I Was Meant To Be With You Three..., chapter 1
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This is in 2006, but Green Day are all 21 years old, except for Tre who is still 20. The album American Idiot has not been released yet.
Pop sensation Sam Scott finished her newest hit single and walked off the stage, switching off the mic. The crowd went wild, wanting her to keep going, but the show was over. For tonight anyway.
"Great Sam!" Sam's manager, Tracey Kent, walked up to her and gave her a pat on the back. "Everyone loves Perfect Girl! Well done!" She took the mic from her and walked off. Sam entered her dressing room and stared at herself in the mirror that ran from the ceiling to the floor. A girl with pale skin, blue-green eyes, straight, layered, thin, auburn hair that ended about an inch above the end of her ribs, the almost perfect features on her face and the almost perfect figure stared back at her. She was a beautiful 20 nearly 21 year old, and she knew it. But she wasn't quite as perfect as everyone thought she was.
She shut the door and started to change from her denim mini-skirt and tight red top into comfortable baggy pants and long-sleeved sweater. She sighed and grabbed her dark blue cap and put it on backwards. Then she got her water bottle and took at big drink out of it, nearly emptying it. Most stars wore make-up, but she didn't, so she didn't have to take it off after her performances. She didn't need it. She walked outside and her two bodyguards were waiting for her. One was a man with brown hair, very tall and well built, and the other was his son, 19 years old with exactly the same colored hair and a getting there body. They led her out the back into the slightly tinted-window, dark blue truck. Everyone would be looking for a limo, but she just had a truck for under cover purposes. Sam got in the back, in between her two bodyguards and they drove right past the screaming fans, looking for a limo in the heavy traffic.
"Once again, they don't realize," the man said and they drove straight to the airport for a late flight to New York. Her next concert was in a few days, but she wanted to be there early.
"Typical," Sam said and then cleared her voice. She always put so much into her songs and concerts; she sometimes barely had a voice after it. Luckily tonight, there was barely any difference. They soon arrived at the airport and boarded the plane. They were running a bit late. Her bodyguards took their place a few seats behind her and she sat down in her own seat. No one had sat next to her yet. Maybe she wouldn't have to put up with anyone falling asleep and snoring this time, or any wanna-be singers trying to be her. Three men suddenly rushed in the plane, obviously late as well. Four other men followed and sat in the row across from her, taking up the whole row on that side. The three men sat next to her, the one with black hair right next to her on her right, then the blonde one and then the red-brown haired one. The captain started speaking.
"Flight 472 taking off now to New York. Please switch off any cell phones, CD players or other devices. Remain seated at all times if possible. Have a good flight." The plane started moving and Sam put her backpack on the ground. Then she leaned back in her seat and only then did she take a good look at the man sitting next to her. His black hair was wild and he had heavy eyeliner on. He wore a t-shirt with PuNk written on it and dark jeans. Sam could see a bit of leather sticking out of his backpack, probably a leather jacket. He was actually quite cute.
No way, she thought. It couldn't be. Green Day? Billie Joe sitting next to me? Then Mike Dirnt and Tre Cool? Oh my God. She took in a deep breath as the plane started to take off.
"Billie Joe?" she asked cautiously. The man looked down a bit at her.
"Sam Scott?" he asked.
"Oh boy," they both said at the same time, hoping no one had heard or seen them, but everyone else just kept on talking quite loud.
Pop sensation Sam Scott finished her newest hit single and walked off the stage, switching off the mic. The crowd went wild, wanting her to keep going, but the show was over. For tonight anyway.
"Great Sam!" Sam's manager, Tracey Kent, walked up to her and gave her a pat on the back. "Everyone loves Perfect Girl! Well done!" She took the mic from her and walked off. Sam entered her dressing room and stared at herself in the mirror that ran from the ceiling to the floor. A girl with pale skin, blue-green eyes, straight, layered, thin, auburn hair that ended about an inch above the end of her ribs, the almost perfect features on her face and the almost perfect figure stared back at her. She was a beautiful 20 nearly 21 year old, and she knew it. But she wasn't quite as perfect as everyone thought she was.
She shut the door and started to change from her denim mini-skirt and tight red top into comfortable baggy pants and long-sleeved sweater. She sighed and grabbed her dark blue cap and put it on backwards. Then she got her water bottle and took at big drink out of it, nearly emptying it. Most stars wore make-up, but she didn't, so she didn't have to take it off after her performances. She didn't need it. She walked outside and her two bodyguards were waiting for her. One was a man with brown hair, very tall and well built, and the other was his son, 19 years old with exactly the same colored hair and a getting there body. They led her out the back into the slightly tinted-window, dark blue truck. Everyone would be looking for a limo, but she just had a truck for under cover purposes. Sam got in the back, in between her two bodyguards and they drove right past the screaming fans, looking for a limo in the heavy traffic.
"Once again, they don't realize," the man said and they drove straight to the airport for a late flight to New York. Her next concert was in a few days, but she wanted to be there early.
"Typical," Sam said and then cleared her voice. She always put so much into her songs and concerts; she sometimes barely had a voice after it. Luckily tonight, there was barely any difference. They soon arrived at the airport and boarded the plane. They were running a bit late. Her bodyguards took their place a few seats behind her and she sat down in her own seat. No one had sat next to her yet. Maybe she wouldn't have to put up with anyone falling asleep and snoring this time, or any wanna-be singers trying to be her. Three men suddenly rushed in the plane, obviously late as well. Four other men followed and sat in the row across from her, taking up the whole row on that side. The three men sat next to her, the one with black hair right next to her on her right, then the blonde one and then the red-brown haired one. The captain started speaking.
"Flight 472 taking off now to New York. Please switch off any cell phones, CD players or other devices. Remain seated at all times if possible. Have a good flight." The plane started moving and Sam put her backpack on the ground. Then she leaned back in her seat and only then did she take a good look at the man sitting next to her. His black hair was wild and he had heavy eyeliner on. He wore a t-shirt with PuNk written on it and dark jeans. Sam could see a bit of leather sticking out of his backpack, probably a leather jacket. He was actually quite cute.
No way, she thought. It couldn't be. Green Day? Billie Joe sitting next to me? Then Mike Dirnt and Tre Cool? Oh my God. She took in a deep breath as the plane started to take off.
"Billie Joe?" she asked cautiously. The man looked down a bit at her.
"Sam Scott?" he asked.
"Oh boy," they both said at the same time, hoping no one had heard or seen them, but everyone else just kept on talking quite loud.
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