It was exactly after his shower that he found out that his wallet was empty.

Yoongi hadn't thought to check it out at any point because he hadn't felt the need to, for it had been tucked away securely in his holdall bag the entire night, transferred into his jeans pocket during the day for convenience. So he had woken up with the idea of checking it right at the back of his mind, more preoccupied with the thoughts of smoking his first cigarette of the day and picking at the remains of food from yesterday just because he could feel Seokjin's eyes on him the entire time and it wasn't worth the trouble avoiding eating. He had chewed a few mouthfuls of rice cake just for the sake of it and struggled to swallow the dry chunks, practically sticking in his throat like rocks, and then he had taken his usual position on the sill across the room to smoke; window open and not letting in a breeze at all but rather just allowing ample sunlight in to bake the skin on his face and arms. Namjoon had joked about him finally getting a little colour, own tanned arms on display as he had collected trash up to toss it into the dumpster just across the lot. He had rolled his eyes in response and had tapped more ash onto the carpet that was littered with stubbed out sticks, matches, and other random items like pen lids and bottle caps. From the other room had come the sound of the boys, signalling that they were all wide awake and likely tearing the place apart as they packed up. Yoongi had already packed most of his stuff away, leaving clean underwear and a tee out to get changed into, and he had let his friends get washed up first because he hadn't had the energy to do so upon waking up. Another night of fractured sleep, time spent between smoking and worrying, mostly over Hoseok and what he had said about the antidepressants.

Had he been correct? Or had he just assumed that to be the case and been a little too forward? He wasn't sure but it seemed correct to him, but perhaps he shouldn't have blurted it out so carelessly? It probably should have come from the boy's mouth rather than his but the chances of him saying something were slim. The fact that he hadn't already told them meant he was either planning on not doing so, or that he was waiting for the ideal time. If it was the latter then he had probably fucked it up for him. The kids might not know so there was that, but they could be very quick and keen on things, so they might have already figured it out too.

Yoongi had washed up quickly just so that he couldn't possibly delay the gang, dressing even as his hair had still been damp and dripping, brushing his teeth as he had shoved everything away in his holdall. He had been in the act of going to zip it up when he had noticed his wallet lying in the main compartment. For a few seconds he had just stared at it, blinking languidly as he eyed the worn leather.

He never left it in the main compartment during the night. It went into one of the smaller side ones instead. But now it was in the main and he didn't know why. He opened the smaller one where his phone should have been and yet it was empty save for his charger, the wire curled up around the plug head snugly.

Yoongi reached inside and pulled his wallet free in confusion, hearing the other young men talking to each other but not really what they were talking about: words distant nonsense to his ears. He ran his thumb along the leather slowly before thumbing it open. It felt somewhat different and yet he couldn't seem to figure out why, or at least until he opened it and saw that the note compartment was free of money. No cash, no notes. He unzipped the inner section and saw no glinting coins inside. At the back of his mind he could feel panic clouding, yet he felt oddly calm and detached as he tipped it upside down. Not even a piece of lint fell out. He turned it right ways up and then scanned the little holders in the side of the wallet. No cards. Yoongi dropped the wallet on the bed and then patted his jeans pockets even though he knew there was nothing inside them. After coming up empty handed he actually checked his wallet again just to be sure that he hadn't somehow missed the cash, even though he knew it was a ridiculous thought. He glanced over at his friends and then went over to the settee to check Namjoon's bag, and only when he had pulled his friend's wallet free did Seokjin notice what he was doing and ask him why he was rooting through the holdall.

"Check your wallets, check your jeans, check wherever the fuck your money and phones are." Yoongi tossed the wallet at Namjoon and then reached up to tug on his hair, which was still damp against his fingertips.

"Why?" The younger man asked as he flipped it open. "What's going on...?" But he had only just finished asking the question when his eyes fell on the empty compartment and his jaw dropped open. "What the fuck?!" Seokjin slipped his own one free of his jeans, thumbed it open and then also repeated the curse under his breath.

"We've been cleaned out," Yoongi said as he he dropped his hands back down to his hips. "The fucker robbed us blind whilst we were asleep."

"Now hang on," Namjoon said as he held his hand up placatingly. "We dunno that just yet and-"

"The fuck is your money Joonie?" he interrupted brusquely. "Not in your wallet, where it should be, so where the fuck is it?" He could only drop his eyes to the empty wallet in his other hand without a word. Yoongi let this hang in the air for a moment before storming across the room to get out, walking across the little path to get to the other room. He tried opening the door but it was locked, and so he rapped his knuckles on the wood hard and rapidly. After a few seconds it swung open and he pushed past Hoseok to get inside the room. "Check your wallets, now." The boys all stared at him dumbly for a few seconds. "I'm being serious, check. Check for your phones too." So Jimin shifted to shove his hands in his jeans and he pulled them out to stare at his empty palms with a blank expression. "Nothing?"

"I...uh...the cash was in my jeans and...what the fuck?"

"Where's my money?" Hoseok asked in confusion, own wallet in his hands. "Seriously guys, is this a stupid prank?"

"Kookie?" The boy bent down and reached inside one of his boots that were on the floor, pulling a handful of notes out. He did say that the coins in his jeans pockets were missing however. Taehyung also held a small roll of notes up that he had collected from his boot and said that he still had cash. Yoongi took a deep breath and held it up for a few seconds. His initial panic had transformed into something else entirely, something that felt dangerously close to blind anger. He could feel his hands shaking at his sides and before he could stop himself he darted out of the room, ignoring the boys' calls and confused questions. He crossed the lot without stopping and heard the sound of boots pounding on the tarmac behind him, out of beat with his own. He reached the entrance area and pushed the door open hard before storming across and over to the desk. The middle-aged man behind the desk looked up at him and he saw his expression shifting as he realised who had walked in.

"I've a complaint to lodge."

"Is there something wrong with the room that-"

"Yeah, there's a massive problem, mainly the fact that me and my friends have been fucking robbed."

"I'm sorry?"

"We've been robbed, our wallets are empty. I can't find my fucking phone."

"There's no need to curse-"

"I'll curse all I fucking want!" Yoongi spat. "Either someone staying here broke into our rooms and robbed us, or you did. Which one is it?" The man held his gaze for but a second before shifting his eyes to look over his shoulder instead: guilty as charged. He placed his hands down on the desk counter to stop them rolling into fists. "This ain't a broken shower or A.C., our money has been stolen."

"Then that means you'll have to call the police," he retorted, "and file a complaint." Yoongi let this statement hang in the air for a moment, realising the full implications of his words. He couldn't call the police, not with a bunch of runaway, class-ditching kids in their midst, and the man knew this too. There was nothing that they could do and wasn't that the most convenient of situations to be trapped in?

"Give us the cash and phones back and I won't call 'em."

"I don't know what you're talking about." His stubbornness and flighty eyes were a dead giveaway. Yoongi sighed before reaching over to pull the receiver out of the cradle of the desk phone, rapidly hitting the plastic keys as the man stared at him blankly. He pressed the receiver against his ear and listened to the dull dial tone for a few seconds before an unmistakable sound cut through the air: a blaring hip hop track that carried from somewhere behind the counter.

His ringtone.

"You fucker!" Yoongi tried to dive across the reception desk and was stopped only by someone grabbing hold of his tee. The suddenness of his movement actually broke the contact but a moment later fingers snagged on his shoulder and pulled him back. His stomach and hips slammed into the wood hard and he felt his breath leaving his lungs in a grunt of pain. He couldn't even grab hold of the man because he stepped back out of his reach. "You piece of shit, I'm-"

"Yoongi!" Jungkook shouted as he dragged back on him hard but he twisted and wriggled to try and free himself, elbow hitting the boy hard in the ribs in the process.

"I'm gonna kick your ass!"

"Namjoon help me, he's gonna-" Yoongi managed to tear free and was in the process of crawling over the counter when more hands seized him, this time the back of his jeans waistband. Before he could kick out and try and swing his legs over the side Jungkook managed to get a proper hold of him: snaking his arms under his so that he could drag him back off the counter in some kind of pro-wrestling move.

"I'm gonna kill him! Let me go I'm gonna fucking kill him!" He was pulled backwards hard, boots scraping on the linoleum as he kicked and stomped uselessly. He couldn't believe that they were stopping him. They had been robbed, they had been fucking robbed! After more useless wriggling he was dragged out of the entrance area and back onto the lot and that was when the boy twisted around and pushed him hard. He stumbled a few steps before whirling around but Jungkook was there to block him and Seokjin had even stepped in front of the door, shaking his head and telling him that it wasn't worth it. Yoongi tried to get past but the boy just shifted to stop him, arms up to grab him and push him away again.

"I think he's calling the cops," Taehyung remarked as he peered through the window. His breath plumed up against the glass and so he proceeded to draw a cock on it with his forefinger.

"He's got the cash, got my fucking phone!" he shouted. "I want it back!"

"If the police show they'll arrest us too," Jimin said quietly, scuffing the toes of his boot on the tarmac.

"Just let me..." Yoongi breathed out heavily and felt his anger starting to deflate just as quickly as it had exploded. "Shit guys, we need that cash, we need..."

"To get out of here." Taehyung finished as he added a little flourish to his window art, little splashes of semen to make it that much more offensive. Yoongi hunkered down and buried his face in his hands as he took several deep breaths to try and calm himself down, in through his nose and out of his mouth and feeling his shoulders shaking as he did. It was just like the smashed house phone all over again, that blind rage that had consumed him entirely. "C'mon, let's blow this place."

"The keys..."

"I have them," Seokjin said, and he heard them jingling as he no doubt shook them between his fingers.

"Give me 'em." His friend explained that it was probably best that he return them but he just held a hand out silently, and after a few seconds he gave him them. Yoongi got upright and moved to stand by the curb by the window and then he held the keys up so that the man inside could see them...before dropping them into the gutter. The keys slipped through the grate and out of sight as Yoongi flashed him the middle finger turned on his heel.

"Now we can get outta here."

"How much?"

"34,000." Taehyung sighed as he flicked to the last note and looked up at his friends. "Barely enough to cover a night at a hostel." He shoved the cash down into his boot and turned to look at Jungkook. The boy had his notes in his hands and he was counting them, brow furrowed in concentration. After a minute he muttered 30,000₩ under his breath. "Jimin?"

"So far I've found...uh...7,300 in change from the gutters and a tear inside my backpack but that's all."

"We spend double that on food," Hoseok remarked. "On a single meal."

"Too bad now," Yoongi said as he kicked at a crumpled soda can, "'cos that's our food allowance for the entire day. Y'know how much I had in my wallet? I had about roughly 187,300₩ from not putting my weekly wages into my account. I had an entire weeks' worth of fucking pay and more in the bank...but now I've got no goddamn card 'cos it was stolen."

"They don't know your pin, they can't clean you out," Namjoon said quietly.

"I know, but I can't get my own fucking cash 'cos I got no card."

"I had about...282,700₩," the other young man declared, "from winning a bet combined with a handful of notes already in my wallet. Imagine how I feel."

"122,800," Seokjin muttered, "give or take a couple of hundred won."

"I had maybe 61,800₩," Hoseok explained with a sigh. "All saved up with nothing to spend it on. Now I have nothing."

"Sorry guys, I only had about 20,000."

"You don't need to apologise Jimin," Yoongi said, "100₩ is better than nothing. We've got...what, 70,000₩ or something like that, right now. That's enough for...maybe two days on the road, yeah?" None of them replied but Taehyung was thinking that it was a lot more than two days if they spent it wisely and didn't pay for things they could get for free. "I should've called the fucking police," his friend mumbled. "Even if they did drag us off too. Why didn't you let me punch his teeth in, huh?"

"'Cos you looked like you really were gonna kill him," Jungkook retorted, "and I didn't want murder on our list of petty offences." The young man argued that he'd have been doing the world a favour by killing the hostel owner and none of them even argued otherwise.

"Pieces of trash like him," Namjoon said as he shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets, "will get their comeuppance. Karma's a real bitch."

"Karma won't get us our cash back," Yoongi muttered bitterly. "70 ain't gonna last long, then what? How do we get back to Seoul? Using our thumbs to hitch a fucking ride?"

"We make more cash," Taehyung said without missing a beat, "and that's how we keep going."

For a few seconds his friends fell silent and he just carried on walking along the road, seeing the city limits getting closer and closer with every passing minute. Then he realised that he was the only one walking and he stopped to turn on his heel and look back at them.

"What?" he asked as he shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and looked at them all in turn. Confused expressions, furrowed brows and open mouths that would catch flies in the current heat. "Did I fucking stutter?"

"Make cash?" Hoseok asked dumbly as he blinked at him. He nodded at the question and then heard scoffing sounds coming from his gangs of friends. "It's really that easy?"

"Course it is."

"I can't believe this," Yoongi muttered, pulling his third cigarette of the morning free with one hand and pinching the bridge of his nose with the other. "That I'm actually hearing this. Tae, it took me a week and three fucking jobs to get that cash in the first fucking place. How fast and easy do you think it is to make cash? To get a job in the first place?"

"In a city like this," Taehyung said as he gestured behind him, "real fucking easy but you just dunno it yet. Trust me, I've done this before. I lived four solid weeks on the road with less than 70,000₩ in my boot from working jobs no one else was desperate enough to take."

"And stealing," Seokjin said disapprovingly, "and likely other illegal things too." Taehyung ignored him and instead hunkered down to slip the cash free and hold it out to Namjoon. His friend stared at it dumbly and asked him what he was doing.

"Take it," he waved the roll of notes. "And I'll fucking bet by evening I'll have double that, no triple that. Keep it safe, gamble it away if you want, doesn't matter 'cos I'll get more."

"I'm not gambling the little cash we have away," his friend muttered as he took the money and shoved it into his jeans pocket. "And I don't believe that bet either." He rolled his eyes at the comment. Why would he lie about this, about something as important as cash? Yet he could see from their faces that they didn't believe him at all. Taehyung might have told them some shit in the past but this was most certainly not shit: it was the truth.

"Give me a few hours," he said as he held his hand out, palm downwards, "I promise I'll make some fucking cash, alright?" After a few seconds Jungkook added his hand on top without question and then Jimin copied him with a soft nod. "We're not done yet, the break hasn't even started yet. We're not slinking off back to Seoul like losers, like dogs with their tails between their fucking legs, we're gonna carry on with the adventure; aren't we?" And Namjoon added his hand onto the pile with a heavy sigh, closely followed by Hoseok. Yoongi tossed his cigarette aside and hesitated before adding his on top and then there was just Seokjin left. The eldest studied the pile for a few seconds before looking up at the skyline of the next city in front of them. He looked like he wanted to say something but just bit down on his lower lip instead and then he shifted his gaze to stare at him. Taehyung held his eyes confidently without a single blink.

"I hope you know what you're doing," Seokjin said with a weary voice as he added his hand on top.

"I never know what I'm doing," he retorted with a grin, and at least this made most of them smile. He pushed their hands up but there was no victory cheer. "Leave food to me, OK? I'll sort that shit out no problem. What we need to do is this: get into the city and find somewhere memorable, a statue, a building, a park, whatever. We're gonna split up and cover the place, meet back at certain hours say... 4pm and 11pm?" They all just shrugged or nodded at this. "We're gonna make the cash. I know we will."

"What if we can't?" Jimin asked in a quiet voice, eyes shifting around without rest because he didn't want to look at him. Taehyung reached over to throw his arm around his shoulders, pulling him close so that he could ruffle his hair roughly with his other hand. The boy put up with this for a few seconds before whining. "Seriously Tae, I'm just saying!"

"Don't say, it's gonna happen Dumbass!" He stopped ruffling his hair and Jimin reached up to try and flatten it again. "Kim Taehyung doesn't believe in giving up. What about you babies, huh?"

"The day I give up before Kim Taehyung is the day I fucking die!" Jungkook declared with a wide smirk. The other boy rapidly agreed with him so he messed up his hair again.

"I don't know," Hoseok said with a shrug, "I think you're talking shit."

"Would I talk shit to you, my dearest Hoseok?" Taehyung asked and his friend reached up to rub at his temples with a groan.

"You're giving your dearest a headache," he mumbled as he closed his eyes.

"You honestly think you can make 90,000₩ in a few hours?" Yoongi cocked his head and studied him closely so he nodded and announced that he could easily do it as he started walking along the road again. This time he heard them following after him. "How the fuck are you gonna do that, huh?"

"A true gentleman never reveals his secrets."

He swung his legs back and forth so that his boots hit the low brick wall with soft thumping noises. His friend's cap was in his hands and he fiddled with the fastener at the back, undoing it and redoing it so that the little plastic tabs popped in and out of the holes, or occasionally tapped his fingers along the brim in an offbeat rhythm with his boots. Hoseok studied the stitched logo above the brim intently for a moment before seeing a loose thread of white cotton hanging free, so he picked it between his thumb and forefinger and lightly tugged but it didn't snap free. He looked back up and along the street just in time to capture one of his friends rounding a corner to disappear out of sight, Jungkook judging from his height and the sullen way he was walking. A quick glance around him showed that he was alone, none of the others visible on any of the streets or sidewalks. Why, Taehyung was already halfway across the city most likely, on his way to mega riches if his bragging was anything to go by. No sign of the young men anywhere, nor Jimin who had went running off not a second after the other boy had finished sorting out the plans, as eager to please as always.

And here he was, sitting at the meetup spot of the coach station without a fucking clue what he was really supposed to do.

Hoseok blinked and Jungkook disappeared out of sight so he dropped his attention back to the baseball cap in his hands, once again turning it over to study it. That annoying little stray thread of cotton was still present and he wanted it gone yet another try just made it unravel a little more. Shit, he thought as he let go of it, I feel a little like that thread.

He hadn't woken up with a headache at all this morning, rather his head had felt rather light and pain-free unlike the previous day and he had been glad, not wanting to spend another day walking in the oppressive heat; having to listen to his friends - but mostly Taehyung - hollering about stupid shit and making it even worse. No, he had been looking forward to another day of fun and no throbbing agony shooting through his skull every time he took a step or turned his head a little too fast. The act of accidentally glancing at the sun would be enough to make his brain nearly combust and not even Namjoon's cap had been able to block it thoroughly enough. A day without a headache meant an entire day without the others staring at him when they thought he couldn't notice, out of the corners of eyes discreetly but not discreetly enough to rid him of the weight of their gazes on him. That was almost as relieving as the lack of headache.

But then the drama with the hostel had happened and had ruined everything.

Hoseok hadn't thought to even check his wallet that morning when he had been getting ready, not even possibly imagining that he would have opened it and found it completely empty: no notes, no coins, not even his bank card. Why the cards? It wasn't like they could hack them and yet they were gone too, causing even more trouble than needed for them all. It had been one of those strange moments in which he had felt strangely as if he wasn't in his own body but rather as if he was floating above himself, watching everything unfolding and unable to even blink. The owner had robbed them blind because he had known that there was nothing they could do about it, not able to call the police themselves nor risk him calling them if things had gotten violent. Yet he almost felt that they should have let Yoongi do something, kick his teeth in, break his nose, grab cash from the till that rightfully belonged to them and was in no way stealing, but they had stopped him. That was probably for the best, for he had never seen the young man get so angry before in his entire life. Yoongi could be very quick with his tongue, as the retort in Taehyung's cadence showed yesterday afternoon, but he never got angry enough to use his fists. He was all talk and threats and usually let someone talk him out of it, but not this time.

And because they had stopped him they were now stuck with just 70,000₩ or so and had been reduced to searching for spare change in the gutters and begging for slave labour jobs.

He picked at the thread again before something crossed his mind and he slowly lifted the cap up to study it. It looked almost like a bowl, a container in which money could be tossed, and that was when he felt an idea forming in his mind. Hoseok placed it back on his head and got off the wall, bending to retrieve his backpack and brushing his hands free of brick dust. The station was a few blocks from a nice hub of stores and when passing through it he had noticed a lot of them had been blaring music out of their open doors. It had irritated him earlier but now...now he needed the music. He hastily crossed a road to head back in the direction of the shopping area, unconsciously scanning heads just in case he caught sight of one of his friends. What were they doing to try and get cash? Searching for jobs? Begging? Stealing or gambling? Well, he had another idea entirely but whether or not he would end up earning any was another matter entirely.

He was going to busk, not by singing or playing an instrument, but rather by dancing.

Hoseok could feel the beginnings of a headache starting to develop, at his temples and behind his eyes so that there were twin twinges of pain. But right now he didn't have time to worry about such things like that, he needed to push it aside and think about only the cash. Taehyung was aiming for 90,000₩ or more in just a few hours, so he at least needed half of that just so the boy wouldn't brag his ass off. As he got closer to the shopping area his eyes scanned not only for his friends but also two different things: a place to set up and any uniforms that might reveal cops hanging around. He might pass for someone in college, he might still look like a high school kid and he didn't want to take that risk. That could really ruin the reunion with the others in a couple of hours. He carried on walking until he was outside a cosmetic store and then he decided that it was the right spot. An electronic song was pounding from the speakers inside and he nodded along to the rhythm for a moment to find the right beat. Then he dropped his bag to the side, slipped his cap off and placed it down and got into position. A few people slowed down to look but most carried on walking without a care. As the beat dropped he started dancing and that was when heads really turned.

Hoseok had always had a great interest in dance and he had been told that he was pretty damn good at it, enough to even be an 'idol' Jimin had once declared with great enthusiasm. He was certainly good enough to make strangers crowd around to watch. Though he zoned out and just concentrated on the beat and his own steps he did catch sight of a few cellphones slipping free of purses and pockets to stay in the hands of young women and girls, all of them staring with great interest or tittering to friends behind hands. But it wasn't just girls, quite a few men stopped to stare and he could hear them making appreciative noises under their breath as he popped and locked, twisted and dropped with the fast and manic beat of the dubstep piece. People seemed to realise what the cap was for and a few dropped handfuls of coins or a note or two in during the several minutes in which he performed, and when the music stopped and he held a finishing pose there was quite a scattering of applause and a cheer or two.

As he grabbed his bag and shrugged it up onto his shoulder a particularly brave girl approached him and asked him if he was a trainee, what company he belonged to, and he just laughed and told her none as he picked the cap up and started walking down the street again. He couldn't stay in the same spot for long just to avoid police showing or causing a disturbance in front of the stores, but also to keep his chances of making more cash fresh.

He wasn't wearing his coat in the heat, it was shoved inside his backpack and weighing it down considerably, and it was a good thing because he could feel himself starting to perspire from the sun and the exertion; brow and hairline beaded with sweat. He brushed it free with a sigh and reached into the cap to check his earnings.

13,800₩ for his first attempt, not bad at all.

Hoseok shoved the notes into his pocket and the coins into a compartment in his bag to stop them falling free during his dancing. He couldn't guarantee that he would get that much next time, or any money at all, but it was worth a shot. His aching head wouldn't let him dance for too long and he was running low on water, but he might just reach his halfway target after all.

He slipped the cap back on his head and carried on walking until he found his next spot.

The stack of fliers were in his hand and they didn't seem to be getting any smaller. Jimin had stuck them in windows, under windshield wipers before drivers caught him and tried to kick his ass, into passing hands only to see them dropped on the floor seconds later. At least he might be able to get a job cleaning all of them up again but he doubted it. He wouldn't even call this current attempt a job yet he would at least get cash at the end. It wouldn't be more than 5,530₩ most likely but for an hour's work it wasn't too bad. It was at least enough to buy a some food with, and if he kept adding the little cash amounts up then he might just be able to get a nice amount saved together. Not as much as his friends of course, he would never get that much, but at least he could make some and not look completely useless.

Jimin hadn't known that his friends had been carrying that much cash with them over the days they had been on the road. Though things had been paid for, mostly with the youngest contributing a little and the eldest covering most of the costs, he hadn't really been paying it all that much attention. It wasn't that he had forgotten, but rather it had just slipped his mind that they had had a budget before their money had been stolen, and that they well and truly relied on it to get by. Taehyung had declared how easy it was to live on the streets without cash but he wasn't so certain, mostly because he had never ran away from home before like the other boy. He had the most experience of course, because not even Jungkook had went more than four days before slinking back home, never mind four solid weeks out on the streets. That meant that they had no choice but to believe him and though Jimin was desperately hoping that it was the case he wasn't very certain that that was the case. It seemed to be too good to be true and their luck hadn't been stellar so far.

Jimin sighed and once again tacked a poster in the corner of a hairdressers window before moving on. The pile in his hand was still sizable but he would find a way of dispersing them somehow, even if that meant climbing to the top of an apartment block and tossing them into the air to be carried away with the wind; all the way across to Japan if possible. He grabbed another one and eyed it wearily as he prepared to stick it in another window. Deep purple sheet of paper with the club title in bold golden print, photograph of an extremely attractive and daringly dressed lady. He doubted that she worked there and briefly wondered if she was an idol whose photo had been appropriated for the cheap dive club. It declared deals on shots and even advertised 'hot and sexy live dancers.' Jimin was pretty certain that only one of those adjectives was needed but whatever, it wasn't his job to make the stupid fliers but instead just litter the city with them. He was so into his musings that he didn't notice the uneven paving flag until his boot caught on it and he tripped up, arms flailing so that the fliers flew out of his hand and...

landed in a puddle right in an alley entrance.

"Shit!" Jimin groaned, even when a passing elderly lady glared at him. The pile practically absorbed the puddle in seconds and when he prodded it with the toes of his boot it squelched like a sponge. He had had one simple job to do and he couldn't even do that. He'd get the terrible pay for this particular job and then he was done, he'd find something else to do instead of this. Even if it meant scrubbing toilets on his hands and knees he would accept it. He shrugged his backpack up onto his shoulders more securely and then started walking back the way he had come from, in the direction that led to the bustling club area. The place was literally only opening tonight so the decent amount of fliers he had managed to stick to windows and had handed around would probably help them out. Probably...

It took him nearly twenty minutes of solid walking to get back to the building and in that time he had checked every window and door for any signs that might mean a quick job for quick cash. He saw none, which meant that he was back to inquiring and sticking his head through open doors with his cutest smile in the hopes of it working. When Jimin got to the building he went down the alley to the back entrance and went inside, descending the slight steps to get to the basement level which served as the main area. He crossed it to get to the bar on the very far wall and quickly scanned the wide room to see that it was being stocked by a handful of men and women, and the woman he assumed to be the owner called him over with a smile. He had been anticipating an interrogation over the fliers and yet she just handed him some cash with that same smile and informed him that there were a good couple more piles of fliers left if he was interested. Jimin caught sight of the time on the clock behind the counter and explained that he had to go but that he might just be back and she thanked him before moving along the bar to help prepare tables and stools. He got out onto the street and quickly checked the pay before shoving it into his jeans pocket. 6,800₩, not bad, but not great either.

He realised how far from the coach station he was and that he was nearly going to be be late and he did the only thing he could think of: he started running down the street regardless of stares, sticking close to the curb to avoid the traffic of bodies on the sidewalks. He barely even stopped for cars and rather just raced across roads before the lights had even changed colour, knowing it was dangerous as he heard the blare of horns and shouted curses but not particularly caring because he was fast enough to not get hit. His backpack weighed him down as it jostled on his shoulders and he just grabbed onto the straps and carried on running. By the time he saw the station coming up there was a sharp stitch in his side but at least he would be able to catch his breath in a minute or so. Jimin jogged the last stretch of road and as he got close he heard the unmistakable sound of Jungkook cheering.

"Dumbass is alive! He didn't get hit by a car without us to help him cross the roads!"

"Fuck you!" he called back as he scaled the chain link fence to get on the other side, so that he was in the lot with the other boys. "I was crossing roads long before you Kookie."

"Wow, such a great achievement." The boy smirked at him and a quick head count showed everyone present and accounted for besides Taehyung. Jimin sat down with an exhausted sigh and stretched his legs out as he leaned back on his wrists. The tarmac was hot against his palms from the summer sun. He asked about the other boy and got a variety of shrugs and no real answers. Everyone looked tired already and it had only been a few hours. He scanned the lot to see a handful of coaches parked across it and he was about to open his mouth and say something mundane when there was a sudden clanging noise and when he turned to look over his shoulder he saw the elusive boy climbing the fence to drop down with a thump as his boots hit the lot ground.

"Here's Mr. Buffet himself," Yoongi said with a sarcastic smile, "with his bags of cash." The boy shrugged his backpack off and pulled a bright yellow bag out: no doubt a convenience store one at first glance. He sat down in their impromptu formation and completed the loose circle.

"Dinner is served," Taehyung announced as he upended the bag and let the contents fall out. "Kinda. Not the greatest but uh-"

"Where did you get all of this?" Seokjin asked as he stared at the mountain.

"Bought most of it," he replied nonchalantly, "lifted the rest. You're looking at roughly 17,000₩ spent so far out of my earnings."

"How much would that be exactly?" Hoseok rubbed at his forehead gingerly before dropping his hand back to his lap.

"42,6...no 700₩," Taehyung started tossing packets of food at them, basic junk because it was the cheapest and only thing they could afford right now.

"Seriously?" Seokjin asked, tone revealing that he wasn't just in disbelief but maybe also in awe. The boy reached into his boot and pulled out a handful of notes, shoving them into Jimin's hand so that he could count, making sure to specify that there were also a dozen or so coins stashed into his pockets too. He flicked through them before laughing under his breath.

"This son of a bitch..."

"Damn, I really did underestimate you," Namjoon said with a head shake.

"How's everyone else doing, huh?" And as they hastily devoured the junk food chips and dried meats, sharing sodas that the boy had bought or possibly stolen, they all explained how their pockets were starting to fill up and pulling out notes and coins to count as they did. Yoongi had managed to snag a dish-washing role in a café right before the busy lunch rush and had worked three solid hours to make just 12,800₩ so far, but he added that he was eyeing up a few more possible jobs to get right back into it. Seokjin had helped an elderly lady with her food stall in a market, making sure to mention that she had told him his handsome face would bring in more customers, earning 17,000₩ over the course of the morning and early afternoon. Hoseok had busked a few times and had earned 19,600₩ to his name but judging from his current haggard appearance he wouldn't be dancing much longer. Jungkook had managed to snag a night singing in a bar that had a vacancy to fill and had been looking for something to spend the morning hours on to no avail, so Jimin had told him about the club and the piles of fliers and he said that he would hit it up. Namjoon had helped clean a local park free of graffiti and litter for just 15,300₩ and Jimin felt rather dumb admitting that he had only managed to collect 6,800₩ so far. He had only managed to find hour's work but he felt rather useless regardless.

"See," Taehyung said with a grin, "the cash really is adding up." He mock toasted them with his bottle of cola and they only mumbled in agreement. It was adding up, maybe only enough to last a day or so on top of this one, but adding up nonetheless. "We'll be fucking rich in no time."

"Hey," Namjoon turned to look right at him and Jimin looked back curiously. "I was on my way to the park when I noticed something. A scrapyard not far from it, maybe a block or so. Might need a little help, you know?"

"What, you think I can help?"

"You totally could."

"Joonie's right," Yoongi said with a nod, "you could earn a pretty good amount fixing things or taking 'em apart."

"I dunno, I'm pretty clumsy, I might-"

"You can help," the young man continued over him, "'cos you're really good with that shit." Jimin dropped his eyes to the pile of empty packets and bottles in front of them for a moment. "And I know you can do it."

"...Really?" He asked as he looked up at him.

"Really really." Yoongi confirmed with a smile and he let out a laugh and felt an embarrassed blush on his cheeks. It wasn't often that he was complimented and he rather enjoyed it a lot. Seokjin gathered all of the trash together and shoved it back into the yellow plastic store bag and it seemed like a sign to get moving. Namjoon offered to walk him to the scrapyard and so Jimin scaled the fence after him as the others got to their feet and stretched with sighs and tired groans.

Time to get back to work.

When he checked his watch again he saw that it was 8pm and Namjoon let out a heavy sigh. Every muscle in his body seemed to be aching, particularly all the way up his back from the lower to his shoulders, which he had been using rather vigorously to scrub at park benches. Removing graffiti that had been drawn on with marker pens or spray cans of paint: curse words, crude doodles, names and declarations of love with various years and acronyms underneath; I.D.A.T. being the most popular: if destroyed, always true. Well, he had certainly tried his hardest to destroy all of it before moving onto the next task, and that had been his morning and early afternoon hours all worked away. It had been hard work, not the kind that resulted in feelings of fulfillment and pride but rather drained him of most of his energy. 25,500₩ earned in total after finishing up after the rushed lunch break and then back to the streets to wander and search but to no luck; instead left handing out fliers just like Jimin had before he had helped him snag some work at the scrapyard. He hoped the boy managed to earn more because he had looked rather downtrodden earlier, embarrassed at the little money he had gotten. He wanted to remind him just how hard he was working, how hard they were all working, and that he was doing good regardless.

Taehyung's cash was stored in his left pocket to keep it separate from the rest. He probably should have handed it back earlier but it hadn't even crossed his mind. The boy had technically earned the amount back during the morning, having to spend a little of it on food, and he knew that meant one thing. It meant that the boy had been stealing again. It was no shock or surprise, Taehyung stole pretty much everything he could to save spending a couple of thousand won and he knew that he sold a lot of shit along for an instant profit. He knew what to steal, mostly medication he could palm off nice and easy, the cheap addictive shit like painkillers and sleeping tablets rather than the good stuff. Cigarettes he could grab from newspaper kiosks with a quick snatch of the the wrist before anyone noticed, anything slight enough to fit into his pockets like phone chargers and makeup palettes. The boy was good, really good, but he risked a lot every single time he lifted something and he was worried that he was going to get arrested. They wouldn't know, they wouldn't have a clue because he would just disappear without a single warning and leave them all hanging around in confusion.

But if he made the cash...well, it wasn't like he was going to stop him.

Namjoon kicked a crushed energy drink can off the sidewalk and into the gutter, hands shoved in his pockets as he strolled down the streets. He kept his eyes trained for anything that might mean a quick bit of cash: whether it be handing out political fliers for parties he didn't even know existed, washing dishes or toilets, anything at all. All he saw was neon flashing tubes on the sides of buildings, massive billboards with smiling women with flawless skin and teeth as they held up bottles of water or perfume, the constant flashing of headlights of the traffic-packed roads beside him. It wasn't very dark, rather the sky was a purple that darkened with the passing minutes and the burnt ochre just visible behind skyscraper buildings showed that the sun was in the midst of setting. Not long left of the day but he needed that little bit more, a little kick, to make it feel like the hard work was completely warranted. But it wasn't as easy as Taehyung had claimed this morning at all. Cash could be made but hours were needed to do so. It seemed that the city was just coming to life at this hour, likely because the night market stalls, bars and clubs were open for business and appealed to any tourists. Did that mean more chances of work? Serving shots in a bar? Possibly, but entering one and trying to locate an owner before the doors let patrons in would prove a little difficult. What were the boys doing right now? He hoped they were staying out of trouble, hopefully indoors at least rather than on the streets where danger might lurk. They didn't need to be robbed again after what had happened today.

He was passing a small building that looked like a bar when he noticed a man smoking on the slight step outside of it, a man that looked a little like Choi: a bouncer. He was wearing a suit with the top buttons of his shirt undone and he had the 'look' about him, one that caught his eye.

"Hey," Namjoon called out, "know a place where a man can make a little cash?"

"I do," the man replied as he slipped the stick free and breathed smoke out of his nose in twin plumes. "But it depends. How old are you?" He told him he was twenty, the added year lie rolling off his tongue surprisingly easy, and he looked him up and down slowly before taking another drag on the stick. "You got a couple of thousand won in your pocket than you could make a lot of cash in here."

"Oh yeah? What's on offer?"

"Cards, machines, bets," the man didn't stub the stick out but rather just tossed the cigarette on the ground with a flick of his fingers, "you interested?"

Namjoon thought this over for a moment. He had a little earning that he really could make a lot more, but it was a risk. He could waste it all, could meet the others empty handed and they would know that he had gambled it all away like an idiot. He could make a killing or they could kill him. But imagine how they would react if he showed up at the coach station again in a few hours with a bundle of notes in hand? It was enough to make him feel a little rush of excitement, hands nearly shaking in his hoodie pockets.

"Yeah," he said after a few seconds, "I'm interested."

There was the scent of cigarette smoke covering most of the other scents, the tang of alcohol and the heady aromas of feminine perfume that seemed to cling to the air. It was a rather classy-looking bar considering most of the dives Jungkook had passed earlier in the day and Jungkook was surprised that he was even allowed inside, never mind able to play music on the tiny corner stage. He was out of the way at least, hidden in the corner lit only be a single stage light. He had been tinkling the piano keys for a few minutes now, following the notes on the paper without much care because he knew this particular piece by heart almost. He had played it enough times in music class and additional lessons to have memorised it all, fingers quickly moving along the keys and thumbs pressing down hard. He had no clue who had been booked originally but the set in front of him consisted of a couple of instrumentals and songs that seemed better suited to female vocals than male. He knew a few but not all of them and so he had had to replace some of them with other pieces, thankful that he hadn't fucked up the minute long audition the owner had given him through nerves. Truthfully he hadn't been nervous at all because he didn't get stage fright, but performing in high school recitals for free wasn't the same as trying to earn cash to make sure that he and his friends weren't sleeping in a park for the night. It meant playing as well as he could, even if it given only ten seconds to warm up his voice whilst the man had stared at him and waited impatiently, practically tapping his foot on the wooden flooring, but when he had actually started he had shown a great interest. And when he had finished one of the female workers cleaning down the counter had paused and had given him an applause with a wide smile. That had been the sign he had needed to know that he managed to secure the opening for the night.

He eyed the sheet for a few seconds before moving his left hand further down the scale.

Jungkook knew that he probably wouldn't even get half of the wage for the bill but even that much was better than nothing, better than cleaning the gutters like a criminal doing community service for a couple of thousand won and having passing pedestrians stare at him: the kid that should have been in school on his knees in week old litter. Well, he was pretty damn certain that he wouldn't be getting stared at much longer because this was the last day of school before the break and soon the streets would be packed with kids. Which meant no more thieving hostel owners and having to avoid the police because they were ditching. No, they had every right to be out on the roads and so long as Taehyung wasn't lugging half a liquor store's worth of beer in his backpack they were perfectly entitled to call the cops should the need arise. He was hoping that it wouldn't but he wouldn't be willing to bet on it. Was Namjoon betting right now? Probably, but he seemed to have better luck than the rest of them so he was likely faring rather well, and if he lost some cash well...nothing ventured, nothing gained. At least he had tried something.

When he next checked the sheet he saw that he was nearing the last bar so he added a little flourish on the end like always and as the last key tinkled there was some applause from across the bar. He turned to the next sheet and spared a quick glance over the interior. Quite a lot of business men and women visible, some in smart office clothing and others dressed up more finely. In the lights he saw the unmistakable flash of expensive watches and jewelry, stones catching light and sparkling just like Venus had been that night in the trainyard. A few faces looking back at him likely anticipating the next opening bars of music. He shifted on the stool to play again when he heard a voice calling out from just a few feet away.

"Excuse me?" He looked back over his shoulder to see a young woman right at the edge of the slight stage. Very pretty, tight black dress that matched her sleek hair.

"Yeah?"

"Could you play a song for me again?" she asked with a smile that parted her red lips. "You see 'Close to You' was the song playing when my fiance proposed to me and you sang it so beautifully that I..." She paused for a moment before holding up a note. "I'd be happy to tip you to sing it again."

"Uh...sure, I'd be happy to." Jungkook flicked back to the sheet for the song and stretched his fingers for a few seconds. "End the night with a song, huh?" She nodded slightly before shifting to sit at a free table close to the stage to watch him. He wet his lips, took a deep breath, and then started playing the piano again. He forced himself to keep his eyes on the sheet or his fingers and not look across the bar but he risked a glance up once or twice to see her watching him with a soft smile on her lips, and even a couple of people were slow dancing across the bar in a space between tables. He wondered what his friends would think if they were in the bar right now? Would they be wracked with embarrassment like they were every time Seokjin tried to rap? Would they be surprised and maybe impressed? Though he had no way of telling he thought that they might just be impressed enough to give an applause too. Why, Taehyung might just jump on the tables, followed by Jimin who would no doubt fall off in his excitement seconds later. When he was finished again there was a brief moment of silence and then another applause; the loudest one yet. He was a little shocked by it and as he got to the bottom of the stage the young woman came over to press the note into his hand before he could possibly tell her that he didn't want the tip.

"Um, thank yo-"

"No, thank you," she said before going back across the bar. He watched her going dumbly before looking across the room and the owner was standing in an open doorway behind the counter looking at him. The man gestured at him so he ducked under the counter and followed him into the small storage area.

"Did pretty damn well for a high school kid," he remarked and Jungkook just waited for him to continue without saying anything in return. "First time I've heard an applause here in...months."

"Thank you."

"Fair to say that you earned this," the owner held out a roll of bills to him so he accepted it, "and if you're ever in need of more I won't say no to you kid, but I'll bet your parents will." Jungkook, whose parents probably thought he was on the streets of Seoul hanging around with the homeless like usual and not in another city entirely, just laughed softly in fake agreement. "You're going home now, right?"

"I'm staying with friends, we're going on a...trip for the break."

"Then be careful out there until you meet up with them. People will try and rob you blind so no walking down alleys, alright kid?" He nodded and didn't feel the need to mention his friends had practically been robbed of cash already today. "I'm serious, heck I'd even open another live night just for you to come in and entertain, the patrons seem to love you."

"Thank you, you might just see me again," Jungkook said with a smile as his eyes landed on the clock across the room. Running late, very late, so he excused himself and left the bar at a quick walk as he exited to get out into the alley. He was about to start running when his boot kicked something and it skittered across the ground. He dropped his gaze to see a black rectangle and when he reached down to retrieve it he felt the familiar sensation of leather against the fingers. A wallet. There was a wallet in his hands and he instinctively opened it to look at the I.D.

Decent amount of notes inside.

Jungkook glanced up and down the alley but no sight of anyone. No one could see him holding the lost wallet that didn't belong to him, one with cash in that could really come in handy right now. I shouldn't take it, he thought as he ran his thumb along the leather, 'cos that makes me no different from the hostel owner.

"Is it really stealing?" he asked himself under his breath as he looked at it, voice barely above a whisper. "Finders keepers..." he scoffed, "is such a childish thing to say." There was a corner of something sticking out from the inner compartment behind the I.D. so grabbed it and pulled it free to see a Polaroid shot of two little kids: boy and girl.

It's the wrong thing to do, he has a family...

but someone else will probably rob him anyway.

That doesn't excuse my actions at all and I know it. Look at those kids, the cash isn't mine, they need it. Just leave the fucking thing and walk away.

But...

"I have a family too," Jungkook said before shoving the Polaroid back inside. Then, before he could talk himself out of it, he slipped the notes out and shoved them down inside his boot with the rest of his money. The wallet was tossed unceremoniously back onto the floor where he had found it and he carried on walking down the alley without looking back over his shoulder.

When Seokjin stepped out onto the street Yoongi was sitting on the curb, as recognisable by his red hair as he was by the waft of cigarette smoke floating into the air around his head. He took a moment to study him before walking the few feet of pavement to nudge him with the toes of his boot. His friend grumbled about his back, even reaching down to rub at it, and he just bent down and dragged him to his feet.

"You sound like my grandpa." Seokjin laughed as the young man fixed with tee with a huff, ash falling off the end of the stick as he did. "And guess what, he's dead."

"You'll be dead too if you do that again," his friend intoned but it was useless. The threat might have worked on anyone else but not on him. "Wait, your grandpa's dead, since when?"

"Yoongi, he's been dead for five years, you came to the funeral remember?"

"Oh shit, yeah," he pulled the stick free for a second to wet his lips, tip of his tongue darting out slightly. "I do remember. I'm that tired that my brain feels like it's melting, OK? So just ignore me." Seokjin didn't feel that much better and he could only silently agree with him. College work might have been brain-numbing to the point of nearly painful but it wasn't the same as this. The work over the day had been frantic and stressful and his back was hurting a little too from constantly standing and running around with little breaks. Is this what Taehyung went through most days? Was this the price to pay for running away from home? How had he managed to put up with it day-in, day-out? The boy was deserving of quite some respect it would seem. "Still gonna brag about your handsome face now you're stuck cleaning dishes like the rest of the ugly kids?"

"Well, I was washing them with you," he pointed out as they started walking down the empty street. From the blocks behind them came the pounding of music from clubs, the drone of traffic and voices signalling that the nightlife had started to thrive. Yoongi forced a laugh at the remark that quickly evolved into a cough. "Uh-oh, you need to start cutting down," he tutted disapprovingly, "and what better time to start than when we're all broke and can't afford to buy any."

"I'd beg Tae to steal me some," his friend replied without missing a beat. "I mean Jin, I'm really not proud to admit this but...I'd suck dick for a packet of cigarettes, alright."

"What a good idea! Why not make a little extra so we don't have to sleep on the streets tonight?"

"Says the pretty one," Yoongi retorted, smoke pluming out of his nose. "Guys might actually pay you but me? I'd have to pay 'em." At this wisecrack Seokjin snorted laughter and the corners of the other man's lips twitched into a smile. "But let's not joke about shit like that, we're not that desperate and I don't wanna give the kids any bad fucking ideas." Yoongi tossed the used-up butt into the gutter and let the last drag out with a heavy sigh. "I'd rather the little assholes sold drugs, at least that's less dangerous."

"Tae's already ahead of you," he muttered, "selling aspirin and other pills because he can make a couple of thousand won on them." He felt his friend's eyes on him and he just looked straight ahead as they walked. "If he could get the strong stuff he'd lift it and sell that too."

"You serious?" He nodded and his friend could only make a series of annoyed noises under his breath. The coach station wasn't too far from their location, just several minutes of walking, and he was hoping to get there quickly just so that any of the others wouldn't be waiting on their own in the dark. They walked in silence for a block and then Yoongi broke it in a quiet voice. "I know I joked about the cigarettes but really, the kid can't keep doing shit like that. He can't live like that his entire life. A couple of weeks, yeah whatever, but...ten years down the line?" He was right, completely right, but there was very little they could say to the boy now. Maybe when it was all over and they were back home in Seoul they could talk to him about his bad habit. Maybe it would even get through to Taehyung if they tried hard enough. Before he resorted to things a lot worst than fobbing cheap painkillers off to soft addicts on street corners.

As they got closer to the station they saw that it was lit up and people were moving around inside, no doubt getting prepared for a ride on a night coach, perhaps to get to the capital or as far down as Busan. People with holdalls just like them but not wearing the same pairs of jeans for four days straight now. Not like them. On the street outside there was a single bench and he could see two forms sitting on it and after a moment he discerned that it was Hoseok and Jimin, the former with his legs stretched out in front of him and the latter with his legs folded up on the bench, both bags shoved out of the way underneath it. In the time that it took for them to reach the station Jungkook came running around a corner and nearly slammed right into him.

"Kookie's ass is on fire," Yoongi declared as the boy bent over to catch his breath. "What's the rush?"

"I've been running...all over this...fucking city so I...wouldn't delay you all."

"Still waiting on Tae and Namjoon!" Hoseok called from the bench and Jimin shifted to let the other young man sit down on the end of the bench to save him complaining about his back. "You're not late at all." The boy straightened up and then moved to sit on the pavement just in front of the bench, and so Seokjin joined him, relishing the fact he was finally no longer on his feet even if it meant sitting on the cold hard stone. "Any luck?" The question was aimed at their youngest friend and the boy grinned before slipped a handful of notes out.

"You know I got it."

"You got that much in tips alone?" Jungkook shoved it back into his boot but he didn't hold Hoseok's gaze entirely when he nodded. "Damn..."

"Tae's got competition," Yoongi remarked before asking Jimin how he had fared. The boy said that he hadn't counted his cash just yet but it was a better amount out fliers any day, wide smile on his face as he did. "We're just waiting on the return of Joonie and the prodigal son to knock us all dead."

It took maybe fifteen minutes before Taehyung finally showed and in that time they pooled all of the cash together and discovered that they had 136,500₩, which might not have been much but combined with Jungkook's 30,000 already and the other boy's presumed 34,000 from this morning and the rest he and Namjoon likely had made, they were nearly back at the amount that they had had before getting robbed. In terms of a single day it was pretty damn impressive and Seokjin was actually amazed. When Taehyung came strolling down the street he did so with confidence in his gait, backpack jostling with every step. That was a good sign, a really good sign.

"I didn't get 90,000," he said as he grabbed hold of a streetlamp and leaned against it. "I got...108,000₩." When they all loudly exclaimed and demanded proof he pulled a roll out of his boot, held together with a broken hair slide rather than a money clip, and Seokjin rapidly counted it before declaring that he did indeed have that amount, allowing bonus for a couple of hundred in coins in his pockets. Taehyung started laughing and proceeded to dance around the post, swinging off it like a monkey. "Am I good or am I fucking good, huh?"

"Fucking good," Jimin said before grinning, "real fucking good."

"Time for a celebration, who wants some soju-"

Taehyung was just about to shrug his backpack off to no doubt pull out a bottle of soju when there was a sudden rumble of an engine and a car rolled down the street before pulling up right in front of them on the curb. For a few seconds they all just stared at it dumbly and then the driver-seat window unrolled and Namjoon's head popped out.

"Sorry I'm late," he called with a wide smirk, "but I think this makes up for it, huh?"