John's Revenge, chapter 1

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**August, 1991**
**Billie Joe's POV**
"Thank you Gilman! You've been a fucking fantastic audience!" I held out my arms to the cheers coming in from the crowd. I saw Mike grinning beside me. John, or Al, was sitting behind us, keeping a steady drumbeat.

"Good bye! We'll be back soon!" Mike yelled. We ran off stage. Mike gave me a high five. Al followed us out and sat down on a chair.

"We are the BEST!" Mike grinned. "They loved us!" I smiled. I had to agree, we were pretty good for a rag-tag bunch of snot nosed punks from Oakland.

I glanced at Al, who looked really uptight.

"Hey, Sobrante, what's up?" I asked.

"Nothing, nothing," he muttered. "I've got to go."

He got up and walked out the back. A woman walked back stage.

"Hey, Olivia, what's up?" Mike asked.

"Where's Al?" Olivia asked, looking worried. "I need to talk to him, urgently."

"He just left, he looked pretty uptight."

Olivia sighed and sat down. "He's going to do something really stupid and hurtful."

I sat down beside her, worried. "He's not going to kill himself, is he, Liv?"

"No, no, nothing like that, it's just... " Olivia was interrupted as our friend, Bobby, ran in.

"Dudes, Al's just got a letter." He gasped.

"Oh my God! He got a letter! What a SIN!" Mike gasped sarcastically.

"Yeah, whatever Pritchard. He got a college acceptance letter and he's going to quit the band."

I felt as if a bucket of ice had been poured into my stomach. I couldn't believe that bastard would do this to us, just as we were getting big. I had never been this angry.

Mike was the first to speak. "What the fuck is that bastard thinking? How the fuck could he do this to us?"

"I don't know," Bobby replied. "I've got to go, see ya Pritchard, 2 dollar, Liv."

He walked out, leaving a horrible silence behind. Olivia was the first to speak.

"I'm so sorry you guys, I wanted to find him to talk him out of it." Tears were in her eyes. What the hell did SHE have to cry about?

The doors opened and the Lookouts came backstage.

"That's it," said Laurence. "We're done. The Lookouts are gone. That was our last show and it went like fucking clockwork." He smiled and high-fived Tre, their constantly hyper-active drummer.

Tre cartwheeled over to the table. "Hey 2 dollar, any chance of a fix?" He grinned at me.

"Yeah sure," I handed Tre the goods and he gave me two dollar bills. "Anyone want to join me?" He looked around the room.

Lawrence smiled. "No thanks kiddo." Kain shook his head, as did Liv.

"Mikey boy, 2 dollar, what d'you say?" He grinned impishly. "After all, you are called Green Day, it makes sense."

"No thanks dude, we're not in the mood. We may not even BE Green Day any more."

Tre dropped the joint he was holding and Lawrence spit out his beer.

"What?! No offence or anything, but you guys have just released your first album, we're waiting for a follow up, you can't quit." Lawrence glared at us.

"Hey, hey, hey! It's not our fault that fucktard Al decided to quit to go to college!" I spat.

Tre sat down, his joint lying on the floor, forgotten. "Hey, you guys can't quit! You're great! Even with Al," he turned to Liv, Kain and Laurence. "What is with Al? He drums all wonkily, he puts his cymbals on the wrong side and everything... " he saw the look on Mike and my faces. "But now's not the time."

We sat in silence. Suddenly Tre's eyes lit up.

"I could drum for you! The Lookouts have finished, they don't need me, I'll be your drummer, please, please, please! It'll be so much fun, it'll be so cool!"

Mike and I looked at each other. We grinned.

"Yeah, that would fucking rule!" Tre got up and high-fived us. The door opened and Al walked in.

"Liv, we've got to go." Olivia got up and followed him back out.

"Dickhead," muttered Tre.

"Fuckface," muttered Kain. Ooh, fun.

"Cock-smoking, mother-fucking asshole," murmured Mike.

"Dirty twat," muttered Lawrence.

"Waste of semen," I responded.

"Well, then, we all agree that that dickhead, fuckface, cock-smoking, mother-fucking asshole, dirt twat, waste of semen can fuck off and die for all we care," sang Tre.

I grinned. I agreed completely.

**John's POV**
"Did you tell them, Liv?" I asked.


"What? I asked you to tell them! Why didn't you?" I was furious. I told her to tell them.

"I couldn't. Bobby ran in and told them. They were angrier than I've ever seen them before. They've found another drummer." She added matter of factly.

Any feelings of guilt I had were gone.

"What? How dare they replace me?" I yelled.

"Just because you left the band doesn't mean they have to give up on it." Olivia spoke to me coldly.

"Now you're on their side?"

"Yes. You shouldn't have quit."

I grabbed her hand and pulled her along with me. How DARE they?

**Billie Joe's POV**
"To Green Day! The best band in the fucking world!" declared Tre. We had beer and pot. We were good to go.

"Yeah!" Mike agreed.

We were all stoned and drunk. These were good times, very good times.

* * *

**1994, Billie's POV**
I was standing on stage at Woodstock II. It was a far cry from Gilman, but it was still great. A mud-drenched crowd stretched before me as far as the eye could see. We were about to play three songs from our new album, Dookie. The crowd were already going crazy, as if we were big celebrities. It was scary.

I began to play Basket Case on Blue, my very first guitar. The crowd started screaming and singing along. It brought a smile to my face.

**John's POV**
I sat in my living room with my wife, Olivia. We had been married for two months. We were watching Woodstock II.

I nearly had a heart attack when three familiar faces came on.

"Oh my God!" shrieked Olivia.

They began to play. The crowd loved them. Their new album, Dookie, was a hit. They were rich, famous and happy. I was broke, married and with a kid on the way. I had no qualifications, college had sucked so I dropped out. I had no job and the only joy I got was from listening to our album and looking back on the days we spent at Gilman.

The camera zoomed in on the drummer, Tre. I remembered him from Gilman. He was in The Lookouts! With Kain and Lawrence. He had seemed alright. Who would have known he'd stab me in the back?

I glared at his stupid, goofy-looking face. I should be the one on stage. I should be in Green Day. I should be rich, famous and happy. He should be stuck in this shit hole, alone and broke.

**Olivia's POV**
I gazed at Tre. I looked at him smile. I wondered if he remembered me. We had gone out for six months. John had made me break up with him. I still regret being so weak and giving in. I still regret breaking up with Tre every minute of every day. Especially when punches rained down on my body, hard and fast.

I glanced nervously at my husband. He was glaring at the television set, at Tre.

**John's POV**
I'd made up my mind. I was going to assume my rightful place as drummer of Green Day, even if it killed me. Oops, slip of the tongue.

I was going to assume my rightful place as drummer of Green Day, even if it killed Tre....

I turned my attention back to the television set. Green Day had finished playing and were being interviewed.

"So, Tre, a little birdie tells me that you were not Green Day's original drummer?" the interviewer gushed.

"Yeah, the original drummer was our friend John Kiffmeyer, we called him Al Sobrante. It's a long story."

"Do you think that you would be as successful if Kiffmeyer was still a member of the band?"

"No. I think Tre being in the band has enhanced our playing and made us recognize our full talent. There is no one I, at least, could play with to this caliber." Mike smiled.

I noticed Mike's front teeth were missing. Served him right, turn-coat bastard.

Tre grinned. "Also, Al drummed weirdly. His cymbals were all fucked up. They were on the wrong side and everything. He's an OK guy, just not a very good drummer. Well, not compared to moi !"

Billie and Mike laughed along with Tre.

That was it. Tre Cool was as good as dead.
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