Yoongi is seriously tired reaching through the railings but never getting what he wishes for, while life's liberty is teasingly just in front of him. That is until he decides to give away all of savings as well as belongings and bails out of his per...
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ACT 1 - And if they meet, what then?
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[PROLOGUE]
Somewhere in California. The image in front of him; perfectly typifying what you would think of when hearing "Route 66".
He is standing there, at the trunk of his father's car he stole to bring relieving meters between Fresno and himself. Behind him; so far away, the city's decalcomania of facades melding into a skyline.
With half of a cheeseburger - the other already stuffed eagerly in his mouth - money is being crammed into the sports bag by his free hand. Not only valuable paper can be found there but also chocolate bars. In the sun's setting light, he runs his fingers through the rebellious dyed strands of blue whereas his left cheek is thick being filled with melted cheese, rissole and the bun that originally held all of the ingredients together.
With a slight grin he turns back around, taking in the sight of his hometown one last time. Somewhere in Cali and fuck- he doesn't give any.
He then looks straight ahead and faces his new belonging; an Oldtimer Camaro that he arranged to be standing here for him to bail out of this personal prison. He stopped his father's clunker, leaving enough space between the Camaro so it won't suffer from what he is about to do next. Bringing the remains of the Fast Food between his teeth, he swings the sports bag over his shoulder. With another slight grin, he rummages in his leather jacket's pockets for a Zippo as well as a dollar bill of unknowing worth to him. Chewing lightly, he holds the bill up to his face and holds the ignited lighter dangerously close - well at least for everyone who could use a bit extra money at the moment - to the rolled up paper. The blue haired doesn't seem to care tho, indeed. His with the sight of the small flame now sparkling eyes are taking in it's every movement, while he sways the lit up money a bit until dropping it in the drunk from gasoline trunk, literally.
