My Stepdad, Billie Joe Armstrong (Daughter of Rage and Love)

What Would You Wish If You Saw A Shooting Star, In An Ordinary World?

"So what do you think; the hills of iris with the scent of apricot wafting whilst giggling delicately in the sweet fruited air, or maybe you fancy lily tinted with Tahitian vanilla that twirls in creamy intoxication around your body?" Billie asked and sprayed the latter over my head.

"You did not just make that up," I grumbled while waving my hands over my head, trying to get rid of the stupid lily vanilla intoxication crap.

"Nope, it's right here in the little description on the back of the bottle, why? You think I'm too shallow to come up with something of this magnitude?" he asked, clearly offended.

"Yes, I never took you for a farting unicorn who speaks with lines of poetry type," I said and grabbed both of the sprays and put them back onto the shelf.

"I –" he was cut off by his phone which he quickly grabbed out of his pocket and uttered a curt 'hello'.

After listening for a minute or so, he said to me, "I'll be right back, you won't mind if I leave right?"

"Mind? No, none at all. Maybe I'll get lucky and you'll get lost on the way back."

"Oh har. Har de har." He grumbled and left the store, shaking his head.

I went back to mindlessly looking through all the lotions with names and descriptions that I couldn't have come up with in a million years and which, frankly, made me really want whatever it is they're taking at the company these names and products are manufactured in. Which is probably why I didn't notice the girl next to me until it was too late. A spray of lavender tinted with vanilla landed straight in my face, and my eyes started burning almost instantaneously.

"Fuckity fucking fuck why is this happening to me, I haven't even died and gone to hell yet," I half-yelled half-screamed, and brought my hands up to my eyes.

"I'm so sorry!" someone yelled from my right side as my eyes continued to burn in their sockets.

"It's okay," it's not like I need my eyesight or anything.

"There's a washroom in the back, let's go!" the mystery person said and dragged me off by the elbow.

"My name's Jasmine Ann Nicholson in case you want to sue me or be friends," she said while splashing water in my eyes.

"Hope," I said.

"Don't hope, your eyesight will be fine. But you can still sue me, I think I more than deserve it," she said in a tone laced with intelligence that bordered on the line of a 'know it all'.

"My name's Hope actually," I said as the water splashed with a gurgled urgency over my face.

"Oh so you want to be friends! Great! I'll give you my phone number after we get this exotic shit out of your eyes,"

"Nice to meet you," I said as she released me and I felt a dryness in my hands that couldn't have been anything else other than paper towels.

Wiping my face I came to a realization; my makeup must be smeared all over my face.

My new friend affirmed my thoughts with an, "Your makeup is a mess,"

"Thanks," I said and brought a hand to my face.

"No problem...wait, I have a mirror somewhere...oh here it is," she brought a mirror to my face and I took a step back when I saw my reflection. With makeup smeared all over my face and my mascara making its way down my cheeks in streams I resembled some unknown monster that no cryptozoologist has found or identified yet.

"I got it," she said and started to wipe my face. "There you go," she said and after checking the mirror I saw that she was right. She has somehow made me look somewhat presentable.

"Anyways, got a phone?" she asked as though nothing happened.

"Um, yeah," I said and handed her my phone. As she was punching her phone number in, I had time to observe her and commit to memory. Her fiery red hair, her deep dark forest green eyes, her face splashed with freckles like sun bleached spots, her small yet a little upturned nose, her high cheekbones, and the glasses that kept slipping off her nose and which she constantly kept sliding back in place with her hand.

She seemed to be a forest nymph spun from sunlight and liveliness.

"There you go, I'll text you then," she said and smiled at me, then asked again, her voice laced with concern, "Are you okay, really?"

"Yeah, yeah, stuff like this usually happens to me," I said and gathered my hair up into a ponytail.

"You look so cute with your hair up. Let's go back out in case your friend came back," she said, and I felt myself burn up like a pot on a stove as she grabbed me by the elbow yet again and dragged me outside.

"There you are! I thought you like, died or something," Billie came rushing at me like a bull.

When he saw Jasmine, he stopped dead in his tracks and stuck his hand out. "Billie, and you are? Hope's friend or girlfriend or something?"

Ah yes, the ever so humble Billie Willie.

"Friend I guess, I accidentally almost blinded her...my name's Jasmine," she said and shook his hand. I really hoped she didn't know his band, and judging by the looks of it she didn't. With a wave to me and a promise of 'I'll text you', she left, her red hair the last thing to flash in the sunlight before the front door slammed shut behind her.

I turned to face Billie, who was cheekily smiling at me and wriggling his eyebrows.

"What!" I yelled at him.

"Doooo yooouuuu likeee herrrr," he asked, stretching his words out, and winked.

"Ugh Billie. Frankly I would like my murderer more then I'll ever like you so yes, I guess I do like her," I said as he slung his arm around my neck and with a laugh that was somewhat half-amused half-hurt guided me out of the store.