I'm the Son of Rage and Love

Jesus had thoughts of skyscrapers in his head. He had drempt of making it big plenty of times before. He wanted to be rich and famous in the big city, Hollywood. He knew that dream would never come true, he had no talent. He would occasionally pluck away at his old guitar, but he was actually terrified at te thought of performing in front of anyone except himeself. Despite this, he didn't let that bring his hopes down.

He woke up to the the starry night gleaming down on him. The city lights shining on him, making it easier to see the dark night. He rubbed his head, remembering his dream. He dreamed of this dirty town he was stuck in burned down. Nothing was left of it, causing everyone to leave. People were looking left and right in search of their lost family members. There was a lost and found. One by one, people were grabbing things out of the bins. They all were people! Everyone found their family and went off together. Except Jesus's mom and Brad. They knew Jesus wasn't with them, and they didn't care. They walked off together, hand in hand, through the smoke left by the fire. When the people cleared out, the only person left in the burnt down town, was Jesus.

He wondered if he was actually missing his home. He wondered if his mom and Brad missed him. Probally not. They probally didn't even notice he left. The only way they might have, was because Brad was in search of his missing money, and quickly would blame Jesus. He brushed away his second thoughts and decided he should start his journey up again. When he got up, he brushed the creases of his pants out and pulled his shirt down a bit. He swung his bag over his right shoulder and began walking. He had no idea what time it was, but wasn't going to bother checking.

A few hours went by and Jesus noticed he was in a new town. Everything here looked just as shitty as the town he was trying to avoid. In the distance, he hear a loud chanting going on. He followed the noise and came to a club. Inside sounded like a large crowd shouting "SC! SC!" Jesus was confused and waked closer to get a better look. Along the windows of the club were flyers. Jesus grabbed a flyer and read it to himself: Suicide Commando! One night only! Jesus never heard of Suicide Commando, but decided to check it out.

The club was dark inside with little light. Every step Jesus would take, a person would walk into him. No sorry, just walked into him, and walked away. But Jesus just shrugged it off and kept walking. Jesus heard people here and there were talking about that night's band.

"I heard they were gonna break up after this show," a woman said standing near Jesus. The woman had a purple plaid skirt on with black fishnet stockings. Old, black Converse covered her feet. She had a Ramones shirt on. It looked like it had been through a war. It looked like there were more holes than actual fabric.

The man she was talking to took a long drag from his cigarette. "I heard Jimmy just got outta rehab. Almost over dosed three months ago."

The woman's eyes widened, "Shit, really?" The man just nodded his head and became disinterested in the conversation.

A group of people seemed to be forming a pit in front of a small stage. Jesus decided to stand on the edge of the circle and wait it out. He didn't know the band, so he didn't know how rough or not these people were going to be.

The show didn't even begin and people had the sour smell of sweat clinging to them.

A few moments later, the show began. An average height man walked onstage. His black and blue hair made him more noticable. Another man, sporting red hair, came onstage. He had a guitar in his hand; he gave it to the blue-haired guy. He slung the strap over his shoulder, checking to see in all strings were in tune. Two more men came out on stage. The green-haired man sat down on his drum stool. Before he sat down, though, he pulled his khaki shorts up a bit. A blonde-haired man set himself up with his bass. He seemed the most normal, but a bit quiet as well.

The guitar player took hold of the room, "How the fuck is everyone?"

The crowd went wild. Without a response, the music began. It was unlike anything Jesus had ever heard. The music was incredible. It sounded like the music actually had a meaning to it, emotions was pouring out of each note played. They sounded like they were playing for their pleasure, not the fame. Jesus enjoyed himself and went with the beat of the music, joining in on the circle of rowdy fans.

Suicide Commando's set ended and they walked off stage, and cheers filled the room. Jesus made his way out of the crowd and took a better look at the club. There was nothing really special about it. It was like any ordinary club. But there was something different about it. The people were his kind of people. They looked like they didn't give a fuck about anything. Standing in an unfamiliar club would usually make Jesus a bit uncomfortable, but it didn't this time. He felt at home here.

Jesus stepped outside to get some fresh air. He sat on a crate on the side of the alley. He stared at his shoes, wishing he had a pack of cigarettes with him. Jesus suddenly heard footsteps. It was the lead singer of Suicide Commando. He walked up to Jesus. When he came to Jesus's sitting crate, he took a seat on the ground next to Jesus.

This time, the blue-haired singer had a black jacket on. His jacket had many pockets and zippers on it. He opened one on his pockets and pulled out a cigarette. Noticing Jesus eyeing the cancer stick, he offered him one. Jesus instantly accepted the offer.

As Jesus lit up his cigarette, he felt eyes on him. "You're not from around here, are you?" He looked up to see the blue hair talking to him.

Jesus shook his head. "I thought so. You don't look familiar. What's your name?"

"Jesus. You?"

"Jesus? What the fuck kinda name is Jesus?" He said chuckling, "Like God's son Jesus?"

Even though it sounded insulting, Jesus laughed. "Yeah, Jesus is my name. I probally got that name 'cause my mom was most likely fucked up when she had me."

"Jesus.. Well Jesus, my name's Jimmy. And lemme tell you," he took a long drag out of his cigarette, "if you need anything, I've got it for ya. You need a helping hand, and I'll be your helping hand"

Jesus was a bit confused, "Like..?"

Jimmy inhaled the smoke of his cigarette. "Shit man. You need speed, I get'cha speed. You need acid, I get'cha acid. Get it?"

Jesus never really thought about using drugs. It always occured in his mind, but he never really thought about it. "Yeah man. I hear ya."

Jimmy smirked, "Good. Well man, I got to be going. Remember, you need anything lemme know."

"Wait, how do I find you?"

Jimmy got up and zipped up his jacket. He dropped his stub of cigarette on the ground and grinded in into the concrete with the sole of his shoe. He looked down at Jesus, who was still stitting down. "Don't worry, I'm everywhere. You never need to search for me."

Jesus watched Jimmy walk down the alleyway, disappearing into the darkness of the night.