‹ Prequel: Union

Communion

The Changes

As that afternoon carried on, a three year old girl, appropriately named Michelle Cool, sat cross-legged on the veranda of her family's three and a half million dollar estate; a humble but fare mansion by Californian standards.

Her yellow sandle bearing feet rested against her inner thighs; matching that of the amber toned hat placed upon her head of sun bleached hazel hair. The young girl open-mindedly took in the sounds of birds chirping in the scattered oak trees surrounding the villa, her father scurrying around inside the house and the doorbell chiming in the front foyer.

As she contemplated getting up to check the front door, she pushed the Barbies that had been sitting in front of her, off the chair and onto the deck below her. These Barbies that had sat at her side, provided little entertainment to a child not attending school and lacking friends or company from a father many would sacrifice an arm and a leg to have as their own. Tré Cool. The man they all viewed as humorous and the most random of all the unpredictibles.

"Michelle! Ryan's here!" called her father's voice from within the many twists and turns of the 6,500 square foot house.

A grinnish smile spread across the three year old's face, as she leapt up off her favourite pink beach chair and ran into the house without a single thought or anymore contemplation. Hearing Ryan was over, was a sheer indication to Michelle that the man she viewed as her true father, was also there. Mike Dirnt. The man who had been there through the only times she could recall in her short-lived life.

"How's it goin' man?" she heard the bassist's voice boom through the corridors of the house as she impatiently ran towards the foyer with the mounted energy of her father.

Tre shut the front door as the company entered the house and began a short stroll out into the living room. "Not so good actually," Tre replied as he eyed Ryan and then Mike.

Mike stared at Tre for a brief moment and swallowed back a lump in his throat, before refixing his gaze on Ryan. "Cheerios, go see what Michelle's doin', 'kay?" Mike ordered his son politely.

"'Kay," the two year old responded quietly and without a fuss; exiting the room into the labyrinth of a house with the same subtleness.

"Cheerios?" Tre questioned as he raised his thin eyebrows sarcastically and found a seat on the couch.

"Yeah, you know...just a nickname. What's wrong though man?" Mike asked as he took a seat in a hot black leather lazy-boy diagonal the couch.

"Well...I just got off the phone with Billie...and Rose is a little bit upset," Tre began.

"Rose is upset?!" Mike gasped as he near accidently over-reacted by jumping out of his seat.

"Yes..." Tre drawled slowly as he raised his eyebrows at his taller friend, yet again. The drummer turned his ear back to the foyer as he heard Michelle and Ryan greet one another, and then returned his gaze back to Mike and gave the bassist a grin that could diconcert someone with brain dead mentallity.

"I mean...I meant, what's going on with Rose?" Mike asked as a droplet of persperation rid down his forehead.

Tre sighed and leant his head back on the crown of the chesterfield. "Nothin' man. She just got freaked out by the crowd and shit, I think."

"Oh..." Mike breathed with relief as he dropped his blue gazers to the floor. He ran his hand over his brunette gel-molded spiked hair as he started to heavily think of his friend's wife again. The image of her, frightened and alone in a large crowd made Mike fanatasize holding her protectively in his arms. Of course he knew she was there with Billie Joe; that is why he had decided to come over to her house today in the first place. Since that day Rose and he had the argument over Ryan, he had avoided the Cool's residence at all cost; seeing Tre only when the band was together in Billie's basement.

"Yeah, I only know half the story though. I'm sure there's a part Bill left out. I mean...Rose said she hated him," Tre added as he raised and shook his head.

"Oh really..." Mike exclaimed with a surprised tone. Mike now began to wonder what it was Billie did to poor Rose. There was an unsteady silence in the room as it was obvious both men were deep in thought. "So, are they like on their way here, like, now, then?" Mike asked as he looked near ready to leap from his seat again, should the drummer answer him a yes.

"Ah yeah, yes they are," Tre answered quietly as he let his thoughts rewind back to the conversation he had overheard between his wife and Green Day's frontman, Billie Joe Armstrong.

Mike lingered in his seat as more sweat waterfalled down his forehead and into the crevice between his neck and shoulder blade.

"This is kinda odd and an embarrassing thing for me to ask you. I think...fuck...uh...but...do you think I'm a good husband to Rose?" Tre asked his friend nervously, with barely a whisper.

Mike's face turned red with humility as he tried to decide the best way to answer his friend's question. "Well...jeez man, what kind of a question is that?" the blue-eyed bassist cooed in quick reactivity; answering a question with another question very manipulatively.

"I don't know, sorry man. I just feel like, maybe if I had paid more attention to her all this time, maybe I would have noticed some things about her I've shut out or completely put to the back of my mind." Tre let out a meaningful sigh.

"What are ya sayin'?"

"I dunno...like...d-do I ever act like I'm better than Rose?" Tre slowly got up from the chesterfield and paraded for the kitchen in embarrassment. "Fuck, I could use a beer right now," he whined.

"Oh yeah...me too," Mike laughed in a manner that showed stress relief.

Tre shot his eyes back at Mike with an impish grin upon his face. "You know, we're not supposed to drink anymore, but I've had a two-four sitting in a fridge in my basement for three and a half fucking years," Tre laughed.

Mike humorously looked shiftedly from side to side in acted paranoia, as though they were being watched. He hopped out of the lazy-boy he had parked himself on and said, "Let's go! After you Cool!" He gestured his hands politely.

"But of course..." Tre replied with the same acted politeness and began to lead the way. "Kids! We're going downstairs! Michelle, when your mommy gets home, come get me please! But don't send your mother down here, whatever you do!" Tre laughed as he began to descend down the basement stairs.

"Hey kiddo!" Mike shouted at Michelle as she froliced with her secret sibling in the foyer.

"Mwike!" Michelle's face lit up for joy when she set eyes on the tall bassist. She hugged his leg before Ryan got jealous and pulled her away.

"Cheerios, be nice!" Mike ordered.

"Sowwy."

"That's okay though Michelle, we're going downstairs. Like your dad said, just come get us when your mom comes home, please. And Ryan, we're only stayin' until Rose and your Uncle Billie get here. We gotta go then," Mike explained with little details.

"Otay," Ryan replied with a somber grin.

"Man, you comin' down?!" Tre shouted from the downstairs.

"Gotta go!" Mike smiled at the kids. Coming into the downstairs, the musician directly walked into a small room set up with a drum set and some recording equipment. "I don't know why we don't hang out in your basement more often man. It's a hell of a lot nicer than Billie's basement," Mike chuckled as he immediately kicked himself in the ass for puting his own foot in his mouth. He knew why he was glad they didn't work in Tre's basement ever. I'll give you an easy clue: it's a red flower with violent thorns.

Tre was leant into a tiny fridge, manfactured by Budweiser. He brought himself to an upward stance, and of all things, he had two bottles of Heineken in his hands. "Yeah, well you know...the old lady had a fun time redecorating while I was away. She did a nice job though. I don't mind, I love my pink flower curtains," Tre giggled as he passed off a beer to his friend and gave the curtain over the basement window a gentle tug. He scuffed his feet along the carpet before finding a seat on the stool behind his Ludwig drum kit.

Mike smiled as he thought of Rose and all the time they'd spent together whilst Tre was in prison for three years. As much as he hated discussing her with her husband, it was pleasant to hear her spoken name. "Yeah, Adi doesn't take the time to do that sorta stuff..." Mike replied as he scratched his chest plate.

"When are we going to discuss the name of our next album? I mean, I think we've agreed on which songs we're going to use..." Tre started, and was cut off by Green Day's bassist.

"Yeah but, ten songs? Do you think that's enough? I mean, none of our albums have been that lame before. This is supposed to be a special album. Billie better have some good fucking stuff planned for the title and concept," Mike said as he lowered his slanting eyebrows.

Tre laughed gently, "I know all you guys think this album is gonna be a bust. But I have high hopes for it. Right man...2014; twenty years hence Dookie, ten years hence American Idiot. Something good is going to come of this."

"What's going to come of good of this?" Mike asked with unassurance.

"We're going to be on top of the world again! Just me, you and Billie! Green Day! The Band of the Ages!" Tre yelled out dramatically with excitement. "And Rose, God I hope it makes her happy too. Wait...did that sound egotistical?"

"No man, it didn't. And, I mean...as far as your earlier question with Rose goes, I don't know if I'm really in a position where I can give you an untainted view on that."

"Whoa, "untainted"? That's a pretty deep word for you, Mike," Tre laughed again before returning his expression to one of worry and sorrow.

"Shut up," Mike retorted as he cracked open his bottle and chugged back the stale and refreshing, yet heavenly beverage inside.

"It's just, her birthday is coming up next month too. I think if..." Tre started again before he was cut off.

"What did she say on the phone?" Mike asked suddenly, as he re-raised his famous eyebrows with interest.

"On the phone?" Tre repeated before taking a greedy chug of his own beer. He let out a thirst quenched sigh after the bitter substance trailed down his throat. "Well...to be honest...she basically told Billie that she thinks I'm ashamed of her."

There was a silence as Mike tried to charade he knew nothing about this or anything of Rose's feelings about her husband. Which was a lie. Not a petty little white lie. But a nice big black one.

"Ah, is that true?"

"Hell no!" Tre shouted at his friend. He was alarmed Mike would even ask him such a question. The drummer took another sip of his Heineken and silently gargled it for flavour; savouring its taste. "Damn...that's good."

"Mmmhmm." Mike nodded and choose to ignore his friend's momentary anger towards him.

"I'm really worried now she thinks I'm a bad husband. I gotta do something really special for her for her birthday. Mike, help me man! Please!" Tre begged, quickly changing the subject himself.

Mike looked like he was in a thinking state as he remained mute for several moments. When he finally did break his silence, he grazed his chin as though he were still in thought and uncertain. "What's her favourite album?"

"Uh...Black Sabbath, Paranoid. Why?" Tre asked with confusion as he raised his eyebrows and tightened the muscles in his forehead.

"No, that's not what I meant. What's her favourite Green Day album?" Mike rephrased with more detail.

"Oh...umm...Dookie I think." Tre nodded with a sure smile.

"Okay, so your song for Dookie is All By Myself. Does she like that song?" Mike questioned, even though he already knew most things about Rose and all her interests.

"Hmm...kinda I guess. Not really. Well, she likes it when I sing, but more so when it's romantic and less...uhh...dirty," Tre laughed as he rolled his eyes and the skin over his cheekbones became flushed.

"Okay, that's cool. That's the idea," Mike advised, although he wasn't sure why he was doing it.

"What are ya gettin' at man?" Tre cross-examined as he took another big serving of the beer in his hand.

"Well, okay. When I was going out with Brittney, I took a copy of American Idiot, and gave it to her. She didn't really understand why I was giving her something we already owned..." Mike began to explain, before he was cut off by his friend.

"Why did you give her something you already owned?" Tre asked dumfoundedly.

"Let me finish! So anyways, I told her to listen to Homecoming and she was totally psyched when I went and changed all the lyrics to Nobody Likes You, just for her," Mike said with his cheeks now as flushed and red as Tre's.

"Whoa...you did that? And it worked?" Tre asked with wide eyes as he placed his hand over his mouth, thinking what a great idea it was.

"Yep," Mike breathed with a nod.

"Whoa, fuck Dirnt. I had no idea you could be so romantic," Tre giggled in a posed gay tone.

"Shut up!" Mike retorted before he began to laugh himself.

"At least I have track ten to surprise her with for Christmas," Tre smiled as he let a melody flow through his mind. It was that melody that always helped him to remember in prison, that someone was waiting for him on the other side and loved him with every inch of her being.

Mike just gave a nod.

"Meh..." the drummer replied as he threw down an empty bottle of beer on a small coffee table beside his drum set. Tre drew his thoughts back to his wife and the conversation she had shared with her cousin. She had for some odd reason mentioned Mike in her tantrum she obviously did not know her husband was listening in to. Tre could not make sense of it all in his mind, and wasn't sure he really wanted to.

'Yeah, well maybe you should fuck off! I don't give a fuck! You did that fucking on purpose!'

'Rose, no I fucking didn't! And stop fucking swearing!'

'Make me, you fucking prick! I can't believe you'd do that to me! You, of all fucking people, Billie Joe! FUCK!'


Small foot steps were heard acoming, down the basement stairs. A three year old girl dressed in yellow spoke with a tremored voice. "Mawmmy home."

Tre got up from his drum set and began to walk over to the small girl slowly. He could hear his wife's upset all the way downstairs and knew it must have been terribly upsetting for his daughter. With fatherly love, he leant down in front of the three year old and hugged her. "Thanks hun...thanks a lot."

"Welcome..." Michelle replied as she looked over her father's shoulder at Mike Dirnt sitting casually on a small couch. Mike raised his eyebrows at her and gave a tiny sympathetic grin of a smile.

"Hey..." Tre whispered to his daughter as he pulled himself out of their embrace and looked her in those emerald eyes, that just mirrored Rose's and Billie's. "Don't worry, 'kay? I'm going to go upstairs and see what's going on."

Michelle nodded and faintly began to cry as she heard more screaming and shouting coming from her mother and cousin Billie, upstairs. She watched as Mike got up from the sofa as though he were about to leave. Michelle drew her gaze back to her father and stared him in his sapphire eyes with a new formed trust for the amount he was comforting her at this moment. "I wuv you daddy..." she murmured under her breath.

Tre felt his heart sink as he heard his daughter profess her love to him for the first time ever. He smiled as a quick unstoppable tear came down his cheek and he brought her into an embrace again. "I love you too, hun. I love you too..."

"Shit! I hope Ryan's okay!" Mike shrieked as he began to run upstairs whilst Tre hooked his hands under his daughter's armpits and picked her up and rested her on his hip. She gave a tiny giggle as she sniffled up her tears, but quickly coward her head as soon as she heard the fighting upstairs continue.

'Tre! Where the fuck are you?!' Billie Joe's voice pulsated through the house like a long carried musical note.

"Come on 'chelle," Tre said to his daughter as he began to venture up the basement stairs. Swinging open the door Mike had closed behind him; the drummer stepped out in the foyer with his daughter in one arm. He automatically took notice of Billie Joe standing by the front door with bruises all over his pale face. He let out a gasp as he placed his daughter down and told her to go wait in her bedroom. The young girl ran off before even greeting her mother who was now sitting in the living room, silent and without emotion.

"Mike, what the fuck are you doing here? Tre man, you seriously need to talk to your fucking wife! I'm so sick of her emotional baggage, bullshit!" Billie Joe growled at his shorter but much stronger friend.

Mike didn't answer his friend, he just watched as Tre got up in Billie Joe's face in reaction to the comments he had just made about Rose. "You're a fucking dick, you know that?! Emotional baggage?! Fuck you Bill!"

"Oh, you wanna go?! I'll take you right fucking now!" the small and fiesty musician threatened with boldness.

"I'm not going to beat you up, man! It looks like Rose already did a beautiful fucking job!" Tre shot back with a smirk, as he eyed Mike leant down beside his son; helping him put on his tiny runners.

"Don't you even fucking want to know what the hell happened?!" Billie Joe retorted at his friend as he turned his head and looked out into the living room where Rose was sitting quietly.

"Bill, I fucking love Rose! But no...I don't think I really do want to fucking know! Least of all from you! All I know, is you've been a dick to her and you can get the fuck out of my house and off my fucking property, right fucking now!" Tre excelled his voice like a Fender bass booming through a Marshall amplifier.

"Fuck you..."Frank"," Billie Joe mocked the drummer as he made the quoting gesture with his hands and turned around to see Mike picking up his son. He turned back around quickly to snap at Tre. "You wanna know who you should really be fucking angry at right now?!"

Tre stared at Billie Joe and just shook his head as he waited for the smaller man's answer. He was almost positive Billie was going to insist he should be mad at himself.

"Mike! This guy, right fucking here!" Billie Joe said as he turned around again and placed his hand on Mike's shoulder roughly. For a brief moment he stared Ryan in his jade coloured eyes and felt someone walk over his grave as he came to a realization and an explainable shudder rid up his spine.

"Mike?" Tre asked as he scratched the top of his head of thinning hair. He dropped his gaze to the floor as he became more and more uncomfortable.

Billie stepped back from Mike and Ryan and turned back to Tre slowly. "Fuck it...I'm not going to even fucking get into it. I'll let you talk this shit over with Mrs. Woe-Is-Fuckin-Me sitting out there, NOT FUCKING ADDING TO THE CONVERSATION, SHE FUCKING STARTED!" Billie shot out loud enough for Rose to hear. He quickly took off out the front door in a huff, slamming it shut behind him.

Tre looked up from the floor and across the foyer to where Mike stood with his heart beating out of his chest. The look he gave Mike was another disconcerting one that commanded explanation and showed distrust. But the look Mike returned was one that showed fear, yet that he was unwilling to say a damn thing.

"I gotta go..." Mike said to the drummer quietly as he felt himself begin to shed tears he simply would not allow his friend to see. With that he took his son and slowly followed in Billie's footsteps out the front door.

Tre stood staring at the door after it was closed and he let out a confused and disgruntled sigh. He scratched his head yet again and turned his gaze towards where he could see his wife sitting on the living room couch. He shook his head incessantly and ruffled his hair, as he tried to make sense of it all, but still couldn't figure out a single thing. He was beginning to want an explanation and about ready to demand one...

"Rose..."