of proposition?"

"It's not gonna involve anything gross is it?" teased Caroline. She walked over to Tre and held her hands out to take Avarielle from him. "Wanna freezie-pop, honey?"

"Yeah-huh," Avarielle nodded.

As Tre released his grasp on his daughter, he continued. "No, well, maybe at some moments. After all, I wouldn't be me without a small percentage of being gross." Smiling and watching Caroline open the freezer and pull out a cherry freezie-pop, he added, "I was thinking of a road trip."

"A road trip?" the female bandmate repeated as she set Avarielle down on the ground, laid the freezie-pop down on the counter and grabbed a knife to cut the tip off before handing it down to her niece. Patting the little girl on the head, she reached over toward the sink and dropped the knife inside.

"Yeah. The three of us, one car, heading out on the open road for about a week or two, give or take, and stay at some random, middle of nowhere motel or bed and breakfast." He looked at Billie Joe who seemed to be going over the idea in his head. "Our album is gonna be done in a few months and we'll be doing promotional tours after that, followed by an actual tour of the country, Europe, and so on. We won't have much time to ourselves for at least the next year. I just think it would be a nice way to sort of...I dunno..."

"Bond?" Caroline offered.

"Yeah, kinda like that. Bond, reconnect, center ourselves. Whatever you wanna call it. Remind each other why we're doing this."

"What about our kids?"

"We got family who are understanding and ready to help. Hell, I'll call Ellis and see if she'll fly out to stay with Avarielle if I can't get my immediate family to help. You know Adrienne is always more than ready to watch your kids. Especially Chloe, who is almost the world to her. She's godmother to Chloe and Lakota. We have our parents..."

"I got it. We have baby-sitters we don't have to pay," Caroline remarked with a laugh.

"How do we decide where to go?"

Tre smirked. "Throw a dart at a map."

"A map of America, right? I don't think we can afford to take a road trip to Prague."

Billie Joe snorted a little as the drummer nodded. "Yeah, this country. We pick a place at random and go there, no plans, no reservations. Just kinda pack up and go, maybe visit some cheesy landmarks along the way..."

The three of them looked at each other and smiled, all considering the prospect of the road trip.

"It actually sounds pretty fun," came Caroline's comment on the subject.

"Yeah," Billie Joe agreed as a 21-month-old Avarielle toddled over to her godfather and hugged his leg as she sucked on her cherry freezie-pop. He looked down and rested a hand against the back of her head of light brown curls and smiled before looking between Caroline and Tre. "Alright, so...where do we get the map?"