The Shy Saint Jimmy (Greenday FanFiction)

We made our way to the Tour bus, but instead of hopping onto it, we decided to take the Holiday Mobile for a change of pace. It seemed like a perfect opportunity to get some fresh air before the longer bus ride later, and the vehicle had a vibe of its own-like a rolling getaway waiting to happen.

As we cruised down the streets, the familiar chords of "Still Breathing" filled the air. My favorite Green Day song. It felt so surreal hearing it play on the speakers while Billie sat beside me. The song's message of resilience and holding on was even more potent now, as if the universe had perfectly timed everything tonight. The streetlights passed by in a blur as we chatted, both of us enjoying the simplicity of the moment.

But then, as we neared McDonald's, the realization hit: we were driving in the Holiday Mobile, not the tour bus. And there was no way we wouldn't draw attention in this thing. I couldn't help but feel a bit nervous.

"Do you think we'll get recognized?" I asked, glancing at Billie, my voice a little shaky.

Billie raised an eyebrow, giving me that mischievous grin. "Probably. But hey, what's the worst that could happen? We're just grabbing some food, right?" He leaned back in his seat, relaxed as ever, while I squirmed a little at the thought of attention.

I let out a small laugh, trying to ease the tension. "Yeah, just grabbing some food... from the most famous fast food drive-thru in the world." As we pulled into the line, I could already see the staff's reaction. The worker behind the window was doing their best to stay composed, but there was no way they didn't recognize us. The question was-how would they handle it? Would they even believe their eyes?

"Let's get shades. I'll do the talking on the speaker." I grinned, ready to take charge. "Alright, good idea, Nova." Billie said, pulling on his shades with a confident smirk. Mike and Tré Cool followed suit, sliding on their own sunglasses.

Tré Cool, ever the tease, spoke in a deep, exaggerated voice, mimicking a bad secret agent. "So you'll do the talking, huh?" he said with a chuckle, making the rest of us burst out laughing.

I couldn't help but play along. "Yeah, I'll handle it," I said with a grin, adjusting my own shades and leaning toward the speaker. "Watch and learn, guys."

Billie shot me an amused look. "This is gonna be good."

"I think I know what you guys want-unless you don't mind sharing a meal," I teased, glancing at them with a smirk. "I haven't been to McDonald's in a long time, let alone with the three of you. So, what's the order before the speaker box starts talking?"

Tré Cool, always the first to jump in, raised a hand like we were in a classroom. "Ooh! I'll get a Quarter Pounder, a chocolate milkshake, and six chicken nuggets."

Mike leaned back against his seat, arms crossed. "Yeah, I'll get the same as Tré. And a Coke."

Billie tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, thinking for a second before grinning. "I'll get the same as you guys, but with a strawberry milkshake instead of chocolate-oh, and a fry."

I nodded, impressed. "Oh, nice choices. I'll have the chicken tenders with fries. Not sure if they have them here, but that's what I ordered last time. I hope they still do. Otherwise, I'll just be happy with nuggets."

Tré Cool spun around dramatically in his seat. "Damn, we're about to drop a whole paycheck on this order. Hope McDonald's appreciates our business."

Billie chuckled, adjusting his shades. "They should give us a VIP card at this point."

As we pulled up to the speaker, I suddenly felt the weight of the responsibility I had taken on. Doing the talking seemed fun a minute ago, but now, with three rock legends sitting beside me, I didn't want to mess up the order. The intercom crackled, and a slightly bored-sounding voice came through.