Billie Joe's Third Son
Pff
I lighted a cigarette, thinking how lucky I was. I had found what I had been looking for the last fourteen years, and it felt good getting it overwith and done. I no longer had to wonder about where Billie was, what he looked like, what he was like..
He was, however, like a cat, waiting to scratch my eyes out. He didn't seem to like me a lot. Thinking again, it had to be weird and new for him. And Mike was right. He was a younger version of me, though he didn't have my hair colour. His was red. The very red colour.
I sighted, stumping my cigarette, seeing Tré's car drive up in the driveway of the airport.
What is he doing here?
The car stopped, and the driver, which obviously was Tré, came out of it. He looked around a little bit before seeing me. A huge grin spread across his face. I didn't like that grin. I knew what was coming.
He came towards me, and for each step he took, the feeling of wanting to run away from him, or dig a hole in the ground and hide, grew stronger. Tré was an expert making people tell him the newest 'gossip,' and I was probably his easiest gossip victim. He almost found a way to make me tell.
"Hey BJ," he said, when he was finally by my side.
"Hi."
"You look down buddy. Someone on your mind?"
"Tré.."
"Dude, I can't believe you had a kid and didn't tell me."
"What are you doing here?" I said, not answering to his sayings. I wanted to change the subject. But Tré, however, always came up with something clever, so there was no point in trying really. But still..
"Have to say goodbye to mini BJ," Tré replied, still grinning.
Mini BJ, I thought, lighting another cigarette. Tré was watching me intense. Every move I made, every drag of the cigarette I took, every thought I was thinking..
"Where is he anyway?" Tré suddenly asked.
"They're checking in," I mumbled. Tré nodded.
"So.. Why didn't you tell me?" he asked.
"Because.."
Because I didn't want you to know. Because I didn't really trust you at the time. Because I was trying to get over it..
But I remained speechless, not knowing what to say. I couldn't say what I was thinking.
"Adie must of flipped when she found out." Tré was trying to push the limits. He probably wanted the whole story, edited.
"Well, she didn't. She just said.. She just asked.. No, never mind."
"And how did you meet that pretty lady anyway? You were sixteen, and what was she?"
"Twentyfour," I mumbled.
"I knew she was older than you Bee Jay! You've always had something for the older women and the younger me.."
"I don't want to talk about it Tré, is that too much to ask?!" I almost yelled. I was sick of his sniffing around. Sick of his questions, sick of this gossip detector. What was in it for him anyway? None stop access to candyshops?
In reply, Tré shut up, and shook his head.
"But I'm still gonna say goodbye to mini Bee Jay!" he said, pretending to be hurt, then disappeared through the entrace. I sighed again, following him inside. I knew that sooner or later, the questions would pop up again.
*
The girlie chat was most definitely the most exiting that'd happened to me on the entire California vacation. Cock sizes, dildo's, how they liked sex and what turned them on wasn't even the first name of what them girls were chatting about. What were they doing out there anyway? Washing their hands a zillion times, just to make sure they had no germs on them? I decided to take a look, and bowed down to see under the door. They were doing none of it. They were doing their make up. Should of guessed. Suddenly the door which lead out of the toilets opened. I quickly sat up on the toilet again, my feet into my chest, making sure no one saw me.
"Did any of you girls puke right outside this door?" a male voice said.
Oh shit.
I prayed they didn't check the toilet stalls to "find out" who did it. This girlie chat was too good an oppertunity to miss. And anyway. If they saw me in here I'd be dead meat.
"No, no," the girls replied at the same time, and the door closed. They then started to talk about some magazine. I was saved. Saved from the airport guard ordering me to clean it up. Saved from..
"Melissa, I have to pee," one of the girls suddenly said, breaking of the magazine talk. I heard steps coming closer and closer towards the door. Towards where I was.
Oh shit. I didn't lock the door, did I?
I didn't bother waiting for her to find it out, but flew up to lock it, just before she entered the little "room."
"Who's in there?" she asked. They obviously thought they had been alone. I cleared my throat, getting ready to speak with a girl's voice, while thinking of what to say. But before I had the chance, the door flew open. Oh well. Busted. I had unlocked the door. Damn me.
"Melissa, it's a boy in here," she said, not angry, neither nervous. I looked at her. Dyed, blonde hair. Blue, sparkling eyes. Tiny waist and big boobs. Oh wait. This chick, was familiar. I knew her. I should of guessed. They had Scotish accent. Not American. Scotish.
Melissa came, saw me and screamed. She was the brown haired one. Melissa, the brown haired. I almost giggled with the thought, but kept my mouth shut.
"You are the dude on 7/11," said the blonde haired one.
"Boy in the girls room!" Melissa screamed, running off somewhere. The blonde one looked after her for several seconds, before looking back to me. She looked at me for what seemed like hours, not saying anything. I didn't speak either, just glared back. I didn't know what to say, 'cause I didn't really understand girls. I had never been in a real relationship with a girl before, I had spent most of my time sucking up to Tom with other men. I had slept with girls, sure. But when it came to an awkward silence like this, or speaking with them, I had no idea what to say. I wanted her to take her pick, and run after Melissa.
"We met your Dad on the airport when we arrived," she suddenly said. Wait, how did she know Billie was me father? May be she was on about Glen. May be she was a stalker or something, or else she wouldn't of known.
"No, I'm not talking about your stepfather," she said, like she'd been reading my thoughts.
"How do you know?" I stuttered. It wasn't as if Da.. Billie knew those girls, was it? May be they were relatives, or may be he had said something to them which made them believe their own made up story. Thinking again, it wasn't just "made up." But still..
"Well," she replied. "You obviously heard our chat, and right before Melissa had to pee, we were talking about this magazine."
She handed me a magazine named 'People.' I remembered it. It had the same title as the magazine she had bought the day I first met her. The headline, however, almost made me scream.
"Billie Joe has three sons?" it said. There was a picture of me, and another picture of Billie right beside me. Me. On the cover of People. How did they find out anyway? I had only met him like two days ago, wasn't it? I opened the magazine, 'cause I would most definitely find out reading it.
The drummer of Green Day, Tré Cool, has now exclaimed Billie Joe Armstrong, frontman of Green Day, has three sons. He exclaims Scotish fifteen year old boy, Joey Armstrong is his third son. Seeing how much Joey looks like Billie Joe..
I handed the magazine back to her. I didn't want to read no more. So, this Lighter, was it? Had told the world about me being Billie Joe Armstrong's son. Did Billie know? Did Mum know? Coming back to Scotland wasn't gonna be easy now. I swallowed the lump I had in my throat. I wanted to dig a deep, dark, hole, screaming my anger, pain and fear out on the top of my lungs. I then catched the blonde haired one staring at me. When I looked at her, it was obvious what she had in mind. Lust. I could see it glowing out of her like the smoke out of the pipes on a factory. She bowed down to my level, where I was sitting on the toilet.
"It must be hard for you dealing with all of this," she said, her voice had suddenly changed. She was now speaking in a very sweet voice.
"Sure is," I replied. I couldn't help but lust back at her. She was gorgerous. And she had big boobs. Probably filled with silicon.
"Do you need some cheering up?" she asked, still in that sweet voice of hers. I couldn't help myself anymore. My erection was hard as a rock. She smiled sweetly, and placed herself on top of me..
*
Getting out of the toilet stall when we had finished, she hung on my shoulders constantly, giggling. I knew she wanted to go furter with me than just sex, which meant I had to make my move quickly.
"Look babe. Why don't you go fetch Melissa? She can be anywhere just now."
She stopped giggling, and walked to the outside door, where she stopped. She turned around, came back to me and threw her arms around my neck, me not knowing what else to do than to hug her back.
"Wait here," she whispered. I nodded. She smiled and kissed me cheek before leaving the toilets. I followed her outside them, it was the girl's room after all, and watched her leave. When she was out of sight, I went to find my family. I smiled. I might of let that bitch down, but we both got what we wanted.
She, a rockstar's son, and I, an easy fuck.
He was, however, like a cat, waiting to scratch my eyes out. He didn't seem to like me a lot. Thinking again, it had to be weird and new for him. And Mike was right. He was a younger version of me, though he didn't have my hair colour. His was red. The very red colour.
I sighted, stumping my cigarette, seeing Tré's car drive up in the driveway of the airport.
What is he doing here?
The car stopped, and the driver, which obviously was Tré, came out of it. He looked around a little bit before seeing me. A huge grin spread across his face. I didn't like that grin. I knew what was coming.
He came towards me, and for each step he took, the feeling of wanting to run away from him, or dig a hole in the ground and hide, grew stronger. Tré was an expert making people tell him the newest 'gossip,' and I was probably his easiest gossip victim. He almost found a way to make me tell.
"Hey BJ," he said, when he was finally by my side.
"Hi."
"You look down buddy. Someone on your mind?"
"Tré.."
"Dude, I can't believe you had a kid and didn't tell me."
"What are you doing here?" I said, not answering to his sayings. I wanted to change the subject. But Tré, however, always came up with something clever, so there was no point in trying really. But still..
"Have to say goodbye to mini BJ," Tré replied, still grinning.
Mini BJ, I thought, lighting another cigarette. Tré was watching me intense. Every move I made, every drag of the cigarette I took, every thought I was thinking..
"Where is he anyway?" Tré suddenly asked.
"They're checking in," I mumbled. Tré nodded.
"So.. Why didn't you tell me?" he asked.
"Because.."
Because I didn't want you to know. Because I didn't really trust you at the time. Because I was trying to get over it..
But I remained speechless, not knowing what to say. I couldn't say what I was thinking.
"Adie must of flipped when she found out." Tré was trying to push the limits. He probably wanted the whole story, edited.
"Well, she didn't. She just said.. She just asked.. No, never mind."
"And how did you meet that pretty lady anyway? You were sixteen, and what was she?"
"Twentyfour," I mumbled.
"I knew she was older than you Bee Jay! You've always had something for the older women and the younger me.."
"I don't want to talk about it Tré, is that too much to ask?!" I almost yelled. I was sick of his sniffing around. Sick of his questions, sick of this gossip detector. What was in it for him anyway? None stop access to candyshops?
In reply, Tré shut up, and shook his head.
"But I'm still gonna say goodbye to mini Bee Jay!" he said, pretending to be hurt, then disappeared through the entrace. I sighed again, following him inside. I knew that sooner or later, the questions would pop up again.
*
The girlie chat was most definitely the most exiting that'd happened to me on the entire California vacation. Cock sizes, dildo's, how they liked sex and what turned them on wasn't even the first name of what them girls were chatting about. What were they doing out there anyway? Washing their hands a zillion times, just to make sure they had no germs on them? I decided to take a look, and bowed down to see under the door. They were doing none of it. They were doing their make up. Should of guessed. Suddenly the door which lead out of the toilets opened. I quickly sat up on the toilet again, my feet into my chest, making sure no one saw me.
"Did any of you girls puke right outside this door?" a male voice said.
Oh shit.
I prayed they didn't check the toilet stalls to "find out" who did it. This girlie chat was too good an oppertunity to miss. And anyway. If they saw me in here I'd be dead meat.
"No, no," the girls replied at the same time, and the door closed. They then started to talk about some magazine. I was saved. Saved from the airport guard ordering me to clean it up. Saved from..
"Melissa, I have to pee," one of the girls suddenly said, breaking of the magazine talk. I heard steps coming closer and closer towards the door. Towards where I was.
Oh shit. I didn't lock the door, did I?
I didn't bother waiting for her to find it out, but flew up to lock it, just before she entered the little "room."
"Who's in there?" she asked. They obviously thought they had been alone. I cleared my throat, getting ready to speak with a girl's voice, while thinking of what to say. But before I had the chance, the door flew open. Oh well. Busted. I had unlocked the door. Damn me.
"Melissa, it's a boy in here," she said, not angry, neither nervous. I looked at her. Dyed, blonde hair. Blue, sparkling eyes. Tiny waist and big boobs. Oh wait. This chick, was familiar. I knew her. I should of guessed. They had Scotish accent. Not American. Scotish.
Melissa came, saw me and screamed. She was the brown haired one. Melissa, the brown haired. I almost giggled with the thought, but kept my mouth shut.
"You are the dude on 7/11," said the blonde haired one.
"Boy in the girls room!" Melissa screamed, running off somewhere. The blonde one looked after her for several seconds, before looking back to me. She looked at me for what seemed like hours, not saying anything. I didn't speak either, just glared back. I didn't know what to say, 'cause I didn't really understand girls. I had never been in a real relationship with a girl before, I had spent most of my time sucking up to Tom with other men. I had slept with girls, sure. But when it came to an awkward silence like this, or speaking with them, I had no idea what to say. I wanted her to take her pick, and run after Melissa.
"We met your Dad on the airport when we arrived," she suddenly said. Wait, how did she know Billie was me father? May be she was on about Glen. May be she was a stalker or something, or else she wouldn't of known.
"No, I'm not talking about your stepfather," she said, like she'd been reading my thoughts.
"How do you know?" I stuttered. It wasn't as if Da.. Billie knew those girls, was it? May be they were relatives, or may be he had said something to them which made them believe their own made up story. Thinking again, it wasn't just "made up." But still..
"Well," she replied. "You obviously heard our chat, and right before Melissa had to pee, we were talking about this magazine."
She handed me a magazine named 'People.' I remembered it. It had the same title as the magazine she had bought the day I first met her. The headline, however, almost made me scream.
"Billie Joe has three sons?" it said. There was a picture of me, and another picture of Billie right beside me. Me. On the cover of People. How did they find out anyway? I had only met him like two days ago, wasn't it? I opened the magazine, 'cause I would most definitely find out reading it.
The drummer of Green Day, Tré Cool, has now exclaimed Billie Joe Armstrong, frontman of Green Day, has three sons. He exclaims Scotish fifteen year old boy, Joey Armstrong is his third son. Seeing how much Joey looks like Billie Joe..
I handed the magazine back to her. I didn't want to read no more. So, this Lighter, was it? Had told the world about me being Billie Joe Armstrong's son. Did Billie know? Did Mum know? Coming back to Scotland wasn't gonna be easy now. I swallowed the lump I had in my throat. I wanted to dig a deep, dark, hole, screaming my anger, pain and fear out on the top of my lungs. I then catched the blonde haired one staring at me. When I looked at her, it was obvious what she had in mind. Lust. I could see it glowing out of her like the smoke out of the pipes on a factory. She bowed down to my level, where I was sitting on the toilet.
"It must be hard for you dealing with all of this," she said, her voice had suddenly changed. She was now speaking in a very sweet voice.
"Sure is," I replied. I couldn't help but lust back at her. She was gorgerous. And she had big boobs. Probably filled with silicon.
"Do you need some cheering up?" she asked, still in that sweet voice of hers. I couldn't help myself anymore. My erection was hard as a rock. She smiled sweetly, and placed herself on top of me..
*
Getting out of the toilet stall when we had finished, she hung on my shoulders constantly, giggling. I knew she wanted to go furter with me than just sex, which meant I had to make my move quickly.
"Look babe. Why don't you go fetch Melissa? She can be anywhere just now."
She stopped giggling, and walked to the outside door, where she stopped. She turned around, came back to me and threw her arms around my neck, me not knowing what else to do than to hug her back.
"Wait here," she whispered. I nodded. She smiled and kissed me cheek before leaving the toilets. I followed her outside them, it was the girl's room after all, and watched her leave. When she was out of sight, I went to find my family. I smiled. I might of let that bitch down, but we both got what we wanted.
She, a rockstar's son, and I, an easy fuck.