UGH! / SOPE & VMIN.

TWENTY FOUR, OLD BUT FAMILIAR FACES.

OLD BUT
FAMILIAR FACES.

   IT'S A DINGY, dark and typical london day when the heaven's devils, plus yoongi and maxxie, pile into angel's mate's borrowed big black northern tranny ( that's a black ford transit van to you and me ), equipment and all, the seats ripped out in the back so seokjin gets shotgun and angel drives and the rest of them gotta sit cramped up with two amps and a drum kit, no regards for safety.

"le's hope we don't see no bobby blues," angel comments as he starts up the road, a map laid out on the dashboard and a rock tape playing lowly from his stereo. the rain hits the windscreen with all the insistency of a postman knocking on a door, the window wipers trying to fight it off. "y'alright back there ladies?"

he looks over his shoulder at the rest of the group, all of them tired from the early 8AM start. hoseok grunts, trying to light a cigarette with a shit lighter, grumbling a few choice words when it fails. jeongguk lights it for him wordlessly, before retreating back into his hooded sweatshirt like a turtle into his shell. maxxie's new bleach blonde hair is a stark and bright addition to the dark guts of the van, head resting against the wall as he slowly falls back asleep. yoongi sits on one of the wheel humps beside hoseok, his hair freely curling around his face, and he gives angel a curt smile.

hoseok is well excited for today. they'll get to punk rocky at around nine if angel doesn't fuck up the drive, and their set starts at twelve, so they'll have time to set up, do a sound check, and watch some other bands, perhaps even the one that angel's mate's girlfriend is in, some punk girl band who sound pretty cool. he fucking loves festivals, gets himself up to glastonbury whenever he can; if there's any party, small or big, hoseok's bound to be there — and he's sure to be the biggest twat there as well ( it's a trademark, he's gotta keep it up now ).

"you okay, jin?" jeongguk asks the oldest of them, who's sporting fading, but still nasty, bruises on his eyes, beneath his lips and on his cheeks, as well as on the rest of his body. the bassist nods, coughing a bit; his cracked ribs been giving him jip¹ for a good while, and his bruised chest has gotta hurt.

"i'm alright, gguk, don't you worry," seokjin replies, leaning his head against the window. "bet you're looking forward to today, ey hoseok?"

hoseok smiles softly. seeing seokjin like this, even if he's dressed up a bit for the festival, makes him sad; he does love seokjin like a brother, deep down inside, never having a lot of love for his real family. he's got a home in seokjin, the way he hopes jeongguk has in him, as they all helped each other when they fell into this big, complicated urban jungle of london. "yeah i am, mate. hope you can enjoy it too."

the van jostles as angel roughly turns a corner, swearing in irish in such a way that it sounds like he's about to sing them a song, jeongguk's lips quirking up at the words. yoongi is moved by the sudden action, and falls into hoseok's lap, all due to lack of seatbelts. he knocks the air out of hoseok, who coughs but secures his arms around yoongi's waist nonetheless.

"alright there love?" he asks, his tone the same as a bloke trying to pull a bird in a pub, and yoongi scoffs, elbowing him in the ribs.

"who's got a fag?" yoongi asks the van, ignoring hoseok, but he's not moving. angel tosses him a pack of camels, and he lights it easily with a match, moving so he can sit comfortably on hoseok, who isn't at all discontented by the boy on his lap. yoongi's wearing a leather jacket over a greying and ripped white shirt, and loose checkered chef's trousers cover his legs; he looks good, his hair falling prettily in his eyes, which are lined with a smudged black kohl, giving him this rockstar appearance, and yeah, it's takin' everything in hoseok not to ravage him right there.

the drive ends too quickly, hoseok thinks when yoongi clambers off his lap lazily, angel having parked the van at the festival. they were welcomed by a garish red and black sign reading 'give yourself over to absolute pleasure!', the festival's name written in dripping red letters; there's music playing loudly from somewhere, and it smells like fried food and weed and that special smell of a big field after rain, and hoseok takes it all in.