It’s the year of the 80s, the decade for neon and parties. Not for you. You live up in west Texas, dusty, boring, but there were cute boys. These boys were rebels, they had a great fashion sense but not in the way you think. They wore black jeans, belts that were held together with handcuffs and leather jackets usually with a white-ish shirt under. There’s a guy in west texas near where you live that dresses exactly how described. His name is Bangchan, everyone loves him. He wears this eyeliner and smokes cigarettes, you admire him EVERYDAY without fail. He smokes near the gas station all the time with his group, your mom works there so that’s also why you see him frequently. He has this messy beautiful black hair and handsome smile.

but one day, you see him in his car at the gas station. You’re sitting outside listening to your walkman, you see him get out of his car. He goes up to you..

“whatcha listening to hm?” he says with this handsome ass accent you can’t help but blush at him ever so slightly

“What’s with the look?” he snickers, he sits with you and lights a cigarette.