Green Days: American Idiot, the Full Story

Boulevard Of Broken Dreams

Part 4: Boulevard of Broken Dreams.

Rays from the early morning sun showed brightly through the burgular-barred windows of the Oakland bar. Jesus was awoken by an abrupt push on the shoulder.

"Ya better get going. Bar's closin' up," said a partially annoyed bar keep.

"Huh? What time is it?" questioned a groggy and fairly hungover Jesus.

"Quarter till eight."

"I'll just find my friend and..."

"There's no one else here. 'Cept for me and you, of course."

"What? No, Tunny said I'd have a place to stay with him."

"Look, he stood you up. Sucks, but shit like that happens. You from a small town?"

Jesus thought it was a strange question to ask but answered truthfully anyway.

"Yeah, Rodeo."

"Well, welcome to the big city."

Jesus sighed, grabbed his hoodie, and left the bar. The bar keep was right. How could he be so naïve to think that Tunny would actually give him a place to stay?

He felt so used as he turned a corner and walked down the street.

It was a particularly cold morning, so he clutched his jacket to keep warm and kept on walking. He dug in his pockets. All his fingers grasped was lint. Great, thought Jesus,I have no money. No matter how much you hate to admit it, money does, in fact, make the world go 'round.

This startling realization made his heart's pace quicken. No money, no job, no shelter, no friends. Thankfully he still had his car.

He got inside the old rust bucket and put the key in the ignition. He waited for the familiar rumble of the vehicle's engine. It never came.

He screamed in frustration. After repeatedly ramming his head into the steering wheel, he grabbed his keys, slammed the door, and kicked the hubcap a few times.

Seeing there was no point in crying over spilled milk, or in his case, poor character judgement, he left his rust bucket behind.

If you have ever walked aroung a big city by yourself, then you know the sounds. Sirens, screams, cars, pollution: all filling the silence in between as Jesus kept walking.

It was a lonely road, no passersby, no traffic, not even a homeless person. Just Jesus and the familiar sound of his heartbeat.

The darkness of the night sky seeped in, and Jesus shuddered, trying to bear the cold. Desperately trying to will away the urge his teeth had to chatter.

Eventually even the average hustle and bustle of the city had faded away. Places closed up shop, people left work for their warm, cozy beds, leaving behing behind empty streets. The city had fallen asleep and Jesus' worries rushed back.

He still needed a place to stay, food to eat, roof over head, or at least a place to call his own. A back porch light turned on, illuminating the cramped, dark alleyway a few feet ahead of Jesus.

Maybe they could help him?

The hint of a new hope and a hopefully brighter tomorrow cheered up Jesus considerably, and he picked up his pace. He left behind his only roadside companion, his shadow, and the only sound that kept him sane, his heartbeat.

He doesn't want to be alone, no one does, and if there was a possibilty of someone finding him, Jesus wasn't going to miss that chance.