Judgement day *namjin*

1

The time is 7:23 and I’ve been awake all night. As usual.

I groggily, pull my ass out of bed and attempt to get ready to start the day. I shower, get changed, brush my teeth and put an apple in my bag so I can eat breakfast at school.

I don’t bother drying my hair because, well, I just can’t be bothered. Getting ready in the morning is enough hassle without having to spend an extra 5 or 10 minutes blow-drying my hair.
So here I am, unlocking the door to my shitty 2 bedroom apartment that is slowly falling to pieces. I walk outside with my black Superdry bag draped over my left shoulder, lock the door, and lean my back against the wall.

Grey clouds form above me making me glad I hadn’t tried to dry my hair. The chill in the air however, is getting to me, so eagerly, I reach into the back pocket of my navy blue, denim jeans and pull out a packet of cigarettes. I cant remember when I first started smoking. It doesn’t really matter. what does matter is that I’ve become practically obsessed with this poison I have allowed to enter my lungs. Now-a-days, its the only air I enjoy breathing it seems to warm me up, even in weather like this. Maybe the radiation is having that effect but either way. It works.

As I breathe in the last of this devil’s breath, a black kia sportage pulls up on the side of the street in front of me. Yoongi’s here.
He beeps his car horn as a signal for me to get in. Here we go again.

--

A few minutes in the drive and I can tell that it’s gonna be another awkward journey.
“so...how are you?” he enquires, not taking his eyes off the road.
I always get this with him now. This silence. This coldness.
I roll my sleep deprived eyes and respond the only way I know how,
“usual”
Yoongi takes in a deep breath,
“you’ve been saying that for the past 12 years...”
To refrain from going too far, I bite the inside of my cheek, and say nothing. The car is silent for a while after that. Nothing much has changed.

--

10 minutes had passed and the tense atmosphere was driving me mad. So I decided to attempt a conversation with my poor lost friend.
“what about you?”
He laughs nervously and holds the steering wheel tight with both hands.
“still see him-
He lets go of the wheel with one of his hands and taps the side of his head.
“up here, ya know.”

I lower my head and nod understandingly
“its ok to feel sad you know-
“DONT start that shit with me—please, I’ve had enough from my therapist and I don’t want you to start that too, I’m sorry but that’s the last thing I need.”
Yoongi then wipes tears that threaten to escape his eyes.
“he was a good guy Yoongs...”
“I know that. I fucking know that.”
He then wipes his nose with his dark green, jumper sleeve and indicates to turn right.
“out of all of us, why Hobi?”
His question seriously stumped me. I honestly didn’t know how to respond. I lighly tapped his shoulder and tried to sound as sincere as possible
“I guess it was just his time.”

He shrugs my hand away and stares dead eyed, straight ahead. A slight smirk then forms on his face.
“when’s it our time then huh?” he says while nudging my arm with his elbow, sniffing as he did so.
I chuckle slightly in response trying to lighten the mood.
“I don’t know. Surely seems to be taking its time with us.”
Yoongi scoffs.
“Jesus, you’re terrible.”
After that, we spend the rest of the drive making terrible puns about our lives and struggles. I guess its the only way we cope now. The only way any of us cope.

Author's note: sorry. I dont know what this is.