I couldn't believe it. Here I was. With Green Day. Usually, I'd be flipping out, cursing, screaming, jumping, crying, etc. But, here, today, I had to remain calm, cool, and collective. After all, right now their first impression was that I was there to kill them. Honestly. I should just set it straight and explain everything to them in a nice, relaxed atmosphere.

"Don't kill us! Take...take whatever-anything! Just don't hurt us!" Mike started. The others added in seconds after.

I sighed. Perfect.

"Relax, I'm not going to kill you," I told them. "Or hurt you in any way, shape, or form."

I held my bleeding arm. Ouch, that hurts like hell!

"Then what are you here for?"

I held out my bleeding cuts. "Do ya think I did this on purpose?"

They didn't answer. Hey, I can't blame them. What would you do if some crazy girl in black crashed through your window?

"So..." They said nervously.

"May I explain, please? The last thing I need is for my idols to think I'm an assassin, right?"

"Idols?"

"God! Hel-lo! I'm a fourteen year old girl! I frick'en love you guys! It just so happens that your number one fan has superpowers."

"Oh...I..."

"I was being chased by these...people...and this cat lady She-Line. I kinda forgot to look where I was going."

"She-Line?" Tre asked.

"Like Feline."

"I don't get it."

"Neither do I." I told them.

They then offered me some bandages for my bloody cuts. I sat down as I bandaged myself up and explained the situation with great enthusiasm. I told them a little bit about myself, and they relaxed. Sort of. I mean, I got their vibe that they didn't trust me, which was understandable. I mean, yeah, I wouldn't trust me either, y'know?

"So...you're in a band, miss...?"

"Jimmy. Saint Jimmy."

"What?" They said simultaneously.

"Yeah, I know. But I...it's a long story. All and all, it's a nickname my friends gave me, and I decided to use that."

They gave uncertain nods of the head, full of confusion and disapproval.

"Anyway, yes, I am in a band. It's called The Losers On 12th Street. I'm lead guitar and vocals."

"Really? Impressive."

"Thank you. That means a lot." I said with a lot of pride.

"Would you play for us?"

"What? Me? Really?"

Oh my god...I'm gonna play Billie-Joe's guitar...in front of him...holy fucking shit!

Billie-Joe led me into another room. Damn, this hotel room was bigger than my entire apartment! I followed Mike and Tre because I didn't want to seem too eager. Honestly, I would've pushed them down.

And there it was. Almost shining with a holy light. Billie-Joe's Les Paul.

"Okay, kid, I mean, Jimmy, give it a go."

"What should I play?" I asked.

They shrugged.

Hrm...last time I really played one of these, I could play a song that I never learned before. Maybe I can impress them...

"Name a song."

"Huh?"

"Any song of yours at all. Name one."

Billie-Joe shrugged at looked at Mike and Tre.

"Uh...how about my favorite song on the American Idiot album. Do you know which one that is?"

"Duh. I watch fuse at my friend's house!" I said with accidental sarcasm.

And I started to belt out 'Letterbomb'