Green Day Saves the Day

Weeks had passed since the run-in with Chris, but Robb was still haunted by nightmares of him. Night after night he’d wake up in a cold sweat with his throat aching as if he’d been yelling or crying in his sleep. No one noticed, though, for his behavior didn’t seem unusual to anyone—that is, anyone except Billie.

At first, Robb tried to deny that anything was wrong. When Billie would shake him out of his hellish nightmares and ask if he was okay, he would only smile and nod as if it was perfectly normal for him to sweat and cry out in his sleep. There were other nights when he wouldn’t sleep at all. He’d just sit up with his knees pulled up to his chest as he tried in vain to ward off his dreams. When Billie asked him why he wasn’t sleeping at three in the morning, he’d look back with bloodshot eyes and reply, “I’m not tired.” For a while, Billie accepted all the ‘I’m okay’s but one night, it became clear to him that his great great grandson was anything but okay.

Billie was trying to navigate through yet another unfamiliar hotel room on his way to the bathroom when he heard a soft whimper. It sounded like it was coming from Robb. He felt his way through the dark by running his hands along the walls until his fingers slid right into the light dimmer. He made it just bright enough so that he could see then made his way over to Robb, who had rolled off the couch. His eyebrows were deeply creased and he was mumbling angrily. Then his expression softened and his angry mumbling turned to a pitiful plea for mercy. “No…don’t. Please, just give me one more chance.” Billie grew alarmed and reached over to shake the young man awake, but something held him back. He stood there with his hand hovering just inches over Robb, frozen in the moment. He just had to know exactly what this kid was dreaming about. He slowly pulled his arm back and dropped it at his side, never taking his eyes off of Robb.

“Chris…just…just leave me alone. No…no! Get away from me. Let go!” Robb hissed under his breath as he thrashed his arms about and came into full contact with the sharp edge of a coffee table. The sudden pain caused his eyelids to snap open. “Ow! Motherfuck—Oh, h-hi Billie.”

“You’ve been dreaming about him, haven’t you.” Billie stated this as if it were already a known fact.

“Well—” Robb started.

“I told you Beej, I only had that gay sex dream once. Would you just drop it already?” Tré murmured.

Billie sighed and turned around to the couch behind him where Tré lay. “Tré, could you stay out— Tré? Wow, the little fucker’s asleep.” He turned back around to face Robb and made sure that his voice was lowered to a whisper when he talked to him to avoid anymore awkward conversation with Tré. “So, have you?”

Robb hesitated to answer at first. What would this once-dead rock star think of him if he admitted how scared he was of sleeping because of some stupid nightmares? Would he think he was weak or childish or…?

“Robb, I’m waiting.”

Snapping out of his momentary trance, Robb quietly replied, “Yeah, for the past couple of weeks.”

“Since we got back from that club in Hollywood?”

“Yeah…Look, I’m sorry if I’ve been worrying you or anything. I just…I’ll get over it soon enough. Maybe if—“

Billie held up his hand to silence the frazzled, red-eyed man. “There’s only one way to put an end to all this. You’ve got to forgive him.”

“But I-I can’t—”

“Yes, you can. Chances are, you’re never going to see that idiot in person ever again, but you can forgive him through a song. I know you’ve been avoiding it, and I don’t blame you; it can’t be easy. But it’ll put an end to these nightmares. Are you up to it?”

Robb sighed so deeply that for a moment, he could feel all of his burdens leave him. For a split second, he felt as if he had nothing to worry to about, no weight on his shoulders whatsoever. His gray-green eyes, which had drifted off into space, slowly traveled to meet Billie’s green ones. He nodded and smiled sheepishly when the petite rocker told him how proud he was of him for being so brave.

After Billie stumbled back to his room in the dark, Robb hopped back on the couch and lie down on his back. He cringed when he tried to support his head with his hands. The table’s corner had left a bad scrape on the back of his right hand. He began to sing an old Green Day song in his head to distract him from the dull, throbbing pain.

Something’s on my mind. It’s been for quite some time…

For the first time in three long weeks, Robb drifted off into a peaceful, uninterrupted slumber.

***

The New continued to tour under the label of ‘Green Day tribute band #82’ as the real Green Day supervised backstage. Their normal routine went on for a while—they arrived via copter and were welcomed with lights, sparks, and shrieks. It was July 24th, 2070 when everything changed.

It was an unusually mild night in New Orleans, Louisiana. A full moon cast a glow on the enormous stage that sat in the center of the Super Dome.

Half of the Dome had been torn down a few decades ago in order for it to be expanded and modified. It was now bigger and better than ever and more than capable of containing the stage where The New was set to make their surprise debut.

Thousands of fans waited anxiously for the band to arrive. Many of them scanned the sky and strained to hear the whirring of a helicopter. Others kept their eyes glued to the dark stage, expecting the sparks to go off any second. They waited and waited until finally, something happened. A single spotlight hit the stage and illuminated two microphone stands, each beside either a bass or electric guitar, and a set of drums. It was the drum set that caught all the attention for right there on the bass drum in black letters outlined in silver were the words ‘The New’. Not ‘Green Day tribute band’ or ‘GD 82’; just ‘The New’.

For a full minute, absolutely nothing happened. This was going to be the biggest—and perhaps the only—band debut this generation would ever experience and The New wanted to savor every moment and draw it out for as long as they possibly could. Dré casually walked onto the stage and settled down behind his drums. Several people in the crowd gasped when they caught sight of his brown faux hawk. He tried his best to keep a straight face on as he proceeded with a light drum roll. If these kids think my change in hair color is something special, just wait ‘til they hear our music…

The drum roll intensified as Minty entered from the left wing of the stage and picked up his bass. More gasps and whispers were heard when the crowd caught sight of his jet black hair which had been gelled into several long spikes. He smiled and leaned into the microphone. “Now, is that any way to welcome us?”

The crowd began to cheer wildly. They were about to die from the anticipation. Dré’s drum roll grew even faster and louder and the spotlight went out for all of five seconds. When it turned back on, Robb was standing in front of a mic stand with Red around his neck. His wild blonde hair was reminiscent of Billie Joe’s nearly 70 years ago. He grinned maniacally and shouted, “You guys ready for something NEW?!”

The response was so overwhelming that the band members had to plug their ears for about 20 seconds.

Robb chuckled. “All right, I guess you guys are ready.”

Dré began the fast-paced introduction to Nice Guys Finish Last but it quickly slowed down into a new beat that no one in that entire dome, aside from the two bands present, had ever heard before. It was the introduction of a fresh, new song called Beginning Again. It didn’t take long for the pumped up audience to catch on to the chorus.

Just when the world thought we had reached the end, we are here, beginning again . We'll begin again. Just when they thought it was over, we came to bring the beginning closer. We are beginning again.

In that moment, with thousands of people singing his words back to him, Robb fully realized why Billie and Mike and Tré had done this for so long and why they loved it so much. It was the ultimate high that made you feel like you could conquer anything and anyone. In that moment, Chris was nothing more than a faded memory that meant absolutely nothing.

The New went through several more Green Day covers and before they knew it, an hour and a half had passed. They were exhausted and dripping with sweat. By now, Robb had taken off his shirt and thrown it to the moshers closest to the stage. “All right, we’re down to our last couple of songs. We’ve got—”

The crowd groaned and booed. They didn’t want this amazing night to end so soon.

“I know, I know, you don’t want it to end but we’re fucking tired. So, we’ve got three more songs for you and uh….here’s the thing: they’re all brand new.”

Every person in the crowd went absolutely ballistic. Their contagious energy perked up the band.

Backstage, Billie looked on with awe. “Ah, they love it, don’t they?” he said with a smile. It filled him with pride to see his love for music hadn’t been lost in his lineage, even after all these years.

Mike smiled back. “Nah, I think they hate it.”

Billie laughed. “Mike, you ass! Oh! Shut up, shut up, they’re about to do a song. Hey…where’s Tré?”

Before Mike could answer, they heard a loud, hissing “Oww, fuck!”

They turned to each other with a grin and simultaneously said, “Hot wings.” Then they turned their attention to the concert.

At that same moment, countless musical spirits (minus Ozzy Osbourne, Mick Jagger, and Marilyn Manson who were doomed to spend a decade in the fiery pits of hell) were doing the same thing. They cheered with the crowd down below as The New began playing yet another new song called Boredom Kills—a laid back pop-punk ode with an essence of Green Day’s Longview.

I’ll do what I can to keep my eyes open but it’s…impossible, if you will. You can say what you want and you can do as you like but remember: boredom kills.

“All right, this next one’s called One Last Night and uh…we hope you like it.”

I’ve missed every window of opportunity and it seems that life is just picking on me…

***

Robb’s throat ached and he was so hot he thought he was going to spontaneously combust, but he kept a smile on. They were down to their very last song and he knew he had to make this one count. This was the song that had taken his every shred of courage to write. This was the song that was going to set him free, regardless of whether or not Chris ever heard it. “This last song is called The Words I’ll Never Hear.” The crowd cheered then fell silent as Robb began with the a cappella introduction. His voice was slightly raspy and worn out but it stayed strong and true. Without hesitation, without a thought, you came and stole everything that I’d fought for. You don’t seem to care that I can’t sleep at night and if you ask me, that just isn’t right. Robb forced his sore fingers to strum Red softly. A soft, sweet melody poured from the instrument and enchanted anyone and anything within earshot.

Billie looked on with tears in his eyes which he quickly tried to blink away. The song contained a kind of magic that he’d only heard once before in another song the world loved and knew so well—Good Riddance, better known as Time of Your Life. This was a song that could bring people together. This was a song that would be played at graduations and other ceremonies. This was a song that would make history. Billie closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He wanted to cherish every precious second of this performance for he knew that this was the last night of normalcy for Robb and his band. With the success and fame that songs like The Words I’ll Never Hear brought came chaos and disaster. Billie knew this all too well.

I know I’ll never hear those words from you but take them from me, it’s the least you can do. Let me apologize for you.

“You guys have been great! Good night.”