Heart Doesn't Beat the Same [St. Jimmy/Reader]

Chapter One

Note: Based off of "City of the Damned" written by Billie Joe Armstrong for Green Day. Requested by Creepyschoolgirl on deviantART.

[At the center of the Earth in the parking lot of the 7-Eleven where I was taught/The motto was just a lie/It says "Home is where the heart is" but what a shame 'cause everyone's heart doesn't beat the same/It's beating out of time]

You didn't usually tell the rest of your household where you were going when you headed out, so when you notified your family that you were going to the nearest convenience store you half-suspected they would be at least a tiny bit curious.

"Why are you telling me? You're not planning on doing anything illegal, are you?"

"No. You want anything?"

"Just bring back a six pack."

"Of what?"

"Anything."

"'Kay."

The door slammed shut and you stepped off the porch, wondering if any of them were aware there was no way you were bold enough to ask someone twenty one or older to buy liquor for you, or even if "anything" meant "alcohol". Realizing that no one handed you money, you decided to buy the cheapest available soda.

Earlier that week, Jimmy asked you if you wanted to hang out at one of his favorite haunts. What did the the majority of 7-Eleven's parking lot regulars look like? Edgy middle class teens and twenty-somethings who were enamoured with countercultures from the past couple of decades, most likely. You wondered if anyone would mistake you and him for a couple.

"What are you smiling for?"

Glancing to your right, you saw Jimmy cut through someone's lawn.

Your existence, you thought.

"Nothing, I was just thinking about what kind of soda I was going to bring back."

"What kind do you want?"

"It's not for me. It's for my family."

"How much are you planning on getting?"

"I was instructed to get a six pack."

He gave you a vexed look, but you didn't feel like he was annoyed at you.

"What's the cheapest kind they have?"

"Why are you asking me?" he questioned, snorting a little. "We're just outside." He looked thoughtful. "Usually. Sometimes I grab a bag of chips or something."

"By 'grab', do you mean...?"

"Why would I shoplift? I literally hang out there all the ti-" he cut you off, before cutting himself off when he noticed your expression.

And you never invited me before 'cause...?

"I invited you here because we're 'besties'-" You grimaced, remembering the term his last girlfriend

What's his new name for her? "Whatsername", no astrophe, no hyphens.

used. Her dislike was clear and she made passive-aggressive comments directed towards you in front of him. Even back at the beginning of their brief period of going steady, he made sure you two were never alone together.

Her abuse had just gotten worse after an incident where Jimmy's need to pee was overshadowed by his fear of you two unleashing your inner betta.

"I'll just let my juice loose over here," he declared, lining up by the edge of the overpass.

"Here?" sputtered Ol' Whatsername.

You were caught so off guard Jimmy managed to zip his fly all the way down before you looked away and accidentally established eye contact with her. Her lips pursed while your mouth just involuntarily opened and closed, like a fish.

"-but we mostly hang out at school. You don't even like my house parties, you antisocial bitch."

It was your turn to snort. It wasn't that you didn't like going over to his house (he told you his mother was much kinder when you were around). It was that you really weren't like his other friends. It wasn't special snowflake syndrome, you just didn't find it easy to relate to his associates, the... neo-punks. And it wasn't like you could just chill in the lavatory until playtime was over.

"Sid Vicious-wannabe bastard," you playfully fired back. He ran his hand through his hair.

"You've been a single for a while, haven't you?"

For a split second, you were so aware of his being next to you, his breathing... that you almost tripped over your own feet until you were conscious of his footsteps.

"There's, a reason for that."

"Maybe you'll meet someone you'll like."

I already have someone I more-than-like, you thought, feeling exasperated. This was the first time he'd ever brought up anything like this.

"You're... Playing matchmaker?"

"[name] needs to get laid", you could imagine him thinking.

"Have anyone in mind?" you continued.

Jimmy looked down at the pavement. "Nah. Actually, a lot of guys there are jerks.

"Forget I said anything."
***
Even though you were wearing an outfit you specifically chose to feel comfortable in, you knew you were standing out. You knew your proximity to Jimmy was too close. Your heart was beating so hard you had a brief vision of it exploding out your chest.

"Why aren't you blinking?" Jimmy whispered, not quietly enough. You tried to lose awareness of your now rapidly fluttering eyelids.

"Here, hold onto my cigs," he said a little louder, laying the box in your upturned palm.

You involuntarily swallowed, taking note of how dry your mouth was.

Get sip of water, go to ladies' room, purchase soda, your mind urgently spat out as a pretty bottle redhead strolled up to you. Perfect way to excuse yourself.

"Jimmy," she breathed. You winced.

[City of the dead/At the end of another lost highway/Signs misleading to nowhere/City of the damned/Lost children with dirty faces today/No one really seems to care]

Instead of immediately going in by yourself, you hung outside, leaning against the window...trying to look carefree and not surly at all...while your best friend and a girl who looked like an alt. model ducked inside, "for a bit".

"Do you mind if I steal him for a bit?" she'd asked you, immediately after the brief introduction. You smiled with the utmost benevolence, nodding.

Why not? Ol' Whatsername decided to "steal him for a bit" too, and that turned out okay for me in the end.