Billie Joe Armstrong is my step-father... and I hate it [EDITING]

9. Why Do You Want Him? [EDITED]

A/N: Brandon Flynn is the closest I could find to how I envisioned Danny. Not 100% there but I would give Brandon a good 91% closeness to how Danny looked in my head.

Danny and I stood outside the studio. He didn't have anything to do after classes, which ended a bit earlier than usual so he offered to wait with me until Billie picked me up from classes. Usually, I drove but since he had to make sure I was definitely coming, he insisted on dropping me off and picking me up from dance class, which annoyed me to no end.

It was cold and it looked as though it threatened to rain, which was ironic if nothing else was. I shivered a bit, pulling my jacket around myself a bit more. I glanced towards Danny. "Don't suppose you have a cigarette you could give me?"

Danny laughed and gave me a sideways look. "Since when did you smoke?"

"Since this week. And trust me, with the evening I have ahead of me, I need a fucking cigarette," I muttered, glancing back towards the road.

Danny was quiet for a moment, his blue eyes taking in the road a bit as well before he turned to look at me. "Why did you even agree to this again?"

"Beats me, honestly. I was hungover yesterday and I just wanted him to shut up so I said yes," I said, glumly. I went through school that whole day dreading this meeting I was supposed to have with Billie and Andy had tried to reassure me that it would be fine and at least I was getting free food out of it. Danny, who knew me better, said it would only end in an argument.

Which was most likely the right answer of the two.

"Are you sure you don't want me to drive you home?" he asked again, giving me an uncertain look.

I chewed the inside of my cheek and debated on whether or not I should just give up on this and head home, but before I could make up my mind, Billie's car pulled up outside the studio. I groaned a bit and slumped my shoulders in defeat. "Too late now, isn't it?" I said, picking up my bag. "Thanks for offering anyway, Danny. I'll talk to you later, alright?"

He nodded and he gave me his usual hug goodbye and even gave a wave to Billie. That was Danny for you - he was the typical, well mannered boy next door. He wouldn't harm a fly. I made my way towards the car and shoved my bag in the back, hopping into the front seat.

"Who's that?" was the first question to leave Billie's mouth, nodding towards Danny, who was getting into his own car.

"My dance partner," I said, as though it were plainly obvious.

He nodded slowly. "You know, I never knew they did Irish dancing lessons in here. I never knew anyone who could do it. Do you like it?"

"No, I do it because the government makes me," I replied sarcastically, pulling on my seat belt rather aggressively. "I've been doing it for twelve years Billie, what do you think?"

"I guess that was a bit of a stupid question," he reasoned, pulling out the car park. As we started to drive, the sky began to spit down some rain. We drove in silence for a while before he spoke again. "I'm sorry about yesterday."

I furrowed my brow and looked at him. "Yesterday?"

"I just want you to know... You're right. I'm not your dad and I would never try to tell you what you can or can't do. Besides, you had a point. You're eighteen, perfectly capable of making your own decisions," he told me, his voice calm and rather sophisticated. Never in my life when I was a Green Day groupie a few years ago did I think I would hear Billie speak like that to me.

Nor did I ever think I would be sitting in the same car as him. I certainly didn't think I wouldn't have liked it either, but lo and behold, here we were.