Chapter Four

I look up at the sky as Billie brings his bike to a halt. The sky is dark and the air surrounding us blows madly and I smell a storm brewing. Billie Kills the engine of the bike and squeezes my leg, bringing me out of my storm brewing thoughts. I remove my helmet as I wriggle back in the seat, giving Billie enough space to get off the bike. I pull the helmet off my head as the bike tilts slightly to the side as Billie kicks the stand down. He pulls his helmet off his head and brings up a free hand to rough up his helmet flattened hair, leaving me once again horrified of how my ponytail is holding up.

"For someone who hours ago had a great disdain for motorbikes seems to rather enjoy them." Billie smiles smugly at me as he turns to face me.

"Like I said, it's not what I expected. Although I can say I am still not a fan of helmet hair."

"It will grow on you." He laughs at me.

A flailing man catches my eye as he runs frantically towards us, his sandy brown Mohawk being blown slightly lopsided from the psychotic wind. Billie follows my gaze, letting out a brief laugh at the sight of this ecstatic man. Billie throws his leg over the bike and walks towards the man, He is far enough away for me to only hear bits of conversation.

"Jimmy! Bout time… Mike was… assuming you're hungover…" The strange man says.

"Sorry Tré… caught up…" Billie replies, me only hearing words faintly over the hurricane winds. They look over at me and Billie waves, I wave back. "… Attorney."

"Have you… Bella?" Billie shrugs indifferently to whatever Tré has said. He turns around and gestures for me to approach them. I get off the bike feeling the resistance from the wind as I do.

"Nora, this is our charismatic drummer, Tré Cool." The charismatic male extends his hand for me to shake.

"Pleased to meet you." I say politely taking his hand which he shakes energetically.

"Of course you are!" he laughs, Billie Joe just laughs shaking his head.

"Come on you two let's get inside before we get blown away." Billie suggests placing his hand on the small of my back leading me towards a stage side door.

Billie uses his other hand to open the door, a strange warmth flows from inside the building as we step inside. A man comes out of a room up ahead, his head turning towards us with a beer bottle in his hand. He lets out a sigh of what could be relief as he notices us.

"About bloody time Armstrong." The man says, his Californian accent heavy.

"Sorry Mike, Had some things to sort out with Miss Middleton."

"Right oh then, let's get to it then, the show starts in four hours."

"What about the weather?" Tré asks nobody in particular

"Management is still deciding, it is a huge thing to cancel a show they are hesitant." Mike informs him

"It's meant to be a snow storm, You can see it already forming."

"Then if the snow starts to fall they will cancel it. For now though we have to act as if the show is still going on. So sound check; now." Mike finishes with finality as he walks down the hallway.

"You go on with him Tre, I will take Nora somewhere where she will not become deaf." Billie Laughs and Tre just nods, still unsure about the proceedings.

Billie escorts me down the hallway into the room Mike had exited from. Lounge chairs surround a small glass table scattered with beer bottles and chip packets. He leads me past the messy room to a door behind it with his name written on it. I push the door open and I am inside a dark room, Billie switches on the light and I can now see a long red lounge chair, much like the ones outside his dressing room, a small table with a mirror on it with scattered objects laying carelessly on it. A rack sits on the other side of the room with a various array of black shirts and jeans and a colorful selection of ties hangs around them.

"I take it this is your dressing room?"

"What gave it away?" Billie laughs softly

"The clothes and the eyeliner." I turn to face him, my head tilted towards my chest and I look at him through my lashes.

"Not the mini fridge?" He winks at me taking a step in close to me he pushes a bit of hair to the back of my ear and lets his hand linger, "I thought that was the dead giveaway."

"The couch too is-" he interrupts me by pressing his lips against mine softly.

"You talk too much," His lips still on mine as he speaks, he presses them firmer against my lips and slips his tongue through my lips forcing them apart. Something different happens though, he smiles. "I have to go to sound check, stay here if you like it will be a lot warmer; otherwise you can follow the hallway straight and you will find the stage signs to follow and you can come watch. But I really have to go, Mike will have my head if I am not out there right now." With that he separates our bodies and with a half-smile he turns and walks out of the room, closing the door behind him.

I linger just staring at the door for no real reason, perhaps I am expecting him to run back through and surprise me as he had done in the elevator? He is right, it is much warmer in here, he must have the heating turned on; the promising warmth keeps me from running after him. Turning back around I look at the couch, it looks inviting but I do not feel like sitting idle right now. Taking to walking around the room I venture over to the small table and pick up his eyeliner. I bite my lip guiltily, the temptation to apply it is over whelming. I place it back down and stare at it, caving I pick it up and un cap it. Pulling my eyelid down I run a black line along my lower lashes, the black sticking to them in a dark, defining line; I blink letting my eyes adjust to normality again and before I ruin the surprise of the eyeliner, I apply the eyeliner to the other eye and blink a few more times.

Opening my eyes I see my relfection in the mirror; my eyes look rounder now and the brown iris seems somewhat less dull than before. I blush at the idea that I am actually wearing something of my client's. I feel the compulsive need to wipe away the makeup but I look at myself and I almost feel comfortable. Relaxing a little I let my hair out of its constricting pony tail and allow it to fall freely down my back. I bring the front bits of my mid-length black hair over my shoulders, it is a great improvement on my previous bike-haired self.

I put the eyeliner back in its place and look over some of the other things he has; a disguarded picture of his wife is covered by empty alcohol bottles. I move them out of the way and pick up the picture. His wife, or ex-wife, is very pretty, her blonde hair cut sharply and her piercing blue eyes stare at me, judging what I have done to their marriage. I haven't done anything to their marriage, it was over before I walked in. I feel myself smile smugly to myself, this is by far the most immoral thing I have ever done, but I just do not seem to care right now; Not with Billie Joe. I put the picture back, placing it back under the empty bottles and walk to the couch. I let myself fall freely to the couch, feeling mild exhilaration from the brief gravity defying moment. I sit back up, feeling the instantaneous boredom of being alone in this room. I look over to Billie Joe's clothing rack where I see a black jacket hanging freely at the end. I get to my feet and without a second thought I grab it and throw it around my shoulders. The intoxicating aroma of Billie Joe's scent fills my nose with alcohol and cigarettes, the smell of rebellion and sex appeal.

The sudden booming sound of live music fills the room, snapping me out of my lustful state. I contemplate removing the jacket and sitting back down, perhaps drift off into a temporary sleep; anything but let myself develop feelings for my client. I walk towards the door anyway and open it, I hesitate briefly as the sound grows louder and more enticing. I look into Billie's dressing room and turn the light off, my final decision. I want this man. I wrap his jacket around me tighter, holding him closer to me letting his scent consume me and reassure me that my decision will not end in vain, not like last time.

I walk out of the room and into the hallway where I am greeted by harsh frozen winds and an all-consuming clatter of music. Then first sign that indicates the way to the stage is in front of me and I follow it, turning into a new hallway I follow it to the end and I come turn at the end following the sound of music and the intensifying chill of the concert hall. Do you have the time to listen to me whine, about nothing and everything all at once… Billie's rock hardened voice blasts through the speakers suddenly, making me pause walking just to focus on the sweet sound. I fall in love with the sound of his voice lacing together with the guitar riff. Drums suddenly begin to lightly tap in the background. Suddenly the music explodes with a loud crash, I focus again on the lyrics, the story he is telling. I almost break into a run, desire to watch Billie in his element tries to overcome me and I try to fight it and keep an even pace. The music is so loud I can hardly hear my own thoughts but in a matter of seconds I am standing side stage staring at the beautiful man singing and playing guitar and my thoughts seem invalid anyway. He looks over at me in a break of vocals and winks at me before returning to his microphone and continuing the song. I lean against the wall beside me and for the passing moments I loose myself in the music, something I have not done in so long. I do not register the breaks in songs or the changes in them, they blur together in a sweet symphony, each song a new chapter in the one song. It is beautiful.

"Alright guys, we should check with management what the go is with tonight's proceedings," an unfamiliar voice fills the stereo system, ending the music abruptly, " Nice work Billie, Tré and Mike, the sound is all ready to go; I will let you know what management has decided soon as I can."

"Cheers Alex." Billie replies through his microphone to ensure his thanks reach out to the invisible man I assume is sitting behind some sound desk somewhere. There is an irritating ring left hanging in my ears from the loudness of the band, I try to shake it but I cannot. Billie walks over to me, his eyes scanning the jacket and eyeliner. "Got bored did we?"

"One can only entertain oneself so much in a room whilst such god-like symphony's sing through the walls." I joke; well half joke…

"Are you a fan now?" He smiles smugly at me, I nod nonchalantly and he breathes a laugh, sending a shiver through me, "Come on let's get you back to the dressing room, it is much warmer in there and we really do need to discuss my current situation."

Suddenly the magic from the music, motorbikes and coffee is gone and I am brought back to reality. I am his attorney not his girlfriend or muse, hi lawyer. I feel so stupid now, standing in front of him wearing his jacket and eyeliner. I feel my cheeks redden as my eyes drop to the floor, I cannot believe how unprofessional I have been acting. Billie Joe watches me as I fight my internal war and the redness of my cheeks deepen, I bite my lip and turn trying to stall his questioning until I get my shit together. Through my ringing ears I can hear Billie's footsteps close behind me keeping rhythm with my heartbeat. I follow the hallway back down towards the bands dressing rooms. Mike and Tre smile up at me as I enter the room and I smile back.

"What did you think?" Tre pipes up,

"You guys are pretty awesome, it sounded great!"

"Glad you thought so." Mike smiles

"Fun fact, that was the first sound check we didn't screw up!" Tre radiates with excitement, "You must be lucky to have around us Miss Middleton, I'll make sure Billie is always in need of a lawyer!"

"I don't think that will be necessary, far too risky, I am a good lawyer but even the best can lose the case. I do not believe Mr Armstrong would appreciate being behind bars." I laugh as Billie walks in the room.

"Don't knock it till you try it Billie." Tre winks at Billie who laughs and guides me to the dressing room.

"If you'll excuse us, we have a case to discuss in full disclosure." Billie informs the whole waiting room as we approach his dressing room; Tre mouths what Billie says as Mike brings him over a drink. They both clink glasses together as Billie closes the door behind us, I walk over to the couch and sit down. Beginning to remove Billie Joe's jacket as he sits across from me, he holds his hand out as if to say stop. "Leave it on, it looks good on you," he pauses as I shuffle the jacket back on properly, "I like the eyeliner to, the whole look suits you."

"So where do we start?" I ask, ignoring his tempting flirtations I try to hide my flushing cheeks.

"Well I suppose have to find either Joey or the parcel. I really don't see any way of finding Joey though; I don't know where these guys came from let alone where they disappear to." His response is somewhat distracted and damaged.

"Okay, so this parcel, do you have any idea at all what it could be?"

"No, I haven't received a parcel in a month, y'know."

"Perhaps it is an old parcel and it has taken them a while to track down to you?" I suggest hopefully in a helpful manner. "Perhaps something sent or kept within the family even?" Something about my suggestion sparks in Billie's eyes which are now glowing in hope, "What is it?"

"My dad had a box full of files that we were never to touch or discuss, being so young I thought nothing really of it, but maybe there was something in there?" I mirror his same expression, maybe, just maybe this could be it.

"What did your father do as an occupation?"

"From what I can recall he was just a truck driver, y'know."

"Dare I say it Billie Joe but I am thinking that perhaps he might just have been a little more than your everyday mundane truck driver."

Billie leans forward pressing his lips against mine, his tongue routinely parting my lips sliding his tongue leaving traces across my lower lip and I let my tongue follow as they dance. Professional or not I will let this kiss pass as an outburst of emotion, No more after this Nora Middleton not so long as he is your client.