Riding On The Night Train

By lunchtime, the train station in Landgraaf was heaving with people. Mika leaned close to the misted carriage window, feeling the train slow, as he watched the waiting passengers mingle on the wet platform, a blur of colour and feverish excitement.

“Well, you know how to pull in a crowd,” he commented, throwing a playful smirk over his shoulder at Billie Joe, who glanced, nervously, out of the window.

“C'mon, we don't know they're here to see me,” he pointed out, with a smile. He took his hat out of his pocket and pulled it onto his head, low enough that it almost covered his eyes. “But you're right, I do know how to pull in a crowd, so they probably are...”

“How the fuck are we going to get you off this train?”

“They're way too excited about seeing Green Day to notice I'm even here.” Mika looked dubious, as Billie Joe slid a pair of dark sunglasses on, then got to his feet. “We are going to have to fuckin' run though... are you ready?”

Mika nodded, sucking in a breath as the train came to a stop, announcing its arrival with a broken stream of fast-paced Dutch through the loudspeaker.

“Alright, Billie... let's go.”

There were advantages to being short, Mika decided, as they fought their way through the bustling crowd of commuters that had collected on the platform and pushed their way into the old station building. Billie Joe went virtually unnoticed as he darted through the flock of excited passengers, most of whom were dressed in band shirts and toting backpacks, cameras and various examples of camping equipment. When it came to himself, on the other hand, he found it rather more difficult to hide his six feet and four inches of famous and the squeals that were thrown in his direction only made him run faster, one hand gripping tightly to the back of Billie Joe's leather jacket.

The security at the back of the festival site let them in without question, before Mika had even begun to locate his pass, and they walked side-by-side with their hands in their pockets as they made their way through the backstage area, barely daring to look in each other's direction as though passers-by might read in a single glance all the ways they had spent the night before.

Mika knew he had his own crew to get back to but he followed Billie Joe without thinking of them at all, towards the sleek black tour bus parked at the rear of the site. The guitarist gave a holler when he got inside but it was met with silence and Mika took a breath, as Billie slid off his jacket and tossed it onto the arm of a nearby couch.

“Nice bus...” he commented, lamely. Billie Joe smiled and the words hung in the air, making Mika wish he had thought of something better to say. The air inside the bus felt heavy and charged with tension and it seemed as though all of the easy familiarity he had spent the night savouring was fading fast, leaving him grasping, desperately, after it.

Billie Joe slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans, considering the pattern on the floor tiles for a moment, and Mika held all his air inside his chest until he met his green eyes again.

“You know... I have to go change and... set up and...”

Mika nodded, feeling his throat tighten at the realisation that all of this was coming to an end.

“Sure, I... well, I need to head back to my trailer and... y'know.”

“Yeah, I know,” Billie Joe smiled, taking a few steps closer. Mika glanced down at the familiar chain around his neck and then back up to his eyes again, feeling a tingle run up his arm when fingers closed around his own. “Uh... Mika, I- I just wanted to say that I... well, y'know, I really didn't know if I should even come see you this weekend... I mean I didn't know if you'd want to see me again but-”

“Billie-”

“-Wait. I just wanted to say that, actually, y'know, I'm glad I did because... even though I didn't really know what in the hell I was doing and... even though I put you on a train to fucking Amsterdam – which I'm sorry about, by the way-”

Mika chuckled, nervously.

“-Billie, don't be sorry, it was awesome.”

He smiled.

“Well... you know, I thought so too... but anyway, what I'm trying to say is... I had a really great time last night and... thank you.”

“I had a great time too,” Mika admitted, with a smile, “And I'm glad you came to see me. To tell the truth, I was kind of hoping you would.”

Billie Joe looked down at their fingers, which were still linked together. He seemed to consider his next words carefully, his brow creasing a little in concentration.

“... I hope this isn't the last thing I ever see of you, y'know, because... there are like a heap of other towns we can get fucked up in.”

Mika laughed.

“Absolutely. You know, next time you're in England you should give me a call. Or just... any time you want to give me a call, y'know... any time.”

“Sure,” Billie Joe nodded, “I mean... I guess we have to run into each other again sometime soon, right? ... You playing any festivals in the States this summer?””

Mika shook his head, a little sadly, and Billie Joe dropped his eyes again.

“Oh... well, y'know... maybe if our paths don't cross again... we'll have to just, y'know, make them cross...”

Billie Joe's suggestion made Mika's heart flutter unexpectedly, the possibility that this might be more than a meaningless night in Amsterdam lighting a flicker of excitement in his stomach that he barely dared to trust.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean... I can talk to you, man... you're... you're different. But then in a lot of ways, it feels like you're just the same as I am. I meet a lot of fucking people every day and most the time I forget about them the very next second but... I didn't ever manage to forget about you.”

Mika swallowed, feeling his chest swell, as Billie Joe leaned closer to him and he raised a hand to cup the guitarist's rough cheek. His eyes were bright, flickering with something that could be nerves, though Mika couldn't be sure.

“I didn't forget either,” he offered, quietly, “And... as weird as this whole thing is... I don't think I want this to be the last time we disappear together.”

Billie Joe stretched up on his toes to meet his lips and Mika smiled into the kiss, his hands settling on the guitarist's waist, feeling the warmth of his skin through his t shirt. He noticed, as one of Billie Joe's tattooed hands found its way up into his hair, that he still smelled like pot and cheap liquor and something else that had become warm and familiar. His fingers moved down to Billie Joe's belt to tug him closer as their kiss deepened, slow and easy, and he took the weight of the smaller man's body as he leaned back against the wall.

“Ahh... G'morning campers!”

Mika felt his heart jolt at the unfamiliar voice. His hands dropped from Billie Joe's sides as they jumped apart and turned to look in the direction of the open doorway, where a smug-looking Mike Dirnt was leaning, blue eyes sparkling wickedly.

“Fucking Jesus, Mike...” Billie Joe muttered, a blush creeping up his neck, and the smirk on the bassist's lips gave way to a laugh.

“Well, sorry to bust in on you, man, but I've been taking the damn heat from Schneider all morning, it's time you went out there and showed him you're still alive or whatever.” He waved the rocket-shaped ice-lolly that was beginning to melt down his hand in their direction. “Where the fuck have you been, anyway?”

“Uh... Amsterdam,” Billie Joe replied, rubbing, nervously, at the back of his neck, “Listen, man, I'll be right out, can you just... uh... give us a minute?”

“You sure that's all you're gonna need?” Mike grinned, chuckling as Billie Joe pushed him in the direction of the door, “Alright, alright, I'm going. I'll tell Bill you'll be out in ten in full-on stage get-up, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, that's great...”

“Good to see you again Mika!” he called, as Billie Joe began to close the door on him, “I'm Mike, by the-”

Mika smiled, as the door slammed shut.

“Sorry about him,” Billie Joe muttered. “He thinks he's hilarious.”

“That's okay. Well, I guess I'd better leave you to get ready...”

Billie Joe raised an eyebrow.

“Weren't you listening to him? I have ten whole minutes.”

Mika laughed, as Billie Joe's hands came to rest on his shoulders.

“Yeah... I mean, I suppose that's actually loads of time.”

“Loads,” Billie Joe murmured, as Mika dipped his head to kiss him gently, long fingers sliding into his dishevelled hair, then seemed to give up on conversation altogether when Mika pulled him closer, breathing him in, unsure if he ever wanted to stop kissing him because, actually, ten minutes didn't seem like nearly enough time at all. Billie Joe broke their contact first, his breath warm against Mika's lips, noses barely touching as he whispered, “You gonna stay and watch our show?”

“Yeah...” Mika smiled, and the relief in Billie Joe's green eyes set his heart dancing all over again. “'Course I am.”

Paloma was sitting outside the trailer when Mika returned, his heart feeling strangely light and heavy at the same time, and she looked at him over the top of her sunglasses when he approached, hovering awkwardly by the door with his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

“Hi.”

She smiled.

“Do I know you?”

“Oh, fuck off... I wasn't gone that long,” he muttered, taking a seat next to her. He glanced over, a little sheepishly, “Sorry, though... I didn't really plan on staying out all night and getting you worried.”

She shrugged his apology away, tossing him a can of cold Coke from the box on the grass next to her.

“Here, you look like you need it... hangover?”

“A bit. Thanks...”

She watched him fumble the can open and take a long drink, then leaned back in her seat.

“Well... where'd you get to last night?”

He considered her question for a moment, then sighed.

“Amsterdam.”

She laughed.

“No way. No wonder you look like crap. So, how was it.... time of your life?”

He gave her a sidelong glance, the teasing glint in her eye making him nervous.

“Er... what?”

Paloma grinned.

“Give it up, Mika, you're already busted. I bumped into their drummer last night. He's off his head but he knows how to mix a cocktail. Tre Cool. I'm inviting him to every party I might have in my life, just so you know.”

“Since when did you know Tre Cool?”

“Since he took the time to let me know the whereabouts of my little brother. I can't believe I didn't know you had a thing for the Green Day guy.”

“Whatever...”

“And you only blush like that when it's a serious thing.”

The grin on his sister's face showed him she was taking some real glee in his embarrassment but she, thankfully, seemed to let him off the hook without further question, leaning back in her seat to feel the sun on her face for a moment.

“Still...” she smiled, eventually, “It's an interesting choice but I can see where you're coming from... he has that whole sensitive-yet-intense rockstar thing going on. And he does have awfully pretty eyes. Don't you think?”

Paloma reached out to mess up his hair and he smiled along with her, knowing that there wasn't any point in answering because, after all, she was his sister and she knew him too well.