Amy's Adventure With Green Day, chapter 6
The guard glared at us with dark, unfriendly eyes. "What do you think you are doing down here?" he asked Steve, Mason and I.
I'd say he didnt see Billie Joe, otherwise he wouldn't have talked so rudely. I was only a few centimetres shorter than Billie so his black hair sticking out above the top of my head would have seemed like part of my hair. I heard Billie clear his throat behind me, then lean out to the side so that Big Jonno could see him.
The guard's expression suddenly softened.
"We are bringing these hoodlems to the security office," Billie said. I could imagine the look on his face, eyes sparkling with inheld laughter, mouth slightly askew, one dark eyebrow raised in an authoritive fashion.
"Those are the kids that broke in aren't they?" Big Jonno asked, a quick glare of dislike flashed across his eye. "Would you like any help sir?"
"Yes, it is them" Billie Joe said, a touch of dislike in his voice. "And, no thank you, we do not need any help."
The guard turned on one heel and stiffly walked down the corridor and around the corner. As soon as he was out of earshot Billie Joe started laughing.
"That guy needs therapy," he said. "Or at least to chill out a bit, he hates everyone." Steve, Mason and I started laughing too. Billie Joe let go of my wrists and walked to the door. He tried to open it but it wouldn't budge.
"I left my card behind," he said, his eyes clouded over with dissapointment.
What happened, I thought to myself, Billie Joe Armstrong never gives up, especially not on something as big as this, this criminal activity. It seemed so unlike him. Maybe he was having second thoughts.
"I have a card," Steve said. Holding up the white card with black writing on it. It was like a credit card, but it had V.I.P security written on it.
Billie's face radiated as another burst of energy came forward. I could tell the singer was tired. Not tired physically but mentally, I knew it wouldn't affect their performance but I could tell he was wishing he was at home with Adrienne and the kids. But at the same time I could tell he was thoroughly enjoying himself. What do you expect, after a year of touring you are bound to be tired, so if a chance for excitement comes, you have to take it. After all, what is better than being arrested.. with your favourite band of all time.
Steve walked to the door and slipped the card through the machine attached to the door. There was no security code for this one so if we hadn't been with Steve all would have been lost. The door beeped, clicked and opened automatically. Billie Joe walked into the room behind the door, Steve following behind him. I looked at Mason and he looked back, he nodded his head towards the door, I went through the door with Mason following closely behind. The room was quite large and filled with clothing racks, all filled with security and personnel uniforms. The racks were labelled so it was easy for us to find the right one. It would have been easy for us to have gotten lost in all the clothing racks, it was like a maze.
"Over here!" we heard Billie call.
We walked over and saw him looking through a rack of clothes labelled, concert guards.
"This should fit you," he said and tossed Mason a security uniform roughly his size. "Now, to find your size," he said while looking at me. "That will be a little harder." He turned back to the clothing rack and flipped through all the uniforms. After roughly 3 minutes he pulled something out. "This should fit," he said and threw me a small uniform. It was one size bigger then my normal size. "It might be one or two sizes too big but you are going to have to put it on over your normal clothes to make you look more sturdy."
"How did you know?" I asked, wondering how he knew my clothing size. He smiled at me, mischieviously, raised one eyebrow and then turned away. I knew that question was never going to be answered. We heard a loud, echoing click and then deep voices filled the room, bouncing off the bare concrete walls.
"How does that man get such an idea, to go outside, into the open, where thousands of his fans were just walking around?" a voice said from behind a clothing rack behind us, the one closest to the door.
I looked at Mason, he had a worried look on his face. Then I looked at Steve who was anxiously looking at Billie Joe, who was looking at me with a face full of excitement. He indicated for us to follow him and then he dived into the clothes rack. I went in after him, it was one of those racks that they have in the clothing stores, but larger. It had an empty space in the centre and clothes all around it. That's where we sat, quietly, waiting to see if the gards would come closer. They did.
"I need a medium," a voice different from the one we heard before said.
Oh no, I thought, just as the clothes got pulled aside and light flooded the space in which we were sitting. I was faced with the view of two, very large men.
"Hey!" the fattest one yelled "Those are the kids from the camera, and they've kidnapped Mr. Armstrong!" He angrily stepped towards us and reached his hand inside, I staggered back and just escaped from the grasp of his fat sausage fingers.
I'd say he didnt see Billie Joe, otherwise he wouldn't have talked so rudely. I was only a few centimetres shorter than Billie so his black hair sticking out above the top of my head would have seemed like part of my hair. I heard Billie clear his throat behind me, then lean out to the side so that Big Jonno could see him.
The guard's expression suddenly softened.
"We are bringing these hoodlems to the security office," Billie said. I could imagine the look on his face, eyes sparkling with inheld laughter, mouth slightly askew, one dark eyebrow raised in an authoritive fashion.
"Those are the kids that broke in aren't they?" Big Jonno asked, a quick glare of dislike flashed across his eye. "Would you like any help sir?"
"Yes, it is them" Billie Joe said, a touch of dislike in his voice. "And, no thank you, we do not need any help."
The guard turned on one heel and stiffly walked down the corridor and around the corner. As soon as he was out of earshot Billie Joe started laughing.
"That guy needs therapy," he said. "Or at least to chill out a bit, he hates everyone." Steve, Mason and I started laughing too. Billie Joe let go of my wrists and walked to the door. He tried to open it but it wouldn't budge.
"I left my card behind," he said, his eyes clouded over with dissapointment.
What happened, I thought to myself, Billie Joe Armstrong never gives up, especially not on something as big as this, this criminal activity. It seemed so unlike him. Maybe he was having second thoughts.
"I have a card," Steve said. Holding up the white card with black writing on it. It was like a credit card, but it had V.I.P security written on it.
Billie's face radiated as another burst of energy came forward. I could tell the singer was tired. Not tired physically but mentally, I knew it wouldn't affect their performance but I could tell he was wishing he was at home with Adrienne and the kids. But at the same time I could tell he was thoroughly enjoying himself. What do you expect, after a year of touring you are bound to be tired, so if a chance for excitement comes, you have to take it. After all, what is better than being arrested.. with your favourite band of all time.
Steve walked to the door and slipped the card through the machine attached to the door. There was no security code for this one so if we hadn't been with Steve all would have been lost. The door beeped, clicked and opened automatically. Billie Joe walked into the room behind the door, Steve following behind him. I looked at Mason and he looked back, he nodded his head towards the door, I went through the door with Mason following closely behind. The room was quite large and filled with clothing racks, all filled with security and personnel uniforms. The racks were labelled so it was easy for us to find the right one. It would have been easy for us to have gotten lost in all the clothing racks, it was like a maze.
"Over here!" we heard Billie call.
We walked over and saw him looking through a rack of clothes labelled, concert guards.
"This should fit you," he said and tossed Mason a security uniform roughly his size. "Now, to find your size," he said while looking at me. "That will be a little harder." He turned back to the clothing rack and flipped through all the uniforms. After roughly 3 minutes he pulled something out. "This should fit," he said and threw me a small uniform. It was one size bigger then my normal size. "It might be one or two sizes too big but you are going to have to put it on over your normal clothes to make you look more sturdy."
"How did you know?" I asked, wondering how he knew my clothing size. He smiled at me, mischieviously, raised one eyebrow and then turned away. I knew that question was never going to be answered. We heard a loud, echoing click and then deep voices filled the room, bouncing off the bare concrete walls.
"How does that man get such an idea, to go outside, into the open, where thousands of his fans were just walking around?" a voice said from behind a clothing rack behind us, the one closest to the door.
I looked at Mason, he had a worried look on his face. Then I looked at Steve who was anxiously looking at Billie Joe, who was looking at me with a face full of excitement. He indicated for us to follow him and then he dived into the clothes rack. I went in after him, it was one of those racks that they have in the clothing stores, but larger. It had an empty space in the centre and clothes all around it. That's where we sat, quietly, waiting to see if the gards would come closer. They did.
"I need a medium," a voice different from the one we heard before said.
Oh no, I thought, just as the clothes got pulled aside and light flooded the space in which we were sitting. I was faced with the view of two, very large men.
"Hey!" the fattest one yelled "Those are the kids from the camera, and they've kidnapped Mr. Armstrong!" He angrily stepped towards us and reached his hand inside, I staggered back and just escaped from the grasp of his fat sausage fingers.
