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Apr. 9th, 2010 12:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kat8chaSome days you just wanted your own personal sound track, the kind of sound track you got in the movies with pop songs and rock songs and the occasional musical riff to symbolize when you manned up or got beaten down. Kida'd always thought that a personal sound track would be cool, also slow-mo scenes and women who fell all over you. But there were times when the music seemed to fit.
Kida bobbed his head to the rough grungy beat of some punk-rock band as they riffed and whined and shouted about life sucking, adults being unreliable, authority being the enemy, and how you were broken inside. Kida's toes tapped too and his fingers drummed the beat into the rough brick alley wall he was leaning against.
The yellow bandana tied around his arm was a brand, burning the color into his core, scarring him on the inside, an eternal undeniable sign.
"Let's do it." Kida picked up the nail puller that was resting by his side and motioned for the gang to move with him. Blue Squares should have known better than to invade their turf.
The song ground to a halt when Kida smashed the music player.
Kida bobbed his head to the rough grungy beat of some punk-rock band as they riffed and whined and shouted about life sucking, adults being unreliable, authority being the enemy, and how you were broken inside. Kida's toes tapped too and his fingers drummed the beat into the rough brick alley wall he was leaning against.
The yellow bandana tied around his arm was a brand, burning the color into his core, scarring him on the inside, an eternal undeniable sign.
"Let's do it." Kida picked up the nail puller that was resting by his side and motioned for the gang to move with him. Blue Squares should have known better than to invade their turf.
The song ground to a halt when Kida smashed the music player.
