Long Lost

Three people, three dreams, three corners of the world and one very insane government plot to kill off punk rock. United we stand, divided we fall. Billie-Joe Armstrong of Green Day, Michael Clifford of 5 Seconds Of Summer and Ellen Jefferson of Lossteel (Yeah she's fictional) end up in a whirlpool of disaster when they meet and realise they all have something in common...and it isn't just their love for punk rock. ~Sometimes what's written in the stars is written in our blood~

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3. Chapter Three

Screeches sounded as the top heavy tour bus jerked round another corner. Billie awoke with a start in the top half of the bus where he lay on his bunk; the sound of snores filled the air from his bandmates that were somewhere in dreamland in the bunks down the aisle. They were heading into London where they would tour several venues, embark on interviews and take part in signings and… it continued. For about a week or more, their future would lie in London, that’s where they’d be based, away from home, away from family, but not in the unknown. For sure. They had been here so many times. So many venues and tours across the decades that lay in their past. Green Day wasn’t just a band to them, it was their life, their worth, it was everything they had worked for and everything they could work towards. It was always to be improved and never to be forgotten. In some ways, it was even a life of its own. Billie Joe Armstrong lay awake, faintly hearing the sirens in the background as he listened to the voices that rushed into his head, plaguing him with an abundance of thoughts about his life choices that could never be figured out into some sort of organised fashion. He sighed. Taking from his bag a picture of his family, he stared long and hard at their happy faces. Adrienne, Joseph and Jakob. Grinning like Cheshire cats, their eyes were filled with glee and love and laughter and the joy that brought Billie was unreal. It was strange, he thought, how one picture could touch someone so much. No words, no communication. Just pure heart. It reminded him of what he’d got himself into all those years ago, being in a band, breaking through… becoming known throughout all corners of the world. Music had both saved and destroyed his life, but it was his dream and it had all been worthwhile. Or so he had always thought. There had been doubts over the years, of course there had; it was the same with anything. You start to doubt yourself and get depressed and think that it will all crash and burn and then find out the cliché of ‘you never know what you have until it’s gone’ to be true. Luckily for him, it hadn’t evaporated over time, it had actually done the complete opposite. Their fan base was stronger than ever before, their tours were sell outs, and they couldn’t stock enough merch in enough sizes. The issue was that he hardly ever saw his family. That was the heart of the problem, and funnily enough, the feelings did stem from that organ too. His heart ached every moment he spent away from his loved ones and it only stopped momentarily when the musical high of a performance would happen. It was difficult. But, of course, it was always going to be that way. It was always going to be hard, and it always will be. But hey, that’s the price you pay in the music industry. If you play your own ball game you’re bound to lose some things, but that is expected. And that’s the catch with freedom of voice and expression. If you want to do it your way, goddamn you have to be good and strong. Don’t let it change who you are, just play the game your own way. However, he had always believed in making sure his life wasn’t a complete misery, Adrienne helped with that. She was the light in the dark corners of his soul. She was the only woman he would ever love. If anything were to ever happen to her… he knew he would die of a broken heart. If not, he’d kill himself, just so he could be with her. His sons made sure he was grounded, but now that they were growing up, he soon realised one day he’d have no one to care for; they’d have families of their own and he wouldn’t be required. But there would always be something to keep him busy, the band made sure of that; his life made sure of that. Closing his eyes, his eyelids fluttered as they found peace in the darkness. A blank mind captivated him, but a thought weaved its way into his head, just as it was about to clear. ‘Despite their many attempts at making music of freedom and spirit and revolution, the power didn’t really listen. And the government? Well, the government were still bullshit.’
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