Viva La Gloria, Oh Little Girl!

Little Girl, Little Girl why are you crying

THIS IS CRINGEY!! DO I CARE??? NO!!! ENJOY FELLOW IDIOTS!!

Jaylen POV

I sat on my bunk in Mrs. Mack's orphanage, blasting Burnout by Green Day in my ears. God, I don't know if I'd still be alive if it weren't for Green Day. They've helped me with everything really. All their songs have helped me get through so much, and they don't even know I exist! It's crazy how that happens. The people you admire most, have helped you more than you can put into words, don't know who you are, how they've helped or the lasting impact they've made on your life.

"MOVE YOUR BUTT JAY!! EMO PEOPLE ARE COMING TO ADOPT!!" I heard Maddie, the most annoying, fakest girl,  in the whole orphanage, yell.

"Yeah, sure they are." I said, sarcastically.

"No seriously Jaylen, they are!" She said.

"Ugh, fine." I said, slowly pulling myself out of my bunk. My dyed black hair with red ends fell to my shoulder as I fixed my side part. I tied my flannel around my waist and stuffed my Walkman in my pocket. I straightened my St.Jimmy shirt I had on. "Rage and Love" I said, walking out of the room. 2005, a year after American Idiot came out and still nothing has topped it for me, and that's saying something!

I slumped against the wall and stared at the floor. Even if these people we're a even a little bit emo, they wouldn't want a little street kid like me. I wore my ripped up sleeveless Rage And Love shirt, black ripped jeans, sleeveless denim jacket, flannel around my waist and my red high top converse. I looked homeless. I wasn't embarrassed by it. This is my style. Unfortunately my style doesn't appeal to everyone. But apparently it does to people when you least expect it to...

Billie Joe Armstrong POV

Today's the day. I'm going to adopt a kid. A freaking kid. I really don't know if I'm ready for this, but I'm gonna do it. I've wanted to do this for a while, I just had to mentally prepare myself for it. I have no wife, not even a girlfriend, so single dad, yay! I have Mike and Trè to help me this kid. Mike, well I'm not honestly sure what he'll do, Trè, he'll just be another child no doubt. Great help y'know. Mike and Trè are gonna be the uncle's that when dad's not home they let this kid be a complete heathen. But, even without a real partner and no real help at all, I still gotta raise this kid. I looking for a kid over 10, so at least they won't be too hard to handle. Hopefully.

I walked into the orphanage and a lady greeted me as she led me up a staircase where I saw what seemed to be hundreds of little kids. Some of them looked hopeful, some looked sad. It makes me feel bad for all he one's I won't be picking today.

"Would you like to speak with the children so that you can get a feeling for them?" The woman said. She terrified me for some reason. I shook my head yes as she led me to an office room and left me there for a few seconds before someone back with the first kid. We talked for a bit and when it was time for the next kid I instantly crossed him off the list. He was waaaayyy too stubborn and impatient.

We went through waht seemed like hundreds of kids before she finally brought a girl back, probably early teens I'd say 14ish? She had shoulder length black hair with red ends. What drew me the most attention was he fact her shirt said had the Rage And Love symbol on it. She seemed to freeze up a bit when she walked into the room.

"Hi." I said, and gestured to the seat next to mine.

"Hi" She stuttered out.

"What's your name?" I said. I was talking to a teenager so I didn't have to the little kid voice anymore, thank God.

"Jaylen, but I go my Jay." She said, sitting down slowly.

"I'm guessing you know who I am by the look on your face." I said laughing a bit.

"You're Billie Joe freaking Armstrong." She said, laughing.

She's the one. I already knew. She had a great sense of style and music, i could already tell. She also had an aura, I guess you could say to her. Like she was a gueniune person.

"So Jay, what are some things you like to do?" I aksed, trying to make small talk.

"I love to listen to music and play drums. I also play guitar, but I'm best on the drum kit." She said, smiling down at her knees.

"What kind of music do you like?" I asked.

"Obviously Green Day" She laughed." I also love My Chemical Romance, Sex Pistols, The Ramones, Clash, Misfits, Social D, pretty much all punk rock." She said, now looking at me "  I also love metal music like, Slipknot, Metallica, Motorhead, Iron Maiden, Drowning Pool, wait that's metal right?" She said, laughing as she asked.

"It's fast, it's loud, you can't understand what their saying but you love it anyway, hey it's metal in my book!" I said, she laughed a genuine laugh.

"You got good taste kid." I said. She seemed to blush and shrink back at this remark.

"Alright are we all finished up here?" The freaky woman said as she suddenly barged into the room, causing me and Jay to jump.

Jay stood up and started for the door.

"Actually, I think I've made my decision." I said, causing both to looked extremely surprised.

"Jay, you're coming home with me." I said. After I did she flung herself into my arms, crying bit. I'll be honest I was too. She was pretty much perfect even though I had known her roughly ten minutes.

"Thank you!" She choked out between her tears of joy.

"Alright Mr. Armstrong I need you to sign these documents, here and here." The freaky lady said gesturing to two blanks on a paper.

Jay POV

I ran down the hall to get my stuff. This is it. Im finally getting a home! Not just any home either, no! But a home with freaking Billie Joe as my adopted dad. It honestly does not get better than that. I put at my CD's and sketchpads into my backpack and stuffed my clothing and vinyl  into my small suitcase, while grabbing my guitar and putting it into it's case.

I ran back down to the office to see Billie, or Mr. Billie, er uh, Mr. Armstrong, or whatever he wants me to call him waiting for me.

"You set kiddo?" He said grabbing my suitcase from me.

"Yeah." I said, smiling more than I ever have in a long time.