“The car’s a piece of junk anyway, they’re not gonna miss it.”
he’s staring at sanggil like he’s a crazy ass motherfucker. and maybe he is. jungkook doesn’t know the guy that well– hell, they could even be called strangers right there. there’s some sort of anonymity that sits between them, thrives anxiously in the way that jungkook looks at him through the film of his eyes. his hands are twisting, clenching, and unclenching; not shaking, for which he is thankful. “jesus fuck it’s like everybody is living that fucking gta life now.” he gives sanggil one last look, then he’s running over to the other side, unlocking the car door and tossing his bag in before he gets in himself. his skateboard hits him on the knee, but there were more pressing issues– such as sanggil stealing a car like it was nobody’s business. where does he even find these people?
“dude, if you’re gonna start driving it’s best you start now.”
