Remember Me

Back to the Basics
Well, remember when Mike said that Alison would make them dress up, and how Billie insisted confidently that she excepted people for how they were? Ha ha that's cute.
We arrived at Alison's birthday party at eleven this morning. Billie's mom Ollie drove us and was catering for the party of wild 8-13 year olds. Billie was busy setting up an amp on the lumpy grass in the backyard. And apparently he hadn't noticed his fan. An thirteen year old girl with shoulder length red hair and freckles was watching him intently. It gave me the instinct that she had one of those awkward crushes on someone older than you. In her instance, by five years, but who the hell was I to judge? I don't even know my own age.
I grinned and sat on the edge of the picnic table at the end of the yard. Today was an release from all the building tension. Yay, freedom.
Mike and Tré stomped out onto the yard. What they didn't know, and what Billie overlooked was that Alison, has an twin sister. Which also means that they were born the same day. So guess who else's birthday it is today? You guessed it. Alison's identical more girly based sister, Kim.
“Crap, Billie help us!” Mike cried at Billie who was occupied plugging everything in.
Mike, poor poor Mike had been transformed. And as ridiculous and immature it may seem of Kim to do it, it's hilarious.
Mike's short brown locks of hair had each been braided, ends tied with hot fushia pink ribbons. He grumbled as Tré was Throughly enjoying this. His murky short shoulder length lime green hair also braided back with black ribbons instead.
Kim was working on squeezing Mike's big feet into her mothers petite red pumps. He only got half his foot in before he started looking like the evil step sister on Cinderella with half her foot jammed in the little shoe.
Billie was lucky that he was beig so offhand. Otherwise I have an nagging suspicion that he'd look like the rest.
I leapt from my spot and walked leisurely over toward then. “Kim, your doing an beautiful job, do you think you can do my old hair?” I laughed and Mike scowled.
Kim's face lit up in response.
My hair has grown very little in the last week and an half, but it was still longer than Mike's and Tré's. 
I sat down in the grass beside them while she finished up with Mike's hair.
Billie leaned Blue against the amp and walked away to go talk to his mom, he has no idea the mistake he has made around a bunch of eight year-olds.
“What is today?!” Kim screamed in Mikes ear. He cringed away before answering. “August 27th, 1989” he groaned.
“No!” she screamed even louder this time “It's my birthday.”
Mike smiled slightly to get her to ease up. Not only her tone but her fingers that were piercing his arm.
“I knew that.” he said it like an smart-ass. 
Which for that, he got an swift slap across the face. Kim spun on her heal and walked inside the house. Coming back out with an armload of ribbon and party makeup, she was walking toward him.
“Dear fuck.” Mike grumbled in horror. Leaping to his feet and running to the far end of the yard. Kim followed, dropping spools of ribbon scattered all over the grass.
I laughed. Holding my sides watching Mike race, peeking over his shoulder every so often like someone running an race. This was gold for entertainment. Soon other kids joined in on Kim's chase. Mike was screaming at the top of his lungs as he ran. Suddenly tackled by an quick Kim. He then shouted “SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!!! DAMN IT! SOMEONE FUCKING HELP ME! please!!” then his shouts became muffled cries for help as they all picked up an limb and dragged him off behind an tall oak tree at the end of the yard. An single foot stuck out in view. Well that just made me laugh even harder. I clutched my sides when Billie walked over all cheery.
“What's up with you?” he asked.
I pointed at the bottom of the yard where Mike's foot still was, now his nails being painted by an six year old girl.
Billie took an deep breath of amused awe. “Damn, he's been talking about going to an salon, too bad they beat him to it.” he laughed.
That was gold! I couldn't breathe.

“Billie!” Ollie called from the the long picnic table by the fence. Waving him toward her.
He trotted over “Yeah mom?”
“Could you two set up the table with plates, napkins and forks and spoons?” she asked. Setting an vase of bright assorted flowers on the table.
Billie nodded and got straight to work. Splitting up the napkin pile with me. While he was busy putting his pile of dark purple napkins down he spoke. “Y'know that you need an name right?” he laughed casually.
“I keep having little girls come up to me and say 'Who's the pretty girl over there with short black hair, an guitar pick necklace?'” he intimidated poorly.
I smacked his arm playfully “Did not asshole.” I grinned. Placing an pile of paper plates on the edge of the table.
He looked up at me and grinned “How would you know? Or what, can you suddenly read minds or take in the world around you so quickly. That you could hear anything, even if you didn't want too?” 
I looked at him like he had just spoken French.
“Well firsties, no I cannot read minds or Throughly understand what you just said. And twosies, being quiet as long as I can remember does indeed have it's advantages...” I smiled slyly. Glad he couldn't crack my compacted brain that I, myself am not even sure I could do.
When we finished, we walked down to the end of the yard that had been transformed into an mini beauty salon. Mike pouted, they had his chest tied back to the trunk of the tree so he couldn't slouch. And they did it with, would you believe it? Ribbon. Ha never underestimate little girls.
They had him all fixed up, his toe nails painted bright pink, his short hair up in scruffy little clumps with bright ribbons wrapped around them. A pair of jewel clip on earrings. And this goddy plastic jeweled necklace. He looked like he leapt out of one of those Disney fairytales.
He had too much blush on his cheeks and dark blue eyeshadow in an frame around his eyes. He glared up at us as we approached.
“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to HELP ME?!” he yelled. That only made the little girls laugh in chorus. He whimpered and slouched as much as the tight ribbon would allow.
Billie looked at me and shrugged, “He seems busy, we should leave him alone.” I nodded and followed him as he turned, heading back up the yard with Mike cussing us out the whole way, using words little girls shouldn't even know yet. Either way, he's getting left behind this time. But we'd have to untie him eventually, he has to prefrom.

Mike grumbled bitterly as he pulled his guitar strap over his head and adjusted it so it sat right on his shoulder. Weighing his orange bass just right.
He had spent the last five minutes he had had to spare trying to pry the ribbons and braids out of his hair. But the clever little girls planned for this, cause he was picking at an ribbon, trying to untie it when he found something hard near the tied ends. He leaned toward Billie asking “Billie, what the hell is this in my hair?”
Billie picked up the stump of an braided lock, identifying it. He lifted his eyebrows and stepped back in awe. Mike looked up at him in horror.
“What?” he asked warily.
Billie pursed his lips and took an half step away.
“Out with it!” Mike said nervously.
Billie swallowed hard and bit his lip several times before speaking.
“You won't like it.”
“What?!”
Billie floundered, examining Mike's outraged posture. “They, Uh... They kinda, sorta... Actually it's really really funny. Um, they sorta put gorilla glue on the ribbons so you couldn't get them out... So yeah.” Billie said as casually as possible, cringing away when Mike's expression became something no one could look at.
Mike took an long deep breath. Hating what was coming trough all this rage “I'm gonna kill them.” he muttered, shrugging past Billie toward the kids playing at the end of the yard.
Billie laughed humorlessly, realizing something I didnt. Either he has that expression because he didn't think Mike's joke was funny. Or because it was true, he'd kill them for this.

Anyways, back to the present, Ollie had to cut all the braids out of Mike's hair because he refused to preform looking like that. And Billie knew if they didn't preform, they were out the 250 buck's Allison's mom was going to pay the band. And when your just starting out, you don't pas up that kind of money, even if it means getting your hair restyled in the process. Mike shot Kim death glares and Ollie excused it of her 'not knowing any better.' but Mike wasn't buying it. 
Allison had apologized to Mike Throughly for her sisters doing while she gladly sank to her knees with an bottle of nail polish remover, getting rid of all traces of the barbie pink polish on his toes. Mike became really paranoid after that. He kept shooting glances over his shoulder and his eyes darted from one face to the next faster than normal. He looked like he was expecting someone to leap on his back and choke him. He stomped on the small stage that Billie and Tré had arranged that morning with help from Allison and sweet, sweet Kim. Mike kept looking down at the floorboards, like he was also expecting them to suddenly break and drop him into an shark tank.
He swallowed tightly and became an unleashed creature. His hostile looks he threw at the crowd. I cant say if this is his normal stage behavior or if it was all brought on by Kim's restyling.
Kim smiled up at him sweetly from her place sitting on the ground, something clicked in my head, Kim looked like she had an secret crush on Mike. And the only way to get him to notice her was knotting up his hair and paint his nails, if that's how you get guys to see you, I've been doing it all wrong.
Billie stepped up onto the stage beside Mike. Adjusting the strap and quickly tuning the guitar before stepping up to the microphone.
“We're the Sweet Children, and this is the first one,”
I hadn't ever really heard Sweet Children preform before, well sorta, but I was running for my life when it all happened. It occurred to me as each clashing beat echoed in my ears that they were great. Wonderful even, I've never heard anything like it. Yes, Operation Ivy was wonderful when Billie took me to see them in that underage joint. But Sweet Children had no match, nothing to compare to it with the smooth vocal harmonies and the guitars that all lined up perfectly.
I was Absolutely, without an doubt, awe struck.
I couldn't help but mosh along with everyone else in the crowd. This is fantastic! Ha, absolutely amazing.
Billie took his bows and bounced off the stage in the giddiest mood I've ever seen him.
He was electrified with the energy from the show they'd just preformed.
“What'd you think?! What'd you think?! What did you think!” he yelled in my face happily.
I took an half step back, an tall man stepped up to Billie. 
“Son, that was the most amazing thing I think I've ever seen, say, howabout we talk about some stuff?”
Billie nodded enthusiastically and followed him away, forgetting all about the obsessive question about his performance he had just asked me.
I shrugged and walked over to where Tré leaned against the fence dividing this yard from the neighbor's yard.
“Hey Tré.” I said leaning against the fence and looking down to where Billie had disappeared.
He grinned “Did ya know Tré Cool is not my real name?” he quized me. Billie had said something about that the other day.
“Sort of...”
“It's, Uh... Frank Edwin Weight III. Shit it's embarrassing.” he laughed throwing his head back.
I laughed too “It can't be as embarrassing as having no name and everyone calls you 'Whatsername'.”
He nodded thoughtfully for a moment. Looking down at the green lawn. “True. I suppose that you are probably right.”
I rolled my eyes playfully and grabbed his arm and dragged him to the center of the yard where Allison's mom was playing music through massive speakers. The girls and boys at the party gathered around and danced randomly. Not caring enough to want to learn the real thing. Me and Tré danced randomly too, he laughed and said “Watch this.”
He put his elbows out and into chicken wings and did the chicken dance around the yard. I however; was literally rolling on the grass laughing my ass off. Tears fell from my eyes as I stumbled to my feet. Wiping away the traced on my wrist. I snorted when Tré had gathered an dancing chicken posse made up of thr kids at thr party. Standing behind Tré and following his moves of the chicken dance to an Elvis Presley song.
I fell down again, and was run out of energy for that one. I'd laughed so much I couldn't stand up and my mind swirled with the images of what I'd just witnessed.
When that chunk of energy died down, I leaned against the punch table for balance. The kids now totally loved Tré hanging on him like a jungle gym. He laughed and dragged them along behind him.
The music still blasted from the stereo's. I stood all alone. Until someone tapped my shoulder, I spun around half expecting to see Ollie or maybe Tré. But it was Billie.
Remember how earlier I'd said I'd never seen him in such a good mood? It's been topped. He was jumping around hyperly. Tripping over his words to get them out.
“Out with it man!” I encouraged.
He paused and looked around, then started again in an calmer matter.
“Ok, you know that guy I was talking too?”
“Yeah?”
“Well he is Larry Livermore! EEEE!” he squealed like an little girl meeting her idol. 
“And who is that?” I pushed him for details.
“Larry Livermore owns and record company, Lookout records!”
Tré walked up behind Billie with half the kids at the party still leaching off him. “Who?”
“Larry Livermore.” Billie answered quickly.
“Oh yeah, he's a cool guy.” he said casually sipping his iced tea.
“Wait, you mean you know him?” Billie asked.
Tré nodded matter-of-factly. “Yep, he's my neighbor. He's got this cool drum kit in his garage he lets me come over and play whenever.”
“Your neighbor is an record producer... And you didn't say anything? When you, Frank Edwin Wright  the 3rd is in an band?!” Billie explained to him. Tré stared blankly at Billie for an second. Then an grin slowly spread across his face and be pointed at Billie “Right, I see what your getting at BeeJ.” 
“Do you?” Billie asked unbelievingly.
Tré nodded “I do.”
“Really?”
“Nope.”
They argued over that one while I drifted away. Toward Mike who was pouting. Sitting on the extreme edge of the picnic table.
“What's up?” I sat down behind him. He warily peeked over his shoulder. An smile poked at his lips slightly “I'm half bald, that's what's up. I'll tell you right now. You can be my future witness, I'm not playing birthday parties anymore...”
I grinned “I'll take it to the grave. Witness buddies?” I held out my pinkie and he shook it. Rolling his eyes playfully “Witness buddies.” 
The afternoon really calmed down after that. I could tell that Mike seriously couldn't wait to get out of there. We stayed the following hour and then The band packed up and said their goodbyes. Billie was laughing with Kim about Mike's new hair style. Mike stuck out his tongue and climbed up into the backseat of the car. Meanwhile Tré was trying to shake the clingy kids off. They were crying and begging for the “Chicken man.” to stay. Tré convinced them that he'd see them again, and as soon as he shook them off, streaked for the car. Hoping in and we drove off. Leaving behind an lawn full of shocked kids left with their mouths hanging open.