2: "Sundays" (Rewritten)

                                    

                                          
September 13, 2020. Olive Branch Northern Church, Eden, Washington (not a real church/not a real city)

"Words are blunt instruments
Words are sawn-off shotguns."
       Jigsaw Falling Into Place-  Radiohead
-
Sundays.
Wooyoung has always loved Sundays- specifically Sunday mornings.
He wouldn't really be able to explain why, if you'd ask him. He guesses it's simply the familiarity and comforting, ritualistic feeling of them. Sundays never change. And for that, Wooyoung is grateful. He hates change.
Maybe it's the first rays of sunshine pouring into his and his baby brother Kevin's shared room, or sometimes the rain pattering onto his window rapidly singing a gray, windy song of melancholia. In the winter, it was the blinding white blanketing the mountains and hills; the snowflakes whistling a chilling tune as they waltz with the wind. 
Perhaps it's the scent of coffee and toasted bread wafting throughout the house and into his room on the second floor; or maybe even the annoying ass hymn his dad had put on every Sunday morning for years now to get them all jumping out of bed and begging him to turn it off.
Then all six of them would pile into the old, battered red van in the driveway and fly past endless mountains and forests and fields of corn, old hymns blasting at high volume from the speakers. Running out and into the building to their usual bench, second to the last in the back of the left row of church pews. 
Then, like usual, Seo Changbin- son of the pastor, and Kang Yeosang- Changbin's cousin (his best, and only friends) would send bright smiles his way and wave from across the room all to enthusiastically, attracting disapproving glares fromel elders. Seo Nami, Changbin's older sister and Wooyoung's semi-crush of five years might even give him a curt nod, which shows she at least acknowledges her brother's friend's lowly existence.
Then, after listening to the sermons and the final prayer that seemed to drag on for an eternity, he'd spring up from his seat and wind his ways through the people and the benches, pleasant chatter filling his ears from all sides. He'd find his friends and they'd have the time of their life teasing each other and speed-recalling new events and gossip that they hadn't had time to discuss during band practice a few days prior.
This is definitely one of those Perfect Sundays, Wooyoung decides as he jogs up to his friends lingering outside the entrance, looking bored as could be- before they see him, that is.
"Ayo my man Woo-YOUNG," Changbin shouts, slapping his back perhaps a bit too hard, but hey, that's what homies do.
"Changbin you clown- you really can't keep your voice down for once, can you? People are looking," Wooyoung hisses, tugging at his friend's ear.
"Let go of me Woooooo. Yeosang, what did he just call me? A clown?" Changbin whines.
Yeosang just laughs at his friend's antics, used to the banter. "He's not a clown, Wooyoung. Just an extrovert."
"What's that gotta do with the volume of my voice you damn introvert?" 
Wooyoung kicks his friend playfully. "Language!"
"Yeah yeah, so anyways," Changbin begins. "Yesterday I was just doing my homework and guess wha-"
"Guysss guys guys," Wooyoung interrupts him out of the blue, abruptly straightening his back and fixing his hair
"...What? What?"
Oh. 
Seo Nami is heading their way.