Drunk in Paris

One lazy normal day, only a few days from my first spring in this city, a regular teenage customer, Camille, was browsing through the rails when she turned to me abruptly.
“Are you and Mme Vale going to the clothes convention tomorrow?”
I looked up at her from gazing lazily at the brooches in the glass cabinet under my arm.
“What clothes convention?”
She smiled, “It’s this huge convention in The Zenith, all new wave designers and labels are there to show off their spring collections.”
I shook my head, “Vale will probably go, I’ll be here I guess.”
She giggled, “I knew you wouldn’t know about it, you don’t live in the present.”
I smiled back at her, “For good reason… Are you going to this convention then?”
She laughed, “Of course I’m going, and I’m so excited, all kinds of famous people go with their clothing lines.”
I chuckled, “Is this why you haven’t bought anything for a while? Been saving for a ticket?”
She nodded, her dyed red hair flopping across her face, “Exactly, but I plan on buying this dress…”
She lifted up a blue 80s puff number from the rail and I chuckled, “I knew you’d buy that”
She sniggered handing over the money as I wrapped the dress up for her.
“Make sure you tell those rich famous people about this shop while you’re buying their cheap modern rubbish!”
I yelled after her as she trotted off towards the door.
“I will! Bye Ava!” she giggled, waving and disappearing from sight.
I sighed, reassuming my position across the counter, tapping my nails against the glass. I wonder if Billie Joe would be amongst those famous people tomorrow?
Yeah right and I’ve just seen a pink elephant fly past the window.

Mme Vale didn’t go to the convention; she was visiting a sick Aunt in Brittany so I was in charge. I think I was the only person not to go to this clothing event. The streets were empty today and it was very surreal to see the normally busy streets of Paris so deserted. I sat at the counter, the dreamlike sound of Danny Elfman’s theme music to Edward Scissorhands drifted through the air. Mme Vale adored this igniting melody; it certainly gave the store an air of mystery. I was currently flicking through an old pin up magazine when the bell chimed signaling a customer.
I didn’t bother to look up, choosing to continue to scan the photographs of Bettie Page and debating whether to cut my bangs in a similar style.
There was a sudden clatter and I looked up to see a bundle of clothes dropped at the foot of the railing in the centre of the shop. I rolled my eyes, hopping down from the stool behind the glass and clacking on my heels to the jumble on the floor. Why couldn’t people just be more careful? Picking up the clothes and clipping them to their hangers I carefully placed them back on the metal rail. My eyes caught through the spaces to the other side of the metal pole and I screeched, stumbling backwards on my red stilettos…

There…shining at me in the exact same way as I remembered, were a pair of the most glimmering, glossy, black kohl rimmed emerald eyes…they could only belong to one person…

Dreams of loneliness...
Like a heartbeat... drives you mad...
In the stillness of remembering what you had...
And what you lost...
And what you had...
And what you lost

I regained my position on those dangerous heels and time slowed down as my brown eyes met those green ones once again. My heart fluttered and somewhere inside a tiny wound healed against the beautiful mysterious song playing in the background. It must have been a good few minutes before I swallowed and blinked. Those eyes still gazed back into mine, shimmering light reflecting from the watery surface. This must be a dream…
It took a few moments for me to build up the courage to walk around the clothes rail, I didn't wnat to leave those eyes. What if they weren't his eyes after all? What if I was just dreaming this? Maybe I had died slipping on those trodden clothes and this was heaven.
But no, the clothes were safely back on the rack. I breathed and side stepped....

...every step I took felt like an eternity and my heart hammered so loud in my chest I was sure it could be heard over the eerie music playing on the old stereo.
I suddenly found myself turning the corner…
And there,
Right before my eyes,
He stood.
Trademark black tight jeans, matching black jacket and tangled messy hair that stuck up in all angles, framing that beautiful face of his so perfectly; that face mirrored mine of shock and we stood there, staring at each other, not quite believing our eyes. I blinked once more, making sure that this wasn’t some lucid dream or illusion, but every time my eyelashes parted he still stood there, not having moved nor taken his eyes from me.

We were about four steps apart from each other but the distance seemed miles, I wobbled slightly again on my heels as we continued to eye each other up like cornered animals in a forest. It was clear that neither of us could believe that fate had decided to drop us in the same place again,.
Neither of us wanted to make the first move or utter the first word. So we stood…and yes, there’s that flying pink elephant and it’s just come crashing through the store window.

I had dreamed of this every night since I had moved here, a situation where I would see him again had racked my inner most desires, but now that it was actually happening I didn’t know what to do.
Lost in my thoughts, Billie…yes THE Billie Joe Armstrong… swallowed, attempting to finally use his voice.
He took a step closer, which for me was a good sign as he clearly could have turned on his heel and darted from sight as fast as possible by now..
“Err…hey”
His voice croaked and my stomach churned at the sound, another tiny scar seemed to disappear from somewhere in my heart…
I shifted on my feet, “hello”
He blinked at my response, maybe he was counting on me elaborating. I couldn’t believe I had uttered that small hello back to him; I was half expecting to vomit on my dreaded shoes as soon as my mouth opened…
Billie took another tiny step closer to me.
He suddenly shook his head, his hair fanning with the motion before straightening back into place.
“Ava”
I couldn’t place whether it was a statement or a question and I wasn’t sure whether his head had shaken in utter shock or disgust.
“Billie Joe”
I croaked back, still not soaking in the events before my eyes. Oh God he looked so perfect, the stubble forming on his chiselled features, the way those jeans clung in all the right places…

“I…I was told that this place had some really awesome original 1970s punk Jackets.” He smiled, bending his head and flicking the backs of his hair.
That smile made my knees weak, oh god that crooked perfect smile…
“Err…yeah, yeah, they are just over here” I stuttered, clacking on my heels to the very back of the shop where the men’s jacket’s hung. I turned around sharply, making sure he was still there and he was…he was there and he was smiling.

Another tiny hole some where inside was filled…

I grabbed the first jacket that gave off the most debauched leather smell,
“Here, try this…”
He looked at me; eye shining as he slowly removed his own jacket. My heart beat thundered again as his bare tattooed arms came into view, arms that had once held me so strongly.
“Can you, err, hold this?”
“S…sure” I stammered taking his own jacket as he carefully slipped on the creased vintage one.
He turned to look in the mirror to his left. Puffing the collar out and smoothing down the sides.
His face lit into a grin, “This is awesome…”
It was true, it fit him like a glove, and he looked incredibly sexy in it.
“That Camel girl was right; this is pretty kick ass…”
I found myself chuckling, “Camel girl?” I questioned pulling another Jacket from the rail and handing it to him as he took off the first.
“Well it wasn’t Camel, but her name sounded like it, she asked for my autograph and we started talking about retro punk jackets and she said that I should come here.”

My brain thudded, Camel girl…he meant Camille…I made a mental note to give her a 50% discount on everything she ever bought here in the future, that girl did have some use after all…
Billie turned in this new jacket and rolled his shoulders, “I must say…” he began as he removed it, “I’m glad she suggested this place to me…”
I smiled unsure at his words as I passed him the last jacket, excited to tell him were it originated from… but my mind suddenly went blank at the words that smoothly passed from his lips.
“…for various reasons other than jackets…”
My stomach plummeted at his grin and I coughed as he took this newest jacket from me, smirking with those glinting eyes.
He slipped it on and I could tell immediately that THIS jacket was the one he should get, it fitted him perfectly, he looked so much like the ultimate rock star.
“I love this one” he smiled, pulling at the collar and hunching his shoulders.
I smiled, “I knew you would, that Jacket belonged to Mick Jones”
Billie turned to me, mouth hanging loose and eyes wide, “Mick Jones? THE actual MICK Jones?”
I nodded, biting my lip in amusement.
“I’m getting this one, right now, I wouldn’t care if it didn’t fit…I’ll have this…”
I nodded, “Do you want to leave it on?”
Billie nodded silently, mouth agape, staring at the jacket like Mick Jones was actually still in it.
“It suits you” I smiled, holding onto his previous jacket and walking behind the till.
Billie finally pulled himself away from his reflection, huge grin on his face.
“Wow… just wait until Mike hears about this, he'll be so jealous.”
I chuckled, tilling up the grimy leather and taking the credit card from his hand.
“Are you here for this convention thing then?”
He nodded, eyes gleaming and a small smile still visible on his lips.
“Yeah, with my clothes label, Adeline”
I nodded as I wrapped up his original jacket.
“Weird isn’t it?” he smiled taking the bag from my hands.
“What? That Mick Jones’ jacket fits you perfectly?”
Billie shook his head, “No, well that too but, no, I meant seeing you again actually.”
I looked down at the counter, a response failing me.

“Ava…I’m, well…do you…I mean do you want to catch up?”
I stared at him, chewing my lip in nervousness, “It’s been a long time”
He nodded slowly, eyes continuing to bore through me, waiting for a response.
I felt myself nodding, how could I say no?
“Okay”
He grinned, shifting on his feet, “Great…what time do you finish?”
I looked at the clock on the wall to my left.
“In an hour”
Billie nodded, “Okay, I’ll come back then”
I nodded slowly, pinching my hand under the counter, viciously pulling at the taught skin, mesmerized that this wasn’t a dream and I was awake, living this moment.
He turned, smiling at me as he left the shop.
I stood watching the path he had taken for a good few minutes, before feeling my head fall into my hands in disbelief.
I couldn’t believe it! I loved fate, I loved God…I LOVED Camille…
Was this a second chance?
Was this a reward for sorting out my life?
This hour would be the longest of my life…I didn’t understand how a chain of events had led him here…why did I deserve this chance?
I bet it wasn’t all what it seemed…I bet he had changed, he still hated me, the invitation asked out of pure politeness and he wa snow kicking hismelf for asking me that.

Cupid is seated on the skull
Of Humanity;
On this throne the impious one
With the shameless laugh
I hear the skull groan and entreat
At every bubble:
When is this fierce, ludicrous game
To come to an end?

Baudelaire was, like he always was, completely right, Cupid was indeed laughing at me, the girl who fell completely flat on her face in the pursue of Love. Something was bound to go wrong; nothing could ever be this perfect.