Lucky Sods

Chapter 1

A/N: so here's basically this. I have 4 more characters to introduce but idek if it's that good so comment what you think so far and if you like it :')
Sorry if I make any spelling or grammar error bc I wrote this very fast without checking because... *tries to think of a way to justify something stupid/careless I did* yolo.

P. S: No sTeALiNg 😤

Disclaimer: all of the references I make to bands and companies in this I don't own or have anything to with. all of the opinions expressed through the fictional characters are just their opinions.

It was a bright cloudy day and the birds were singing - but soon stooped because it was a hot day and it was easy to get dehydrated and tired.

Mina stood around staring at a non-existent watch which was supposedly on her wrist. Little did she know, not 4 other people but 8 we're hurtling towards her on public transport, bicycles and cars.

A slightly overweight boy - or could have been a man for being slightly chubby, made him look a little younger that he was - with a kind face and a ukulele in his hands which he was very skilled at playing, sat in the back of a Bentley nervously sweating. The only experience of performing live he had ever had was busking - and it hasn't gone too well. Now, if you're paying attention enough, your probably wondering why somebody riding in the back of a Bentley would need to busk - well, you see, despite his parents being very fortunate, (his mother being a professor working at a University and his father campaigning for gay animal rights which you don't earn much money from but the public seem to be interested in reading about lesbian albatrosses that stayed together for life) they believed he should fend for himself. He didn't say anything because he had a rather formal relationship with his mother and the only thing they had in common was that they'd both been screaming their heads off in hospital the day he was born.

Olivia ran her had through the beautiful long, flowing hair which was the colour of... Well, shit - but beautiful shit. Her bright eyes, her perfect nose, and her rosy lips were always catching the attention of boys and some girls. She sat on the bus with a rather neutral expression on her face, texting the bandmix™ groupchat to make sure she had got the right day.

A boy with messily painted nails, pasty skin and shoulder length hair who looked as if he was wearing a pair of curtains rushed through the train station desperately trying to find his train. He had a large guitar case (which most likely had a guitar in it - just a guess) on his back and a topaz satchel over his shoulder flying along behind him at the speed he was running. He kept accidentally bumping into people which was inevitable because of how much was carrying. After mumbling countless apologies to every single person he slightly nudged, he manged to squeeze onto his train just as the doors were about to close. He sat down on his seat; he silently sighed with relief. He glanced over at the person, sitting opposite him: he was sure that he recognised their face from somewhere but he just couldn't place where: they had dark blonde hair, a clean-shaven face and was dressed very smartly, they also, were carrying a topaz satchel - or actually, this one looked more like the colour of desert sand. They must have been about four years older than Mitchell - that was his name by the way. Mitchell kept glancing up him trying to think who this guy could be. Then he realised: He wasn't anyone interesting, (at least, to you or me he wasn't) he wasn't a celebrity or a long lost friend or relative - to be honest, Mitchell had simply seen him around town and appreciated his dashing looks. 🙃
Mitchell said that he wore only clothes he made (he was a textiles student) because he was making a political statement and detested how small children in third world countries were sent to work to make clothes out of cheap materials for nothing at all and that the clothes industry overall, was an absolute fucking mess. But for the most part, he just enjoyed wearing the clothes that he made himself. With a sound that sounds like a train starting, the train started. Mitchell looked in his satchel and tried to decide if he should read a manga or a book of sonnets. Despite looking very confident and extroverted, he was very shy and found it hard to communicate with large groups of people... Or just people in general for that matter! He took a deep breath as he decided on the book of sonnets he guessed the journey would take about fifteen minutes.