The Shy Saint Jimmy (Greenday FanFiction)

You take Billie by the hand and lead him toward the living room in the bus, the sound of the band mates chatting faintly in the background. As Billie joins them, you move to prepare the coffee refills. The band members turn to you as you enter, their eyes flicking back and forth between you and Billie. It's clear they notice something has changed, but they can't quite pinpoint what it is.

Mike, lounging casually in his chair, eyes the two of you with a knowing smirk.

"Not much, just hanging out. Waiting to see if you two would resurface," he says, his eyebrows raising suggestively.

"We're fine, guys, don't stress. Alright, who wants refills?" you respond, brushing off the attention.

Mike raises his hand with a sly smile.

"I'll take a refill. Thanks, doll."

Tré, who's been lounging on the couch with his laptop, looks up, giving a lazy stretch.

"Yeah, me too. Black coffee, no sugar," he says before returning his gaze to the screen.

As you prepare their coffees, the bandmates start to call out their orders, and it dawns on you that you're the appointed barista for the next few minutes.

Once the drinks are ready, you bring them over to the group. As they sip the fresh brew, you ask about the mini gig they'd mentioned earlier.

Mike, nodding in appreciation for his coffee, gives a casual shrug.

"Yeah, why not? It's been a while since we had some jams back here. Could be fun."

Tré, grinning, adds, "Plus, it'll be a good way to blow off some steam. And maybe we can get Billie to sing a bit. He's been keeping that voice locked up too long."

You smile, grabbing your black-and-white Stratocaster and strumming a few chords. The mini drum kit is set up, and Mike's bass guitar is ready. The bus, although small, is just big enough for a mini gig. You can't help but feel a sense of happiness at the sight, amused by how easily the cramped space has transformed into a makeshift venue.

The band members exchange grins, clearly excited by your reaction. Seeing your enthusiasm and the anticipation on your face, they can't help but feel energized too.

You begin to strum a few random notes, testing the guitar, before Mike teases you.

"You like it? It's not a fancy concert hall, but it's pretty cozy, right?"

Tré chimes in, his voice playful.

"Now all we need is for our lead singer to get in the mood. Hey, Billie Joe! Quit lazing around and get your ass up. We've got a mini gig to play."

The band smiles, curious to see what you have in mind. As you start strumming more, they settle into their seats, all eyes on you. The tension is thick with anticipation, and you can feel the energy building.

Mike nods toward you.

"Alright, doll. Let's hear what you got. We're all ears."

Eventually, you begin playing the iconic intro to Sweet Child O' Mine. The familiar notes fill the air, and the band members' faces light up with recognition.

The atmosphere in the bus shifts; it's as if the world around you fades away, leaving only the music. The band members focus on their instruments, each note syncing with the others seamlessly.

Mike lets out a whistle.

"Damn, doll, you've got some serious skills on that guitar. Just like the great Slash himself."