Billie Joe's Third Son
That is not Billie Joe's son by any chance?
1989
I looked over to Billie where he laid in his bed, trying to sleep. His eyes were wide open. It was getting late, and he needed his sleep, he was only one year old after all. I had a feeling he didn't like Scotland as much as California. Poor boy.
"Honey, you have to try and get some sleep now," I whispered, and kissed his cheek. He looked up to me.
"Dadda," he said. "I dadda."
"I know you want dadda. But he's not here, he.. Just stop thinking about him. You won't see him again for a very long time," I lied. He just looked at me with big, sad eyes. They were the most green I'd ever seen. He turned around, as if he didn't want to look at me.
But I couldn't tell him. I couldn't tell him that Glen was his new 'dadda,' and that he probably never saw Billie again. He wouldn't understand.
I sighed, and got up. I decided to make myself a cup of coffee, and headed downstairs down.
"Hi honey," a familiar voice spoke when I entered the kitchen.
"Hi Mum," I replied. "Want some coffee?"
"Yes, please."
We didn't say more, and I started to make the coffee. I cought her staring out of the window. She looked fascinated. She liked Scotland. She'd just drove all the way from Norway to visit the 'little threesome' as she called us. I finished the coffee, got milk and sugar, and sat down. She grabbed the cup, and almost overfilled it with milk. Just like you mum.
"So, who's Billie's real dad?" said mum, breaking the silence. "He's obviously not Glen's."
"Look, mother.."
"I know I'm right. He doesn't look anything like Glen at all. Spit it out. Who's the secret father?" she said, cutting me off.
"You'd either hate me, or see me as a slut if I told you." I replied, taking a sip of my coffee. She smiled. Her blue eyes lit up, as they always did when she smiled.
"So he is American then. I had reason to believe he was."
"It's not just that. He is.. He is seventeen, Mum," I replied.
Did I make a mistake saying that? What would she think of me?
She looked at me.
"Regina, honey.." she said, and stroke her fingers through my long, blonde hair. "He must be happy though, being so young. He probably thinks he's lucky to get away with it, that bastard." I burst out crying.
"C'mere, honey, it's not your fault," she said. She left her chair, and when she came to me, she hugged me close. Her short, brown hair tickled my face.
"The.. The worst thing Mum, is that I think he does mind," I said. My voice were shaking from crying. She didn't reply. I continued. "I think he does care for him mother, I don't know how much. At first when I told him I was having his baby, he seemed to hate me and the kid. No one can blame him though, he was only fifteen back then. But I think that after he was born, he grew very fond of him." She let go of me, and looked at me for a while, as if she tried to figure out something.
"Honey, you're tired, it's obvious. Let me take the kid to Norway," she spoke.
"But Mum, he's my responsibility. And.. I would miss him so much," I replied.
"Well, Zandra's loving it up there, and she's so exited about meeting her little brother. Meanwhile you can concentrate more on this Glen, you need to build a strong relationship now, or never. You could have him in Christmas, summer, winter, whenever's he's got sparetime," she paused. "When he is starting school in the future." I nodded.
This was a good opportunity for my little boy, and Mum was right about me being tired. I also knew as though Zandra loved it up there, she would never be able to leave. I prayed my son would love it up there just as much as her. I then heard Billie crying. I got up, but Mum stopped me.
"Let me take him this time honey," she said. She came down again, after a while, when Billie had stopped crying.
"What's up with him?" I asked, concerned he was still going on about his 'dadda.'
"He can't seem to find his favorite toy."
*
California 2003
I searched through my closet to find something decent to wear. Adie was still asleep, and I tried my best not waking her up. I also succeed.
"Damn clothes," I said to myself, finding some random white t-shirt and some simple blacks pants to put on. I hated clothes. I think I had too many. Still there was space enough in our closet to hide a monster in there. I freaked out thinking of it, and decided to get the hell out of there. I went downstairs finding Joseph awake, playing PS2.
"Hi little man," I said and kissed his cheek. "You had anything to eat yet?" He shook his head, not taking his eyes of the screen.
"Kids," I thought, and headed for the kitchen, when I heard the front door open. I turned around to see Mum.
"Billie Joe," she spoke. She looked tired. In her hands she held a box.
"There are more of these in the car," she spoke again. "Come on and help me carry them. You too, Joseph, you can carry the little ones." Joseph pretended he didn't hear her, and continued playing.
"What's all this?" I asked, following her outside.
"This, Billie Joe, is all your old clothes and things. I've been tidying and cleaning the attick as it needed it. Now put this stuff in your own attick, or trash it. I don't care either way."
"I can't trash it, too many memories with this lot."
"Whatever you prefer honey," she replied. I nodded, got out, and carried box after box to our attick.
"Dad, what's going on? Is Grandma moving in with us?" Joseph said when we were almost done.
"No, sweetheart," said Mum laughing. "I'm just giving your father's old things back to him as my very own attick is over loaded with stuff." She sat down on the couch beside him.
"Billie, I think you can handle the rest. There might be one or two boxes left." I nodded and headed outside again. Mum was right. There was one box left. And there was something familiar with this one.
"I recognize you," I spoke to myself. It was the most precious box mum had brought. It was the one and only box with pictures of me and my first son. I think there was some clothes of his, may be even toys in there too. I didn't really want to look back at all the memories, but I had to open it. I undid the tape, and read my anxious handwriting.
'Billie Joe Armstrong the second' it said. I opened it, and put my hand inside it. I dragged out loads of baby clothes and photo's.
While searching the box for different stuff, my hand came across something spiky. Something weird, something.. I grabbed it to take a look. In my hands I held Billie's favorite toy.
*
Oakland
"Kids, me and Dad's going out, don't do anything stupid, and don't go anywhere!" Mum told Antonia and Michael.
"Joey," she said, entering the bathroom. "What are you doing in here?"
"I was just about to pee, then you showed up," I lied. The reason I was in there, was surpsrisingly not drugs. The ecstasies burnt holes in my pocket, and I felt as if I needed them right away.
"Sorry to disturbe you then. Look, me and Glen are going shopping, stay here and look after the twins." I nodded. "And please don't go anywhere. This is not Glasgow." I nodded again. All I wanted was for her to leave as soon as possible, so I could take the pills in peace.
"Mum I wanna come." Michael was in the doorway.
"Alright Michael, get dressed," she replied, and they both disappeared.
'Finally,' I thought, and searched my pockets for the few pills that were left. I heard Glen shut the door in the hallway. They were gone. I swallowed the first pill, remembering the first time Glen abused me. I took another. I didn't want to think back. I wanted to forget all about it. But my mind wouldn't let me..
Flashback
I missed Norway like a burning hell. Why did Grandpa have to die? At school we had maths. I loved maths. It's what I did best at school. I'd never imagine seventh grade maths being so easy. I suddenly felt slightly alone. All of the other kids knew someone. I didn't. I didn't even speak Scottish as well as them, even though I used to go here every sparetime we had. I hardly spoke English. Mum and I always spoke Norwegian with one another, but she said we had to speak Scottish now that I was going to live here. I had to be good at it, she said. I hated her at the moment. She'd made me leave Norway, the place I missed and loved.
"Grandma needs to be alone now that Grandpa's gone," she'd said. "She'll get tired of you hanging around her all the time."
I missed Johnny too. I missed everyone, and everything. Mum said that Glen was my new father now, seeing as though I looked at Grandpa as my Dad. I didn't want a new father. I wanted Grandpa. Mum'd actually never told me who my real father was. The bell rang. We were done for today.
*
I used half an hour getting home. Mum was cooking dinner, and the twins, which were now eight, were watching a cartoon movie.
"Hi sweetie," Mum said. "How was your first day at school?"
"Boring," I replied. I heard my voice, replaying in my head. 'Borrrring.' I'd never speak English properly. Michael laughed.
"You suck on speaking Scottish," he said. He laughed again. I hated him for saying that.
"No, I don't," I said, even though I knew I did. "Shut up or I'll kick your teeth in."
"Joey, we need to have a little chat, you and I. Go to your room, I'll be along any minute," Mum said with her perfect, Scottish dialect. Being the good kid I used to be, I obeyed, and made my way up to my new room.
*
I'd told Mum about how I felt about being here and how I felt about Glen being my new father. She said I had to give him a chance, so I decided I'd speak with him as soon as Mum took the twins to go shopping. She did that after half an hour, and told me to be kind and gentle to Glen, seeing as though he might wouldn't be satisfied with it. I decided I'd go for it. I knew Glen would be downstairs, reading today's newspaper, or watching the news on television. I headed for the staircase, trying to be as quiet as possible, walking down.
From behind him, I saw his thick, brown hair, hangning from his head. His brown eyes were glued to the TV, and he didn't seem to notice me at all.
"Hi," I said shyly. He turned around, and looked right in me green eyes.
"Hi Joey," Glen said and smiled. "Anything I can do for you?" I looked at him. Brown sweather, and blue pants. He looked like an old man. Not like Grandpa though. At least Grandpa had style.
"I need to speak with you. It's urgent," I replied. He nodded, grabbed the remote, and switched off the TV.
"Sit down, Joey," he spoke. I obeyed, and sat down. Why was I being nervous? Nothing was gonna happen..
He suddenly smiled again. He seemed nice.
"You're getting better and better at speaking Scottish," he spoke. "Much better than last summer."
"Thanks," I replied, and blushed. Stupid red cheeks. I always blushed when someone gave me compliments.
"But I guess that's not what you came to hear. Speak up kid," he said. I took a deep breath.
"I'm not sure if I'm ready for you to be my father yet," I said. He gave me this weird look, this.. Angry look? I wasn't sure.
"What?" he said. His tone had changed.
"I'm not sure if I'm ready for you to.." I spoke again, but he cut me off.
"No, what?" I sighed.
"Glen, I already told you. Almost twice."
"That's enough. I'm trying my best here! Stupid kid," he said. He was definitely angry. It scared me. Would mum be coming home soon?
"Get up." he said. Scared as I was, I didn't refuse.
"Stupid kid," he mumbled. He started to unzip his pants. It didn't take long for him to undo mine too..
*
I sighed as the memory flashed through my head. I didn't want to take it further.
What were you thinking Glen, taking advantage of an eleven year old kid? I sighed again, and searched my pockets for the piercing Don had given me. I had made a desicion. My lip was going to be pierced, by myself. I had to be careful though, seeing as though I didn't want to end up cutting it of, if it was possible that was.
I took a needle from Mum's map.
*
I slammed the door when I came out of the bathroom. Antonia was sitting in the sofa, watching TV.
"Hi Toni," I said. She looked sick. I felt her forehead.
"Are you sick, honey?" Did I just call Antonia 'honey?'
"Joey, I need to talk to you. It's been bugging me since I found out, and even though I promised not to tell, I need to get it off my chest. What's that on your lip, by the way?" I sat down.
"Never mind, talk," I spoke.
"It's about.."
"....Billie Joe Armstrong and his band Green Day are now making a new record, seeing as though Cigarettes & Valentines have been stolen.."
*
I looked at Joey. Had he noticed what they'd been saying on television? No, I didn't think so. His eyes were fixed upon me, not the stupid old TV.
"What? It's about what?" he spoke.
"I think I'm gonna.. I'm gonna throw up," I replied and ran to the bathroom.
*
I heard Antonia throw up in the bathroom. Yuk. I couldn't get through to her, what was bugging the kid? She came out again, when she was done, and mumbled something about me getting her a bucket. I nodded, and headed down to the reception.
The woman behind the counter, smiled at me.
"What can I do for you sir?" she spoke.
"I need a bucket. To room 367." I replied.
"Fine, would you like us to bring it up?"
"I'd like that," I said. I knew I was being cruel to Antonia, but I couldn't stand being in that hotelroom anymore. I had to get out.
*
Billie Joe's POV
Mike and I had decided to visit Tré, in Oakland this very hot day. I looked at Mike, who were driving. His eyes weren't fixed upon the road anymore, he was obviously looking at something else. He suddenly drove off the main road, and switched of the engine.
"What's up?" I asked. Whatever was bugging the guy, it seemed urgent.
"I need it, I need it. I need it NOW!" Mike yelled.
"Calm down Mike. Need what?"
"Coffee," he replied with a huge grin. Oh right. He'd stopped the car outside Starbucks.
"I should have known," I said laughing. "I'll wait for you in the car."
*
Joey's POV
I loved the coffee here at Starbucks. I hardly drank coffee, but felt like it now. I saw a very tall guy getting out of a car outside, two minutes later he entered the store. Tall, blonde, with blue eyes. Definitely a favorite with the girls.
"One coffee, please," the guy ordered. He seemed familiar.
Where have I seen him before?
Oh right. He was that guy in Green Day Antonia kept going on about. He payed for his coffee, and was just about to return to his car, when he saw me. He smiled, and came towards me. He sat down, just as we'd known eachother as long as we'd lived.
"Holy fuck Billie, I don't know how you made that. How'd you get in here so quick, without me seeing ya?" What was he on about?
"How do you know my name?" I asked. He laughed.
"Come on Billie, that was too harsh." I felt annoyed with the guy. Wasn't he supposed to be famous, not caring about normal civilized people? He suddenly ran his finger through me long, red hair.
"Holy fuck Bill." He was now whispering.
"This wig looks so real. And it's beautiful too. Where'd you get it? And that weird accent.. That thing in your lip.."
I suddenly remembered those two girls on 7/11. My hair was no wig, no wonder it looked real!
"Leave me alone," I half yelled, pushing him hand away.
"Sorry," he said. It looked like he didn't know what to believe.
"I think you've confused me with someone else. My hair is no wig," I muttered. He scanned me.
"You're Billie, aren't you? I swear you look just like him," he spoke.
"My name is Billie yes, but probably not the Billie you think I am," I replied. He looked at me again, but this time is seemed like he was trying to figure something out.
"Billie..?" he asked.
"..Joe Armstrong," I finished for him. His eyes widened. He suddenly looked nervous.
"Look dude, I'm sorry about your hair and everything, but I really have to go now," he said. He gave me one more look, then ran out in a hurry. I shrugged, and looked over to his cup of coffee. He hadn't touched it.
*
That was not who I think it was, I thought, making my way back to the car. I got in and closed the door. I breathed heavily after the run. I could see Billie rolling his eyes. Infact, I couldn't see it, I could feel it. I couldn't face him, not now. Not after what I'd just seen.
"What happened? Those teenie girls hunting ya again?" I didn't reply. I didn't even look at him. Scottish accent. Green eyes. Billie's face, his name for God's sake! Was Regina in California? Why hadn't she contacted Billie? I had no answers, but I knew one thing for sure. It had been fourteen years but I had just met Billie Joe Armstrong the second.
I looked over to Billie where he laid in his bed, trying to sleep. His eyes were wide open. It was getting late, and he needed his sleep, he was only one year old after all. I had a feeling he didn't like Scotland as much as California. Poor boy.
"Honey, you have to try and get some sleep now," I whispered, and kissed his cheek. He looked up to me.
"Dadda," he said. "I dadda."
"I know you want dadda. But he's not here, he.. Just stop thinking about him. You won't see him again for a very long time," I lied. He just looked at me with big, sad eyes. They were the most green I'd ever seen. He turned around, as if he didn't want to look at me.
But I couldn't tell him. I couldn't tell him that Glen was his new 'dadda,' and that he probably never saw Billie again. He wouldn't understand.
I sighed, and got up. I decided to make myself a cup of coffee, and headed downstairs down.
"Hi honey," a familiar voice spoke when I entered the kitchen.
"Hi Mum," I replied. "Want some coffee?"
"Yes, please."
We didn't say more, and I started to make the coffee. I cought her staring out of the window. She looked fascinated. She liked Scotland. She'd just drove all the way from Norway to visit the 'little threesome' as she called us. I finished the coffee, got milk and sugar, and sat down. She grabbed the cup, and almost overfilled it with milk. Just like you mum.
"So, who's Billie's real dad?" said mum, breaking the silence. "He's obviously not Glen's."
"Look, mother.."
"I know I'm right. He doesn't look anything like Glen at all. Spit it out. Who's the secret father?" she said, cutting me off.
"You'd either hate me, or see me as a slut if I told you." I replied, taking a sip of my coffee. She smiled. Her blue eyes lit up, as they always did when she smiled.
"So he is American then. I had reason to believe he was."
"It's not just that. He is.. He is seventeen, Mum," I replied.
Did I make a mistake saying that? What would she think of me?
She looked at me.
"Regina, honey.." she said, and stroke her fingers through my long, blonde hair. "He must be happy though, being so young. He probably thinks he's lucky to get away with it, that bastard." I burst out crying.
"C'mere, honey, it's not your fault," she said. She left her chair, and when she came to me, she hugged me close. Her short, brown hair tickled my face.
"The.. The worst thing Mum, is that I think he does mind," I said. My voice were shaking from crying. She didn't reply. I continued. "I think he does care for him mother, I don't know how much. At first when I told him I was having his baby, he seemed to hate me and the kid. No one can blame him though, he was only fifteen back then. But I think that after he was born, he grew very fond of him." She let go of me, and looked at me for a while, as if she tried to figure out something.
"Honey, you're tired, it's obvious. Let me take the kid to Norway," she spoke.
"But Mum, he's my responsibility. And.. I would miss him so much," I replied.
"Well, Zandra's loving it up there, and she's so exited about meeting her little brother. Meanwhile you can concentrate more on this Glen, you need to build a strong relationship now, or never. You could have him in Christmas, summer, winter, whenever's he's got sparetime," she paused. "When he is starting school in the future." I nodded.
This was a good opportunity for my little boy, and Mum was right about me being tired. I also knew as though Zandra loved it up there, she would never be able to leave. I prayed my son would love it up there just as much as her. I then heard Billie crying. I got up, but Mum stopped me.
"Let me take him this time honey," she said. She came down again, after a while, when Billie had stopped crying.
"What's up with him?" I asked, concerned he was still going on about his 'dadda.'
"He can't seem to find his favorite toy."
*
California 2003
I searched through my closet to find something decent to wear. Adie was still asleep, and I tried my best not waking her up. I also succeed.
"Damn clothes," I said to myself, finding some random white t-shirt and some simple blacks pants to put on. I hated clothes. I think I had too many. Still there was space enough in our closet to hide a monster in there. I freaked out thinking of it, and decided to get the hell out of there. I went downstairs finding Joseph awake, playing PS2.
"Hi little man," I said and kissed his cheek. "You had anything to eat yet?" He shook his head, not taking his eyes of the screen.
"Kids," I thought, and headed for the kitchen, when I heard the front door open. I turned around to see Mum.
"Billie Joe," she spoke. She looked tired. In her hands she held a box.
"There are more of these in the car," she spoke again. "Come on and help me carry them. You too, Joseph, you can carry the little ones." Joseph pretended he didn't hear her, and continued playing.
"What's all this?" I asked, following her outside.
"This, Billie Joe, is all your old clothes and things. I've been tidying and cleaning the attick as it needed it. Now put this stuff in your own attick, or trash it. I don't care either way."
"I can't trash it, too many memories with this lot."
"Whatever you prefer honey," she replied. I nodded, got out, and carried box after box to our attick.
"Dad, what's going on? Is Grandma moving in with us?" Joseph said when we were almost done.
"No, sweetheart," said Mum laughing. "I'm just giving your father's old things back to him as my very own attick is over loaded with stuff." She sat down on the couch beside him.
"Billie, I think you can handle the rest. There might be one or two boxes left." I nodded and headed outside again. Mum was right. There was one box left. And there was something familiar with this one.
"I recognize you," I spoke to myself. It was the most precious box mum had brought. It was the one and only box with pictures of me and my first son. I think there was some clothes of his, may be even toys in there too. I didn't really want to look back at all the memories, but I had to open it. I undid the tape, and read my anxious handwriting.
'Billie Joe Armstrong the second' it said. I opened it, and put my hand inside it. I dragged out loads of baby clothes and photo's.
While searching the box for different stuff, my hand came across something spiky. Something weird, something.. I grabbed it to take a look. In my hands I held Billie's favorite toy.
*
Oakland
"Kids, me and Dad's going out, don't do anything stupid, and don't go anywhere!" Mum told Antonia and Michael.
"Joey," she said, entering the bathroom. "What are you doing in here?"
"I was just about to pee, then you showed up," I lied. The reason I was in there, was surpsrisingly not drugs. The ecstasies burnt holes in my pocket, and I felt as if I needed them right away.
"Sorry to disturbe you then. Look, me and Glen are going shopping, stay here and look after the twins." I nodded. "And please don't go anywhere. This is not Glasgow." I nodded again. All I wanted was for her to leave as soon as possible, so I could take the pills in peace.
"Mum I wanna come." Michael was in the doorway.
"Alright Michael, get dressed," she replied, and they both disappeared.
'Finally,' I thought, and searched my pockets for the few pills that were left. I heard Glen shut the door in the hallway. They were gone. I swallowed the first pill, remembering the first time Glen abused me. I took another. I didn't want to think back. I wanted to forget all about it. But my mind wouldn't let me..
Flashback
I missed Norway like a burning hell. Why did Grandpa have to die? At school we had maths. I loved maths. It's what I did best at school. I'd never imagine seventh grade maths being so easy. I suddenly felt slightly alone. All of the other kids knew someone. I didn't. I didn't even speak Scottish as well as them, even though I used to go here every sparetime we had. I hardly spoke English. Mum and I always spoke Norwegian with one another, but she said we had to speak Scottish now that I was going to live here. I had to be good at it, she said. I hated her at the moment. She'd made me leave Norway, the place I missed and loved.
"Grandma needs to be alone now that Grandpa's gone," she'd said. "She'll get tired of you hanging around her all the time."
I missed Johnny too. I missed everyone, and everything. Mum said that Glen was my new father now, seeing as though I looked at Grandpa as my Dad. I didn't want a new father. I wanted Grandpa. Mum'd actually never told me who my real father was. The bell rang. We were done for today.
*
I used half an hour getting home. Mum was cooking dinner, and the twins, which were now eight, were watching a cartoon movie.
"Hi sweetie," Mum said. "How was your first day at school?"
"Boring," I replied. I heard my voice, replaying in my head. 'Borrrring.' I'd never speak English properly. Michael laughed.
"You suck on speaking Scottish," he said. He laughed again. I hated him for saying that.
"No, I don't," I said, even though I knew I did. "Shut up or I'll kick your teeth in."
"Joey, we need to have a little chat, you and I. Go to your room, I'll be along any minute," Mum said with her perfect, Scottish dialect. Being the good kid I used to be, I obeyed, and made my way up to my new room.
*
I'd told Mum about how I felt about being here and how I felt about Glen being my new father. She said I had to give him a chance, so I decided I'd speak with him as soon as Mum took the twins to go shopping. She did that after half an hour, and told me to be kind and gentle to Glen, seeing as though he might wouldn't be satisfied with it. I decided I'd go for it. I knew Glen would be downstairs, reading today's newspaper, or watching the news on television. I headed for the staircase, trying to be as quiet as possible, walking down.
From behind him, I saw his thick, brown hair, hangning from his head. His brown eyes were glued to the TV, and he didn't seem to notice me at all.
"Hi," I said shyly. He turned around, and looked right in me green eyes.
"Hi Joey," Glen said and smiled. "Anything I can do for you?" I looked at him. Brown sweather, and blue pants. He looked like an old man. Not like Grandpa though. At least Grandpa had style.
"I need to speak with you. It's urgent," I replied. He nodded, grabbed the remote, and switched off the TV.
"Sit down, Joey," he spoke. I obeyed, and sat down. Why was I being nervous? Nothing was gonna happen..
He suddenly smiled again. He seemed nice.
"You're getting better and better at speaking Scottish," he spoke. "Much better than last summer."
"Thanks," I replied, and blushed. Stupid red cheeks. I always blushed when someone gave me compliments.
"But I guess that's not what you came to hear. Speak up kid," he said. I took a deep breath.
"I'm not sure if I'm ready for you to be my father yet," I said. He gave me this weird look, this.. Angry look? I wasn't sure.
"What?" he said. His tone had changed.
"I'm not sure if I'm ready for you to.." I spoke again, but he cut me off.
"No, what?" I sighed.
"Glen, I already told you. Almost twice."
"That's enough. I'm trying my best here! Stupid kid," he said. He was definitely angry. It scared me. Would mum be coming home soon?
"Get up." he said. Scared as I was, I didn't refuse.
"Stupid kid," he mumbled. He started to unzip his pants. It didn't take long for him to undo mine too..
*
I sighed as the memory flashed through my head. I didn't want to take it further.
What were you thinking Glen, taking advantage of an eleven year old kid? I sighed again, and searched my pockets for the piercing Don had given me. I had made a desicion. My lip was going to be pierced, by myself. I had to be careful though, seeing as though I didn't want to end up cutting it of, if it was possible that was.
I took a needle from Mum's map.
*
I slammed the door when I came out of the bathroom. Antonia was sitting in the sofa, watching TV.
"Hi Toni," I said. She looked sick. I felt her forehead.
"Are you sick, honey?" Did I just call Antonia 'honey?'
"Joey, I need to talk to you. It's been bugging me since I found out, and even though I promised not to tell, I need to get it off my chest. What's that on your lip, by the way?" I sat down.
"Never mind, talk," I spoke.
"It's about.."
"....Billie Joe Armstrong and his band Green Day are now making a new record, seeing as though Cigarettes & Valentines have been stolen.."
*
I looked at Joey. Had he noticed what they'd been saying on television? No, I didn't think so. His eyes were fixed upon me, not the stupid old TV.
"What? It's about what?" he spoke.
"I think I'm gonna.. I'm gonna throw up," I replied and ran to the bathroom.
*
I heard Antonia throw up in the bathroom. Yuk. I couldn't get through to her, what was bugging the kid? She came out again, when she was done, and mumbled something about me getting her a bucket. I nodded, and headed down to the reception.
The woman behind the counter, smiled at me.
"What can I do for you sir?" she spoke.
"I need a bucket. To room 367." I replied.
"Fine, would you like us to bring it up?"
"I'd like that," I said. I knew I was being cruel to Antonia, but I couldn't stand being in that hotelroom anymore. I had to get out.
*
Billie Joe's POV
Mike and I had decided to visit Tré, in Oakland this very hot day. I looked at Mike, who were driving. His eyes weren't fixed upon the road anymore, he was obviously looking at something else. He suddenly drove off the main road, and switched of the engine.
"What's up?" I asked. Whatever was bugging the guy, it seemed urgent.
"I need it, I need it. I need it NOW!" Mike yelled.
"Calm down Mike. Need what?"
"Coffee," he replied with a huge grin. Oh right. He'd stopped the car outside Starbucks.
"I should have known," I said laughing. "I'll wait for you in the car."
*
Joey's POV
I loved the coffee here at Starbucks. I hardly drank coffee, but felt like it now. I saw a very tall guy getting out of a car outside, two minutes later he entered the store. Tall, blonde, with blue eyes. Definitely a favorite with the girls.
"One coffee, please," the guy ordered. He seemed familiar.
Where have I seen him before?
Oh right. He was that guy in Green Day Antonia kept going on about. He payed for his coffee, and was just about to return to his car, when he saw me. He smiled, and came towards me. He sat down, just as we'd known eachother as long as we'd lived.
"Holy fuck Billie, I don't know how you made that. How'd you get in here so quick, without me seeing ya?" What was he on about?
"How do you know my name?" I asked. He laughed.
"Come on Billie, that was too harsh." I felt annoyed with the guy. Wasn't he supposed to be famous, not caring about normal civilized people? He suddenly ran his finger through me long, red hair.
"Holy fuck Bill." He was now whispering.
"This wig looks so real. And it's beautiful too. Where'd you get it? And that weird accent.. That thing in your lip.."
I suddenly remembered those two girls on 7/11. My hair was no wig, no wonder it looked real!
"Leave me alone," I half yelled, pushing him hand away.
"Sorry," he said. It looked like he didn't know what to believe.
"I think you've confused me with someone else. My hair is no wig," I muttered. He scanned me.
"You're Billie, aren't you? I swear you look just like him," he spoke.
"My name is Billie yes, but probably not the Billie you think I am," I replied. He looked at me again, but this time is seemed like he was trying to figure something out.
"Billie..?" he asked.
"..Joe Armstrong," I finished for him. His eyes widened. He suddenly looked nervous.
"Look dude, I'm sorry about your hair and everything, but I really have to go now," he said. He gave me one more look, then ran out in a hurry. I shrugged, and looked over to his cup of coffee. He hadn't touched it.
*
That was not who I think it was, I thought, making my way back to the car. I got in and closed the door. I breathed heavily after the run. I could see Billie rolling his eyes. Infact, I couldn't see it, I could feel it. I couldn't face him, not now. Not after what I'd just seen.
"What happened? Those teenie girls hunting ya again?" I didn't reply. I didn't even look at him. Scottish accent. Green eyes. Billie's face, his name for God's sake! Was Regina in California? Why hadn't she contacted Billie? I had no answers, but I knew one thing for sure. It had been fourteen years but I had just met Billie Joe Armstrong the second.