Queen of the 40 Thieves, chapter 53

***Another excerpt from M.I./Whatsername's letter***

The airport was kind of lonely at the time we got there, so we didn't have to wait in line or anything to get our IDs checked and the tickets we had reserved. I looked all around me wondering why the airport was so lonely, if it was a holiday season and supposedly people should be moving from one state to the other, visiting family and friends to spend the holidays with them. But just while everything was being checked by the young woman behind the American Airlines counter, and my mind was wondering about things that had really no importance to me, Mike Dirnt appeared walking up to us from the distance of the entrance of the airport. It was a big surprise to see him there, I might add, so I stared in his direction until he was close enough to us like for me to know for sure that it was him.

"Jenny," I finally spoke turning my attention to my daughter, who was saying something to the American Airlines employee that was tracking or reservation in the computer system.

"Huh?" she muttered turning her head around to face mine.

"Is that Mike?" I said pointing my index finger discretely in his direction.

"Yeah," she said without much surprise in her voice, but before I could even raise an eyebrow and look at her with questioning eyes, she spoke again, "Yeah, I think that's Mike! What do you think he's doing here?" this time her voice sounded surprised.

"I don't know. I actually was wondering the same thing," I said taking my eyes off of him only to turn around and look at my daughter as I shrugged my shoulders. Just about five seconds after I felt a hand touching my shoulder, I turned around with exaltation more as an instinct than anything else, because in the back of my mind I knew it was Mike. "Hi Mike... what's up?"

"I'll tell you in a second," he said to me and moved his blue eyes in the direction of the girl working behind the counter, "Excuse me miss, is there any possibility for me to get a ticket for the flight to Chicago that this couple of girls are taking?"

"Yes sir," the girl said, there was some sort of shocked expression covering her face that until that moment had been very monotonous, let's say.

"Okay... and is there any chance for my seat to be right next to theirs?" he asked gesturing with his hands.

"Let me check," said the girl from the other side of the counter, "Ummm... yes, you can get a seat next to theirs," she finally said after checking on her computer as she handed Jenny and I our tickets; immediately after that, we stepped aside to let the bassist get closer to the counter to buy his ticket. It took him just a few minutes before he was ready to go with us and pass through security and everything else before we could board the airplane.

"So... what's up Mike?" Jenny asked as we walked through the airport that Mike seemed to know pretty well and that we were getting already kind of used to.

"Mmm... well... oh crap! Let me call Billie first, I walked pass his car when I walked in the airport and I didn't tell him what was up, so he must be wondering right now... he must be worried," he said at the same time as he got his small cell phone out of one of his pockets, "Yeah, so I'll tell you in a second," he said dialling a number, "I gotta call Billie before I forget so... Hi Billie," he finally spoke into his phone, "No, is just that my mother called me like two hours ago to tell me my sister was on a car accident in Chicago... yeah but she says that my sister is okay, but I'll go up there just to make sure she's fine and that she doesn't need anything... yeah, you know how my mom is, besides, the last time someone in the family was in a hospital it was my mom's nephew, and my mom assured me he was okay, next thing I know, he was dead... yeah, so yeah, I'll just make sure she's doing fine, I'll be back soon... yes, I will... yeah I'm okay... I'll call you if anything happens... I know, I will. And could you please call Tré and let him know? Okay, thanks Billie... yeah, I'll call you... bye." He sighed and ended the call before putting his phone back in his pocket, then, he turned his head around to face me and my daughter, "So did you hear what I said to Billie?"

"Yes," Jenny said, I just nodded my head.

"Well, that's basically it... my sister is in Chicago with her fiancé's family and they were driving back home from a Christmas party when I drunk idiot hit their car with his big car."

"That's exactly what happened to Emma, except they weren't driving back from any Christmas part," I commented.

"I'm sorry," Mike said.

I nodded my head, "So your mom says she's fine?"

"Yes, she told me that the doctors are seeing her, and that even though they haven't let my mom see her yet because she hasn't waked up yet, they say she's okay."

"Is this your real mother or your adoptive mother you're talking about?" Jenny questioned.

"Why do you wanna know?" your best friend for the last couple of decades asked.

"Because I'm a curious fan with a great chance to ask everything she ever wanted to know about her favourite band," she said with a wide smile.

Mike let out a small laugh, "Well, it's my adoptive mom we're talking about." Just as he spoke we got to the place where security and the police check you and your belongings to make sure you don't have any weapons or stuff.

We got told to take off our shoes and jackets or sweaters.

"This is really stupid," Mike commented as he took of his shoes, "They make you get almost naked, but there are still people who go through this "security system" taking weapons enough on them to hijack an airplane and smash it against a building killing thousands of people, and then, what's the only thing the government does to prevent those actions? Well, to kill more thousands of innocent people, justifying it by saying that those innocents are terrorists, and make you get almost naked in an airport. Here's what I'd say to George Bush, "if you don't kill those innocents you won't have as many enemies as you have, so you won't have as much terrorism against our country". I mean, how can you stop violence with more violence? We kill those people because we think they're terrorists, and when we go there and kill them, they think we're terrorists, so they come here and kill us. It's a cycle, and seeing how things are going, it will never end... and if the airports weren't so cold, then you would still have people getting naked for the officers to see. Besides, if I wouldn't get arrested for getting naked here, I'd do it voluntary!" he said very quickly, always keeping himself very busy, whether it was taking off his shoes and jacket, or picking them up after going through security and putting them back on. Yet, I could feel like every time he looked passed me, he would look at my arms, seeing as I had taken off my jean jacket, leaving my pink t-shirt and arms uncovered; the security officers didn't bother in hiding the fact that they were staring at my cuts, which Mike also noticed as well before adding the part of "getting naked for the officers to see" to his wonderful speech.

"For a moment I forgot I was talking to one of the authors of American Idiot, but you just reminded me," I commented with a laugh as I put back on my jacket just as we were already walking to the gate from which we were going to embark the plain.

"American Idiot? What's that? What the hell are you talking about? Is that some kind of joke? No wait... I get it... you're calling me an idiot!" he finally said loudly, attracting some looks from other people in the airport.

"Oh Mike, just shut up and walk," I said patting his back as we continued walking to the gate, and while we were getting there a thought passed through my mind, but finally, we sat down on the seats by the gate where we would be getting on board in fifty minutes or so; just then Mike took a look at his ticket, which was for the seat next to Jenny's and mine.

"Economy class?" he questioned looking at the ticket he had on his hand, "I thought you had money enough to afford a couple of first class tickets."

"I do have money enough to afford them, I just don't want to afford them. I'd rather to spend my money on something better and more useful than a more comfortable seat that I'll use for just a few hours," I said.

"I love your thinking," your blue-eyed friend said.

I nodded my head, "But I'm sorry, I should have warned you that our seats weren't first class ones. I know you're used to get better things and treatment than most of us."

"Shut up," he laughed. "It's perfectly fine, I don't mind at all to travel in the economy class, as you said, the main difference is the seats, on the first class they are bigger, and considering how skinny I am, I don't need a bigger seat... it's just that I know you win a lot of money working for the paper, and like I'm used to always travelling with the first class, it's something that I kind of take for granted, if you know what I mean."

I nodded my head again, "Are you sure it's okay though?"

"Yeah... by the way, do you have the phone number of any hotel in Chicago? Because I really don't remember in what hotel we stayed during our tour... and besides, I'd rather not to stay at some fancy hotel."

His words made me slap the thought I had had running through my head since we were walking to the gate, and try to forget about that idea, thinking that it was just me being paranoid.

"Haha... now you're getting cheap. But why do you want a hotel in Chicago if I live there?" I finally spoke.

"Because I'm not staying at your place," your taller friend said simply.

Yep, the theory that I was trying to put together in my mind was just falling apart before having some sense.

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not, I don't want to bother."

"And you won't bother... the same way that you, Billie and Tré made me stay at the place of any of you, I will make you stay at my place. It might not be as big and fancy as your mansions, but it's a really damn big place with five rooms and everything, you know? Besides, since now you're getting cheap, what could possibly be cheaper than a place where you won't have to pay not even a dollar?"

"Well, okay, so I guess I'll stay at your place... mmm... I'll be right back now though, because I need to pee," Mike said getting from the chair where he was sitting and then walking to the men restroom.

When he was completely out of sight for us, Jenny turned to me and whispered, "Mike can't stay at our place."

"Why not, Jenny?"

"Because he can't see my room, I'll die if he does," she said sweetly.

"Oh sweetie, don't be so silly." She rolled her eyes at me as I broke into a hearty laugh, and as I was still laughing, Mike walked back from the restroom to where we were sitting.

"What's up?" he said after noticing I was laughing.

"Oh nothing... just, girl's stuff," Jenny said blushing slightly, Mike just rolled his eyes and sat where he was sitting before going to the bathroom.

"So we still have thirty-two minutes of waiting before they start to let us get on board," he said looking at his watch, "There's a Starbucks close to the next gate, so why don't we go to get some coffee?" Mike suggested.

"Sure... let's go Jenny." My daughter just nodded her head as we got up and walked to the Starbucks where we got some coffee.

Soon, half an hour had gone by, and they started to call to the first class passengers of our flight to board the plane, so now we just had to wait until they called the section where our seats were located.

"Is it always like this?" I finally asked while we still were waiting.

"What?" Mike asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Do people always stare at you every time you go out, in any country you are?"

"Well, just when I'm not wearing a baseball hat or something," he said with a small laugh, "And it also depends on a few things. Like when I'm with Billie there's even more people staring at us, and when is the three of us, everybody stares at us. It also depends of the place, if it is full of teenagers, they'll sure stare at you and stuff, most even come up to you."

"I'd be staring at you if I didn't know you already," Jenny commented with a shrug of her shoulders. Mike and I just laughed.

"Doesn't it bother you though?"

"I got used to it a really long while ago, around the Dookie era. But usually it doesn't bother me, I mean, like right now, no. It's just part of what I do, and I love what I do... plus, it makes you feel that all your effort is worth it when you see you can make someone smile, when you hear about how your music has deeply affected someone's life for good... but then, when you're like on a date or something, and everyone's eyes are on you, while you feel like kissing the girl sitting there in front of you, holding your hand in hers and wanting to be kissed, it sucks, because it's supposed to be a private moment, but it's not private anymore, because it becomes something public that everyone thinks that it's their business, you know?"

"Poor you," I said with puppy dog eyes.

"Poor me," Mike said pretending a sob.

"But I know what you're talking about... that's why I always say this to all the people who work for me in the music section of the paper: "If we're talking about who kissed who in what restaurant, we're doing something wrong." I always make my people write about music, instead of the artists' personal lives, except for when an artist dies."

"That's probably why your articles and the music section in general of the paper where you work are so popular. Every time we play in Chicago, we get told about how important the gig is because an article will be written about it and, surprisingly, punk kids we'll read it. I did some research about your articles and understood why we always got told that in Chicago. You seem to be really respected in the punk scene of Chicago."

"You have doing your homework, Michael Pritchard," I said blushing; he laughed briefly and nodded his head. "Well, I guess it also has to do that the real punk kids that go to every punk show that takes place in Chicago, whether it is in a big arena or a small basement, are used to seeing me around every show, always there standing in line to get in the mosh pit, and then when anybody starts talking to me I just act like everyone else, I'm shy at first and then I feel more comfortable, and they see that I'm not faking anything because if they ask me about any other punk band, I'll have an opinion about, and when, at some point of the day someone asks me where do I work or something, being surprised at the fact that I'm a parent with some really bright hair colour and piercings and tats, and I say that I'm the writer of the music-related articles for the Illinois paper, they always go like "Whoa, I thought someone with your work would have some kind of special pass with access to the backstage and everything". So I don't know... a lot of those kids know me and Jenny already and go up to me to say hi and everything when they see me at some show... I guess that has a lot to do with my success at work... the hair usually has a lot to do with it though, if you ask me," I finally added along with a laugh.

"So you go to every concert that takes place in Chicago?" Mike asked with shock.

"Oh no... just the punk shows... I'm always the one to write about punk concerts, the rest of the shows are usually covered by someone else of my team. But I've been to quite a few other shows of rock bands I like or stuff like that... and I've also gone to a few concerts I hate... the paper always pays for my ticket though."

"Haha... that's cool," he said smiling before a short silence fell on us. "I'm gonna go say hi," he said out of blue, getting up and walking up to where the group of people who were staring at him were standing. They were three girls, and a guy. Two of the girls were around Jenny's age, the guy seemed to be almost in his 30's and the other girl must have been around our age.

Mike stood there with them for a while, until they announced it was our turn to get on the aircraft, just then, he waved at the group of people and came back to us.

"What's up Mike?" I asked curious about why he was smiling.

"Nothing much... I was just talking to them... the guy is a drummer, inspired by Tré, the shorter girl is his sister, who is learning to play the guitar inspired by Billie; the older girl is the one with the pink and blue highlights on her hair, she said she saw us playing once at Gilman, she's one year younger than me, she used to live in Rodeo, and the other girl, the blonde one, is her younger sister, who admitted masturbating while watching me on pictures, videos and stuff, which was very embarrassing by the way; they are cousins with the other two. It's good to find fans who also appreciate our old music and know we're not a new band...they also asked if you were my girlfriend or something."

I laughed nervously, "And what did you tell her?" I finally questioned as we were already inside the airplane.

"I said you are a good, old friend of mine, and of the rest of the band, inspiration for the character Whatsername, and that she's your daughter, nothing else. They looked with admiration at you when I told them the Whatsername bit."

"Did you have to tell them that I'm the inspiration for the character?"

"I don't think there's anything wrong with it... and I didn't give out much information at all anyways... I just didn't think it could possibly bother you."

"And it doesn't bother me... it's just that... I don't know... it's kind of weird... like to get on a Green Day website and see so many people with 'Whatsername' written on their usernames... it's like that name Jesus gave me it's kind of... personal... it brings back so many memories, so it's weird to see so many people using it and relating to some part of the character, you know?...I know I'm not making any sense."

"No, you're making perfect sense. It's the same with me, and Tré and Billie... specially when it involves our family, like when I see someone who uses my daughter's name as username, even if their name is Mary or something, because I'm already getting used to the "FuckingWithMike" kind of thing," he said placing his carry on luggage in the compartments over the seats. "And of course lots of people relates to the character, or well, to you, actually, or to any part of the story. Your story, as well as Jesus' story, are universal stories... if you know what I mean."

I just nodded my head and looked out the window. Now my mind was getting distracted.

"Do you have panic attacks when you fly?" Mike asked out of the blue when he finally sat down. I just nodded my head as I turned to my left to face Mike. "And you Jenny?"

"Me? Nah... I've just had one panic attack in my entire life and it was because I thought my mom was about to commit suicide," said my blue-eyed daughter who was sitting by the window, so I turned to my right side and gave her a look for the comment she had just made. I was sitting in the middle and Mike was next to the hallway.

"I won't even ask," Mike said, his eyes had grown wide open. Then he turned his head to his left side, to look at the people who were sitting on the island row, right next to ours, they were all whispering and every now and then they'd look at Mike trying to be discreet, however, as soon as they realized Mike was looking at them, they all stopped whispering and tried to act normal.

I laughed at the situation so Mike turned around to look at me.

"Do you get panic attacks when you fly?" Jenny asked then, probably just trying to make conversation.

"No... I really don't have panic attacks so often, just occasionally," he answered with a smile.

"Yes, that's what greendayauthority and geekstinkbreath say."

"You're gonna make me blush, you little stalker," he said blushing slightly.

"You already blushed," I said with a laugh. So he turned totally red, "But don't worry Mike, men blushing are hot," I added jokingly. Mike shook his head. "You know? I'm going to be single, you are single... " I teased, but then I couldn't hold back my laughter anymore.

"Sorry honey, I have a girlfriend ... but Tré is still available... and he says you're hot."

"Shut up, you're gonna make me blush."

"You already did, babe, but don't worry, women blushing are hot," he said sarcastically.

I just shook my head and then we stayed in silence for a few minutes, until the door of the aircraft was closed and we started moving.

"Don't panic," Jenny said slowly, "Not in front of a Green Day member," she whispered without realizing that she had said it loud enough for Mike to hear.

"Don't worry, Jenny... I'll tell you a little secret, Billie cries almost everytime we fly," you taller friend said. Jenny laughed her ass off, I laughed too, but more because of the way that Mike said it than because of what he had told us.

After that Mike started to make jokes about everything, the three of us laughed our asses off during ninety percent of the flight, not giving me any chance to panic.

"Mike must be used to Billie having panic attacks while they flight from one country to the other, and to dealing with it, I guess," I thought.

However, nothing interesting happened. A few people walked up to Mike during the flight, to ask for autographs and stuff, but I'm just guessing you're used to dealing with that kind of happenings all the time, to the point that that must be pretty damn normal for you, so yeah, nothing interesting happened throughout the entire flight.


* * *

"How are you going to survive to Chicago's winter without a proper jacket for the cold outside?"

"I don't know," Mike shrugged his shoulders, "Running from your car to the entrance of the hospital?"

I raised my eyebrows and tilted my head to a side, "Have my jacket, smart ass; you should have bought a jacket in the airport or something. And call me when you want me to pick you up," I said taking the winter jacket I had thoughtfully left inside the car before departing for California and giving it to the bassist.

He looked at it with an eyebrow raised. "This is women clothing."

"I know," I said with a grin covering my face. Jenny laughed from the backseat as well.

"You know, I have a reputation to keep. If I'm seen outside with this jacket people might think I'm gay."

"And since when are you homophobic, Mr. Pritchard?"

"Shut up. Brittney might hear about it and question me."

"She'll feel a lot worst if she finds out that you died frozen at some street in Chicago... I promise I won't write an article about it... even though I'm tempted," I laughed.

"Fine," he rolled his eyes and put on the jacket.

"You look really good on it, Mrs. Pritchard," I teased; he just gave me a look. "Okay, go. And call me when you're ready for me to pick you up, okay?"

"Will do... take care," he finally said as he got out of the car. I turned around and looked at Jenny; she shook her head and laughed.

"See? I made that just for you."

"What?" she asked.

"All that... while we were in the airport I thought Mike would need a jacket for the cold here, because California is a lot more warm, so I guessed he wouldn't be prepared, but I decided not to say a thing, so I could make him wear my jacket." She looked at me and raised an eyebrow. "What? Didn't it occur to you that Brian had left a jacket in the car too for when we came back, just like the rest of us did? But I wanted to make him wear my jacket... a girly jacket... just so you have something embarrassing to say in response when he comments with the rest of the band about how there are millions of Green Day posters in your room."

"You're a genius, you know that?" I smiled. "But there's just one thing: I'm not planning on letting Mike see my room." I rolled my eyes and turned around to look at the road and started my car again. "Besides... Billie and Tré have dressed in drag... I don't think they'd make fun of him for it," my daughter commented when we were already near to our apartment.

"Yeah... but I haven't seen Mike dressed in drag, so they might make fun of him, just for a laugh, you know? You'll see... Tré sings and talks about masturbation openly, Billie masturbates on stage... but when we were in New York and Mike went to the bathroom to masturbate, which we all noticed, they lost no time to start joking about it, you know?"

"Okay... I think there are a few stories from when you all stayed at my dad's apartment in New York that you should definitely tell me about." I just smiled and shook my head at Jenny's comment.

Dropping Mike at the hospital was the first thing we did as soon as we got to Chicago. Now I had to take Jenny to the apartment, and then head to my office. So next I took Jenny home, she decided to stay at Megan's while I was at work, and, after changing into some winter clothing, I led to my office.

It took me just an hour or so to solve the problem that they made me travel for hours from California to solve. Then I made some calls, to lawyers and such, and got some papers ready for the divorce, just as Brian had suggested so insistently for me to do. Later, I met with a lawyer at my office. I explained him what was going on and he corroborated my theory: "The best thing you can do is to accept what your husband is offering you. Considering that fact that you are a self-harmer, a court would probably suggest for you to have supervision during the two weekends per month that you would be having the kids," he said.

Once he left I decided to seat down and write some stuff I needed to write. I didn't think it'd be a letter, at least not in the first place. But not long after I started it I decided I need to share it. I first thought of showing it to Jesus, but I decided not to, he might see it as me begging him to leave his wife and come back with me, but I'd never do that. I thought of giving it to Jenny, but decided not too, it'd be too awkward. I wouldn't give it to Brian, because I think it might hurt him to see how for so many years I slept with him while my mind was always thinking of Jesus, it'd be the most selfish thing to do. Then I thought about giving it to Mike, but no, it'd be too awkward for him to read it around me, maybe he would even ask me about what I wrote here and there since it is hand-written. So that left me with you and Tré as the only persons to send it too; I didn't want to send it to my family for very obvious reasons, I think. And I didn't want to give it to Megan, for the same reasons that I decided to not to give it Jenny or Mike. However, when I thought I'd be describing sex scenes...or at least a lot of kissing and touching, I decided that it was better to write it for you, because if not, I'd imagine the horny Tré masturbating everytime I'd get to a part where I had sex with somebody. Then it seemed really obvious that I shouldn't have even thought about to send the letter to you.

After all, it was you who wrote American Idiot and most of the songs in it, and I thought it was only fair for you to be the first one to hear the story of Whatsername, that mysterious character whose personality you tried to capture in the lines of a few songs, but since there was so much that you didn't know, only traces of the real me, the one I see, showed up in some lines of some of those songs.

This might be disappointing, but I think the reason why I seem to be so mysterious for everyone (the ones who know me from real life, but also the one who have just heard of me on those great songs you wrote) is this: When I ask myself, "Who am I?" nothing comes to mind.

Sad but true.

That's probably why I seem so mysterious, because now that I sat for two days and wrote the story of my life for you, I realized that I don't even know me.

"An American idiot," that's what comes to my mind after doing some hard thinking of who I am. I knew myself better when I lived caught in the routine in the Living Hell City. "That made me the Idiot of America".

However, how come I already talked to you about what I'm thinking right now? First I have to finish the story. See... I ramble so much sometimes.

So yes, I sat and started writing, just a couple of pages after I realized I wanted to send this to someone so I could share it - maybe with the world some day -, and after realizing that it's you who I wanted to read this at first, I started to write it as a letter and got inspired.

Three hours later, when I was already feeling like my hand would fall off if I wrote just one more word, and yet I kept writing because it was getting sort of addictive, Mike called me asking if I could pick him already. I immediately left my office and got in my car. When I was just one block away for the hospital where I had left him almost five hours earlier, I called him, asking him to wait for me outside, so I didn't have to park my car to wait for him or anything.

I saw him there in the moment I got there. Right there, the tall and skinny bassist I had sex with when I was seventeen and the thousands or millions of girls that today would be jealous if they knew I slept with him didn't even know he existed.

But he wasn't alone; a little girl, maybe ten years old, was there with a woman that could have been around our age. His left hand was in the pocket of his jeans as he signed the girl's t-shirt. Then he gave the pen to the woman and placed his right hand in the other pocket of his jeans and looked around, just in that moment he noticed my car was there so he walked in my direction and got in.

"What's up Mike?" I asked once he was inside.

"Nothing much, you?"

"Same... how's your sister?"

"Um... she's doing fine. She woke up saying all her body hurts, but she just broke a leg and a couple of ribs. Other than that she's okay." I nodded my head and smiled. "What about you, did you solve the shit going on at work?"

I nodded my head again, "It was really stupid... idiots," I said rolling my eyes, he just laughed. "Oh and I also worked on the stuff that Brian asked me to have ready for the divorce." The blue eyes of the bassist were wide open and staring at me. "Sorry... but you already knew about the divorce, right?"

"Billie mentioned it, but just barely, in the middle of a conversation we were having last night on the phone, so I thought I had misheard it or something." I nodded my head and started driving again. "So... where are we going now?" he spoke, breaking the silence that had grown between us.

"I don't know, you tell me," I said without thinking much about it. My mind was kind of busy playing around with the idea that had came and gone in just a couples of moments when we were still in Oakland's airport; however, in that moment I noticed Mike was giving me a look, so I slapped the thought out of my head for a moment in order to focus on the conversation. "Well, we are going to my apartment to pick up my daughter and also for you to meet my paradise," I laughed before continuing speaking, "And, then we're going to some restaurant to eat, or to a fast food place, whatever you want, and then we'll stop by a grocery store or something because in my apartment there's absolutely nothing to eat."

"Sounds like a plan."

"It's a plan... so what do you want? Fast food? A decent place? Or a fancy place? Or would you rather me to go to the grocery store first so then we can eat at my place?"

"Whatever is fine with me."

"Mmm... what about Chinese food at some decent place? Or do you like Japanese food better? Or you don't like Asian food? Because if you don't I also know of decent places around where we can get Italian food... or also a place where we can get Mexican food... but if you want to be cheap and you want Mexican food then we can go to Taco Bell, there's one near here... or would yo-"

"Whatsyourname, are you okay?" I nodded. "Sure?" I nodded again as a bit my lips. "Okay... so don't freak out... food... if you take me to a place where there's food, I'll be fine, okay?"

"Okay, I'm sorry; it's just that I'm not used to drive celebrities around."

"I'm a celebrity? Since when?" he asked sounding serious, I just rolled my eyes but without taking them away from the road. "You are the celebrity! We were forgotten after Good Riddance, and we just became famous again thanks to you and Jesus and everything that you lived together, all we did was to take that in a adjust it to the current situation of youth and politics, which wasn't hard... and I'm just an old friend, so whatever you want to eat, and wherever you want to eat it, will be fine for me, okay?"

"Fine... Chinese then," I said with a nod of my head.

"Chinese is perfect."

"Okay... and... that's where I live," I said pointing with my index finger to the building that was located at the corner ahead us.

"Nice building... and nice area too."

"Yeah, but nothing compared to your house and your area," I commented as I drove my car inside the parking lot located in the basement of the building where I had lived for the last almost fifteen years.

"It's just a different style," he replied. Then we stayed in silence for a couple of minutes as I parked my car and got out, leading to the elevator, Mike followed me in silence all the time. "You live in penthouse?" he finally spoke once we were in the elevator.

"No... the penthouse has a private elevator, that's all. But there are just two apartments in the floor I live, because they're pretty damn big. One is mine, obviously, the other is Megan's, I'm not sure if you remember her, however, it's like we own the entire floor anyways." Mike laughed quietly as the elevator's doors opened. "Yep...so here we are... and... this is my paradise!" I announced pointing my arm to the inside of the apartment once I had opened the door. With Mike following me, I walked in and toured Mike around the apartment, until we got the guestroom where I had already put his bag when I had stopped by the apartment earlier that day, and finally, after showing him the entire place, I took him to Jenny's room. He laughed with some kind of embarrassment and blushed slightly. "Don't worry, it'll be far more awkward when Jenny finds you here," I laughed.

"I guess you're right about that...this is a really big apartment, I had something smaller in mind. And it's also really cosy."

"Thank you, but don't act like you're impressed though... at least not at my apartment... if anything, act impressed about Jenny's bedroom. However, I'll go knock on Megan's to tell Jenny to come with us to grab something to eat in the Chinese restaurant... on the meanwhile get comfortable and make yourself feel at home, 'kay?" He nodded his head and smiled before I walked out of the room and then to Megan's apartment.

"Hi again," I said to my friend as soon as she opened the door.

"Hi again... but you didn't tell me you are getting divorced," she said tilting her head to one side signalling for me to come in.

"Jenny told you?"

"She thought you had already told me, so she made a comment about it and that's how I found out. But now I want to hear all the details and reasons."

I sighed, "There's not much to say... shit happens."

"Are you okay though?" I nodded my head simply as I felt tears forming in my eyes which Megan noticed so she gave me a friendly hug. "It'll be fine," she added.

I nodded my head again, "So... where's Jenny?"

"She's inside... she's telling William about how cool it is to see Tré drunk or something like that, they're in William's room, so come in."

I walked inside the apartment and then to William's bedroom. As soon as I opened the door I saw him sitting on a chair and Jenny was sitting on the floor, right next to the door. "Hi again, Will."

"Hi," he said with a simple smile.

"Umm... Jenny, let's go, we're going out to get something to eat."

"Sure," she said getting up from the spot of the floor where she was sitting. We both led to the apartment where Mike should be waiting for us. Once inside I saw Mike's silhouette walking out of Jenny's bedroom at the same time as Jenny suddenly grabbed me with the wrist, I frowned with pain, having to basically bite my lips to not let out a moan, which Mike apparently noticed as he sighed. I took in a deep breath as well and I turned around to look at Jenny.

"Is Mike here?" I just pointed my index finger of my free hand in Mike's direction. She smiled awkwardly.

"Hi, I'm here," he said waving, "I was just taking a look at your room... it is very... interesting." Jenny looked almost as red as a tomato.

"What were you doing in my room?"

"Your mom suggested me to check it out." I laughed.

"Well... I'm a very religious person, so you can't blame me for having posters of my gods all around my room."

"Teenie," Mike said rolling his eyes, "I'm not a god, neither is Billie nor Tré."

"I'm not a teenie!"

"Yeah right," he said while shacking his head. In response, Jenny gave him a look, a bad one, I might add. "Just kidding... I like to be annoying every now and then."

"Well... do you want to give my friend a little surprise?"

"Explain me."

"William, he's Megan's son. If it wasn't because he broke a leg a few days before the concert, I would have been on the seats and we wouldn't have met. And you are William's idol. He has been playing the bass for the last four years or so, he started learning with Green Day songs so you are like... his god. So I didn't comment anything to him about you being here because I was wondering if you could actually surprise him by walking in his room like totally out of the blue or something. Know what I mean? He'll die of a heart attack or something."

"You wanna kill the boy? What kind of friend you are." Mike got another look from Jenny. "Okay... it's fine with me, so let's go there."

"Well, come with me," she said grabbing her "god" by the wrist and leading him to Megan's apartment, once Megan opened the door, Jenny gestured for the woman to be quiet and then pulled Mike to her side, and right in front of Megan's eyes. A smile appeared on my friend's face, after all, she was a fan as well, then she waved at the tall man in front of her and gestured for them to walk in, and so they did. Megan and I followed behind Mike, who was being dragged for my daughter through Megan's apartment, until they finally got to the door of William's room. Jenny knocked the door simply and pulled Mike in front of her so the bassist was facing the door.

"Come in," William said. Mike opened the door slowly so we all saw William sitting on the same chair where he had been sitting when I went there to call Jenny, only this time, he had his bass with him and he was playing it. The song was very familiar for all of us, it was Knowledge. I laughed quietly, but the boy didn't look up, he probably thought it was Jenny. However, at some point he messed up so he let out a moan of frustration and stopped playing. "What do you want?" he said and then started to look up, "You made me oh my god."

"Yes, he's god," Jenny said between laughs as the rest of us couldn't control our own laughing.

"I swear I'll fucking kill you Jenny," William said, his cheeks were so red that I dare to say I had never before seen someone blushing so bad.

"No swearing and no killing," Megan said still laughing.

"Please William, you should thank me for introducing you to Mike," Jenny said, finally being able to hold back her laughter.

"Well, technically, you haven't introduced us yet," the bassist said turning around to face my daughter, just then I noticed he had blushed slightly too. "Hello, nice to meet you, I'm Mike," your taller friend added, this time looking at William and offering the boy his hand, which he took and shook.

"Nice to meet you... I'm... ummm... I'm... William," he said, so we all laughed our asses off, except for Mike, who seemed to be trying hard to control himself, then, an awkward silence followed. I bet you know the kind of awkward it was, probably the same type of awkward silence that there's everytime you meet one of your fans for whatever reason or circumstance.

"Okay, so since there's just an awkward silence, and I'm starving, I think we should go get something to eat and then, when we come back, you can continue with your awkward silence or decide to start a conversation, or whatever... don't you think?" I finally spoke looking from Mike to Jenny and then back to my daughter.

"Sure... ummm... do you wanna come with us?" Mike said to the fan he had just met.

"Oh... ummm... I don't wanna bother," William answered nervously.

"Do you mind if Megan and her son come with us?" Mike asked with his attention momentarily focused on me and my daughter. Both of us shook our heads simultaneously. "You won't be bothering us... so you wanna come with us?"

"Come on Wills, come with us," my daughter insisted.

"You coming too?" the taller man asked who had been my best friend for the last sixteen years or so.

"Sure... just let me wake Claire up," she said walking to the room next to William's.

"Claire?" Mike wondered once the older woman had disappeared into the other room.

"She's my little sister, she's five," William responded.

"I had no idea you have a sister."

"My bad," I said looking at Mike, "I forgot to mention that." He just smiled and nodded. "So... are you going with your mom or with us? Because we can't all go in just one car," I explained to William.

"I'll go with my mom."

"You're so boring," Jenny said with a roll of her eyes. William ignored the comment and headed out of his room, we all followed him and met with Megan in the hallway that led to the living room, standing by her side was a beautiful five years old girl.

A shocked expression suddenly covered Mike's face as soon as he saw William's sister, but he didn't say a word.

It was when we were outside the elevator when he finally spoke, "Umm... sorry if I'm being disrespectful... or if it sounds kind of racist, but I'm just too curious so I'm gonna ask anyway... umm... I mean, William looks a lot like Leonard DiCaprio, tall, blonde and blue-eyed; Claire is black, and none of the two of them looks at all like you."

Megan laughed a little before answering, "It's okay... I can't have kids of my own, so they're both adopted. I also have another boy, but he's with his father right now, adoptive father that is, my ex-husband, and he's ten years old, he must have had Asian parents, because he's Asian looking."

"Oh that's so sweet... and variety rocks... that's really nice," he finally added after an almost long silence.

"That's one of the multiple reasons why William admires you so much, because you're adopted too," Jenny explained.

"Hello, I'm here," William said with a roll of his eyes. Just then the elevator opened.

It must have been around 7:30pm, and it was a bloody freezing night in Chicago.

But I certainly had no idea of how long the night was going to be.