Cheaters = Losers

Six hours after take off it was getting into the early hours of the morning and Billie and I were the only ones awake in our section of the cabin. I was munching my way through my thousandth bag of peanuts and Billie had gone on a walk. He returned shortly after I finished my bag.
"Heads up," I caught the object he'd thrown at me.
"Haha yes!" I kissed him quickly as I opened the pretzel bag.
Billie's arm came around my shoulder and pulled me into him. I pushed the armrest up so I could properly snuggle into his side. "I've never seen you eat so much," Billie said, quickly kissing my temple. I shrugged nonchalantly,
"I don't know, I always ate loads at home," While we were still slightly compromised, it was enough to get comfortable enough to doze the last of the hours away.

Someone was roughly shaking my shoulder, brining me back to life groggily.
"Hey," I groaned to see a very unamused air hostess.
"I'm sorry to break this up," she said in a false British accent "But we're landing now and you need to put your seat belts on," she scowled at Billie and I as if we were a pair of teens making out rather than a couple taking a nap.

After battling with the masses through customs and into the arrivals lobby for a good few hours I was exhausted and beyond ready to go home for a warm bath and a good sleep. I picked at my shirt that was stuck slightly to my chest.
"I smell gross," I elbowed Billie who sent me a not-even-sorry smirk.
We came out through the tunnel into Gatwick and immediately I felt myself shrink into Billie's side as we descended into the chaos, people with cardboard signs were shouting names in every direction and being vertically challenged I was having trouble seeing the signs through the hoards of people.

"There," Billie said, one arm wrapped around my waist and the other pointing at a tall, balding man in a suit with a black cap. He had a sign with Orfield written in calligraphy and white gloves. I nodded at Billie and sighed.
"For fuck's sake, we're not even that posh." Billie chucked beside me, before placing his hand on the small of my back and guiding me through the crowds in pursuit of our driver. I don't think I've ever rolled my eyes as hard as I did when I saw that the car was a black Mercedes. Billie was giggling.
"This car is better than the ones we get picked up in for touring,"
"Shut up," I scowled. "This is my mother trying to indimidate you by pretending we're so much richer than we are,"

The drive was fairly short, apart from when we got caught in traffic in the city centre. Billie and I didn't talk, both of us were staring at the famous landmarks flying past our window. We came into Kensington and the car pulled up on one of the big roads, outside a large, Victorian townhouse. The blue door with the white piping and the bronze number, 102, sent a bolt of warmth through me and the smile on my face was the biggest I'd smiled in a long time.
"You okay?" Billie asked from beside me, his hand resting on my hip. In my overwhelming happiness I jumped into his arms, pecking his lips quickly and clinging onto his neck tightly.
"Welcome home," I beamed, and dragged him up to the door.

It was unlocked, as usual, which I was thankful for because I wanted a minute before I was inevitably bombarded by my family. The door clicked open and swing open, I stepped inside, Billie behind me. The tiles were still patterning the large hallway elaborately, and the walls were still a welcoming yellow. There was a large tree painted in the circular centre of the house which was new, decorating the wall where the spiral staircase wound its way up. The keys were still sat in a dish on top of an ancient bookshelf immediately to my left and to my right there was an array of multicoloured coats on a rack of hooks and underneath them were messily placed shoes. It smelt the same too, sending thousands of memories rushing back to me as the scent of slight damp, a heated stove and home cooking rushed to embrace me. I took a deep breath, watching Billie staring at all the various paintings and ornaments.

"Mum, I'm home!" I called, exactly how I did when I was a kid coming home from school. I could hear her shoes clicking on the tiled flooring before she came at me.
"Lilium!" She gasped, before strongly embracing me. She was wearing a house dress, her hair neatly curled and a little makeup on her face. The strong scent of her flowery perfume was immediately smothered all over me. "Oh it's so good to see you dear!" She exclaimed, kissing me cheeks frantically. "You look so well, very tanned. Honestly do you still have that ridiculous backpack?" She changed her tone, her nose turning to my massive bag.
"Yeah I do, it's kinda sentimental,"
"Kinda, you're speaking like a Yankee,"
"I have been living with them for over a year, mum,"
"Of course you have dear," she said, looking around distractedly.
"Anyway, mum, I want you to meet my partner, Billie,"
"What did you say his name was? William Joesph?"
"Billie Joe, yes mum," I said, gesturing for Billie to stand forward. He pulled on a charming smile and held his hand out.
"I'm Billie, it's a pleasure to meet you ma'am," he held my mother's hand delicately, planting a kiss on her hand. Mum sniffed, which was never a good sign.
"Well, your accent isn't as horrendous as it was on the phone,"
Billie laughed warmly.

"Is Chrissie home?" I asked, hopeful to see my sister on the stay. Chrissie was only two years younger than me and we were always very close, I was hoping that she'd be able to get away from her university for a while so I could get to spend some time with her.
"Of course," mum said, a dark look crossing her face. "That child never leaves," she brightened again, "she's in her room. Chrissie! Your sister's here!" Mum called up the stairs. There was a bang and a colossal shout of "IT'S CHRIS!" Before I heard the footsteps of my younger sister come bounding down.

The girl that came down the stairs was not the same girl that I left last year. Chrissie had long blonde hair, that fell in a perfect waterfall and crystal blue eyes. She was stunningly beautiful and spent most of her time in jeans or shorts that would show off her assists and crop tops to match. Chris who came down the stairs had light, catlike footfalls, she had chocolaty brown hair in a very short pixie cut, this Chris' face was more pointed, and there were a lot of rings and gems curving up her hears. She was wearing a short patterned dress with leggings underneath and a green cardigan, a pair of brown boots on her feet. As she landed in front of me she looked almost ethereal, especially when I noticed a purple hue in her eyes.
I raised my eyebrows in shock.
"Chris. I like it," I grinned and she jumped on me, hugging me as if I hadn't seen her in years.
"Oh for goodness sakes, what's the point in giving you a beautiful name like Chrysanthemum if you decide you want to be a boy!?" Chris completely ignored my mother's waffling.
"Oh my God I missed you so much!" She squealed
"Me too, God you've changed," I grinned.
"You have too. You look, I don't know. Really healthy. Happy like," I couldn't wipe the smile off my face
"I am happy, really happy. Chris, why are your eyes purple?"
Her head fell back in laughter.
"I'm trying something," she grinned.
"I should never have let you go to that hippie school," mum was still muttering, clutching her heart as she wandered back into the kitchen.
"Hippie school? I thought you got into uni?"
"I did. It's an arts and design school, so obviously mum hates it," I grinned.
"Nice to see someone is carrying on the chaos around here,"

Billie's rich laugh interrupted the reunion.
"You, chaos?" He laughed at me, I turned around, sending him a playful scowl.
"Hey! Just because I'm tame compared to you doesn't mean I didn't cause trouble around here," I was about to retort when I heard an audible gasp. Chris was stood staring at me with her eyes wide and her mouth open, her focus flicking between Billie and I.
"Chris, you okay?" I asked her. She snapped out of whatever trance she was in to punch my arm, sisterly love at its prime people.
"You didn't tell me you were seeing him!" I stared at her like she was mad.
"I did? I told you Josh and I fell apart and I was seeing Billie,"
"You said, 'a guy called Billie' not Billie Joe Armstrong," I rolled my eyes with a smile. Chris' eyes rolled back to the kitchen. "Muuuum!" She yelled.
"What? Don't shout like that Chrissie we're not animals," she said, ignoring the fact that my sister was absolutely fuming at the name.
"Did you know that Lily is dating the lead singer and guitarist of Green Day?"
"No, what's that?" Mum said, looking at Billie as if she'd never seen him before.
"He's in a band. One of the biggest punk rock bands on the planet. They wrote Dookie, American Idiot and 21st Century Breakdown! They're in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame with The Beatles!" I couldn't help but laugh at my mother's bewildered face, the only thing she understood was Beatles.
"Is that supposed to mean anything? Because the only words I understood were punk and rock." She said coldly.

I rolled my eyes, this was typical behaviour for my mother and to be honest, I didn't really care what she thought of Billie.
"Anyway, mum. Billie and I are going to crash here tonight, then we're going to head up to the air festival tomorrow. Could I please borrow the camping stuff?" Mum sighed.
"You're an adult. I can't really say no can I? Dinner's nearly ready, why don't you have a shower and get changed?"
I nodded and thanked her, pulling Billie with me up the stairs and giggling at the fact that my sister was still gawping as if she'd seen God.

Dinner was less painful than the first introductions. Chris had settled about the fact that one of her heroes was my boyfriend, and took to talking like a normal human, mum was quizzing Billie and the analytical look in her eyes was enough to say that she was desperately searching for faults. My dad had come in and he, like me, was the quiet type. So we were sat together talking quietly about what I'd been up to. Billie was a star, complementing mum just enough to be nice but not so much to sound like he was slimeballing his way up to her. I could see that mum was beginning to twitch, Billie was being a perfect gentleman and gave her exactly no reason to hate him, which was all she wanted to do because he was supposed to be a "punk". After tea I bid my parents goodnight and Billie an I headed upstairs together, much to my mother's distaste.

Once Billie and I were settled in bed I leaned up to kiss him sweetly.
"Thank you," I murmured against his lips.
"For what?" He whispered back, his hands tracing up and down my sides.
"Not making my mother hate you," Billie smiled again and kissed me, before shuffling down so his arms were around my waist and he could bury his head in my neck, and together we drifted off to sleep.

The next morning was chaos. Dad and I were digging around in the old attic, throwing tents and all sorts of random camping items at a bewildered Billie. Mum was fussing about, insisting on making sandwiches or something and Chris was being Chris. She was dancing around, half helping and half slipping Green Day lyrics into whatever she was saying, cracking Billie up. He wasn't being very helpful in the sense that he kept replying to her in his lyrics as well.

Finally my old banger of a car that I was gifted with on my 17th was packed, all of Chris' records had been signed and I was hugging my parents goodbye and waving out the window as I drove away, shouting that I would be seeing them in less than two weeks.