Inked Memories (Dedicated to Ri), chapter 4
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"Good morning, sunny California! It's eight o'clock, and the sun is shining! Today, we have our special guest, Thursday! So please, give a warm hand to...GREEN DAY!" I picked up my wretched alarm clock and was prepared to throw it at my wall when I realized that Green Day were being interviewed live in the radio station.
I gently placed the clock back and sat up on my bed, never taking my eyes off the black electronic.
"Thank you very much, Brad," I heard Billie's sweet voice fill my ears.
Then the moment was gone and Brad McRally's cheesy voice began again.
"Wow, we really can't believe we have you guys here today, it's just amazing. You've just finished your tour, haven't you? What was it like?"
"It was awesome; we couldn't believe how many people were there, could we?"
"Nope," Mike, the talented bassist added. "It was jaw dropping. Wasn't it like 7,500 people?"
"Oh, I only managed to count 7,498." Tré, and one of his random jokes.
"But you're a drummer, you should be able have counted how many were actually there," Brad joked.
"Yeah, I know. But it's great isn't it; my work consists of me counting up to four repeatedly, and I can still say I'm a drummer."
They all laughed. But Billie's laugh was the nicest...
"So anyway, we have a ton of questions to ask you guys. But what we'd like to know is, what do you do with your spare time?"
"Well..." Mike began, just before Tré butted in.
"Fiddle about...fiddle about..."
"Wow! Well, I don't know about us guys over here, but I think the ladies might like to know Tré has just stuck his hands down his pants!" A synthesised wolf-whistle was played in the background.
"We all know Tré, so don't worry, he is the dirty bastard of the group after all. Our advice is, fathers, lock up your alcohol cupboards and hide your daughters!"
I laughed aloud; Billie was always a very quick one for funny comments.
"Next questions then, what are you guys going to be doing today? Anything exciting, anything special perhaps? Hmmm?"
"Nothing really..." Billie began. My heart sunk.
Mike gasped.
"Billie!" he exclaimed, "You little liar!" Mike then turned to Brad. "Well, Billie's gonna get a new tattoo today!"
My eyes widened; my heart fluttered. There was no doubt about it, Billie was really going to come!
"Oh yeah, I nearly forgot! He he." Somehow he sounded a bit, well, sad.
"Ah! A new tattoo! What are you going to get? Where are you going to get it?"
"That, Brad, I can't tell you, it's too personal for now. But, I'm sure one of the fans will find out soon enough."
Could Billie be talking about me? Has Tim told Billie about me? I started to shake all over, I just couldn't help it. I was too excited. The host carried on...
"So anyway, Billie, speaking of fans, you have a great deal of them that would really love to date you. So what would you look for in a girl, huh?"
"Who said I liked girls? Ha ha ha, nah, I'm just messing. Well, I'd say, my ideal girl would have, blonde long hair, beautiful blue eyes, averagely built, and is very creative."
"Well, I gotta stop you there, Billie," that cheesy voice was back again. "Time flies when you're having fun."
"It sure does," added Tré, sounding a lot more relaxed than what he was before...
"Thanks anyway for dropping by, guys, and hope all goes well for the future! This is Brad McRally saying, Ciao for now California!"
Silence.
That matched me. That, that description matched me perfectly! I couldn't contain myself; I grabbed the clock and screamed,
"I LOVE YOU BILLIE!"
Just then my grouchy next door neighbour, Mrs. Litch (aka, Mrs. Bitch) screeched back to me, "Shut your mouth before I rearrange your face with my rollin' pin!"
HAH! I'd like to see her try.
I noticed it was eight thirty already; I would be late if I didn't hurry! I pulled on a pair of ripped jeans and a black halter-neck off the floor and ran out of the house. I decided to pick up a cup of coffee from Starbucks as I passed.
I ran out of Starbucks with a large coffee in my hand, some spilt on my wrist.
"Argh, shit!" I swapped coffee-holding hands and sucked my slightly scalded wrist.
I skidded around the East Avenue corner and stopped outside Skin Art.
I stared into my half full coffee cup, shrugged and threw it into a nearby bin. That's the first time I've ever wasted so much coffee, but I knew why, because it was for love. I hesitated before pushing open the glass door. The familiar tinkling sound of the door bell came to me as I stepped through. Tim waved at me and urged me to come in.
'Right,' I thought. 'I'm ready for it'.
I gently placed the clock back and sat up on my bed, never taking my eyes off the black electronic.
"Thank you very much, Brad," I heard Billie's sweet voice fill my ears.
Then the moment was gone and Brad McRally's cheesy voice began again.
"Wow, we really can't believe we have you guys here today, it's just amazing. You've just finished your tour, haven't you? What was it like?"
"It was awesome; we couldn't believe how many people were there, could we?"
"Nope," Mike, the talented bassist added. "It was jaw dropping. Wasn't it like 7,500 people?"
"Oh, I only managed to count 7,498." Tré, and one of his random jokes.
"But you're a drummer, you should be able have counted how many were actually there," Brad joked.
"Yeah, I know. But it's great isn't it; my work consists of me counting up to four repeatedly, and I can still say I'm a drummer."
They all laughed. But Billie's laugh was the nicest...
"So anyway, we have a ton of questions to ask you guys. But what we'd like to know is, what do you do with your spare time?"
"Well..." Mike began, just before Tré butted in.
"Fiddle about...fiddle about..."
"Wow! Well, I don't know about us guys over here, but I think the ladies might like to know Tré has just stuck his hands down his pants!" A synthesised wolf-whistle was played in the background.
"We all know Tré, so don't worry, he is the dirty bastard of the group after all. Our advice is, fathers, lock up your alcohol cupboards and hide your daughters!"
I laughed aloud; Billie was always a very quick one for funny comments.
"Next questions then, what are you guys going to be doing today? Anything exciting, anything special perhaps? Hmmm?"
"Nothing really..." Billie began. My heart sunk.
Mike gasped.
"Billie!" he exclaimed, "You little liar!" Mike then turned to Brad. "Well, Billie's gonna get a new tattoo today!"
My eyes widened; my heart fluttered. There was no doubt about it, Billie was really going to come!
"Oh yeah, I nearly forgot! He he." Somehow he sounded a bit, well, sad.
"Ah! A new tattoo! What are you going to get? Where are you going to get it?"
"That, Brad, I can't tell you, it's too personal for now. But, I'm sure one of the fans will find out soon enough."
Could Billie be talking about me? Has Tim told Billie about me? I started to shake all over, I just couldn't help it. I was too excited. The host carried on...
"So anyway, Billie, speaking of fans, you have a great deal of them that would really love to date you. So what would you look for in a girl, huh?"
"Who said I liked girls? Ha ha ha, nah, I'm just messing. Well, I'd say, my ideal girl would have, blonde long hair, beautiful blue eyes, averagely built, and is very creative."
"Well, I gotta stop you there, Billie," that cheesy voice was back again. "Time flies when you're having fun."
"It sure does," added Tré, sounding a lot more relaxed than what he was before...
"Thanks anyway for dropping by, guys, and hope all goes well for the future! This is Brad McRally saying, Ciao for now California!"
Silence.
That matched me. That, that description matched me perfectly! I couldn't contain myself; I grabbed the clock and screamed,
"I LOVE YOU BILLIE!"
Just then my grouchy next door neighbour, Mrs. Litch (aka, Mrs. Bitch) screeched back to me, "Shut your mouth before I rearrange your face with my rollin' pin!"
HAH! I'd like to see her try.
I noticed it was eight thirty already; I would be late if I didn't hurry! I pulled on a pair of ripped jeans and a black halter-neck off the floor and ran out of the house. I decided to pick up a cup of coffee from Starbucks as I passed.
I ran out of Starbucks with a large coffee in my hand, some spilt on my wrist.
"Argh, shit!" I swapped coffee-holding hands and sucked my slightly scalded wrist.
I skidded around the East Avenue corner and stopped outside Skin Art.
I stared into my half full coffee cup, shrugged and threw it into a nearby bin. That's the first time I've ever wasted so much coffee, but I knew why, because it was for love. I hesitated before pushing open the glass door. The familiar tinkling sound of the door bell came to me as I stepped through. Tim waved at me and urged me to come in.
'Right,' I thought. 'I'm ready for it'.
