Please Don't Make Me Beg
Chapter 1
The mosh pit was starting to fill up, and I searched the faces to see if I could find Andi. So many hair colors--but there was her blue ponytail, bobbing excitedly just in front of the catwalk. She was exactly where she wanted to be, and Evan was by her side, arm draped protectively around her shoulders.
From my seat, I couldn't help smiling down at her. When John had come into my office two months earlier and asked me if I wanted tickets to see Green Day, I almost hugged him, even though he is my manager.
"Maybe your daughter would enjoy these, Li. I'm too old for punk," he laughed.
"So am I, but I love it anyway, and Andi lives and breathes Green Day. How much do you want for them?"
"Actually, one of the distributors that delivers to the arena gave them to me, so since I'm not out anything, you can have 'em for... how about nothing?"
"Sounds like a good deal to me!" I exclaimed. "Are they good seats?"
"Hmm...Well, I thought it was a pair of lower levels, but it looks like there's one seat and a pair of floor tickets. Do any moshing lately?"
I had to laugh. "Not likely. I guess that means Andi can take Evan with her. I'll take the seat with the rest of the 'old folks'."
"They getting serious?" he asked, no longer grinning.
"Eight months seems fairly serious at this age to me. He'll be graduating at the end of this year, you know. I hope I don't end up with a heartsick junior on my hands," I replied.
As I watched them now, heads dipping up and down to "Helena," I thought how grateful I was to Evan for making her so happy. He was like my own son, and even though I wanted her to go to college, I quietly hoped they'd end up married in a few years. He was wonderful for her, in so many ways, and it was good to see them having so much fun together.
MCR finished their set to thunderous applause, and I was looking forward to borrowing their CD from Andi so I could hear more. She had been almost as excited about seeing them as she was about Green Day, but most of their music was new to me. Not much time to listen to the radio where I work. But Green Day, now that was another story...
I had loved those guys since before she was born. Loved 'em from "39/Smooth" right on up through "Warning." It tickled me now to see Billie Joe wearing button-down shirts and ties--back when I was in school, and they were still the punk clowns blowing snot out into the audience, I wore oxford shirts and slouchy ties just to make fun of the preps I went to school with. Now my favorite hell-raiser was doing the same thing, except he looked a lot better in them than I ever did. Always did feel like we were kindred spirits in some weird, other-life way.
My fingers kept fiddling with the green guitar pick I'd caught years earlier when I'd seen them. I brought it with me just for old times' sake, and hoped Andi would be able to catch one of Tre's many drumsticks or some other memento from the show. They were so good at making the fans feel close, as though we were all at a big party instead of a crowd of eight thousand. It was like magic.
The pink bunny finished his drunken stroll around the stage, and suddenly the lights dimmed. The solo trumpet from "2001--A Space Odyssey" brought the whole crowd screaming out of their seats, and then there they were--Tre, Mike and Billie Joe, hitting the stage like furies, slamming into "American Idiot" with the force of a hurricane. Billie Joe's voice ripped through the arena, full of fire and power, and his guitar was a snarling animal whipping his fans into a frenzy. He looked even better than I remembered him, strong, muscular arms raised to bring us to our feet, green eyes flashing darkly.
I was breathless at the sight of him.
I didn't sit down, didn't stop screaming, during the whole show. The music was, as always, like electricity in my veins, and I felt like I could kick the world's ass. But this time there was something else, something I felt uncomfortable admitting.
He was so wild, so frenzied, and every time I saw that adorable, slightly crooked grin, my knees turned to pudding. Shit, this was ridiculous. I was here with my own daughter, and she was probably thinking the same things about him. I needed to act like a mom, not make a fool of myself drooling over a guy who was...younger than me.
My God, he was magnificent. His arms were corded with muscle after years of attacking his guitar, and his shirt was soaked with sweat from running the length of the stage and leaping impossibly high in the air. The spikes of his black hair were a riot that framed his eternally cute face, and those eyes, green as emeralds, spit fire as hot as his little butt. His lips were passion itself, full and soft one moment, then tightening into an animal snarl the next as he stood, arms spread, commanding his audience.
I knew it was coming, but when he dropped the back of his pants, mooning the audience, I screamed like a little girl.
The finale came much too soon, and as Billie stood alone playing the last notes of "Good Riddance," silhouetted against a single spotlight, I felt a lump in my throat. All those weeks of anticipation and it was over so fast. Well, they'd be back, and we'd be there, guaranteed. Still...
As I made my way through the crowds streaming to the exits, I looked toward the floor where Andi said she'd wait for me. I had to fight the flow of people heading in the opposite direction, and when I reached the bottom of the steps, most of the crowd had already made their way out. So where was she?
I barely heard my phone ring from the depths of my purse. "Hello?"
"Mom, it's me. Evan and I were heading toward the exit to wait for you, and we ran into Dan. Is it okay if we ride home with him?"
"Are you going straight home?"
"We'll probably stop and eat on the way, 'kay?"
"Sure. Just be back by about 1:30. You've got band practice tomorrow morning."
"No prob. Thanks, Mom!"
She was gone before I could tell her I loved her. I turned and started back toward the main entrance of the stadium, when a thought hit me, stopping me in my tracks.
Where would those buses be parked, I wondered? Nahhh, there would be a crowd there, and I'd stand out like a nun at a singles bar. Might as well head on home and listen to some Green Day on the way.
Or not... Before I knew it, I found myself wandering out toward the back parking lot. The smell of diesel exhaust told me I was getting close, and I could hear the massive engines idling like sleeping tigers. Sure enough, there was a group of excited kids gathered behind a roped-off area around the exit ramp, and a couple of good-natured security guys were laughing and goofing around with them. God, I felt out of place.
I hung back for a little while, asking myself what in the world I would say if I did happen to meet the guys. My fingers found the guitar pick, and my smile crept back like a guilty puppy. Maybe I could just ask for a new one, a souvenir from this show with the next generation of Green Day fans, including my own daughter.
Sudden screams stabbed my ears, and as the crowd surged forward, a single figure, silhouetted against the light, loped toward us...
From my seat, I couldn't help smiling down at her. When John had come into my office two months earlier and asked me if I wanted tickets to see Green Day, I almost hugged him, even though he is my manager.
"Maybe your daughter would enjoy these, Li. I'm too old for punk," he laughed.
"So am I, but I love it anyway, and Andi lives and breathes Green Day. How much do you want for them?"
"Actually, one of the distributors that delivers to the arena gave them to me, so since I'm not out anything, you can have 'em for... how about nothing?"
"Sounds like a good deal to me!" I exclaimed. "Are they good seats?"
"Hmm...Well, I thought it was a pair of lower levels, but it looks like there's one seat and a pair of floor tickets. Do any moshing lately?"
I had to laugh. "Not likely. I guess that means Andi can take Evan with her. I'll take the seat with the rest of the 'old folks'."
"They getting serious?" he asked, no longer grinning.
"Eight months seems fairly serious at this age to me. He'll be graduating at the end of this year, you know. I hope I don't end up with a heartsick junior on my hands," I replied.
As I watched them now, heads dipping up and down to "Helena," I thought how grateful I was to Evan for making her so happy. He was like my own son, and even though I wanted her to go to college, I quietly hoped they'd end up married in a few years. He was wonderful for her, in so many ways, and it was good to see them having so much fun together.
MCR finished their set to thunderous applause, and I was looking forward to borrowing their CD from Andi so I could hear more. She had been almost as excited about seeing them as she was about Green Day, but most of their music was new to me. Not much time to listen to the radio where I work. But Green Day, now that was another story...
I had loved those guys since before she was born. Loved 'em from "39/Smooth" right on up through "Warning." It tickled me now to see Billie Joe wearing button-down shirts and ties--back when I was in school, and they were still the punk clowns blowing snot out into the audience, I wore oxford shirts and slouchy ties just to make fun of the preps I went to school with. Now my favorite hell-raiser was doing the same thing, except he looked a lot better in them than I ever did. Always did feel like we were kindred spirits in some weird, other-life way.
My fingers kept fiddling with the green guitar pick I'd caught years earlier when I'd seen them. I brought it with me just for old times' sake, and hoped Andi would be able to catch one of Tre's many drumsticks or some other memento from the show. They were so good at making the fans feel close, as though we were all at a big party instead of a crowd of eight thousand. It was like magic.
The pink bunny finished his drunken stroll around the stage, and suddenly the lights dimmed. The solo trumpet from "2001--A Space Odyssey" brought the whole crowd screaming out of their seats, and then there they were--Tre, Mike and Billie Joe, hitting the stage like furies, slamming into "American Idiot" with the force of a hurricane. Billie Joe's voice ripped through the arena, full of fire and power, and his guitar was a snarling animal whipping his fans into a frenzy. He looked even better than I remembered him, strong, muscular arms raised to bring us to our feet, green eyes flashing darkly.
I was breathless at the sight of him.
I didn't sit down, didn't stop screaming, during the whole show. The music was, as always, like electricity in my veins, and I felt like I could kick the world's ass. But this time there was something else, something I felt uncomfortable admitting.
He was so wild, so frenzied, and every time I saw that adorable, slightly crooked grin, my knees turned to pudding. Shit, this was ridiculous. I was here with my own daughter, and she was probably thinking the same things about him. I needed to act like a mom, not make a fool of myself drooling over a guy who was...younger than me.
My God, he was magnificent. His arms were corded with muscle after years of attacking his guitar, and his shirt was soaked with sweat from running the length of the stage and leaping impossibly high in the air. The spikes of his black hair were a riot that framed his eternally cute face, and those eyes, green as emeralds, spit fire as hot as his little butt. His lips were passion itself, full and soft one moment, then tightening into an animal snarl the next as he stood, arms spread, commanding his audience.
I knew it was coming, but when he dropped the back of his pants, mooning the audience, I screamed like a little girl.
The finale came much too soon, and as Billie stood alone playing the last notes of "Good Riddance," silhouetted against a single spotlight, I felt a lump in my throat. All those weeks of anticipation and it was over so fast. Well, they'd be back, and we'd be there, guaranteed. Still...
As I made my way through the crowds streaming to the exits, I looked toward the floor where Andi said she'd wait for me. I had to fight the flow of people heading in the opposite direction, and when I reached the bottom of the steps, most of the crowd had already made their way out. So where was she?
I barely heard my phone ring from the depths of my purse. "Hello?"
"Mom, it's me. Evan and I were heading toward the exit to wait for you, and we ran into Dan. Is it okay if we ride home with him?"
"Are you going straight home?"
"We'll probably stop and eat on the way, 'kay?"
"Sure. Just be back by about 1:30. You've got band practice tomorrow morning."
"No prob. Thanks, Mom!"
She was gone before I could tell her I loved her. I turned and started back toward the main entrance of the stadium, when a thought hit me, stopping me in my tracks.
Where would those buses be parked, I wondered? Nahhh, there would be a crowd there, and I'd stand out like a nun at a singles bar. Might as well head on home and listen to some Green Day on the way.
Or not... Before I knew it, I found myself wandering out toward the back parking lot. The smell of diesel exhaust told me I was getting close, and I could hear the massive engines idling like sleeping tigers. Sure enough, there was a group of excited kids gathered behind a roped-off area around the exit ramp, and a couple of good-natured security guys were laughing and goofing around with them. God, I felt out of place.
I hung back for a little while, asking myself what in the world I would say if I did happen to meet the guys. My fingers found the guitar pick, and my smile crept back like a guilty puppy. Maybe I could just ask for a new one, a souvenir from this show with the next generation of Green Day fans, including my own daughter.
Sudden screams stabbed my ears, and as the crowd surged forward, a single figure, silhouetted against the light, loped toward us...