The Secrets of Billie Joe Armstrong

Billie's head snapped up and he looked at me. That was what he was doing, staring. He stepped closer to me.

"Me?" He asked.

"Yes," I explained, "is there somewhere... Private we can go?"

Billie's eyes searched mine, and something inside me jumped. My heart was pumping, and something in my mind clicked. He knows, I though.

"What's your accent?" He asked suddenly. It stunned me.

"Uh... Umm, French and American."

"American?" He asked, "what part?"

"Berkley, in Oakland."

"That's where I grew up."

"I know." I said, hoping he would show me to somewhere private, soon.

"You know?" He questioned, again looking me in the eyes. He raised his eyebrows, and I was determined that he knew. "How old are you?"

"I'm 41," I said softly, "and you're... 24?"

"How did you know?" He asked.

"Can we go somewhere private now, Billie Joe?"

"This is private. Anything you have to say you can say in front of these guys. Take a seat." He motioned to the long line of couches that were pressed up against the wall. I took a shaky breath.

"I... I think I know you more than you'd realise," I started, "because, thing is Billie... I... I'm your mother. Your biological mother."

He didn't flinch, he didn't convey any emotion. He just stared at a spot on the carpet in front of him. I couldn't read how he was feeling. He didn't let off any vibes. But when he looked up again I could just see a little sign of doubt.

"Do you have any... proof?" He asked.

I walked over to my bag that was lying on the carpet near the window. I removed the adoption papers and the photo, and took a seat next to him on the couch. I spread them out on my lap, and he reached for them, reading them intently.

I watched his every move, and then I saw a little tear form in his eye. I didn't expect him to cry. But he didn't, because it didn't slide out from his eye. I think it was just because of the pure shock. His arms wrapped around me and he hugged me, tight.

"Where's my father?" He asked as he pulled away.

"Andy... passed away. When you were still a baby, before you were born. That brings me to what I was going to say, the reason why I put you up for adoption. When your father died, I felt empty. And when you were born... I knew I couldn't give you what you deserved. I didn't want to do that to you, so I put you up for adoption, hoping you'd find some people that could love you and care for you better than I could."

I was so nervous, I hoped with everything I had that he'd understand. He didn't show any emotion.

"So, you're pregnant again?"

"Yes, I re married. I have another daughter, too. She came to see you tonight."

"And you live in France?"

"Paris, yes."

"Do they know about me?"

"No, no they don't."

His eyes flashed with hurt. I started to regret coming in a way. I didn't want to fuck up his life. I waited for him to respond, but he didn't. I sat there awkwardly.

"I'm sorry that I didn't contact you sooner," I explained, "but I couldn't bring myself to ruin anything you had going for you, and I wasn't sure if you wanted to see me..."

"It's okay." He said quietly.

For the first time ever, I looked at his friends, his band mates. Billie Joe followed my gaze and introduced them. They stared at me, dumbstruck.

"This here, is Tré," Billie said, gesturing to the chubby one with orange hair that asked me all the questions.

"Hello," I said politely, and Tré did the same back to me.

"And this is Mike."

"Hello," Mike said, and I replied with the same.

"So, what's you name?" Billie asked.

"Ollie. Well, Olivia now. It was Ollie."

"You changed it?"

"When I moved to France, yes. See just after I put you up for adoption my parents divorced and my mother took me to New York. But she deserted me in the airport, so eventually I moved to France by myself, met Mathieu... and now I'm here."

Billie and I spoke well into the morning, exchanging numbers and details about our lives. I was ecstatic. He didn't seem to despise me like I feared. He genuinely listened intently to me. When I left the next morning, I felt empty.

This was going to be harder than I realised.