The sound of a phone ringing woke him up and it took him a few minutes to figure out that it was actually in his dream and not reality.

As with most mornings Yoongi awoke with a sudden jerk that made him roll off the settee. In the process he not only smacked his head on the flooring, which wasn't even hardwood and rather just plain concrete, but he also managed to slam his elbow hard on the broken coffee table. Before he could even open his eyes fully he heard the loud thud of the contents sliding off to hit the floor and he knew one thing.

He had finally broken the goddamn table.

For a few minutes he didn't want to move, to open his eyes or even breathe if it was possible. He knew that if he did he would catch sight of the time on the clock across the room and he would see that not even an hour had passed since he had been able to drift off. He would much rather pretend that it had been an entire day even when he knew that he was lying to himself. He could still hear the faintest sound of a telephone in his ears, a blaring rather than a ringing noise, much like a high-pitched siren that got right under his skin and set his teeth on edge. What had he been dreaming about? No matter how hard he tried to think about it he couldn't seem to figure it out. Dream or nightmare? Nothing but blackness punctuated by the noise of the stupid phone? If a phone was ringing then it was a nightmare, that much I fucking know... Yoongi sighed heavily and finally opened his eyes slightly, peering up at the ceiling and seeing that the room was well lit; morning sun coming in through the window behind him. It looked bright and he could picture the sky outside devoid of clouds, a vivid blue in which the sun would hang overhead all day long. No threat of rain at all, not with the summer just now in full bloom. Where were the others right now? What were they doing? They had probably gotten everything ready hours ago and yet here he was: not even dressed and without a bag packed. What had he been doing during the early morning hours since he had gotten back home? Well...

Yoongi turned his head slowly to observe the sight beside him. The coffee table had always been broken since he had owned it, but his thrifty trick had kept it stable for quite some time. Yes, a hard knock usually made most of the contents fall off because it was rickety, but it still kept standing in sheer defiance of any stubborn slams from his shins or boots. He would just need to right it once more and stack everything back onto the top, yet not this time. This time the poor coffee table was well and truly dead. The left leg in front of him, the one he had wrapped twine around several times tightly, was no longer wobbly but otherwise stable and straight, instead it was now on such a crooked angle that he could see a snap clean through the wood, no doubt from where his flailing elbow had struck it a moment ago. He could see jagged little edges sticking out, lighter wood visible under the dark coating revealed like teeth behind lips in a smile, and when he reached up to touch one of them he had to pull his finger away for fear of a nasty splinter. The lengths of twine that had been wound around the other legs securely was now hanging loose, not straight like a ruler but rather drooping like a hammock. It might be able to be repaired someone but right now he didn't have time for that. He didn't even have time to move the shit that had fallen off it anywhere else. He was counting himself rather lucky that none of it had landed on him, or more specifically on his head. The near mountain of newspapers and wrappers, food containers and cans, had spread across the floor but he could see the telephone directory just a few inches away from the tip of his nose, having fallen to land open on the floor, pages bent under its weight and spine folded inwards slightly. Had that landed on his head then there would have been two outcomes: a crushed and gushing nose, or he'd have been knocked unconscious, which right now sounded rather preferable to being awake.

There was an open, half-empty packet of cigarettes by him so he reached over to retrieve them, thumbing the top to check the contents: eleven little filtered sticks in two neat rows. Yoongi lifted the packet to his mouth and pulled one free using his teeth before tossing the packet onto the settee and shoving his hand into his jeans pocket to get his lighter. He sat up slowly and held the flickering flame to the end of the cigarette, taking a quick drag as the tip smouldered to help it alight and breathing the smoke out his nose as he did. He flicked the lighter close again with a quick flick of his wrist and then took a deep pull on the cigarette, holding it in his lungs as he reached up and got the stick between his middle and ring finger. He was in the act of blowing the smoke out of the corner of his mouth when he caught sight of black wires snaking along the floor and he stared at the sight across the room dumbly, cigarette hovering in front of his slightly pursed lips.

The shattered remains of his telephone lying all over the floor.

Yoongi lowered the cigarette slowly as he ran his eyes over the device. He could see a gaping hole in the back where the receiver should have been plugged in. He located it a few feet away, or most of it anyway. It was no longer looked like it had yesterday and it barely even resembled a phone anymore. The receiver should have been a rectangle of plastic with rounded curves connected to the cradle by a kinked black wire, but now it was nothing more than half a chunk of plastic attached to the wire, metal and chips inside visible, the rest of it scattered across the floor in large shards. One such piece was just by his boot and looking at it reminded him of the bandanna on Jimin's arm, Namjoon's lucky bandanna covering a gash in his elbow from a sliver of glass that he had landed on and gotten stuck in his skin. The cradle was on the floor rather than the little table by the TV it was usually on and it wasn't even plugged into the wall either; no flashing lights to alert him of missed messages. Black plastic cradle shattered in several places, a deep enough chunk missing in the top so that the rubber keypad was on the floor rather than inside of it. He couldn't take his eyes off the piece of white rubber for some reason and it was only a chunk of ash falling onto his jeans that brought him back to reality.

"Shit..." He brushed it off roughly with his other hand and saw that it had actually burnt a slight hole through the fabric, enough so that he could stick his little finger through it. The edges were stained black from the ash and his skin looked rather pink through the hole. Yoongi lifted the cigarette and took a drag on it before looking back at the phone. It looked like it had exploded and he knew that was not the case. It had not exploded at all but rather he had, and his anger had resulted in the device being broken to nothing but chunks of plastic and torn out wires. He was lucky that that was all that he had broken in the moment and rather not the TV too. Well, if he ignored the destroyed table just beside him that was. He closed his eyes as he reached up to rub at his brow as he sighed under his breath again. He felt like he was getting a headache and that would just make everything even better. He spent a minute or two just sitting there with his eyes closed and then he turned to look at the clock. 10:30am. Three and a half hours of sleep. That was nearly the amount he had gotten over the last week and it was better than nothing, even when he felt terrible.

What would Ara be thinking now, now that he hadn't called or showed up for his cleaning shift that he had practically begged for? Had she and the others tried calling him only to get a dead line? Nothing but a droning noise in the receiver like a flurry of bees until they put it back in the cradle...or smashed it to shit just like he had?

Yoongi took a pull on the end of the stick and thought about what had happened last night, the meeting in the trainyard that had went into the early morning hours. He had been thinking of going back shortly after leaving the house because he had thought it rather childish to go running off like that. A couple of years ago he would have raced there without a care but that was not now. Back in high school he had had both the energy and the time for such things, would have ran there on foot just because of the others, but now he could barely talk himself into doing it. Too many shifts, no spare time, too tired physically and mentally to travel half of the city, there were just too many things stopping him from being able to meet them. But then he had thought of them all and what they were also going through and he had forced himself to go to the trainyard, pedaling his bike a little faster. Taehyung, who was on the streets more often than not when he wasn't holed up in some shitty hostel room that he rented with cash saved up from selling stolen goods; Jimin who needed time away from his useless father just so he could breathe without risking a slap across the back of the head; Jungkook who liked to run away every now and again and was always out looking for trouble of some kind; Namjoon squirreling away money to try and keep their combined dream alive; Seokjin and college and all of the hell it brought with it, and Hoseok...

"The enigma," he muttered as he flicked ash on the coffee table mountain, breathing a plume out of his mouth as he did so. What exactly was going on with the boy? He at least had an idea about the rest of them but not him, he was still figuring him out. He knew that it wasn't just the entrance exams that were affecting him, not at all. There were certainly more things going on with him and it wasn't very easy to ascertain. He used to be talkative but not that much anymore, just like he didn't seem to have the old energy he used to possess, and the sudden change of disposition was almost frighteningly obvious; another person entirely. Yoongi thought about how Taehyung had spoken about going on an adventure before it got too late: "before we all start changing and drifting apart like everyone else, before we start to grow up," he had said and his wide eyed expression had been believable enough; perfect amounts of horror and yet resigned belief.

The boy was right. They were already starting to change and before the end of the year... The kids would stick together of course, and Hoseok might hang around for another year or two of college until he found his own clique. He and Namjoon had a partnership going and Seokjin always made sure to call every few days. It was only natural that it happen and yet he didn't want anything like that happening just yet. If left without guidance the kids would end up on the wrong road. Taehyung was already well on his way there, high school dropout runaway with nothing but the clothes on his back and a head packed full of stupid ideas, and Jungkook was getting there too. If left with them both Jimin would fuck up his only chance at a decent future; the boy really needed the graduation to his name and he couldn't afford to fuck it up.

Yoongi was so into his thoughts that it took him a moment to realise that there wasn't much more than the filter left of his cigarette. He stared at this dumbly before stubbing it out on the broken table and getting to his feet with a groan. His muscles were stiff from work and lying on the settee rather than a bed and he took a few seconds to stretch, rolling his shoulders and bending to touch his toes and twisting to loosen his lower back. He saw that his jacket was on the arm of the settee and so he picked up his packet of cigarettes and shoved them into the pocket for later. Then he dropped to his knees and hastily removed his boots before carrying them upstairs. The steps were bare wood against the soles of his feet and he took great care to not step on any of the protruding nails as he ascended them. Onto the first floor and down the hall to the bedroom. He tossed the boots at the bottom of his bed and then wondered where the hell he would have left a bag, one large enough to fit stuff in. He checked under the bed to no avail and he eventually located one at the very back of his closet. It was a khaki canvas bag with tan details and handles, an army duty style holdall with various compartments. He hadn't used it in so long that it was covered in a fine layer of dust and he carried it over to his bed to unzip it. Interior empty. He had a handful of receipts and a train ticket shoved inside one of the compartments, which revealed to him that he had last used it a few years ago, back in high school when he had lied about sleeping over at Namjoon's and had instead traveled half of the country to see a hip hop concert with them all, one Jungkook had barely managed to get into. Thirteen year old face but height back then still enough to work in his favour much to Jimin's annoyance. He blew most of the dust free and wiped the remainders off roughly, grimacing at the sensation of it clinging to his fingers.

He needed to pack it and pack it well, so he grabbed a stray pen from his bedside drawer and scribbled on the back of his hand until he saw ink. Then he sat down and used the back of one of the receipts to jot down a list. After a minute he stopped and looked at it: money, underwear, spare tees, medication, toiletries, electronic items AND chargers. Yoongi tapped the pen against his lower lip as he eyed the list. The boy might have claimed that they wouldn't need money but they most certainly would, for food and accommodation. They weren't going to be rummaging in trash cans and sleeping on benches. Underwear and spare clothing was obvious but not too much. They would manage to find a way of cleaning what they had so he thought that packing lightly would suffice and save him from lugging a heavy bag around all day long. Medication meant the contents of the bathroom cupboard even if it seemed stupid. If any of them got violently ill from eating badly cooked instant shit rather than real food then they would thank him for it. Toiletries and a decent-sized towel could be packed after his shower, but he would make sure to wrap them up in a plastic bag just in case they leaked to save any accidents. Lastly his phone and the charger, just in case. He didn't want to imagine an emergency situation but it was smart to do so. He made sure that that was everything he would need, reading the list over once or twice and waiting to see if anything would come to mind, and when he was certain that it was he left the receipt on his bed and got to his feet to go into the bathroom.

He turned the shower on and listened to the water making its way up the old pipes before it burst out of the head. It was freezing cold of course, just like always, and so he left it to heat up as he got undressed. When he stuck his hand under the stream he found it was warm but not hot and he wondered if that was the best that he was going to get for the day. He stepped into the bathtub but it actually managed to get close to hot as he started getting washed at least. Whilst he let the stream wash shampoo suds out of his hair he thought about that stupid phone again. As he lathered the shower gel and let it cover his skin he knew that he had made a massive mistake by breaking it like that but he knew that it was too late to be thinking things like that now. He splashed his face with freezing cold water and then brushed his teeth whilst looking at his reflection in the mirror over the sink, the one that had a hairline crack across it. Puffy eyelids that made him look half-asleep even when he was wide awake, dark smears underneath, lips a little chapped from his chewing on them between cigarettes. He looked like shit and it was fitting because he felt like it too.

Yoongi went back into the bedroom and got dressed without much care, plastic bag of toiletries and medication left beside the holdall for packing. He slipped into a pair of jeans and shrugged a white cotton tee over his head, ruffling his damp hair as he did. The weather from the window did look pretty hot so there was no point wearing anything else. He spread the towel out on his bed and then placed underwear and socks on it before rolling it into a neat little bundle that went into the holdall. Then he added a layer a tees and a pullover just in case the weather turned for some reason. No extra shoes needed and just his boots, which he got on and knotted tightly. Then he opened the plastic bag and sorted it out. Boxes of aspirin and cheap painkillers, allergy tablets and other random boxes went in an inside compartment along with a roll of bandage. It wasn't like he was packing with Jimin specifically in mind but it would be a lie to deny that his little accident last night had nothing to do with it. That done he tied the bag and shoved it inside before grabbing his mobile and charger, wallet and holdall and moved downstairs.

He charged the device whilst making breakfast, placing it on the settee with his bag and jacket so that he couldn't possibly leave the house without it. Yet as he attempted to eat he found his eyes being pulled over to the broken phone on the floor, plate on the counter in front of him being picked at rather than actually consumed. He felt guilty, the remains a constant reminder of his temper tantrum and he barely took more than a few mouthfuls of rice before finding it sticking in his throat and refusing the go down. Rather than trash it he shoveled the kimchi, rice and tofu into a container which he secured in a layer of saran wrap and then shoved into his bag.

"Waste not, want not," he muttered as he unplugged the phone and placed the charger into one of the outer compartments, snaking the wire up tightly around the plug head. His phone and wallet went into his jeans pocket with his lighter and he grabbed his jacket before knotting it around his waist tightly. Satisfied that he had everything prepared he left the house after locking it up securely. Then he took a deep breath as he hefted the bag up onto his shoulder and he started walking down the front path to get out onto the street.

Yoongi felt his headache starting to alleviate not long after he left the house and he wasn't surprised at all because he felt that strange sense of weight being lifted once more; no stress dragging him down like usual. Why, he practically skipped down the streets and would have done so if he was certain that people wouldn't stare at him if he did. Not that he saw many people for quite some time walking on the streets anyway, rather just passing in cars or buses, bicycles or motorbikes. That was because most people were in school or work of course, like he and the others were supposed to be and yet weren't. He would have been on his way to the restaurant right now after finishing cleaning up an office block and being stared at by workers like he was some kind strange animal rather than a fellow worker, yet here he was strolling down the streets of the capital with a cigarette between his lips and a holdall on his shoulder that was theoretically his home right now: a mobile home with nothing more than the bare basics in it.

The meeting place was a coach station not too far from the trainyard, one that only really had coaches that traveled out of the city rather than around the inner centre. The same one that they had used to get to the concert those few years ago. He was going to walk there because the weather was pretty good, bright but not too hot, a slight breeze out that played with his damp hair as it dried. He thought that they could travel quite well in this weather, wherever they were travelling of course, for he didn't have a clue.

"Knowing Tae it'll be fucking Timbuktu," Yoongi said before laughing to himself. He didn't particularly care where they ended up truthfully, which he found rather strange too. He usually liked to plan in advance and stick to a schedule, like his list from earlier, and yet he found that he didn't really care at all. Was that the joy of an adventure? Not knowing but rather discovering? The answer was likely 'yes' but he wouldn't admit this to his friends for it sounded rather silly; something Jimin might declare before the other kids poked fun at him. But he still felt that little rush of excitement regardless, that sensation in the pit of his stomach he hadn't felt in quite some time. He slipped the stick free and tapped ash off the end of it before sighting the first familiar flash of white across the road: a school uniform shirt. A mixed bunch of high schoolers ditching a class or two outside a convenience store, pullovers knotted around their waists just like his jacket, cellphones and soda cans in hand, lollipop or ice cream sticks in the corner of mouths. Had they ever ditched that way? For as along as Yoongi could remember when their gang had ditched it had not been with candy and soda in hand, it had been with cheap booze and cigarettes always, even when the kids had been in middle school. That probably explains a lot...he thought whilst picturing Taehyung pulling a six-pack of beer out of his backpack last night. He watched them as he passed and then carried on down the street, eyes finding his boots more interesting. With each step his laces bounced and he saw that one of the loops wasn't very secure at all.

When he next looked up he saw the coach station coming up, the large glass and metal building visible from quite some distance because it reflected sunlight annoyingly back at his eyes. He squinted unconsciously and tossed the used-up butt of cigarette aside so that it landed in the gutter. He could see a small gathering of mostly black clothing on the steps and he knew exactly who it was. Who else would be dumb enough to wear black in his heat? His friends of course, without a doubt. He didn't bother counting heads and would instead see who showed up when he got there. One of them must have noticed him walking up to the building because he heard a loud yell, undoubtedly Taehyung, and he lifted his hand and offered them all a slight wave.

"You sleep in?!" the boy joked and he couldn't see his eyes rolling from their distance at the comment.

"I wish!" he called and this elicited a few laughs. He got closer and squinted to see exactly six heads and that meant that he was the last to show up. A quick glance at his phone showed him that he was early, twenty minutes or so, and yet he felt strangely late. They were spread out on the stone steps on three levels: Jimin, Seokjin and Jungkook on the steps at the bottom, bags on laps hugged against chests or shoved under their legs out of the way, Hoseok and Namjoon were perched on one of the concrete walls beside the steps, legs stretched out in front of them, and Taehyung was standing on the top of the steps so that he could pace back and forth. He took a moment to observe them all as he crossed the last stretch of street.

Namjoon was sitting on the edge of the wall and his bag was just below his feet, which were bobbing in a random rhythm so that his tan Timberland boots hit the wall with a soft thumping noise. Jeans and a white tee under a black hoodie, he also had a baseball cap beneath the hood to block out the sunlight and hiding his dyed blond hair from view. Sitting behind him so that he was sideways on the wall, legs shoved out in front of him so that he could rest his feet on the steps, was Hoseok. He had not expected to see him today, that he wouldn't show up or that he would have at least been late, yet he was there and judging from his expression he looked rather serene. Thin black coat shrugged down off his shoulders to puddle around his elbows, grey tee on show that revealed his slight frame, he had a bottle of water in hand that looked nearly empty. Jungkook was on the right of the steps and he had his knees drawn up to rest his elbows on them, black hoodie on but hood down to not hide his face, just the neckline and hints of a logo on his tee visible over his holdall bag. On the left was Seokjin, own bag tucked behind his legs neatly out of the way, same clothing on as yesterday that revealed that he had been in a rush. Between them both was Jimin and he also hadn't changed. He wondered if he had even packed before noticing the backpack on his lap. At least he had been smart enough to wear a polo shirt, the others were going to get overheated rather quickly in this weather. Taehyung was just like the rest, black hood up hiding his dark brown hair, white cotton tee that wasn't stained or had little holes in the hemline for once, backpack stashed against the wall beside Hoseok's boots. Yoongi walked right up to the bottom of the steps and stopped to look at them.

"Good afternoon children," he remarked.

"And the elderly," Jungkook added before their eldest friend shifted to glare at him.

"What, we jumping a coach now?"

"You wish," Taehyung retorted, "'cos that means you'd get to sit down all day but no." He bent down to retrieve his backpack and shrugged it on as he bounded down the steps. "We're walking." At this a few of them made theatrical groaning noises. "C'mon babies, off we go."

"Where exactly would that be?" Hoseok asked as he got off the wall, backpack swinging from his free hand. He didn't wince so perhaps that ever present headache had finally left him in peace.

"Wherever I go."

"Follow you?" the other boy raised his eyebrows at this and snorted. "That's a bad idea."

"You'd follow me to the end of the world, stop talking shit." Taehyung got to the bottom of the steps and threw his arms out dramatically. "You'd follow me into a volcano, to antarctica, to outer space."

"One of us is talking shit and it isn't me," Hoseok muttered and the boy offered him a wink as he stepped around Seokjin to get to the bottom and stand on the sidewalk too. Yoongi glanced at his face and then asked him if he was okay and he returned his gaze. "Yes, I'm good. Are you?" He just shrugged at the question but it seemed a good enough answer for Hoseok.

"Where exactly are we supposed to end up if we follow you?" Namjoon asked, also jumping down off the wall and stretching to grab his holdall. Taehyung said the outskirts of the city. "OK, so how do we get there?"

"We go...thatta way!" Taehyung whirled on his heel and pointed at the wide stretch of road beside them and they all glanced in that direction for a few silent seconds. "C'mon, get off your lazy asses." So their three other friends got off the steps, shrugging backpacks on or grabbing holdalls to carry, suppressing yawns behind hands. "We've gotta cover enough ground today to at least be outta the city and there's lots of miles to go, Seoul is fucking huge." Taehyung started walking at a brisk pace and Yoongi held back for a few seconds to let the others fall into formation: Jungkook and Jimin right behind, Namjoon and Hoseok winging on the sides, and lastly Seokjin, so he decided to walk alongside the young man.

After a few minutes of walking he glanced over his shoulder and the coach station was getting smaller and smaller with each passing second. He could see people through the glass walls moving about like ants and when he looked back Taehyung had raced quite a distance ahead of them. The street they were on was wide and both sidewalks were narrow, only them moving on the right and the left side completely empty of life. There were barricades running the lengths and after a while shrubbery started to grow on the side, spindly branches bare of blossoms and rather just tiny little buds, unruly bushes with wrappers and plastic bags tangled within, and dry, pebbly-looking soil. The boy jumped up and snapped one of these branches free before waving it around like a conductor's wand. He could picture him prodding them with it should they all start bickering or refuse to believe some shit that he had said. It was so fitting in fact that he was waiting for Jimin to get poked with it first. He slipped his phone free to check the time: 2pm. He didn't have a clue what was going to happen but he decided to just go with it.

The road they were on got narrower and started to run into a freeway of sorts, one that had concrete walkways with high metal fences that blocked them off from the thin roads. Mostly trucks passed them by, backs massive and no doubt packed with goods, engines rumbling and throwing great plumes of acrid smoke in their faces. Yoongi pulled his cigarettes out and watched Jungkook climb onto the narrow edge of one of these fences, quickly walking along it as sure as a cat, bag not seeming to slow him down at all. The kid was too confident sometimes and he briefly wondered when his first real fall would happen before laughing under his breath. The answer was never, for the boy was just too damn lucky. Seokjin looked at him as if curious and he just waved it off, it wasn't important. He pulled the stick free to dab ash on the paving flags when Jimin decided to launch himself up and copy his actions. He scrabbled to grab onto the chain link fence and twisted to start bounding along behind him. The boy actually managed quite a distance before his ankle started wobbling and it seemed that he was going to fall. Yoongi pictured him toppling over the side and falling the few feet to land on the solid concrete ground, hitting it hard enough to split his head open or break an arm, and he shoved the stick back in his mouth hastily and was about to dart over and try and grab him when Jimin recovered and carried on running along, letting out a little shocked laugh as he did.

"Get down from there before you break your fucking necks!" Yoongi shouted.

"The square's here!" Jungkook declared as he near skipped along the narrow ledge without a care.

"Rather be a square than dead!"

"He's just pissed 'cos he's too short to get up there," Taehyung said as he turned and pointed the branch right at him. "Am I right?" Yoongi glared at him before shoving his holdall into Seokjin's arms and pushing through to get to the side of the road. He grabbed hold of the ledge and dragged himself up, tee lifting so that his stomach brushed against the side of the concrete. He got to his feet and hastily wiped his hands before taking a few steps along it. It was a lot more narrower than it looked and his boots stuck over the edge by an inch or so. "Didn't even need a boost!" He flashed the boy the middle finger and carried on walking at a quicker pace. It wasn't that surprising at all that Jimin had stumbled and nearly fell off it now that he was up on it too.

"Is anyone hungry?" Seokjin asked suddenly as he shifted his own holdall onto one shoulder to carry his more easily. At the remark several of them made noises in agreement. "Alright, who didn't eat breakfast today?" Namjoon, Jimin and Hoseok raised their arms in agreement as if answering a teacher. "Tae?"

"I had a liquid breakfast!"

"Beer is not a suitable food group!" The boy carried on walking without looking back but he could picture the wide smirk on his lips. "No breakfast and it's past lunch already...why am I stuck with a bunch of children?"

"Children need a good mother," Namjoon explained. "Especially these ones."

"Says the guy that also didn't eat breakfast," Hoseok retorted with a grin.

"OK, fine, how about this? First place we find that sells food, it's on me."

"So, if we find a steakhouse," Jimin said as he spared a quick over his shoulder back at them. "You have to pay for it?"

"Yeah, but do you think we'll find somewhere that sells something like that out here in the fucking boondocks?" Namjoon asked.

"Only if it serves roadkill steaks!" Jungkook called as he reached the end of the ledge and jumped down with a loud thump. The joke made them laugh and then Jimin stopped on the ledge for a moment, eyeing the sizable gap in the concrete that the other boy jumped across rather easily a minute. He was no doubt aware of the fact that he would fall and so he got down too. Yoongi took advantage of this sudden height and decided to jump down onto him. The boy stumbled but managed to not trip as he wrapped his arms around his neck in an impromptu piggyback ride. Seokjin complained about carrying his holdall in an obnoxious whine.

"Sergeant Jungkook!" Taehyung intoned in a dramatic voice. "Go and scout the enemy lines for supplies before our men starve." He even did a quick step like a marching soldier for effect.

"Aye aye Sergeant." The boy saluted before racing along the last stretch of the walkway that looked to lead back onto a main road.

"Lieutenant!" he shouted back. Hoseok scoffed at this childish display and so Taehyung turned back and pointed the branch at him, held in both hands like a mock rifle. "Do we have a mutiny on our hands, men?"

"Honestly, I'd prefer you just shoot me now so I don't have to play along."

"I'll see you get a good funeral soldier." He puffed his cheeks up and did a pretty damn good impression of a machine gun letting rip, even shaking the branch for added realism. Hoseok threw his hands up and declared that he was dead in the most flattest tone possible and it made Yoongi snort laughter. Taehyung lifted the branch to mime blowing gun smoke from the barrel. "Who's next, huh?"

"Does a Lieutenant shoot all of his men?" Seokjin asked sarcastically.

"When they're as fucking useless as you all are..." he grinned at them widely even when they glared back.

"You wouldn't get very far with no army," Namjoon explained slowly, as if talking to a child, "and you need an army to win a war."

"No shit Sherlock," Yoongi muttered down Jimin's ear, hearing him giggling at the remark.

"I'm a one man army, motherfuckers." Taehyung pointed the branch at them both. "This soldier's cracking up, going nuts on us men, I think he's next."

"I'm carrying a wounded comrade and you're gonna shoot me?" Jimin asked incredulously, as if this was reality and not one of the boy's stupid games. Taehyung asked what was wrong with him, narrowing his eyes suspiciously as he did.

"I'm sick," Yoongi replied.

"Sick with what?"

"Sick of your bullshit." Taehyung mimed slipping a grenade out of his jeans, lifting it to pull the ring free and then tossing it. Yoongi climbed off his friend's back and caught his holdall when the other young man tossed it at him.

"Three men gone, whatever happened to brothers in arms, huh?"

"You keep killing them," Hoseok said as he rolled his eyes.

"Three? Wait, I'm dead?"

"I just used a grenade Jimin, what the fuck do you think?" The other boy grumbled in annoyance and they had just got to the end of the walkway when Jungkook came running around the corner and announced that there were food stalls a few streets down from their location. "Dead men don't need to eat..." Taehyung paused for a moment before racing down the street as quick as a flash, practically leaving a dust cloud in his wake.

"I'm not chasing after him," Yoongi declared but then the others darted off after him and left him behind. It was too hot for anything even close to exercise so he just shrugged his bag up onto his shoulder and kept walking at the same pace. He exited the walkway and stepped onto the street to see a busy main road directly in front of him.

The view to his left showed apartment blocks and the one to his right was more road and a scattering of buildings and abandoned lots with fences cutting them off from the street. The gang were all nearly at the end of the first street and he could hear them hollering from his distance; Jimin in the lead with the two other kids on his heels. By the time he caught up with them they were already sampling whatever they could get their greedy hands on. Yoongi studied the buildings as he passed and saw a used car dealership with a dozen vehicles in the adjacent lot, a tea house that advertised discount herbal fusions, a rather seedy-looking tattoo parlor, and a hairdressers with a closed sign in the window. The food stalls were around a bustling area that looked to contain some houses and a building that could have possibly been an elementary school, judging from Namjoon's joke about Jungkook being late for class. He strolled the length of the packed stalls, not really looking at the food because he wasn't particularly hungry. Taehyung was in the midst of inhaling a kalbi skewer, stick and all, when Hoseok pointed at the fast food joint across the street and next thing he knew the kids were racing across the busy street towards it. regardless of the beeping car horns.

"Uh...wait, so how much was the- shit," Namjoon groaned as he tried to remember how much food had been samples and how much had actually been bought.

"Go and get 'em," Yoongi said. "I'll pay here. You and Seokjin stop 'em before they order the whole fucking menu." He pulled his wallet out of his jeans and asked the woman on the stall what the tab was.

"12,190₩." That was cheaper than he had been expecting so he handed her a note and accepted the change before shoving his wallet back into his jeans. He crossed the road after the two other men and pushed the door open to see that boys already taking up two tables: Taehyung with near a hundred straws in front of him so that he could tear off the paper wrappers and try and spitball Jimin in the side of the head.

Yoongi watched them messing around and he knew that it was going to be a long fucking day.

He eyed the twin single beds in front of him and then realised that this meant that he might just need to share. That wouldn't have been the most comfortable outcome but at least he was with Namjoon and Seokjin and not the kids. He could hear them even through the walls of the hostel and in his mind he saw them bouncing on the beds to try and touch the low ceiling, fighting with pillows, breaking the tiny bathroom sink. The thought was enough to make him feel exhausted. How could they be so goddamn energetic all day long, from sunrise to sunset, hollering and racing around without needing naps of some kind like other children? He couldn't even imagine being able to do something like that, but all of the sugar and calories from their lunch had likely helped; milkshakes so thick that they had been like sludge through the straws, fries that had also doubled up as projectile missiles and burgers that had looked to have been fried buns and all. Yoongi had eaten just a few fries here and there and drank a soda to combat the heat but not much more, still remembering the remains of his breakfast in his holdall bag, but the others had happily finished all of the food without complaint. He had watched Hoseok doodling on napkins with the blunt remains of a pencil he had had shoved into his coat pocket and had figured out that the boy had left his sketchbook at home. He had had to resort to covering several napkins in various sketches: drink containers, a rifle much like the one that Taehyung had been pretending to shoot them all with, and what other items he had lain his eyes on; stopping only to grab a few fries every now and again before going back to it. But they had gone right into the trash with the containers and little leftover chunks of food. If he had forgotten that then had the others neglected to pack things too? Things that might be important?

"I'll take the settee," he said as he tossed his holdall on a coffee table just in front of it, this one not broken or rickety like his, "'cos I likely won't sleep tonight anyway."

"Well," Namjoon said as he eyed it, "not on that thing you won't." Then he grabbed one of the pillows off the bed by the window and tossed it on the settee. "That's better...kinda." From the other room came a comically loud thud and then a chorus of laughter. "We're gonna get kicked out at this rate."

"I'll go tell 'em to settle down," Yoongi said as he unknotted his jacket and then slipped out of his boots, "or I'll kick their asses." Seokjin was pottering around in the small bathroom and he exited their room to step outside. There was a lot directly facing him mostly empty of cars and a concrete path that lead around the side of the building. On the horizon the sun had already set an hour ago, the sky a mottled deep purple and hues of blue that covered most but a few little stars that had managed to shine through the light pollution and clouds. At the end of the lot there were a few streetlights and they glowed a warm orange that matched the headlights of passing vehicles on the road. The path felt cool and gritty against his bare feet and he walked the short distance to their room before opening the door, which they hadn't even locked yet.

The interior was a mess, clothing strewn everywhere, pillows and sheets not even on the beds properly, and he stared at it before looking at the boys. All of them in various states of undress excluding Hoseok who was presumably in the bathroom because he was nowhere in sight, wet hair present that showed that at least Jungkook had already gotten cleaned up.

"Children," he said in a low voice, "if you don't behave then Seokjin's gonna come and babysit your asses." Jimin declared that he wasn't sleepy, not even a little. "Yeah, me neither but I'm not trying out for the Olympic Gymnastic team in my fucking underwear." At this remark he heard quite a few sniggers. "We've been running across the city all day after you. Tomorrow we carry on, you'll need all of the sleep you can get, alright?"

"What happens tomorrow exactly?" Hoseok asked as he emerged from the bathroom with a towel around his shoulders, damp hair brushed back off his brow. The room went silent for a few seconds before Taehyung explained that they would end up outside the capital and that they needed to walk to the next city, maybe three or so hours on foot if they followed the road and didn't wander.

"See, a busy day. So at least try and get some sleep." Yoongi eyed the messy room for a moment before stepping out of the doorway and closing it again. When he went back into their room Namjoon was sitting on the edge of the bed by the window glancing over takeaway leaflets that had been in a bedside table drawer with bored disinterest on his face. "They're getting cleaned up and will hopefully rest but the room is a real mess."

"Joonie?" Seokjin called from the bathroom before sticking his head through the open doorway.

"Yeah?"

"Did you see the store just at the end of the block before? The one with the neon tubes in the window?" He confirmed that he had with a nod. "Do you think that they would sell detergent?"

"Washing detergent? For clothes?" Yoongi asked as he glanced over his shoulder at him. He was wearing a white vest and underwear and had presumably stepped out of the small shower, toothbrush in hand. He said that that was exactly what he meant. Namjoon shrugged and said that it probably did, seen as it had advertised 24/7 service and goods.

"See, I was wondering about the clothes situation and...there's a tub in the bathroom. Clothes could be washed in it and left to dry, like tees and underwear. Saves running out after three days and getting in trouble, right?"

"That's a good idea actually, the kids probably only packed another pair," Namjoon remarked with a laugh before getting to his feet. "I'll go check it out." Yoongi offered to go with him but he just shook his head. "Nah, you get cleaned up instead it should only take me a couple of minutes."

"OK, but take my jacket, it's pretty cold out there." He handed him it and the young man slipped it on over his hoodie with thanks before crossing the room and leaving. He heard the door closing with a clicking noise and he scanned the walls of the room for a moment. Floral print paper that looked out of fashion five decades ago, cream carpet underfoot that would stain easily, twin beds with plain white cottons pillows and covers and nothing fancy-looking at all. Then he went into the bathroom and glanced over that too: small room with a toilet in the far left corner, sink beside it and a tiny tub with a shower attachment fitted to the right with a window above it which was currently closed. Even Yoongi would have to fold his legs to fit inside the tub. No mirror on the wall but rather a different style of outdated floral wallpaper. "Remember the joke earlier about a mother?" He asked as he studied the back of his friend's head.

"They'll thank me when they're not wearing three day old underwear," Seokjin said and he heard the sound of tap water running. "But Tae's probably used to it by now."

"That kid's never gonna go back to school, y'know?" Yoongi leaned back against the door frame and folded his arms over his chest. "He thinks he's got some system going on and he can keep going forever but he can't. Only so much stealing you can do before you get caught, if that's all he's been doing." The other man asked him what he meant by this and he thought the question over for a moment. "He's making money somehow, right? How's he still got that shitty hostel room if he ain't?"

"Good point," Seokjin agreed with a nod. "I didn't even think of that."

"I'm scared that the kids will copy him," he said quietly, "Jungkook's already getting there and he's smart, I don't want him to waste his brains in some last ditch teenage effort to piss mommy and daddy off, y'know?" His friend finished brushing his teeth and turned around to study him. "They think that we dunno what it's like but we do, we had all of that shit too but you were smart enough to go to college unlike me and Joonie. I want 'em to look up to you, not me. I smoke too much, swear too much, shit..." Yoongi laughed softly under his breath and the corners of Seokjin's lips twitched slightly. "This adventure...it's a good time to try and get 'em back on track, right? Get the teen bullshit angst out?"

"Just don't tell them that it's bullshit," he said with a grin, "or they'll throw a real tantrum."

When Namjoon returned several minutes later Yoongi had just gotten out of the shower and had been in the act of slipping his jeans back on, knowing that he wouldn't sleep for an hour or three at least and therefore not wanting to walk around the room in his underwear. It turned out that the store did indeed sell detergent and he had a white plastic bottle with a lilac lid in hand. So Seokjin disappeared to go into the other room to no doubt clean up their messes whilst their friend finally got to go into the bathroom and clean up. Yoongi lay down on the settee and stared up at the cracked ceiling, the material slightly itchy against his bare back. He listened to the shower running and the muted voices from the other room as he closed his eyes with a heavy sigh. His muscles were tired from walking for hours on end, mostly the backs of his knees, and he just wanted to sleep but it wouldn't come to him. He rolled onto his side to stare at the door in grumpy annoyance and after awhile Seokjin reentered the room with the bottle of detergent in hand.

"I left Jimin to do the scrubbing," he announced as he locked the door securely and dropped the keys in a bowl just beside it on a low table, "because I imagined Tae starting a splash fight and blinding one of them with the stuff, and I thought it really wasn't worth the risk at all." Yoongi made a noise in agreement and his friend studied his expression silently for a second. "Are you OK?"

"No, I think I'm a fucking insomniac."

"Trouble sleeping?"

"Just a few hours these past few days, less than eight in four days I think, I can't remember." Seokjin grimaced at this and he could only laugh in response. "Pretty much, I was hoping an entire day of walking might help but no...still feel like I'm not gonna sleep."

"Instead of thinking you can't," Namjoon said as he stepped out of the bathroom and went over to the bed, slipping a white tee on over his head as he did that matched his hair, "try thinking you will, the power of positivity and all that."

"Positivity my ass," Yoongi muttered and his friend rolled his eyes at this.

"Just try."

Yet an hour passed and still no sleep at all.

Yoongi knew that the other two were asleep from listening to their breathing, and judging from the silence from the other room the kids had too. Either that or they were just whispering instead. He had tried counting the lumps in the ceiling plaster in the hopes that it would make him drowsy. He closed his eyes and counted an entire platoon of sheep in his head but it didn't help in the slightest. Eventually he moved over to sit on the windowsill and open it a crack so that he could smoke the last of his cigarettes. Just three. Yoongi ran his thumb along the filtered butts before deciding to go to the store at the end of the street and buy some more. He fished the room keys out of the glass bowl and unlocked the door before locking it securely again, shoving the keys back into his jacket pocket. He passed the other room and tried the door to see that the kids had finally locked it, the handle just budging in his grip but not opening, and then he crossed the lot to go across the street. The store was lit up neon tubes that advertised 24/7 service in green and red and when he got closer he looked through the windows, peering past the fliers and ads tacked to the glass to see that it was practically empty save for a few browsing customers.

Yoongi pushed the door and went right over to the till because that was where the cigarettes were kept, on high shelves out of reach of any wandering kid hands. He bought a packet without needing to flash I.D., all the while imagining that his sleep-deprived face likely made him look forty, and then he left again to head back to the hotel. There were a few cars rolling down the road so he crossed it in a slight jog before they could blare horns at him, and he walked the length of street to get back to the hostel.

Door locked once more, boots cast aside by the table and seated on the windowsill, Yoongi lit his first cigarette and took a deep pull on it. He leaned back against the slight jut of wall the frame was set into, one leg cocked up on the sill and the other hanging over the side, and let the smoke out in a sigh. The view outside was nothing more than blackness with flashing lights every few seconds: reds, blues and yellows of neon signs, building windows and the headlights of passing cars. He couldn't see a single star from his position, not like they had back in the trainyard. Bright glowing Venus like another sun. He pulled the cigarette free and wet his lips before sticking it back into the corner. Like those kids outside the convenience store with lollipops this morning, like Taehyung with his pursed lips around the soda straw. He hadn't been lying when he had told Seokjin that he was a bad influence: a chain smoking, nervous wreck that couldn't even sleep anymore because his brain wouldn't let him, instead thinking of the most stupidest shit possible to keep him wide awake.

Yoongi fiddled with the lighter between his fingers, flicking it open and then snapping it shut again with his thumb, the little flame flickering as it did. A miniature Venus in the palm of his hand. Before he could stop himself he lifted his free hand up, palm and fingers held flat, and held it a couple of inches above the flame. Then he lowered it slowly, feeling the air get warmer and warmer until his skin was baking. He pulled his hand away just an inch above it and flicked the lighter off again. But a few seconds later he had it back open and flicked on again. This time he quickly waved his hand over the flame. A sudden but faint heat against his palm. Yoongi breathed smoke out of his nose, cigarette bobbing between his lips as he did, and repeated the action, more slowly this time. The sensation was a lot stronger and he pulled his lips back with a hiss. It was closer to the feeling of being pricked with tiny needles, making his palm sting first before starting to burn. A dab of ash fell off the end of the stick to land on his arm and he brushed it away brusquely, seeing the smear against his inner elbow that left a pinkish mark behind. Yoongi slipped the cigarette free to see it was nearly at the end of the filter, nothing more than a slight bit of white. He glanced over at his sleeping friends, burrowed under the covers so that just hair on the pillow or a slight hint of face was visible, and then he looked down at the stick.

The end was smouldering, little flashes of orange visible amidst the black and grey ash.

It would be hot.

Very hot.

Yoongi held it between his thumb and forefinger and then hovered it above his elbow. It would be just like the lighter, a slight sting of pain and nothing more. It might just leave a mark behind too, something a little more painful than a patch of pink skin. Maybe a welt.

"I'm a real bad influence," he muttered before reaching over and stubbing it out against the windowsill instead.