Status: I haven't the heart to delete this after committing so much time to it, but I don't have the desire or time to update it either, so it will remain unfinished until further notice.
Green Day Saves the Day
Robb's Decision
Robb’s first instinct was to say no. After all, why should he bother with getting involved with something like this? He was getting along fine as he was. He had his friends, he had his tribute band, he had money—not a whole lot, but enough to keep himself in a decent apartment. But deep down, he knew—he knew—that he didn’t want to play someone else’s songs for the rest of his life. He wanted to do something meaningful. As all these thoughts raced through his head, he stared into Billie's green eyes. Billie was nervous as hell, but never did he let it show. He stared right back at Robb until he finally grasped his hand and allowed him to pull him to his feet.
"All right, I'll do it. I'll…save music,” Robb said. “Just don’t promise you won’t slap me again.” He tenderly rubbed his cheek.
Billie smiled, ignoring his latter comment. "I knew you'd come to your senses.”
“So, where do we start?"
"We’ll write a song. Well, you’ll write a song while I drink your crappy beer and yell at you."
"How am I supposed to do that?”
"What do you...You seriously mean to tell me that you don't know how to write lyrics?"
"N--yeah, pretty much."
"Shit. Okay all you have to do is...You just...Shit". This is going to be hard. "Robb, have you ever gone through a painful experience?"
"I broke my leg once."
"No, stup--! I mean...you know, emotional pain,” Billie said exasperated.
"I-I guess so. Nothing...recent.”
"Well I guess we'll have to make it recent then!"
Suddenly Billie Joe grasped Robb's arm and the 25-year old could feel his head begin to spin. Soon the room began to do the same. “What are you doing?!” Alarm and panic were evident in his voice.
“You’ll see,” was his great great great grandfather’s reply.
The colors in the room mixed and blurred—yellows, browns, blues, whites, and greens all melted together. The lights dimmed, and a heavy silence pressed down on the pair like a dead weight, making it difficult to breathe. Robb yelled but the spinning silence sucked the sound right out of his throat. He closed his eyes tightly and waited for it all to be over.
Just seconds later, the two of them landed with a shocking thud that knocked the breath back into Robb. He and Billie were no longer in his band’s dressing room. They were at his old elementary school, right beneath yellow monkey bars.
"How did you do that?" Robb asked, wide-eyed.
"Just a perk of being dead," Billie replied cheerfully. "All right, we're here for a reason. Something happened at this school that caused you pain. You're going to have to relive it for the sake of inspiration."
"Come again?"
Billie sighed heavily and searched for the best words to embody his thoughts. "You need a little blast from the past to help you come up with some lyrics."
"Oh."
"So, what happened here that was so bad, anyway?"
Robb's heart began to pound in his ears as he focused on a pebble on the ground. "N-nothing. I don't...remember."
"Come on, you know you do," Billie teased.
"I said nothing happened, all right?!" Robb's heart was racing now and his voice shook.
Billie's face hardened. He placed his hands on Robb's shoulders and stared at him intensely. "Robb. What happened?"
"All right, I'll do it. I'll…save music,” Robb said. “Just don’t promise you won’t slap me again.” He tenderly rubbed his cheek.
Billie smiled, ignoring his latter comment. "I knew you'd come to your senses.”
“So, where do we start?"
"We’ll write a song. Well, you’ll write a song while I drink your crappy beer and yell at you."
"How am I supposed to do that?”
"What do you...You seriously mean to tell me that you don't know how to write lyrics?"
"N--yeah, pretty much."
"Shit. Okay all you have to do is...You just...Shit". This is going to be hard. "Robb, have you ever gone through a painful experience?"
"I broke my leg once."
"No, stup--! I mean...you know, emotional pain,” Billie said exasperated.
"I-I guess so. Nothing...recent.”
"Well I guess we'll have to make it recent then!"
Suddenly Billie Joe grasped Robb's arm and the 25-year old could feel his head begin to spin. Soon the room began to do the same. “What are you doing?!” Alarm and panic were evident in his voice.
“You’ll see,” was his great great great grandfather’s reply.
The colors in the room mixed and blurred—yellows, browns, blues, whites, and greens all melted together. The lights dimmed, and a heavy silence pressed down on the pair like a dead weight, making it difficult to breathe. Robb yelled but the spinning silence sucked the sound right out of his throat. He closed his eyes tightly and waited for it all to be over.
Just seconds later, the two of them landed with a shocking thud that knocked the breath back into Robb. He and Billie were no longer in his band’s dressing room. They were at his old elementary school, right beneath yellow monkey bars.
"How did you do that?" Robb asked, wide-eyed.
"Just a perk of being dead," Billie replied cheerfully. "All right, we're here for a reason. Something happened at this school that caused you pain. You're going to have to relive it for the sake of inspiration."
"Come again?"
Billie sighed heavily and searched for the best words to embody his thoughts. "You need a little blast from the past to help you come up with some lyrics."
"Oh."
"So, what happened here that was so bad, anyway?"
Robb's heart began to pound in his ears as he focused on a pebble on the ground. "N-nothing. I don't...remember."
"Come on, you know you do," Billie teased.
"I said nothing happened, all right?!" Robb's heart was racing now and his voice shook.
Billie's face hardened. He placed his hands on Robb's shoulders and stared at him intensely. "Robb. What happened?"