vớ vẩn 2

chap 9 - Talking Shit

Namjoon rolled over and for a brief moment he was aware of the fact that he was falling, that he had fallen out of bed and he was going to hit the floor...except he didn't. His head did slam on something, something hard but not the carpeted floor of a hostel and rather cold and metallic. He fumbled his hands along the floor and then he remembered where he was, where they all were. They were inside a train, not riding like passengers because that was too normal for them. They had hitched a ride in a freight carriage and slept inside it like vagabonds, like a ragtag bunch of Tom Sawyers going on an adventure. No, he thought with a smile, we're 'The Railway Children' instead. This was enough to make him laugh to himself and so he opened his eyes and scanned across the interior.

Namjoon had been lying against the wall the door was on and though he couldn't see out of it without twisting around he could see that it was morning because the sun was coming through the gap and illuminating the interior. Unlike yesterday evening he could see it all with a clarity, no dark corners hidden away. He shifted to sit upright and glanced back to see that he had rolled off his holdall, the one that he had been using as a pillow during the night. There was a soft dent where his head had been, the canvas wrinkled deeply. He reached over to smooth this out and then turned to look back across the carriage. The floor was metal and covered in dust, patches clean here and there from where they had been sitting and meaning that they would have filthy clothing as a result. When he eyed his own hands he saw dirt coating his palms and stuck in the grooves of his skin so he hastily wiped them on his jeans before rubbing at his heavy eyelids. He yawned and then rolled his shoulders a few times to try and loosen his tight muscles. His neck felt a little stiff and it was no surprise, he had been lying in a very uncomfortable position. It was a miracle that he could even turn his head. The walls were corrugated sheets of metal, not smooth but rather bumped across the length like store shutters. Unpainted and rusted in parts so that the copper coloured stains looked like mold, it was hard to tell if the carriage was worn down from age or whether it was new and just so frequently used that it had been damaged from the constant packing and unpacking of goods. Perhaps the dust hinted at the former but he couldn't be too certain.

To his right and across the carriage he could see most of his friends and they seemed to be asleep. They were in a sort of line, holdalls and backpacks as pillows, coats and jackets as makeshift blankets that covered their arms and chest, heads visible above the black wool and khaki polyester material. Seokjin was on the right end, lying on his side so that he was facing the wall, light brown hair fanned out on his bag. Beside him was Jungkook, lying so they were back to back and sharing his coat. Unlike Seokjin his own dark hair was messily sticking up in places because he had likely tossed and turned a lot in his sleep. Lying beside him and on his back was Jimin, head on a slight angle and one arm peeping out from under Yoongi's jacket. He looked deep in slumber, chest rising and falling with soft exhales. Next came Yoongi and he was lying on his side. He had nothing as a blanket but the carriage wasn't particularly cold and rather warm right now. The young man had his arms folded in front of his chest, skin not too different in tone from his white cotton tee. The sunlight coming in through the open doorway fell on his face, making his red hair almost glow. There was quite a space between him and the other wall and yet the two other boys were not lying with the group. Namjoon turned his head and sure enough he located them in the corner of the carriage directly opposite him. They had probably been uncomfortable with the original position and had moved to stretch out instead and he couldn't blame them. It was likely a little stifling and cramped being crushed together like that, just like the back of the car and-

The car.

Namjoon took a deep breath and let it out in a heavy sigh as he closed his eyes. The car, the stupid car that they were supposed to be riding in, that was to get them along all of those annoying roads and save them so much time and energy. The stupid goddamn car that was now abandoned in the middle of nowhere, left to rust and smoke like a corpse to rot in the woods. He couldn't believe that the vehicle had only lasted a single day before dying on them when it had looked so good upon first glance. The interior and exterior had looked pretty damn good to his eyes and he had had every reason to believe that it would run good too, but he had been wrong. He felt foolish for expecting it to work, for being hopeful and also a little jubilant about it, but it had went wrong and it wasn't that much of a shock at all. He supposed it was only a matter of time until it had broken down and that it was probably for the best in the end. It was very risky for them to drive through a city. Out on the empty roads between cities with hardly any vehicles passing them by meant little chances of a police siren sounding, lights flashing in the rear view mirror and forcing them to pull over. Why, it had saved them the trouble of being arrested by breaking down in the middle of nowhere like that. But still...