Shine a Light

Save the Whirly- Whirly

Okay, so I had become officially obsessed with Billie Joe. You would have thought that the novelty would have worn off by now but God dam it has only increased. The tour finished and he had been crashing at my house for two weeks. Waking up to him every morning made me start to love my most hated part of the day.
This particular day, was, thank fuck, the last signing of my book tour. Billie couldn’t understand why I would get a train back to my house every night despite the fact that he had developed a habit of walking around my house shirtless. Wasn’t glancing in a mirror enough of an answer for him? Idiot.
Marcus thought that this was hilarious; he was on the phone to me frequently addressing me as ‘comeback emo kid’ due to my small panic attack after Billie and I had gotten together officially.
“So when are you flying over?”
“Probably next week I think Marcus, Billie needs to go home anyway, he hasn’t been out the house for ages and yesterday he decided to try and cook…”
“What happened?”
“I need a new kitchen.”
Marcus chuckled as I leant backwards in my seat of the train. Another hour and I’ll be home.
“It sounds like you have a small child rather than a boyfriend.”
“Is that what you refer to Chris as? ‘Small Child’?”
“Oh all the time? Although we do get a few odd looks in public.”
“Can’t think why?” I sighed.
Marcus chuckled again.
“I best go Vera, small child will be in soon.”
“Bye Marcus.”
I sighed and plopped my phone back into my bag. I was looking forward to my bed, today had been such a long day and I couldn’t help but dread having to go to the store with Billie when I finally arrived home. He had rung me earlier that day saying that I had nothing in the fridge, when it was his fault after massacring my kitchen in his attempts to cook a meal.
My phone rang again, and in assuming it was BJ himself, I answered it without a glance at the caller ID.
“Hey Vera”
Shit. It was Gerard; I hadn’t spoken to him since that awful incident outside the MCR bus a few weeks ago.
“ER…Hey Gerard”
“Are you free to talk?”
“Sure” A deep intake of breath was all I heard over the phone.
“Vera I’m err, I’m sorry how acted with you, you know. I mean…”
“Gerard what are you talking about?” I shook my head, wondering why he was making a big deal over something not so mountainous.
“Well, I mean, since you haven’t called I suppose I thought that you were mad with me about what I said…you know…so…but, well, I’m ringing because I thought since Tre is taking me as his date to your friend’s wedding I better had clean the air you know.”
I withheld a giggle at Gerard.
“Are you drunk?”
“Gerard there was no problem you tit, I was just very busy with the rest of my book publicity.” Okay so I lied slightly,
“Oh, good” He chuckled down the phone.
“So we’re friends?” He asked
“Yes, we’re friends” I chuckled back
“So you, you’re going as Tre’s date?” I laughed
“Yeah” he chuckled, “Apparently it’s a gay wedding so Tre reckons there will be lots o very beautiful fag hags.”
I snorted, “Fag hags? Try more very beautiful trannies”
Gerard laughed, “Great, I’m more excited now…So are you bringing Billie?”
“Yeah. I think it will be nice for him, you know take his mind of the divorce”
“By bringing him to a wedding?”
“Okay smartarse I was concentrating more on the alcohol than the ceremony.”
Gerard chuckled again, before a deafening shriek erupted through the phone.
“Fuck! Gerard!”
“Sorry Frank decided to smack me around the head…he says Hi by the way.”
“Hi back Frank. Although I may not hear your reply”
Gerard chuckled again, “he says sorry”
“You scream like a girl”
“I do not” Gerard huffed, I could picture him pouting like a kid.
“Anyway I have to go” I sighed, “I’m nearly home”
“Okay, cool, see you soon”

That was weird, for Gerard to call at that particular time; I wondered what possessed him to just pick up the phone and ring me. He was right though, what he said and the moment he chose to say it was not a good thing. The Worry monster in my head hadn’t been put to sleep yet and I still woke up in the night thinking about moving to America, the divorce and meeting Billie’s kids. That and what all the papers would have to say about this. I would have to jot these memories down to make a really good serial killer character for my next book. I’m thinking Carrie with bangs.

I opened the door to my house, thoroughly exhausted and clutching a bag full of stuff that people had given me. This included an Edgar Allen Poe t-shirt and a Frankenstein toothbrush.
“Billie!” I yelled, my house seeming far too quiet.
“Billie! Where the hell are you?”
“V!” He suddenly came thundering down the stairs, clutching my straighteners.
“V! Check out my hair, what do you reckon?”
I looked up, at the mad style he had fashioned himself, “Billie have you spent all day doing this?”
“No” He spat. I cocked my head in disbelief,
“Okay, maybe the MAJORITY of the day… but look how awesome it is V.”
I rolled my eyes and giggled, “Yeah great”
Walking through to the kitchen I plonked my bag on the table.
“I take it you and your sexy hair didn’t find time to go the store?”
“I’m sorry V” Billie whined suddenly appearing behind me to give my cheek a quick kiss, “But I was scared of getting lost and mobbed and well…I don’t like the way you call shopping carts ‘shopping trolleys’ it’s just weird. I don’t think I could have coped with that on my own.”
I shook my head at him, “Want to go now? 24 hour store? Not many people about? We’ll have fun in Tesco.”
“Okay, lead the way.”

“See ha! Trolleys! So ridiculous”
“Oi! in less you want a ‘shopping cart’ in your knee shut up. Your attracting attention to yourself.”

He giggled and followed me into the huge Tesco about a block from my house. Of course it would be too much for him to act like a normal 34 year old and I soon found the trolley, cart or whatever the frigg its called, being piled high with sweets, beer, and general food that would give you a sugar heart attack. He also got spotted. It was some greasy red-haired kid with glasses who pulled at his mother’s cardigan then came slaughtering over with a weetabix box and a pen. Then he got his phone out, that wasn’t too bad, but when the 90 or so other people were reassured by this little ginger freak, that yes, this was Billie Joe Armstrong. We had to evacuate, loosing some casualties of whirly-whirly chocolate bars and the other case of Corona that Billie couldn’t fit under his left arm. Oh well, at least we had all our limbs.