Disclaimer: I don't own any of the American Idiot or Young Justice characters. They respectively belong to their creators. I'm just a weirdo on the Internet.


I was the only passenger. Well, the only one who got on. Already on the train were a group of rich business executives who all wore suits, a grandfather teaching this grandson about trains, a pastor and a few of his nuns worshiping god or something, and then, me. I found a spot in an empty compartment where I promptly dropped my stuff on the seat next to me, looked out the window, and put my earbuds in, Green Day ringing throughout my head.


Hours later, in the afternoon I'd say (I didn't have a watch and my iPod's clock was broken), the train came to a halt at a building. Everyone got off here, it was the Gothem and the end of the line, except for the boy and his grandpa, who were going to ride back home.

I looked around the platform, no one but the exiting passengers were present, but the place looked new, or built within the last few years, but barely used. I slung my bag over my shoulder and began walking out of the train yard, failing to hail a cab for at least twenty minutes before I decided to just walk.


About an hour later, I was sitting in the park, holding a sixth cup of coffee, and hopelessly and utterly lost. I was buzzed up on caffeine, my leg bouncing up and down like a jackhammer, and I'd been able to switch out my duffle bag for a backpack and looked like any old college student, except for the fact that I was 15, grinning like a maniac, and shivering a bit in my leather jacket. I'd found a scarf somewhere, crimson color, and hadn't taken it off since the moment I'd found it, adding a pair of aviators to my look too, because why the hell not.

The streetlights were turning on and it was getting darker, but I couldn't bring myself to move. The moment was peaceful and I just wanted it to stay that way. Plus, I wanted to finish my coffee. I closed my eyes for a second and when I opened them, a man in ragged clothing was sitting next to me.

"Good evening," he said in a high voice, one that shrieked like nails on a chalkboard.

I smiled, "And to you sir." There was a moment of silence.

"Do you know it's not safe in the park at night? There are dozens of murderers and thieves and crazies running around here, looking for prey," he screeched out.

I nodded, "And which category do you fit under?"

He looked at me with a grin that almost made me want to jump up and start sprinting away, "All of the above."

He was about to say more when I said, "Well, that's a wonderful accomplishment on your part, but I don't really care."

He was confused and distraught, "W-what?! Why not?! I'm the Joker for god's sake! Why aren't you running or screaming or at least afraid or ANYTHING?!"

"Apathy," I replied, taking a sip of coffee before I continued, "Well, I am tempted to just start yelling for Batman, or the cops, or someone just so you stop talking to me, but otherwise," I shrugged, "I don't really give a fuck."

His white painted face fell and he looked down, looking lost, "Well, that ruined my night. So what were you doing?"

"Just sitting and enjoying the silence."

He looked hurt for a second, "Harsh. Before I leave like you so obviously want me to, can I know your name? Because you're the only person I've ever found who isn't afraid of me?"

I looked him straight in the eye, "No, but you have a good night Jack." Then I stood up, smirking at his shocked expression, and walked away through the falling snow.

I'd been told every villain in Gothem's actual name by one guy I'd been selling drugs to, but he couldn't pay with money so he paid with secrets. I flipped my cardboard cup over and nothing came out. Great. Well, now that I was done with my coffee, I should go find a place to stay the night.