(Just a story about Johnny Rancid. Also, I remember reading in a fan fiction, can't remember which one, about the heart thing. And my mind happens to like that idea.)
Johnny Rancid didn't try to hide the fact that he didn't have a heart anymore.
Not in the emotional 'You're-an-ass-and-hate-everything' way, although he agreed with that as well.
He literally didn't have a heart. Check his pulse, no thud. Knock your hand on his chest, and it'll make a thunking noise. I mean, he didn't really care anymore. Even his body was a much cooler temperature than the average human.
But this is Johnny Rancid, he is not the average human.
By all these rules, he was dead. I mean, no heartbeat, he didn't need to breath, although it was an automatic thing now. Just to seem a bit more 'normal'.
The intellectual community agreed at well. When he was a kid and the nurse began shrieking because the child coming in for a check up didn't have a pulse, he was sent to what felt like millions of doctors and scientists. Why do you think he ran away from the damned foster homes? So they would have to pick him up again and not realize he's the same kid missing a heart. Hopefully.
And even Johnny thought he was dead physically, so he was dead emotionally as well. He knew few emotions other than anger and lust. And he felt those emotions very rarely.
But there was one time when Johnny forgot all this.
When he was riding his motorcycle. He felt adrenaline running through otherwise useless veins, he felt excited in a way no one had let him, and every now and then, he though he felt a heart beat. Just a quick flutter. But it was enough to prove his theory.
When Johnny rode his motorcycle, he felt alive. And even all the doctors, scientists, and people couldn't convince him otherwise.
(I'll admit it. I'm a motorcycle loving girl. My dad took me out on trips ever since I can remember, and I want my own when I turn 18. So yes, the fact I love riding did help me with this fic. Bye byes! Remember to review!)