A Rock Opera.
St Jimmy
I barely got any sleep that night. Constant thoughts spinning around in my head; the uncomfortable zippers from my clothes sticking into me as I desperately hoped for sleep...
I stood up and packed up my things. It was about seven in the morning, with early-morning commuters making their way to work. Clutching my twenty dollar note tightly and carrying my bag, I unlocked the door and stepped out into the street, not looking where I was going, and evidently bumping into someone.
"Hey! Watch it!" the guy yelped, spilling the cheap paper mug of coffee he was holding.
"Shit man!" I gasped, wincing as I felt the hot coffee scald my hand. I looked up and saw a pair of bright hazel eyes looking back at me.
"Fuck. It's OK," he muttered, picking up the cup and chucking it across the road.
I nodded slowly, unable to move. The guy looked to be about my age. He had a taller frame, and wore tight black jeans and red Converse. His mop of hair was close to black, with a bright red streak clashing brilliantly with his eyes. I noticed a stud piercing on his eyebrow, a small tattoo on his hand and eyeliner surrounding his eyes. A studded band was worn around his wrist, matching his belt. His face was long and thin, as was the rest of his body.
To put it shortly, he seemed like my type.
"Uh - what?" he asked, noticing my close observation of him.
"I'm Jimmy," he stated. No handshake, just a brief introduction.
"I'm Ryan," I replied. "Except don't call me that. Call me Jesus."
"Ah...OK." He gave me a strange look and began to keep walking. I immediately followed, feeling like a sheep lost in the rain.
"So did you sleep in that shed?" he asked, not taking his eyes off something in the distance.
"Yeah. I left my shithole of a town, and I had nowhere to stay." I liked this guy already. He told it like it was - unlike every person I had ever met.
"Lemme guess...ran away from your parents?"
"Yeah. Fucking losers."
"Mine died." He continued looking up ahead.
"Oh - I'm sorry," I said awkwardly.
"Nah. Don't be. Car crash - I was 12. I got dumped in an orphanage, but they couldn't control me." He laughed. "Stupid fuckers. I was too much trouble for 'em. Kept escaping."
I smiled. "So you don't go to school?"
"School? They can't teach me what to do. I have my own mind. I down need to be brainwashed! How old are you?"
"Sixteen in a few weeks. You?"
"Sixteen."
"Where do you hang out?" I asked. Jimmy had a certain air about him. One of a 'fuck-you-all-'cause-I-can-do-what-I-want' attitude. But he wasn't all serious either. Already I felt as though I knew him.
"I live in a warehouse type thing - but I'm usually too pissed to acknowledge my surroundings." He grinned. I noticed we reached a main road again. "Wanna join me?"
"Sure," I said. This guy could be a serial killer and I didn't know it - but I couldn't give a fuck either. I continued walking with Jimmy, and got to know a little more about him.
We soon arrived outside a midsized tine warehouse. From the outside, it looked like a real dump. Jimmy slid open the door, revealing what looked like a palace to me inside. A huge rug had been spread across the floor. A cheap bunkbed was on the other side, covered with musty old blankets.
"Nice," I said appreciatively, dumping my bag on the floor and walking around. "Have any raging parties? You could fit a whole fucking town in here."
"Pfft. Only if there were decent hookers would I go," he said offhandedly.
"So what do you do for fun?" I asked, finding a small pile of beer cans hidden in the corner.
"Steal money, laugh at randoms, get tattoos. Either way, just doing random shit. Ah, if only my parents could see me now." He gave a hollow laugh, and pulled out a packet of cigarettes from his pocket. "Don't mind if I smoke, do you?"
"No. Actually, can I have one?"
"sure," he said while lighting his. He chucked the packet of ciagrettes and matches to me before flopping down on his bed.
"Ah," he said peacefully, closing his eyes for a few minutes.
I held back a cough while I inhaled deeply. It hurt my throat initially, before pure pleasure flowed through my limbs. I suddenly felt high above the ground as if I was floating...very high...
"You didn't tell me this was pot," I said, breathing in deeply anyway.
Jimmy laughed and got up, aimlessly wandering over to his fridge.
"Fuck! We're outta beer," he groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Well, we're going to the club tonight anyway, so I spose I'll have to last a few hours."
"Club?"
"Yeah. Good fun. Good alcohol."
"How do you get in?" I asked out of curiosity.
"Well, its not exactly legal, I guess," Jimmy said with a sly grin. "But hell, who cares? We'll go tonight, alright? Trust me, its fine."
I took Jimmy's word for it.
I stood up and packed up my things. It was about seven in the morning, with early-morning commuters making their way to work. Clutching my twenty dollar note tightly and carrying my bag, I unlocked the door and stepped out into the street, not looking where I was going, and evidently bumping into someone.
"Hey! Watch it!" the guy yelped, spilling the cheap paper mug of coffee he was holding.
"Shit man!" I gasped, wincing as I felt the hot coffee scald my hand. I looked up and saw a pair of bright hazel eyes looking back at me.
"Fuck. It's OK," he muttered, picking up the cup and chucking it across the road.
I nodded slowly, unable to move. The guy looked to be about my age. He had a taller frame, and wore tight black jeans and red Converse. His mop of hair was close to black, with a bright red streak clashing brilliantly with his eyes. I noticed a stud piercing on his eyebrow, a small tattoo on his hand and eyeliner surrounding his eyes. A studded band was worn around his wrist, matching his belt. His face was long and thin, as was the rest of his body.
To put it shortly, he seemed like my type.
"Uh - what?" he asked, noticing my close observation of him.
"I'm Jimmy," he stated. No handshake, just a brief introduction.
"I'm Ryan," I replied. "Except don't call me that. Call me Jesus."
"Ah...OK." He gave me a strange look and began to keep walking. I immediately followed, feeling like a sheep lost in the rain.
"So did you sleep in that shed?" he asked, not taking his eyes off something in the distance.
"Yeah. I left my shithole of a town, and I had nowhere to stay." I liked this guy already. He told it like it was - unlike every person I had ever met.
"Lemme guess...ran away from your parents?"
"Yeah. Fucking losers."
"Mine died." He continued looking up ahead.
"Oh - I'm sorry," I said awkwardly.
"Nah. Don't be. Car crash - I was 12. I got dumped in an orphanage, but they couldn't control me." He laughed. "Stupid fuckers. I was too much trouble for 'em. Kept escaping."
I smiled. "So you don't go to school?"
"School? They can't teach me what to do. I have my own mind. I down need to be brainwashed! How old are you?"
"Sixteen in a few weeks. You?"
"Sixteen."
"Where do you hang out?" I asked. Jimmy had a certain air about him. One of a 'fuck-you-all-'cause-I-can-do-what-I-want' attitude. But he wasn't all serious either. Already I felt as though I knew him.
"I live in a warehouse type thing - but I'm usually too pissed to acknowledge my surroundings." He grinned. I noticed we reached a main road again. "Wanna join me?"
"Sure," I said. This guy could be a serial killer and I didn't know it - but I couldn't give a fuck either. I continued walking with Jimmy, and got to know a little more about him.
We soon arrived outside a midsized tine warehouse. From the outside, it looked like a real dump. Jimmy slid open the door, revealing what looked like a palace to me inside. A huge rug had been spread across the floor. A cheap bunkbed was on the other side, covered with musty old blankets.
"Nice," I said appreciatively, dumping my bag on the floor and walking around. "Have any raging parties? You could fit a whole fucking town in here."
"Pfft. Only if there were decent hookers would I go," he said offhandedly.
"So what do you do for fun?" I asked, finding a small pile of beer cans hidden in the corner.
"Steal money, laugh at randoms, get tattoos. Either way, just doing random shit. Ah, if only my parents could see me now." He gave a hollow laugh, and pulled out a packet of cigarettes from his pocket. "Don't mind if I smoke, do you?"
"No. Actually, can I have one?"
"sure," he said while lighting his. He chucked the packet of ciagrettes and matches to me before flopping down on his bed.
"Ah," he said peacefully, closing his eyes for a few minutes.
I held back a cough while I inhaled deeply. It hurt my throat initially, before pure pleasure flowed through my limbs. I suddenly felt high above the ground as if I was floating...very high...
"You didn't tell me this was pot," I said, breathing in deeply anyway.
Jimmy laughed and got up, aimlessly wandering over to his fridge.
"Fuck! We're outta beer," he groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Well, we're going to the club tonight anyway, so I spose I'll have to last a few hours."
"Club?"
"Yeah. Good fun. Good alcohol."
"How do you get in?" I asked out of curiosity.
"Well, its not exactly legal, I guess," Jimmy said with a sly grin. "But hell, who cares? We'll go tonight, alright? Trust me, its fine."
I took Jimmy's word for it.