The Jesus of Suburbia

St. Jimmy

Tré Cool and Mike Durnt walked into the room and I completely froze.

Billie was right behind them.

For some reason, seeing Tré and Mike was more shocking then meeting Billie. In my mind, Billie was replacing my father and I didn't like that.

Tré stepped towards me and bounced a little on his feet. "You're Billie's new kid!"

I nodded after a hesitant moment, still unable to speak.

Mike, the notably mature one in the band, extended his hand which I shook firmly. "Nice to meet you."

Joey seemed to find my verbal coma amusing and went so far as to snort.

I glanced at him and then looked back at Mike and Tré.

"Nice to meet you too, I-" I paused, wondering how stupid I'd sound if I complimented their music. That was too cliche, wasn't it? I turned my attention to Billie and finished weakly with, "I really like the room. The posters are rad."

Tré went over to the posters and looked at them all with a childish smile.

Billie smiled but then shrugged, "Most of the decoration credit goes to Joey."

Joey nodded proudly and looked around the room. It was somewhat bare, but I'm sure that would change once I got my stuff and the posters up.

Tré held up a poster of Marylin Manson and waved it around. "You like him too?"

I nod, "Yeah, he's amazing." Then I look at the posters behind him with a slightly possessive stare.

I was getting the feeling that all the guys in the room used to be like me. Sure, I took the physical stuff to a harsh extent but still.

I sit in a chair by the empty desk and turn to face them all. Really, I had to say something. Green Day is literally in my room, complimenting my music taste.

"I don't mean to be really cliche, but your music has saved my life more then once."

As soon as I finished Tré and Mike glanced at Billie, as if expecting him to respond. Billie looked at me silently. His expression wasn't judging, just contemplative.

Mike spoke, "I'm glad it has. I guess our music has sort of saved our lives too, right?"

Billie nodded. "What song?"

Looking down, I bite the edge of my lip for a moment. "St. Jimmy and Jesus of Suburbia. I feel like I can relate to them."

Everyone nods, though Joey looks a bit dazed.

"I wrote those songs based of myself." Billie says.

I feel slightly violated by his tone, but when I look up I find his expression is slightly sad, not accusing.

Tré sits down at the edge of my bed and says, "I like you, Red."

The words made my cheeks heat up a big and I put a hand to my eyebrow where I mess with the ring there.

"You're pretty cool too."

Pun intended.

He laughs and then asks Billie, "Is he coming on tour with us?"

Billie gets a mischievous look on his face and shrugs. "I don't know yet. I have a bet with him. Red's going to write a song and put it on YouTube. If it gets less then 50 dislikes, then yes he is."

Mike asks, "You got a guitar or something?"

"Yeah." I answer, standing up and going over to my larger suitcase. My guitar is covered in stickers, but you can still see the 1950's blue on the back of the neck and around strings.

"It was my dad's when he started playing," I explain, "He bought it from some record store. The salesperson said it was from 54'"

"And it still works?" Billie asks in a surprised tone, coming over to stand next to me.

"My dad kept it up."

As he reaches out to touch it, I move it away, back into the case. He looks slightly hurt but retreats back to a comfortable slouch against my wall.

"Well uh- I'm going to get unpacked and write something, probably."

They see it's their cue to go and head towards the door. Mike puts a hand on my shoulder and whispers something in my ear before following the other three out.

"Give him a break. Seeing yourself for the first time in nineteen years is probably hard for him. I know this adoption is hard too but-"

"I'm not Billie." I whisper harshly before shrugging his shoulder off and going towards my suitcase.

His eyes bore into my back for a few seconds before I hear the door close.