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Suga’s first interpretation of the new town was small. It wasn’t a big town by any means, but at the same time it seemed so full of life and- personality. The shops were crammed close together in the crowded streets. Music played from every corner and crevice of the municipality. The people were all loud and embracing as well. Many times since moving here he had run into loud boisterous people on the streets, in the shops and around his neighborhood. He had only lived here a week and he had been around so much noise that he would happily never listen to another elvis song in his whole life as long as he could help it.
He didn’t much care for the attention, and was happily resigned to his new room for the first week of summer. He had a new collection of books that he had bought with his mom when she had begged him to come along with him to the bookstore at the edge of the township. He hadn’t much minded going with her since he was curious to see some of the new town. The bookstore was quite comforting. It was a small one room building but it had a pleasant homey feel to it. Every nook and crannie was taken up with shelves, books, maps etc. Not to mention the sweet tan boy who worked there. He had a rough look around him, slicked back hair, a leather jacket with the word ‘aristocrats’ embroidered on the back, and dirty converse. But despite his look he had a genuine sheepish smile that made Suga feel all happy and warm inside. He couldn’t help but feel a light twitter at the soft brown eyes.
It had been about a week and a half when it happened. His mom had asked him to pick something up from the store for dinner. He had no trouble getting there to pick up what she needed but on his way back he was stopped. The boy had such a dazzling smile Suga thought he might be blinded. He had an obvious confident sort of charm around him that set Suga on edge.
He just stared at Suga for a second before the strangest thing popped out of his mouth, “You’re really cute!”
Suga of course was too shocked to say anything.
“What do you think boys?” the cheerful boy with the pink and black jacket asked.
Oh no, Suga thought. Please don’t be what I think this is. Just then a few more- four, he counted, came out of nowhere. He gulped. Not only were they all extremely attractive, emphasis on attractive. He caught the lettering on one of the jackets. It read in bright bubble gum pink cursive ‘pretty boys’ that stood out starkly against the deep black. What was with the jackets in this town?
“Yea,” another boy- this one with creamy tan skin and ruffled dark bed-hair like downy feathers said nonchalantly, titled his head to the side a little.
The boy from before looked at him with an amused expression. “He looks scared,” He laughed.
“Probably because you guys are acting like you’re gonna eat him,” another kid said, this one looked a couple years younger than the others, with longish flan like hair, he had a kind of innocence about him that made Suga feel at ease.
“Well why don’t we introduce ourselves,” the last one grumbled. This one with messy blue black hair, and an intimidating look on his face. Suga couldn’t help but think that these boys had never seen a comb in their lives. “Hey,” The black haired boy continued, shoving his hand out to shake, “I’m Kageyama.”
The next few words out of the blueberry haired boy confused him immensely. It wasn’t everyday you were asked to join someone’s ‘gang.’
“Y-you want me to what?” he asks, tragically lost in where this conversation was going.
“Yea,” the first boy said, leaning an elbow against the ruffley one who moved away from him. “You heard him.”
Suga had no idea what they meant by gang but he definitely didn’t want any part in this. He began to back away from the unreasonably attractive gang.
“Hey-” the boy said, holding his hands out in a ‘stop’ gesture.”Listen here cube, now us here’s the ginchiest boys around this antsville, and you don’t look the type to have many friends, so what do you say? You join our group, we give you a cool jacket and then you have friends and never get another wedgie for as long as you’s gonna live.”
Suga stopped. Did he want friends? Were these the kind to associate yourself with? They didn’t look much trouble but he wasn’t sure. “I-i’m not so sure,” he stuttered, I don’t even know your names, and i’m not that cool- you know cool enough to be in a gang I mean, and y’know I gotta get home to my mom before she worries because of course we’re new here and she doesn’t like me wondering off and-” his rambling was cut off.
“Cut the gas hot stuff!” the boy laughed, “Im Oikawa.” he pointed to the ruffled boy,”This here is Akaashi,” the flan boy,”Kenma,” blueberry kid,” and you met Kags.” He flipped his fingers along the collar of his jacket. “Now us here is the Pretty Boys, we got a rep here and we ain’t about to blow it because we got turned down by a new square with no friends, ya dig?”
Suga gulped and nodded.
“Alright then,” Oikawa said. “So how about you meet us at the diner down the street,”Sakanoshita’s, 5:30?”
Suga nodded quickly. “Okay-” He squeaked.
“Cool, we’ll discuss it then,” Oikawa nodded his head in one curt move they all got the message and turned to leave,”See ya then kid,” Oikawa winked.
Normally he would have protested that someone obviously his age shouldn’t call him ‘kid’ but he didn’t.
It was 4:23 and Suga still hadn’t made up his mind on whether or not to hide in the cupboard for the rest of his life or go meet the strange boys from before. He really didn’t have friends and though the boys seemed a little eccentric it would be nice to know where things were in town and have some people to hang out with when school started again. He contemplated the cons but he decided he didn’t wanna piss off that Oikawa guy. He had a feeling that he didn’t take rejection well.
So he decided to go. The walk was short but seemed to take forever. He watched his shoes against the cracked pavement. The afternoon sun shone golden rays on the hopeful weeds creeping from beneath the crevices in the cement that had long since been scorched and dried until they were nothing but shriveled carcasses.
He looked up when the cracked sidewalk beneath him turned to dark tarmac of a parking lot. The diner didn’t look very busy at the moment, not many cars were out front. Just a red and white 1954 Buick Skylark and an old- what looked like a simca aronde that seemed to had not moved anywhere in the last 4 years by the look of the peeling paint and deflated tires. He took a breath before entering. The chilly air hit him in the face as soon as he opened the door. The smell of grease and sugar cones wafting towards him as he closed the door.
“Hey!” a familiar voice called in an amused tone, “Look boys, angel face made it!”
Oikawa was laying lazily over the booth next to the juke box. The rest of the boys were sat in odd positions around the diner as well. It was odd, he thought, that a town this crowded had a diner this empty, but that was the least of his worries.
“Why the pale face?” Oikawa asked. Man his voice was really beginning to get annoying.
Suga just shrugged and walked over the table the boy was at. “Suga,” he said simply.
“What?” Oikawa asked.
“My name- it’s Suga- you called me angel face. My name is Suga.”
Oikawa nodded thoughtfully before popping another odd question. “Do you know anything about cars?” he asked.
“Cars?” He asked.
“Yea cars,” Oikawa said gesturing for Suga to take a seat.
“Well I guess,” he shrugged, “My uncle was a mechanic and I got around cars a fair bit.”
There was a silence before he asked, “Why?”
It wasn’t Oikawa that answered him but this time the dark eyed boy- Akaashi- piped up.”Car racing,” he said, sitting up and placing his chin in his hands, his elbows resting against his knees. “That’s what we do, fix up cars and race. Against those self righteous shucks that call themselves Aristocrats.”
Everyone in the room scowled instinctively at the name except for Suga who was remembering that boy with the nice eye’s jacket. He didn’t seem so bad. “There’s another gang?” He asks.
“Two of them,” The younger boy named Kenma says. “Crybabies and the Aristocrats.”
“Crybabies?”
“Just annoyin’ brats who ain’t got the jets to screw in a lightbulb,” Akaashi glares.
“Oh shut up Akaashi, you’re totally in love with that Bokuto prick,” Oikawa mused but turned his attention on Suga before Akaashi could protest.
“We ain’t gotta worry about those shanks,” Oikawa says dismissing the crybabies, with a nonchalant tone. “However those Aristocrats are gonna get it shoved in their faces when we win the Annual Aristocrat/Pretty boy race.
That was a thing? “Why do you need me?” Suga asks.
“Because- you we need for our fifth member. The pretty boys never had just four, and we need you for a special job- with you, we can’t lose that race.”
Suga had no idea what that was supposed to mean but he figured it was better not to ask,”Where do I join?” he found himself asking.
Oikawa’s smile was animal, “welcome to the pretty boys.”