Viva La Gloria I: World Tour

I had gotten in, unfortunately for me, not without a couple scrapes and one deep cut that would require a band-aid. But I had predicted this and was unsure what to do now. But where am I supposed to get one? I looked at the tour buses again. It would be very stupid to go raiding their tour buses for a bandaid. And even more embarrassing would be if they were in there and I just walk in all like ‘S'cuesy me, jus... Need a bandaid... Big fan by the way.’ I rolled my eyes and started for the buses. I grabbed the window frame at the end of the bus. And on the count of three, yanked myself up far enough to peek inside at their sleek upholstery. I would have gasped if I wasn't squirming to force my muscles to stay bent. They were no where to be seen. So I dropped and carefully walked around to the other side of the big bus. I peeked in the window on the door. Still I didn't see anyone. So I opened the door And slowly climbed in.
It was quite cozy inside actually. I went searching for the bathroom before I could get caught. I pulled open the door and went straight to work clawing through the cupboards one handed, my other hand gripped the dripping wound on my forearm. I spotted the aluminum case with a red cross on the front. I snagged it and ripped it open, poking around the advanced first aid utensils and located a pack of gauze and a roll of tape.
I patched the wad of gauze over the gushing cut with clumsy fingers. I held it tightly for a few seconds before I wrapped tape tightly around it. It stung but felt much better.
I sighed and sat on the floor, only now becoming aware of the mess I'd made. I began picking up bits of paper from the gauze package. I shoved them to the bottom of the trash can while scrubbed the blood stains off the tiled floor.
When it looked clean, I snuck out of the bathroom. My heart fluttered out of my chest, when I heard the sounds of talking and movement outside the bus. I cussed silently and looked around for an place to hide. I spotted an closet to the left and without hesitation, climbed into a closet filled with leather jackets and other garments.
I crawled to the vary back of the closet, which wasn't very far. If anyone opened the door, I'd be seen for sure.
I heard the bus door swing open, I held my breath and listened closely to what they were saying. I heard them all clatter onto the bus. Chortling with laughter over something that wasn't obvious to the person in the closet.
I listened, trying to make out every word so that I'd at least have a heads up before someone came gawking in the closet.
“Yeah, tell them I'll be right out. I just need my jacket.” someone called.
Shit! I sighed and looked around. I'd seen him in many leather jackets before, but I never thought I'd need to memorize exactly what it looked like. I lifted the leather jacket off me to see it sort of looked like Billie's. I prayed that it was and shoved it to the front of the closet. There was nothing else to do. I stood up in the closet and shrugged into a jacket above. Concealing my feet behind a heap of converse. They'd never notice. I hoped.
The door swung open, I couldn't see who it was, not without turning my head at risk of being seen.
“Hang on! I'm commin!” The person on the other side of the coats yelled. I felt my heart do frantic little leaps. I knew exactly who it was—Billie.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Forcing myself to think about something else. The jacket disappeared and the door shut again. I breathed a sigh of relief as I released my frozen muscles. I waited five minutes before I opened the door. Fresh air invaded my lungs as I listened for any signs of life on the bus.
I quickly left the bus in search of another hiding place. I checked my watch: 6:38. The concert begins at 7:15. I have some time to get in there. I wandered around the empty courtyard. Searching behind crates and shipping containers. I found the door into the backstage. I hesitantly pulled it open and silently slipped in. I heard the soft click of the door shutting again. I ducked behind a crate and peeked out to see and get a better look of the room. It was huge, of course. Shipping containers around the room. A mini hair&makeup area had been set up on the south side of the room. It remained vacant. Somewhere off to my left, I heard faint strumming. I couldn't just barge in there begging for their autographs. I needed a plan. I slipped behind some more crates and made my way to the front of the room, where there was a staircase to the front of the building. I cautiously walked up and lifted a hand, prepared to split the red curtain to see the other side. I pulled it open, the auditorium was amazingly the biggest room I've ever seen. Among thousands of empty seats laid out beyond the stage. Which was also massive. I saw the big double doors at the other end of the room, in the shadows, begin to shutter.
I looked at my watch again, 6:45. Fans were arriving. I watched in horror as the doors began to tremble terribly. Then they blew open, a swarm of fans flooded the room. Heavy buzzing as the steady flow of participants reached their seats, scattered all over the room. I ducked back down behind the curtain, I don't think I've ever seen that many people in one place before either.
I stumbled backward off the steps, falling on my backside on the cold cement floor. I heard the clattering and laughter as the band made it's way through the maze of shipping containers. Toward the stairs I laid below now. I heard def strums coming from a guitar that wasn't plugged into a amp.
“Greatest band in punk!” I heard Tré.
I shuffled backward behind a crate as they approached. I saw them at once. Billie Joe, Mike and Tré. Even Jason White, Green Day's backup guitarist for some time now.
I watched in absolute awe. There they were! After all this time, I was seeing them! I wanted to scream. I'd finally won this achievement. But screaming wasn't exactly an option unless you wanted to scare the piss out of them. I watched them each, memorizing each detail they had. I'd never want to forget.
I looked at my watch again. 7:00.
“Yeah well, I'm not the only one that has to write songs. Damn.” Billie muttered.
“Well, sorry for asking if you had anything fucking new.” muttered Mike.
Billie rolled his eyes while he tuned Blue. His guitar that he has had forever. As long as Green Day has been a band he has had that blue Strat.
I watched in pure amazement. Even though they were having a little feud, it is still going to forever be the biggest moment of my life. Seeing them, it's like nothing you'll ever do again. Once you've seen them it doesn't carry the same impact the next time. Right?
“What's the setlist?” Tré laughed. Peeking over Billie's shoulder as he hovered over a piece of paper on a dusty desk next to the staircase.
Billie shrugged. “I guess we will start with... Either 86 or Longview.” he tapped the page “Whichever one I guess.”
“I'm for 86. We need another hateful power song.” said Mike flatly.
“Right, yeah I guess we will play 86.” Billie said in an offhand tone.
Then stage techs started to swarm around them. Asking them if the guitars needed any tuning and what not. I watched in absolute fascination.
“It's go time!” Tré shouted. Pumping a fist into the air. They did that little, put your hands in the center thing before they walked up the stairs and readied themselves for their big entrance. Seconds ticked before they ran out on stage with more enthusiasm then they had had back here. I waited till the techs descended. Then I hurried up the stairs. Watching them leap straight into my favorite song from Insomniac, 86.
I smiled hugely as I watched them bring it to life
“What brings you around? Did you lose something the last time you were here? Youll never find it now, it buried deep with your identity.”
It was new to me with a fresh sound from what they had in '95.
“There is no return from 86, don't even try, exit out the back, and never show your face around again.” they sang.
“Stand aside and let the next one pass, don't let the door kick you in the ass.” Billie hollered.
“There is no return from 86, there is no return from 86, there is no return from 86.”
I sang along loudly, laughing in between verses. Already having a fantastic time.
They closed the song after the solo.
“Welcome to the Green Day concert, 2008!” Billie yelled. It was only vaguely a chance for them to preform. No new album, no new songs. Just the oldies. They broke out Longview for the second song. I ran back down the stairs, to look at the setlist Billie had left behind.
I reviewed it swiftly. I'd heard them all and knew them all by heart.
By the time that Longview had come to a close, Billie announced that they'd be playing American Idiot. I ran over to the massive guitar rack, selected his traditional Les Paul.
I waited in the offhand shadows of the stage, Billie came over to trade guitars with me. I suppressed my joy and handed off the guitar. He paid no mind to me, didn't even notice that I looked nothing like his band personal. I held Blue. The most beautiful guitar I've ever seen. Covered in random, bright stickers. Electrical tape wrapped firmly around the bottom of the body and at the guitar strap.
I touched it in awe. Ultimately taken in. I stepped back down to the guitar rack, about to put it back, but then I just had to play it. Just for a moment.
I strummed the vague outline of Basket Case. It sounded even more beautiful than it looked.
“It's...Amazing!” I sung.
I had to put it back though, there were just too many witnesses wandering around back here to tell Billie that some weirdo girl was back here playing Blue.
I hung it high on the rack again. To stare at it from a side view now. I sighed and started up the stairs again to watch the show.