Male/Ftm Reader x random

Billie Joe Armstrong x ftm!reader pt.2

A/n: Not proofread. Warning for strong language ahead.

(Billie's POV)
I heard (Y/n) wish us luck as we ran onstage, I smiled a bit to myself then turned and assessed the crowd. It was almost a full house, and my stomach sank a bit as I say the stereotypical older punk-rocker near the front. Now, I don't usually assume people are going to be a problem because I am often wrong about that, but I could see it in his eyes. I could tell he hated the fact that a band he liked could have a queer lead singer. I shrugged it off, hoping by poor intuition would save me his time, but alas, I was wrong.
"Hey everyone, Look! It's the fairy who thinks he can be a real man," he shouted. He pushed his way through the crowd, spilling his beer on anyone within arms reach. I side-eye Mike and roll my eyes. He shrugs and signals that we should just start playing. I hesitate, looking for a security guard or something. Thankfully there was one making her way over. A devilish smile makes its way onto my lips as I start the concert off strong with "Coming Clean." The show seemed to go surprisingly slow. Finally, the encore rolled around, soon we were finished. I walk backstage, following Tré and Mike to our dressing room.

(Y/n's POV)
After I called good luck to the boys, I pulled up the old folding chair I had found earlier. I started watching them from the wings. Then I heard it, the drunk idiot who decided it was alright to open his big ass mouth. My stomach sank. I tried to think of what Billie would say. Probably something like 'It's not your fault, you can't help what other people do.' or 'Don't worry, he's not a real fan anyhow.' It didn't work. I slowly stood up and put the chair back where I found it as I heard the first cords of the song begin. "Comming Clean" Billie did have a good sense of humor. I walked back to the dressing room, the feeling of embarrassment and a twinge of shame sat like a rock in my stomach. Soon a dull ache crept into my head. I laid down and covered my eyes with my arm.
I opened my eyes and moved my arm from over my eyes. I swung my legs over the side of the couch and sat up. My phone said that I had only been asleep for an hour. I hung my head groggily for a moment feeling like I slept for at least a week. The music of the concert still continued in the background, worsening my headache. I stand up and go to search for some coffee. A little way down the hall was a breakroom with a coffee maker. Thank St. Jimmy. as I was walking back to the dressing room I heard the crowd start to shout "Encore! Encore!" My concept of time has been really off today, but whatever. I go back into the dressing room and find some random magazine to start reading.
Soon the boys walk in, and they look exhausted.
"Hey, sweetheart, ready to go clubbing?" Billie asks already rearing to go.
"I sure as Hell am!" Tré interjected.
"As am I," Mike added.
"(Y/n) how about you?" Billie asked again.
"Um, yeah, can you give me a sec. I'll meet you out in the parking lot. "
"K, see ya out there. " Tré said heading out the door. Mike tipped his head as he followed. Billie hung back and sat down next to me on the couch. It felt nice to just be alone with even for a moment. I put down the magazine and finished my cup of coffee. Then I turned to him and hear what he had to say.
"Are you okay (Y/n)? You have been acting strangely for the last couple of days." Billie asked, the concern clear in his eyes.
"Yeah, I'm fi-"
"No, I don't think you are. I know you like the back of my hand darling and something is clearly off. Please tell me what's wrong. "
"Billie, it's nothing."
"(Y/n), I think you owe me a better explanation than that. And you know what, to add on while we are on the topic, why has Tré been checking on you all the time?"
"Okay, okay. I've been trying to stop taking my anxiety meds lately and Tré was just making sure that I did take them."
"Why? Why are you trying to stop taking your meds and tell Tré instead of me? Do you not trust me?!"
"First off, I was doing it for you okay? I know how these fucken pills make me feel. I'm always either sick or tired and when I am you always stay behind and take care of me. You don't ever go out or have fun with Tré or Mike when I can't go and it makes me feel like I'm depriving you of fun. The only reason I even told Tré was because he confronted me about it last night. We talked and it ended with him saying that you were an adult and could make your own choices."
"Well, I have to agree with Tré on this, but baby, why didn't you feel like you could trust me?" "Hey, are you two coming or not?" Mike asks after knocking on the door.
"Yeah, sorry, we are coming," I respond and get up from the couch.
"Which club do you want to go to first?" Billie asked as we exited the stadium.
"Well, the furthest one is 'The Midnight Scene'. I figured we would start there then work our way back." I responded.
"Sounds good to me," Tré says, and we were off. We walked along the sidewalk and talked some. We mostly chatted about that ridiculous heckler from earlier. The feeling of embarrassment still sat in my stomach. Billie and I walked next to each other but we hardly talked to one another. It was a tense and awkward walk to the club.
Finally, we arrived at the club and were immediately let in. Dating a guy in such a well-known band does have it's perks. Once we were inside, we all kind of dispersed. Tré and Mike went to go find some girls to have some fun with. I went to go dancing, and Billie sat at the bar and watched me mingle. Normally Billie and I would dance together, but neither of us was in the mood for that.