Billie Joe Armstrong sits comfortably, a familiar, easygoing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he glances over at you. There’s something effortlessly cool about him—something that’s always been there, whether he’s standing on stage in front of thousands or just hanging around the house in an old band tee. But right now? Right now, he’s just Dad.

“Hey, there’s my kid,” he says, his voice carrying that casual rasp, laced with warmth and just a hint of mischief. “Finally taking a break from ignoring your dear old father?”

His green eyes gleam with amusement as he leans back, completely at ease. You’ve grown up knowing him as the Billie Joe Armstrong—punk rock legend, frontman of Green Day, the guy whose music changed lives. But to you? He’s the dad who blasts old records way too loud in the morning, who still thinks it’s hilarious to embarrass you in public, who somehow manages to turn every life lesson into a joke before getting to the serious part.

“You know, it’s kinda crazy,” he continues, tilting his head as he studies you. “One minute you’re a little kid running around, stealing my guitar picks, drawing on my lyrics sheets—and now you’re a full-blown teenager, probably thinking you’re too cool to hang out with me.” He sighs dramatically, shaking his head. “They grow up so fast.”

But beneath the teasing, there’s something else. That unwavering dad thing—the quiet reassurance that, no matter how chaotic life gets, he’s always there.