Hiatus

After shaking Billie's hand, my heart finally slowed down as we sat at the kitchen table.
"So, Trish, why did you come all the way here to apologize to me?" I looked at him, hoping I wouldn't go on and on about him.
"Well, I wrote many letters to you to...uh get your attention?" I made it sound like a question on accident.
"Liar. Tell me the truth." He smiled a little.
"I wrote the letters to you because I wanted a reply. I wanted to get your address so that I could come and meet you. That's the truth." I put my head down in embarrassment.
"Thank you." He smiled, again. "I'll show you the guesthouse. Follow me." I got up from the nice, wooden chair and caught myself looking at Billie's ass. I laughed to myself silently and walked on.
"Go on, pick a room." He pointed to three different rooms and I walked into the nearest one. It was a dark blue color with a tall, twin-sized bed in the center of the room. The second room was white with five windows. Too much brightness. I walked into the third room, and it was a light shade of green with a huge bed in the corner. It only had one window.
"This one. I love this one." I smiled to Billie who was standing behind me.
"Good, I like this one too. I painted and decorated this room. Now, the only things I ask is for you to keep it clean and to eat with us every morning and every night for as long as you stay." He pointed his finger at me, like a was a small child.
"Perfect." I whispered as I watched Billie's backside as he walked out.
After Billie had left, I sprinted into my new room and jumped on the bed singing 'East Jesus Nowhere'.
"Of blasphemy and genocide! The sirens of decay will infiltra..." I seen Billie in the doorway.
"Well," he looked at my red face as I laid it in the pillows. He laughed. "I brought you some more blankets." He held them out for me to grab, but I hesitated. I was mentally afraid of touching him in fear I would ruin him, or something. I held out my hands, focusing on only touching the blankets.
"Are you afraid of me?" He asked me quietly. I looked to the ground and I felt a hand on my chin. He lifted my face and I looked into his bright eyes.
"No. I'm just nervous." Keeping eye contact, he sat in the recliner in the corner.
"Don't be. I'm a normal guy. I cry and laugh. I eat and I shit. I'm just like you." I could see his smile lines wrinkle up when he talked.
"I-I, uh, I know that. You're just, my, my idol I guess. Yeah, my idol. I pretty much worship you." I mentally slapped myself in the face for the last sentence I said to him.
He chuckled. "Don't worship me, just like me as a person. That's the only thing I ask from people who meet me. Just be normal."
"Okay..." I trailed off because, I'm not normal. I have a very unhealthy obsession with the man sitting in front of me, and he doesn't even know it.
Billie invited me in for dinner and of course, I was being all fucking weirdo creep like. Billie made me a plate and sat it in front of me. It was beef and noodles with cheesy mashed potatoes. It looked so good considering I hadn't eaten since I left Illinois. I was waiting for Adrienne and the kids to walk in when Billie began eating.
"Where's Adrienne?" I asked Billie, who had just shoved a huge bite in his mouth. He chewed quickly while he held up his index finger signally for me to wait.
"She's in Florida with the kids. Were on a little bit of a break right now." He said it like it was nothing. I nodded and we ate in silence.
I finished eating and looked at Billie, who had been waiting for me to finish for ten minutes.
"Sorry." I grabbed my plate to take to the sink.
"Sorry for what? I like to sit together until everyone is finished."
"Well, thanks. I mean, thanks for everything..."
"Anytime, kiddo." Kiddo? What the fuck? I did a shitty, sarcastic smile and said goodnight.
"I'll walk ya out there." Billie walked in front of me in the dim lighting. We got to my room and he awkwardly stood in the doorway.
"Well, uh, goodnight." He did a Forrest Gump wave and walked away.
I never thought, ever in my fucked up life, that I would be sleeping in Billie Joe Armstrong's guesthouse bedroom that he painted and decorated. What did I do to deserve this lucky break? I sank down in the comfortable bed and thought about who was twenty feet away from me, sleeping alone. I thought about going in there and crawling in bed with him.
Nah, better not.