Chapter 11 - Stuck in a mosh.

“Hey is Adi there?” I said, stepping inside Billie’s house. Billie called out for Adi.
“What’s up?” he asked, looking at me. I must’ve looked bad because he had his ‘is-she-alright?’ look on his face.
“Fine, ADI!” I called out, needing to speak to her. She ran down the stairs.
“Jeez! I was just having a shower but no.... anyway! What’s up, Hun?” I walked up to her in her dressing gown, grabbed her arm and lead her somewhere more private.
“I spoke to Tre,” I said. She nodded.
“And?”
“He... he told me some of his feelings how he took life for granted and that’s basically what’s got into him and... Adi... he...” I looked at my feet.
“What did he do?” she asked.
“Kissed me...” I mumbled only loud enough so that she could barely hear it.
“He WHAT!” she stormed out of the room, and then a few seconds later came back with Billie.
“Samy, tell my husband what Tre did!” she stared at me. I felt like a little kid ratting out their friend, but it had to be done. It was irresponsible of him to kiss me. He should know that, I do.
“Tre kissed me,” I said, looking anywhere but at Billie’s expressionless face.
“Well,” he said, looking around.
“Well, WHAT Billie?” Adi shouted, “He can’t go round kissing people half his age! Especially since she’s his best friend’s daughter! That’s just WRONG!” she picked up the phone.
“Adrienne, don’t call anybody. You know Tre’s going through a rough time. He probably didn’t mean it,” Billie placed the phone down that was once in Adi’s hand. It was weird hearing her being called Adrienne.
“But, we have to speak to him,” she pleaded.
“No, we don’t. It’ll just cause a big fuss. He’ll be thankful if we don’t say anything,” Billie seemed to be really taking charge of this.
“And what if he does it again?” Adi said, staring right at him.
“THEN we’ll speak to him. One time is a mistake. Two times... sexual assault,”
The last sentence Billie said rung in my head for the rest of the day. Sexual Assault... Tre... no, I have to speak to him.
“Samy, I think its best you stay away from Tre...” Adi said, looking at me. I stood up, and left.
 
“Samy... what’s up?” my dad had a concerned look on his face, “Adi just rang and told me what happened... Are you okay?” I kicked my shoes off and dumped myself onto the couch.
“I fracking hate this,” I said, “Sorry... swearing,” my dad shrugged, “As soon as my life starts to get a tiny bit better... something bad happens! It’s so annoying! Why can’t my life just be good for once?!” I kicked the coffee table.
“Hey, hey, hey... be careful!” he said, patting the table. I smirked.
“If only you were that over protective of me,” I said, smiling. He frowned at me.
“I am, but I thought I could trust Tre with my own daughter, apparently I can’t. I am going to speak to him now,” he stood up. I followed him.
“I’m coming, and don’t say I’m not because if you do then I will be very, very annoyed,” he nodded, looking like he didn’t want me to come. I smiled and let myself out the open door. When we stepped out, the cold, wet, drizzling rain was hitting our heads and shoulders. We both ignored the fact and kept walking.
“TRE,” he knocked as loud as possible on Tre’s door. I heard a groan and then a few locks undoing.
“YOU! EXPLAIN NOW!” my dad shouted. I stared in disbelief.
“I am so sorry. I was so caught up in what was happening that I forgot that it was totally off boundaries! I am so, so sorry! Please, Samy, forgive me!” Tre looked pleadingly at me. I nodded, what else was I supposed to do?
“Tre, you’ve got to be careful with what you do or say,” my dad said, frowning. He nodded.
“I know, oh um... the manager just phoned. Looks like we’re performing tomorrow night for charity...We really need to sort out a song list and practice. We haven’t played in a long, long time,” Tre said.
“I’ll go collect Billie. Come on, Samy,” we walked over to Billie’s and knocked on the door.
“Hey, what’s up? Did you speak to Tre?” he asked straight away looking at me. I nodded.
“Everything’s fine, but we really need to practice. The dickhead of a manager only just told us that we’re performing tomorrow night. We need to sort out a song list,” he grabbed Billie’s arm and we went back to Tre’s, where he had his garage set up as a practicing studio sort of thing.
“Can I stay?” I asked, smiling. They all nodded and begun working.
“How about American Idiot?” Tre said, writing it down.
“Obviously, that was rather popular, how about Jaded?” Billie said, writing it down.
“She,” my dad said and wrote it down.
“Dominated Love Slave!” Tre exclaimed, happily. Billie laughed.
“Alright, how many songs do we need?” he asked.
“Well, they said about 10 songs... but we should have one as back up just in case they want more,” Tre said.
“THE LIVING END!” I screamed, happily, “We should get them to perform with you! I mean, they’re here, aren’t they? Why not let them perform with you! I know heaps of people that love both Green Day and The Living End. It’ll be an awesome concert!” I said, my dad nodded.
“Samy, that’s actually a REALLY good idea!”
“Basket Case,” Billie whispered to himself, writing it down.
“Samy, go get Chris, Scott and Andy... they’ll be lurking around here somewhere,” my dad said, pointing towards the door. I smiled and ran out, on the lookout for The Living End. I checked my house and Billie’s house then headed off for the town.
 
I ran into Rudy’s Can’t Fail café, panting. I hadn’t run that much since... well, since I raced Frankie to class that morning when I broke my arm. Good times...
“Jenny! Have you seen – CHRIS!” I shouted across the room to Chris Cheney, sitting down with Scott and Andy drinking a coffee. They looked up, surprised, probably thinking a teenie would be there wanting their autographs and wanting to marry them. They thought wrong.
“My... Dad....Needs....You,” I said, panting, “They...want...you...to....perform...with....them,”
“What? Samy... breathe,” Scott said, laughing and patting on the spare seat next to him. I sat on it. As soon as I caught my breath (finally) I started explaining to them.
“Their manager called today and wants them to perform for charity and I thought it would be a really good idea if you guys performed with them. They’ll perform some of their songs and you guys can help out or come on with a song with both of you or ... well I don’t know, do you have a car because running here from home is like running half the world. Its hell,” I said, in one very, very long breath. Chris nodded.
“Come on, I’ll drive,” he said, standing up, taking one last sip of his coffee, then leaving. The car radio had Bat Country by Avenged Sevenfold on it.
“Can’t you help me ‘cause I’m starting to burn. Too many doses and I’m starting to get an attraction,” I sung along, happily. Chris turned off the radio.
“I, uh....” he sat there, smirking, “I’m sorry but...”
“You suck at singing,” Andy finished his sentence, laughing.
“Well thank you very much! Scott, what do YOU think of my singing?” I said, knowing it would make Scott feel uncomfortable. I knew he hated my singing.
“I, uh... I love your singing Samy,” he said shaking his head.
“Why are you shaking your head, Scott!” I said, pretending to be shocked.
“Because you suck at singing, Samy!”
“Jerk,” I said, giggling. I leant over the two front seats and turned the radio back on. By this time Pussycat Dolls were on with Don’t cha.
“YUCK!” I said, going to turn it off but Chris stopped me.
“Don’t cha wish ya girlfriend was hot like me,” he said, swaying side to side. The car swayed with him on the road, going from one side to another.
“Don’t cha,” Andy sung, pretending to be a dancer. Fortunately, they didn’t know anymore of the lyrics and they turned the radio off. Scott and I sat in the back, very, very scared...
“Well...” I said, breaking the awkward silence.
“I spy with my little eye... something starting with T,” Scott said. I looked around.
“A tree?” I asked. He nodded. I remembered this game...
“I spy with my little eye... something beginning with T,” I said, watching Scott look around. This game pissed Chris and Andy off so much.
“Is it a tree?” he asked. I nodded.
“Good work,” I said, and then he spied something with his little eye. The game went on until Chris put the radio on full blast, playing Jesus of Suburbia by the one, the only.... GREEN DAY!
“No one ever died for my sins in hell as far as I can tell,” Scott tried to mosh to it, but unfortunately he had a seat belt on.
“WOOH!” he screamed as we stepped out of the car and into Tre’s house.
“And now, we enter the house of doom,” Andy said, randomly.
“Or the house of horniness,” Chris suggested, walking in without knocking.
“You can say that again,” I said, laughing.
“Or the house of horniness,” he said, again.
“I didn’t mean that literally, Chris,” I said, giggling.
“Or the house of horniness,” he said, once again.
“Stop it,” I said, laughing.
“Or the house of horniness,” he said, entering the garage where my dad, Billie and Tre were all sitting.
“Shut up,” I said, sitting down on a lounge.
“Or the house of horniness,” he said, again. I rolled my eyes and tried to ignore him, but he kept saying it.
“So do you guys want to perform with us tomorrow? We really need to sort out a song list, we have a list of your songs too just incase you do want to perform,” Billie said, with a cheesy smile... which was actually pretty cute.
“So far we have these of your songs: West End Riot, Prisoner of Society, Roll On, We Want More, Wake Up.... Second Solution, and yeah. What do you think?” my dad said. Chris nodded.
“Which songs of yours do you have?” he asked.
“American Idiot, Jaded, Dominated Love Slave, Jesus of Suburbia, St Jimmy, Homecoming, Longview; the Saints Are Coming, Hitchin’ a Ride,” he said, reading off the list.
“How many do you need?” Chris asked.
“Ten... so we need to cut off five. Two off each ... we need an extra one incase they want an encore,”
“I say we get rid of Wake Up and We Want more off ours,” Andy said, Chris and Scott nodded in agreement.
“I think we should get rid of the Saints Are coming and Dominated Love Slave,” Billie said, pointing at them off the list. My dad crossed the saints off the list then started crossing Dominated Love Slave.
“NO.... Please don’t, c’mon!” Tre said, smiling.
“Tre, you get to sing in Homecoming, and Dominated Love Slave might not suit it...” Billie said, “Come on, they don’t want to see you singing that,” he smirked. Tre chucked a drumstick at him.
“I’ll chuck a pick at you!” Billie said. I cracked up laughing.
“Goat Island, I must’ve watched that DVD a MILLION times!” I said.
“Ha-ha... god damn boat was in the fracking way! I wanted to see the fracking bridge!” he said. I nodded.
“I’ve never been on the harbour bridge,” I said, pondering into my own thoughts.
“We should go some day,” my dad said.
“We can take you! Seriously, we leave in a week, come back with us and we can go up to Sydney for a few days. I hear Luna Park is pretty cool up there and there are some nice beaches,” Chris said. My dad nodded.
“Awesome, we will,”
And it was as simple as that to organize a holiday for our family.
 
“ON STAGE IN SIXTY SECONDS!” shouted the stage manager. Tre jumped up and down hitting random objects with his drum sticks. Mike ran around in small circles and did little jumps every now and then. Billie, on the other hand, drunk beer with Chris and Scott. Andy was also hitting random objects, such as Tre.
“Good luck,” I murmured, giving my dad a small hug. He smiled.
“I hope you enjoy listening to us,” he said, getting ready to run on stage.
“TWENTY SECONDS!” the stage manager shouted again. They all got ready to run out. Their song list was:
American Idiot
Jaded
Homecoming
Jesus of Suburbia
St Jimmy
Longview
Hitchin’ a Ride
Roll On
Prisoner of Society
West End Riot
Second Solution
And to finish the show Tre was singing dominated Love Slave, yes, they gave into him.
 
“I wanna be your dominated love slave, I wanna be the one who takes the pain, you can spank me when I do not behave, smack me in the forehead with a chain,” Tre sung into the microphone as their last song. Millions of girls screamed, I noticed some signs saying ‘Marry me Billie Joe’ and ‘I wanna be your dominated love slave!’ I laughed at them, and then walked to the small caravan out the back of the stage where they all sat after a show to drink.
I made myself a beer and waited for them to come in; when they did they were covered in sweat and panting a lot.
“Good show guys!” they all clinked beer glasses and were speaking rather loud, after just being on a stage, shouting most of the time.
A few more of the bands that had performed also walked in. Which included; Jimmy Eat World, Jet, Red Hot Chili Peppers and a few others I didn’t recognize.
“BEER ALL AROUND!” Flea, from RHCP shouted, chucking beer to each of the men. I was the only girl there (Adi had to go to her friends baby shower) so I exited and went to find another girl to speak to.
I walked into another caravan where a whole bunch of women were sitting there. They must’ve been the families of all the men.
“Guards, there’s a fan escaped,” said the one with long, straight blonde hair and looked like she had fake boobs.
“Hey,” I said, pushing the guards off me, “I’m Mike Dirnt’s daughter,” I said, stepping away. They laughed.
“That’s what they all say, come on missy,” they pulled me out by my arm.
“I’m serious! I’m Samy Pritchard, I’m Mike’s daughter!” I screamed, as they threw me into the crowd where they were all waiting for more bands to come on. I started getting squashed by thousands of fans.
“GREEN DAY!” they all begun to chant, loudly.
“THEY’RE NOT COMING BACK ON!” I screamed, trying to prove them all wrong, when a beer can hit me hard on square on my forehead.
I tried to escape by getting the guards to pull me out but I couldn’t, I was too squashed. I tried to make eye contact with them as the crowd shouted “encore” for Billie, Tre and my dad to come back on. I was started to get annoyed.
“Help!” I screamed, trying to get the guards help. I’d never been in a mosh pit; I’d rather not have thousands of sweaty human beings rubbing their disgusting fat against my skin. I shuddered at the thought of it.
“WALL OF DEATH!” someone had gone to the stage and shouted it into the microphone, before having 5 or more guards tackle him to the ground.
The entire crowd starting splitting in two, counting down from 10. I gulped; I really didn’t want to be in a death wall. I’d heard of them, and certainly didn’t want to be in one.
“Get me out!” I screamed, starting to panic, “Please somebody get me out of here!” my breathing started getting heavier.
“THREE!” they all screamed. I was starting to cough.
“TWO!” they roared again, this time I saw thousands of people starting to run.
“ONE!” they all ran towards the middle, hitting each other. I was being trampled by thousands of them and nobody could help me.
“ARE YOU READY?” I heard Billie’s voice in the microphone. They all started cheering. Green Day had come back onstage. I started cheering too, hoping they would notice me and get me out of there.
“KING FOR A DAY!” Billie screamed, beginning to play and sing at the same time, which was apparently really hard. I’d never tried.
“LOOK AT ME, BILLIE JOE ARMSTRONG!” I screamed, hoping to get his attention. He looked at me then looked away, then must’ve realized who I was and smiled at me.
“GET ME OUT OF HERE!” I screamed at him. My dad must’ve noticed me, too, ‘cause he was starting to edge his way towards me. I think he mouthed ‘what are you doing?’ to me, but I wasn’t sure.
After that, I couldn’t remember anything because some asshole chucked a beer bottle at my head.

You are not authorized to comment here. Your must be registered and logged in to comment