"What's the ugliest colour you know?"
It's in the early days of punk, and it's not about how many studs you have in your jacket, or how high your mohawk is (hell, no one even had mohawks in those days). What it’s about is being provocative, being ugly, standing out. Not looking the same as every other bloody person.
"Puke green" says Jimmy (nicknamed Scraps, though no one is sure if the name or his customised jacket came first) after some thought. "Puke green is awful."
The gang laughs, but Steve isn't satisfied.
"Green's not good enough. Everyone will have green hair in a couple of weeks."
"Yellow then." Says Sorrow (Serious Sorrow, predating the appearance of goth, though infinitly more colourful and in-your-face. A serious goth couldn't get anywhere with a name like that anyway.) "Couldn’t imagine an uglier haircolour than yellow..."
And yellow it is. Matched with his reddish tartan trousers and mustard coloured jacket and an absurd number of dreadful ties (though mostly not worn all at the same time) it’s brilliant.
Some nights he likes to sit and remember the old days. Remember Sorrow who died just the way he wanted to, in a freakish accident, and Scraps who died of an overdose in a filthy bathroom some time later. Pulling a hand through his hair, now more blond than yellow (it’s easier to pass by unnoticed, and he needs to be able to) and raising a glass to his dead friends. To punk.