Take Me Away To Paradise..., chapter 1
"I still don't get why you're making me go to this fucking party," I complained from the backseat of the van. Parties had never been my thing. I was out of college, no more studying, I had a decent job, I was doing fine money-wise—but my friends had decided I had no life. I'd dated my share of guys... none of which lasted more than a few months. I was mostly focused on my job as a chef. My second love after cooking was music, but seeing the way things in my life had turned out, joining a band and rocking out on stage in front of millions of people wasn't an option.
"You've got to get out there some more! Meet some guys... maybe ones that will actually last this time." My friend Alex chimed from the front seat. "Yeah, you can't just sit around listening to music in your apartment, when you're not working! Besides, I heard there's going to be lotsa hot guys at this one. And celebrities, too." Rachel, who was driving, lectured me once again.
Rachel and Alex had been the main boy-crazy girls of my group of friends. We'd all gone to the same college, all graduating in different majors, (Rachel, fashion; Alex, real estate; Courtney, the English Arts; and Sam, business and technology) and yet we stilled lived in the same area of California. The reason I had chosen to go to Berkley University was not only because it was a great school, but also because it was as far away from my parents as possible, who lived in New York. My parents had always been strict and controlling of my life—it was no surprise when they tried to bribe me from going to school so far away. They wanted to be involved with every detail of my life.
As for Courtney and Sam, they were more laid-back and relaxed. They also loved partying, unlike me. How I was friends with these people I'm still unaware of. For some reason I found myself being the tiniest bit glad that I was going to this party—now I could relate to them in some way.
We pulled up to a club mobbed with people. The shred of happiness I'd felt before was now gone—I hated huge groups of people. They intimidated me, in a way. But somehow Rachel, Alex, Courtney and Sam ushered me out of the car and into the club.
Right away I recognized famous people, which explained why the place was so jam-packed. Some band was playing on the stage, the rock music blaring from the speakers. "How did you get tickets here?!" I shouted at Rachel. "A friend!" She shouted back. Figures. Rachel hardly ever gets into details.
The music was still blaring and, as I was wishing for someone to turn it down, I suddenly realized how I knew the music so well. Simple Plan was playing on stage! Simple Plan was 50 feet away from me! I couldn't believe it. Sure, I lived in California, but that didn't mean I saw Simple Plan rocking out every night!
When I turned around to share my excitement with my friends, they were gone. Great, I thought. Now I'm stuck here by myself. Sighing, I went over to the bar and had a seat. "Gimmee a beer," I told the bartender. That was yet another subject my friends were always criticizing me on—my manners. If Alex were hear at the moment, she'd lecture me on how it wasn't ladylike to order a beer, and how I should've gotten a martini.
I took a long chug of the ice-cold Budweiser, feeling a bit more refreshed. I heard the guy sitting next to me laugh. Even better—I just had to be sitting next to some drunken idiot. "Never seen a girl down a beer that fast," He remarked.
I looked over at who was talking to me, and nearly spit out the beer that was in my mouth. Was it... could it be? Holy mother of God, it was! I was talking to Billie Joe Armstrong... holy shit! I began choking and spluttering like a jackass. He whacked my back in an attempt to get me breathing again. "Jesus... " I murmured.
He smiled. "You OK there?" I took a deep breath, blinked, and looked at him again. It was Billie Joe Armstrong. Of Green Day. Lead singer of my favorite band. One of my IDOLS. Was talking. To me. "Uh... I... uh... well... umm... yeah... uh... " I stumbled across the words like an idiot. He laughed and took a swig of his own beer.
"So I take it you know who I am," He grinned. My heart beat faster and faster. "YEAH!" I practically screamed. Damn. The one time I say anything to him, I sound like a freaking dumbass who's high. I guess the beer was getting to me at that point. I ordered another one.
"I mean, yeah! Billie Joe Armstrong! I love Green Day, they're the best fucking band ever... " I went on and on about how great he was before I realized how long I'd been talking. "Oh, jeez. You probably think I'm a jackass." I blushed. He only laughed again. "Naahh, at least you like the band... hey, what's your name?" His words slurred together.
"Technically, my name's Katherine. Tradition shit. My parents always like traditional stuff... but you can call me Katie." I wobbled a little in my seat. I hadn't been this drunk since... well, I can't really remember.
"I like traditional... but I like wild too. Are you wild?" He chuckled at his own remark. I laughed too. "Totally wild!" He began to laugh so hard I thought he would fall off the bar stool, which only made me crack up, too.
Our conversation went on like that. My friends never came by, and I didn't want them to. Everyone and everything around me blurred together, only he was visible. I lost track of how many beers I'd had at the point when he said, "My place is down there... wanna come hang?" The word "hang" made me think of monkeys hanging from trees, and I laughed hysterically. "Yeah... I'd love to hang!"
He helped me stand and we walked—slowly and wobbly—out the door of the club. It was a cool night for California, and I leaned into him as we walked. I remember talking about random things that came to mind, though I don't recall everything I actually said. Neither did Billie Joe, seeing as he was pretty out of it also. Everything about the night was hazy—so much so that I almost didn't believe it happened later on.
By the time we reached his apartment it was 2 AM, and we were both exhausted. I found myself lying on his bed, with him next to me, both of us still fully dressed. I remember I still had my Vans on. I remember my head lying against his shoulder, his chest rising and falling with every breath, as I slowly fell into a deep sleep.
"You've got to get out there some more! Meet some guys... maybe ones that will actually last this time." My friend Alex chimed from the front seat. "Yeah, you can't just sit around listening to music in your apartment, when you're not working! Besides, I heard there's going to be lotsa hot guys at this one. And celebrities, too." Rachel, who was driving, lectured me once again.
Rachel and Alex had been the main boy-crazy girls of my group of friends. We'd all gone to the same college, all graduating in different majors, (Rachel, fashion; Alex, real estate; Courtney, the English Arts; and Sam, business and technology) and yet we stilled lived in the same area of California. The reason I had chosen to go to Berkley University was not only because it was a great school, but also because it was as far away from my parents as possible, who lived in New York. My parents had always been strict and controlling of my life—it was no surprise when they tried to bribe me from going to school so far away. They wanted to be involved with every detail of my life.
As for Courtney and Sam, they were more laid-back and relaxed. They also loved partying, unlike me. How I was friends with these people I'm still unaware of. For some reason I found myself being the tiniest bit glad that I was going to this party—now I could relate to them in some way.
We pulled up to a club mobbed with people. The shred of happiness I'd felt before was now gone—I hated huge groups of people. They intimidated me, in a way. But somehow Rachel, Alex, Courtney and Sam ushered me out of the car and into the club.
Right away I recognized famous people, which explained why the place was so jam-packed. Some band was playing on the stage, the rock music blaring from the speakers. "How did you get tickets here?!" I shouted at Rachel. "A friend!" She shouted back. Figures. Rachel hardly ever gets into details.
The music was still blaring and, as I was wishing for someone to turn it down, I suddenly realized how I knew the music so well. Simple Plan was playing on stage! Simple Plan was 50 feet away from me! I couldn't believe it. Sure, I lived in California, but that didn't mean I saw Simple Plan rocking out every night!
When I turned around to share my excitement with my friends, they were gone. Great, I thought. Now I'm stuck here by myself. Sighing, I went over to the bar and had a seat. "Gimmee a beer," I told the bartender. That was yet another subject my friends were always criticizing me on—my manners. If Alex were hear at the moment, she'd lecture me on how it wasn't ladylike to order a beer, and how I should've gotten a martini.
I took a long chug of the ice-cold Budweiser, feeling a bit more refreshed. I heard the guy sitting next to me laugh. Even better—I just had to be sitting next to some drunken idiot. "Never seen a girl down a beer that fast," He remarked.
I looked over at who was talking to me, and nearly spit out the beer that was in my mouth. Was it... could it be? Holy mother of God, it was! I was talking to Billie Joe Armstrong... holy shit! I began choking and spluttering like a jackass. He whacked my back in an attempt to get me breathing again. "Jesus... " I murmured.
He smiled. "You OK there?" I took a deep breath, blinked, and looked at him again. It was Billie Joe Armstrong. Of Green Day. Lead singer of my favorite band. One of my IDOLS. Was talking. To me. "Uh... I... uh... well... umm... yeah... uh... " I stumbled across the words like an idiot. He laughed and took a swig of his own beer.
"So I take it you know who I am," He grinned. My heart beat faster and faster. "YEAH!" I practically screamed. Damn. The one time I say anything to him, I sound like a freaking dumbass who's high. I guess the beer was getting to me at that point. I ordered another one.
"I mean, yeah! Billie Joe Armstrong! I love Green Day, they're the best fucking band ever... " I went on and on about how great he was before I realized how long I'd been talking. "Oh, jeez. You probably think I'm a jackass." I blushed. He only laughed again. "Naahh, at least you like the band... hey, what's your name?" His words slurred together.
"Technically, my name's Katherine. Tradition shit. My parents always like traditional stuff... but you can call me Katie." I wobbled a little in my seat. I hadn't been this drunk since... well, I can't really remember.
"I like traditional... but I like wild too. Are you wild?" He chuckled at his own remark. I laughed too. "Totally wild!" He began to laugh so hard I thought he would fall off the bar stool, which only made me crack up, too.
Our conversation went on like that. My friends never came by, and I didn't want them to. Everyone and everything around me blurred together, only he was visible. I lost track of how many beers I'd had at the point when he said, "My place is down there... wanna come hang?" The word "hang" made me think of monkeys hanging from trees, and I laughed hysterically. "Yeah... I'd love to hang!"
He helped me stand and we walked—slowly and wobbly—out the door of the club. It was a cool night for California, and I leaned into him as we walked. I remember talking about random things that came to mind, though I don't recall everything I actually said. Neither did Billie Joe, seeing as he was pretty out of it also. Everything about the night was hazy—so much so that I almost didn't believe it happened later on.
By the time we reached his apartment it was 2 AM, and we were both exhausted. I found myself lying on his bed, with him next to me, both of us still fully dressed. I remember I still had my Vans on. I remember my head lying against his shoulder, his chest rising and falling with every breath, as I slowly fell into a deep sleep.
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