Life Changes, chapter 4

After the fantastic performance at Rod's, Sweet Children began to get gig requests everywhere. They even got them in Gilman street. I can't begin to tell you how excited Billie was about that!

One day at practice, when we were seventeen, it was St. Patrick's Day and Billie was tuning his brand-new guitar and said, "I think we need to change the band's name."
Mike looked up. "Why?," he asked.
"I don't know. I just think that it's time."
"I guess."

I looked up from my sketches, intrigued.
"Well," I said,"What are you thinking of changing it to?"
"I'm not sure," Billie answered, "But, it needs to be something that reflects us." Mike went up and pinched Billie on the arm.
"Hey! What was that for?!" Billie yelled giving Mike an angry look and rubbing his arm.
"It's St. Patrick's day," he smirked, "And you're not wearing any green."
"That's it!" Billie said, grinning from ear to ear, "Green Day!"
Al, Mike, and I nodded.
"Awesome!" Mike yelled.
"A little ironic, though," Al said.
"Who cares?" I said, "It sounds cool."

They recorded their first EP as Green Day. It was called 1,000 hours. They recorded it in only two days! I couldn't even believe it was that fast!

About a month after that, they had practice again. Al wasn't doing his best. He looked a little distracted. Billie began singing and I guess he was a little irritated with Al because in the middle of the song, he stopped and yelled, "Stop, stop, stop!"
"What is your fucking problem today, Al?" Mike asked.
"Well," Al began, "I need to tell you guys something."
They all put everything down and sat by me. Al remained standing. He looked like he was going to run after he finished speaking. I think he should have. Because what he said would be enough to kill himself.
"Well," he said, "I'm not sure how to say this but..."
"Say it already!" Mike said.
"I'm quitting the band," he said.
He should have run. Fast. To another country, even.
Billie was mad.

"FUCK WHY?!" he yelled.
He immediately got up, fists balled.
"I want to go to college, and, I think that this whole band thing will get in the way of that," Al said, voice quaky.
"Yeah, whatever," Billie said turning away with his arms crossed.
I just sat there and watched. I was speechless. I never liked Al. Even when he was plain old John Kriftmeyer.

I didn't know what had come over me. I didn't remember anything. All I can remember was looking down and seeing Al on the floor, his nose bleeding. I was filled with rage.
"Now get out," Billie said, "Get the fuck out of my house now, Al!"
"The name's John," Al said, getting up, "And fuck you."
He pointed at me. He began walking away.
"Oh, yeah?" I screamed after him, "Well, maybe if you did that more, I wouldn't have dumped you!"
"Nice one," I heard Mike say from behind me.
"Thanks," I said, looking back at him and smiling.

I stared right into his eyes. I couldn't stop. They pulled me in.
"Chassy? Chassy?" he was saying.
I broke free. Billie came over and put his arm around my shoulder.
"Thanks for that," he said.
"You're welcome," I said.

Mike sat down behind the drums.
"Now what are we going to do about a new drummer?" he asked, picking up the sticks and tapping on the symbols.
"Fuck if I know," Billie said.
"Well, we have to do something," I said, "You can't give up now."