One Girl's Fantasy...And Many Other's Dream, chapter 1
"What!?!" I screamed.
"Sometimes I never understand you." I had been in an argument for like, half an hour about why she wouldn't let me on MY computer that I was sent for my dad for my birthday, and the argument made no sense at all, and I was sick of it. I grabbed my jacket off of the computer chair and ran out the door, slamming it behind me. As I put my jacket on, I stuck my hand in my left pocket, and I pulled out my mp3 player. I skipped around the songs before deciding on Thank You For The Venom, My Chemical Romance, and started down the sidewalk, towards the back alley behind a recording studio,where me and my friends always hang out.
You see, I live in Berkeley with my mom in a two story house. My dad walked out on me when I was just like, one, and I dont have any siblings. I'm 15, I have dark brown hair, 5'4 1/2", 102 lbs, hazel eyes, and my favorite bands are My Chemical Romance, Panic!At The Disco, and Green Day. I'm obsessed. I'm obsessed with Green Day. We actually started hanging out in the alley behind the recording studio because its the studio where Green Day does their stuff, and I wanted to catch a glimpse of them, and we won't stop hanging out there untill we all meet them there. I don't think I have anything else to tell you, Sooo... back to the story.
It was only like, one, so I had a good 5 hours untill sundown, and I was only like, 3 blocks away from the alley.
*4 minutes later*
I turned the corner into the alley, and nobody was there. I turned around to go back to my house, cause the music had already calmed me down quite a bit, when I heard a door open behind me, and a couple girls screaming. The Door was right behind me, so I turned to see who it was, in case it was Green Day, but I instantly blacked out. The last thing I remembered seeing was a bunch of pink...
I woke up in a strange room.
"Where am I?" I said, sitting up. really fast. In fact, I sat up too fast. I laid back down, clutching my forehead, just as I heard some one say
"Aww! Shitty Fuck!"
I opened my eyes to see a person who kinda looked like Tré clutching his forehead,
"What in the hell!?!" I said, looking at the three men that stood at the foot of the bed.
"This has to be a dream." I said, sitting up, and scooting over to the wall.
Starting to hit my head agianst the wall really hard, saying,
"This has to be a dream,this has to be a dream!"
"Woah!" Said Billie Joe, apparently. "We don't want you to black out again!"
"W-where am I?" I managed to studder.
"Uuum... your in our hotel room." He said.
"Since you guys can't be who I think you are, who are you?"
"Well, who do you think we are?" Said the guy that looked alot like Tré Cool.
"Well, you guys look alot like Green Day, but I'm not that lucky,..."
"We don't know what to tell you then..." Said Who I guess was Mike, no, was Mike.
"Oh my fuckin god. How did I get in Green Day's hotel room?"
"Oh! Oh!" Said Tré, waving his hand in the hair like a school kid.
"Tré... would you like to say something?" said Billie.
"Yes I would, Mr.Armstrong!"
Mike let out a little chuckle.
"Go ahead, Mr. Wright." Billie said, smiling. By now, I'm guessing that my eyes were as big as hell.
"Well, we were running from a big group of fuckin teenies, and we opened the back door to our studio, and we went to run, and we ran into you, so we brought you back here." Tré said. Then a phone rang in the other room, and Tré ran to go get it. Billie was looking at me funny, and I looked at him, then he looked away. I seemed to personally know him, but I knew that it was just from seeing him plastered all over my room, and in my locker, and on the fronts of my binders, and everywhwere else.
"Mikey boy! It's for you!" I heard Tré say, and Mike ran to go get the phone.
He closed the door behind him, and 'THWACK!'
"Tré! you're dead!"
"You're the one that fell for it!" then there was a bunch of banging and thudding coming from the room, so I figured that they were fighting. I looked over and saw Billie sitting at the table by the window, and he gestured for me to sit down in the chair in front of him.
"Sometimes I never understand you." I had been in an argument for like, half an hour about why she wouldn't let me on MY computer that I was sent for my dad for my birthday, and the argument made no sense at all, and I was sick of it. I grabbed my jacket off of the computer chair and ran out the door, slamming it behind me. As I put my jacket on, I stuck my hand in my left pocket, and I pulled out my mp3 player. I skipped around the songs before deciding on Thank You For The Venom, My Chemical Romance, and started down the sidewalk, towards the back alley behind a recording studio,where me and my friends always hang out.
You see, I live in Berkeley with my mom in a two story house. My dad walked out on me when I was just like, one, and I dont have any siblings. I'm 15, I have dark brown hair, 5'4 1/2", 102 lbs, hazel eyes, and my favorite bands are My Chemical Romance, Panic!At The Disco, and Green Day. I'm obsessed. I'm obsessed with Green Day. We actually started hanging out in the alley behind the recording studio because its the studio where Green Day does their stuff, and I wanted to catch a glimpse of them, and we won't stop hanging out there untill we all meet them there. I don't think I have anything else to tell you, Sooo... back to the story.
It was only like, one, so I had a good 5 hours untill sundown, and I was only like, 3 blocks away from the alley.
*4 minutes later*
I turned the corner into the alley, and nobody was there. I turned around to go back to my house, cause the music had already calmed me down quite a bit, when I heard a door open behind me, and a couple girls screaming. The Door was right behind me, so I turned to see who it was, in case it was Green Day, but I instantly blacked out. The last thing I remembered seeing was a bunch of pink...
I woke up in a strange room.
"Where am I?" I said, sitting up. really fast. In fact, I sat up too fast. I laid back down, clutching my forehead, just as I heard some one say
"Aww! Shitty Fuck!"
I opened my eyes to see a person who kinda looked like Tré clutching his forehead,
"What in the hell!?!" I said, looking at the three men that stood at the foot of the bed.
"This has to be a dream." I said, sitting up, and scooting over to the wall.
Starting to hit my head agianst the wall really hard, saying,
"This has to be a dream,this has to be a dream!"
"Woah!" Said Billie Joe, apparently. "We don't want you to black out again!"
"W-where am I?" I managed to studder.
"Uuum... your in our hotel room." He said.
"Since you guys can't be who I think you are, who are you?"
"Well, who do you think we are?" Said the guy that looked alot like Tré Cool.
"Well, you guys look alot like Green Day, but I'm not that lucky,..."
"We don't know what to tell you then..." Said Who I guess was Mike, no, was Mike.
"Oh my fuckin god. How did I get in Green Day's hotel room?"
"Oh! Oh!" Said Tré, waving his hand in the hair like a school kid.
"Tré... would you like to say something?" said Billie.
"Yes I would, Mr.Armstrong!"
Mike let out a little chuckle.
"Go ahead, Mr. Wright." Billie said, smiling. By now, I'm guessing that my eyes were as big as hell.
"Well, we were running from a big group of fuckin teenies, and we opened the back door to our studio, and we went to run, and we ran into you, so we brought you back here." Tré said. Then a phone rang in the other room, and Tré ran to go get it. Billie was looking at me funny, and I looked at him, then he looked away. I seemed to personally know him, but I knew that it was just from seeing him plastered all over my room, and in my locker, and on the fronts of my binders, and everywhwere else.
"Mikey boy! It's for you!" I heard Tré say, and Mike ran to go get the phone.
He closed the door behind him, and 'THWACK!'
"Tré! you're dead!"
"You're the one that fell for it!" then there was a bunch of banging and thudding coming from the room, so I figured that they were fighting. I looked over and saw Billie sitting at the table by the window, and he gestured for me to sit down in the chair in front of him.
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