¿Viva La Gloria? (Little Girl) {Green Day Fan Fiction}

Two

Somebody was shaking me. I flinched back from the contact and hesitantly opened my eyes, expecting to see my fathers cold blue eyes staring back at me. Instead, I found myself curled in a ball in a corner of a bus, the lady who was driving leaning over me slightly - I guess she was the one shaking me. 

"We're here..." She trailed off at the confused look in my eyes, "California?" Oh.

"Oh, thank you." She smiled sadly at me, I don't know why - it's not like she knew about Daddy dearest. I stood as she backed away and grabbed my duffel bag from the space at my feet, dragging it along the floor and let loose a yawn. I rubbed my eyes and thanked her before climbing off the bus and assessing my surroundings.

I was stood next to a bus shelter, a row of well kept houses behind me with large front gardens all  with freshly mowed grass, the moonlight reflecting off of the large front windows. The pavement beneath my feet was smooth with no cracks. There were no cars parked on the street, my guess was they're all in the garages next to the houses. I'd give anything to live in a house like that.

I sighed and shouldered my bag, walking down the road away from the nice houses. "Do you have somewhere to go?" I jumped and spun around, I forgot the bus driver was there. "Kid?"

"I'm not a kid, alright?" I snapped at her, my glare softened as I looked down at my feet. "I'm sorry. Stress, y'know? Yeah, I've got somewhere to go." I glanced back up at the woman and looked back down again at the sight of her saddened eyes. 

"Alright," I waved at her and started off down the road. I didn't have anywhere to go, I lied because she'd tell the police otherwise, and I don't want to end up back home. After about five minutes, I started coming across stores, it was deserted, but a quick glance at the beat up watch in my wrist told me why; It's half four in the morning. The only people out at that time are drunks and druggies, and I've had enough of them to last me a lifetime.

I didn't see any motel signs when I was walking so I cut down an alley way and settled on a doorstep, leaning my back against the brick wall and resting my duffelbag in the space under my knees. I reached in my pocket for my Mp3 player to find it empty. "Just great. I must've left it on the bus..." My mumble sounded loud in the quiet of the alley. 

I guessed the doorway I was sat in was the backdoor to a club of some sort, the beat of a terrible techno song could be heard from where I was sat, the bass shaking the steel door. I pushed my blond hair out of my face and leant against the door, there's no way i'm getting any sleep with this noise. "Might as well try..." 

I settled down against the wall and closed my eyes.

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"Come on, man, we need to go, Addie won't be happy I've left her with the kids all night." A mans voice floated through the air but I barely registered it, I was still in the phase of sleep where I was unaware of everything around me.  

"Billie, you can barely walk, let alone drive home, just stay at mine for the night." A second voice started before I heard a door opening and a...shove... in my side. My eyes snapped open as I landed on my stomach on the gravel next to the doorway, I groaned and heard a similar noise being made from beside me as I pushed myself up. "Dude, are you alright?" I nodded my head slightly at the question and accepted the hand that was held out to me.

"Fine," I looked into the mans face and had to look again, no freaking way. "Oh my god." There, stood before me in all his glory was Mike freaking Dirnt, the bassist for Green Day, and one of my favourite people ever. 

Mike smiled slightly and nodded, gathering that I knew who he was. Oh my god. I just hope I don't puke on him out of nervousness or something. Oh god now I'm thinking about throwing up, great just brilliant this is exactly what I needed. Ah he's talking! What did he say?!

"Sorry... I kinda zoned out, what did you say?" I avoided his eyes as I mumbled the question, my embarrasment increasing when he let out a small chuckle.

"I said 'Can you let go of my hand?' I think Billie needs some help getting back on his feet." I blushed as I realised I was, in fact, still holding his hand. Awkward. I dropped his hand and stepped out of his personal space as he walked around me to the source of the groaning I heard earlier. 

There, layed on the ground, was Billie Joe Armstrong. Wait, was he the one that knocked me off the step? Or was I the one that tripped him up? Oh my god I KILLED BILLIE JOE! "Is he okay?! Oh god, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have been sat on the step, I wouldn't have got in the way!" I kept on babbling out apologies to Mike and Billie Joe until Mike held up a hand and turned to me with a slight smirk on his face.

"Dude, it's fine, he's wasted, it looks worse than it is. Billie, come on, there we go." Mike hauled the half concious Billie Joe to his feet and wrapped his arm around his waist, "Well, I gotta get this one home," He gave the arm around his shoulder a slight shake, "See ya, kid." I waved slightly as he stumbled down the alley and down the road.

I slouched against the wall just as everything that just happened crashed down on me and I staggered slightly, 

Oh. My. God.