A/N:

Turns out I'm actually terrible at puns, but my love for ska, punk, reggae and pretty much everything in-between is making me write an AU. Boy I've not updated this in a long fucking time. Sorry about that. But I'm finally free and I'm back on track, so I've updated the AU a little and I'm just going to edit the chapters tonight to suit it, and then I'll get started on a new chapter. A few notes though:

Considering the ska/punk scene and political system I'm most familiar with is based in the UK; that's where the AU is set.
I'll update when I can, it probably won't be on a schedule (they tend to throw me off), but I'll try and update fair often.
While I'm not wanting to shove my political ideals in people's face, bear in mind that there will be mention of politics in this fiction (note: punk).
The rating is for language (I like to swear), so-called "anti-social behaviours" (drinking/smoking etc.), and the political content - but later on there may be some sexual content as well.

(And yes, that was a Lilo and Stitch reference. Each band member is a Disney character because fuck making OCs)

Every Day Is A Sunday

"Anna, don't be a dick."

"I'm too tired for ska, man."

"No one's too tired for ska."

"Just put on some reggae and we'll chill."

"We'll chill to this. You owe me, anyway."

"Why are you so hung up on this?"

"Because it's great. Besides, it's only a few songs."

"Will you shut up about this band if I listen?"

"... I cannot guarantee-"

"Kristoff!"

"Okay, okay! Fine, just be quiet."

"Don't be such an old man..."

"Whatever: just put the disk in the player, please."

"You should really upgrade from CDs…"

"Anna."

"Like, honestly, way to drag your ass out of the 90s…"

"Anna!"

"I'm going, I'm going - can it, Grandpa. Speaking of which; isn't there a bingo game you should be attending about now…"

"Hilarious. Now shut up and grab me another lager, will you?"

Anna laughed at having finally been able to make the CD player obey her will (it was old and temperamental and liked to sleep; much like MPs), moving around the basement apartment to reach down into the waist-high fridge, kneeling down to evaluate the remaining stock.

"There's only Carling left; unless you're wanting ale - which I certainly don't recommend." She sighed, opening the doors and pulling a can of Carling while Kristoff thought, and placed it atop the fridge.

"Hmm, whazzat?" Kristoff murmured, his mind obviously elsewhere.

Anna ignored the man, reaching for another Carling without a second thought. However, her movements were interrupted then, by the sharp, expressive voice droning out the sub-standard speakers with an intonation unlike she'd heard before. Her movements slowed to a halt. It wasn't until Kristoff's voice grabbed her focus her that she continued her movements.

"I knew it. We're not even 2 minutes in."

"Shut up."

"Admit it!"

"I said shut it."

Kristoff let out effortless laughter, throwing a couch cushion at her.

"Admit it, Shortstack." By this point he'd retreated back into the recliner (a piece of furniture he'd permanently reserved for his use whenever he visited, which was often), and was leaning the seat back to put his feet up, and Anna had turned to watch this take place.

"Fuck off." She growled, her eyes narrowing as she glared at him. "And you can fuck off with that self-righteous look on your face. Bullshit if you won this."

Kristoff snorted, closing his eyes and lying back again the chair and closed his eyes. "If you think you're winning, you've another thing coming. Now shut up and listen, will you."

Anna's smile intensified for a short moment as she shifted back around, proceeding to open both cans, passing a bottle to Kristoff on the way back to her seat. Though she couldn't find herself ready to concentrate on the music just yet, she needed just a few more moments to prepare for that voice.

"What's the name of these guys again?" She spoke, her own voice quiet, but not a whisper.

"Ethereal Requiem."

"Weird name." Anna cut in, bringing the bottle rim to her lips and taking a mouthful of the liquid. Once she's swallowed, she continued; "And you said there's five of them?"

"Well—Yeah. Yeah, there's five." Kristoff began, and though he faltered somewhat, he managed to say at least one complete sentence without looking like a complete fool.

"You hesitated?" Anna asked.

"One of their members left recently, there was only four of them for a while, but now they're back to five." There was a sigh at the end of this, and Anna watched her friend's movements as his hand went to his pocket to bring out a pouch of tobacco. He fumbled for a moment, bringing forth papers and filters from within the pouch. And after a few more moments of fumbling, he'd rolled a near-perfect cigarette. He brought his head back up and his eyes flickered open, holding the cigarette in her direction, he spoke again. "You want one?"

Anna shook her head; "I'm good; but keep talking – who left?" She felt as though she sounded far more excited than she ought to be.

Nodding, the man went place the item between his lips and then fish about in his pockets, probably for a lighter. "The guy who left; come on, Kristoff!"

He smiled, taking the unlit cigarette in his fingers, a husky sounding laugh coming from him; "Not a guy," He continued to look around his person with his free hand. "The drummer, a Hawaiian girl, Nani or something."

"Why'd she leave?" Curious, she pressed on.

Kristoff paused then, pulling something metallic from his back pocket. Letting the music drown the silence, he lit his cigarette and took a few drags from it. Eventually, he answered. "Family problems, I think." He let out a breath. "It's a shame, really. This new guy can't even compare."

As he took more drags, Anna spoke. "Yeah… Yeah, I remember you telling me about it. Hans, is it?" Her friend nodded. "I bet you can really hear the difference."

"Yeah, this guy just doesn't get it." He breathed out again. "It's the live performances where it really shows. He goes crazy, like he's trying to take over the stage. Nani was more composed, more skillful... Just... Just, better." He took a minute to suck on his cigarette. "I mean, I'm all for a crazy drummer, but I guess it don't really work with ska. I dunno, I just think he's bad news."

"How come?"

"Just stories I've heard. He sleeps around—"

"That's his choice."

"Yeah, but he doesn't bother checking the girls' age. It's not proven; but I bet he's fucked an underage girl, or, several. He seems that kind."

"That's just impolite." Anna stated, sounding more bitter than she intended.

"And you're too naïve." Kristoff laughed it off, and after a few moments, Anna joined him.

"Speaking of which…" Having finished his smoking, he dropped down and pressed the butt of his cigarette into the ashtray situated on the floor, by the side of the recliner. "They're gonna be at Oaken's in three weeks."

She looked up. "They? Oh, you mean..."

He smiled. "You got it."

Anna's breath hitched. She'd be able to witness the source of this voice; in the flesh? Dude…

"You got tickets, right?" Her friend, though, only responded with laughter. "You got tickets, right?!"

Kristoff smiled; "You know I did, A. However, if you want 'em, you admit I win."

Anna grimaced, but it was worth it. Easily worth it. "This once, Mountain Man. This once." She grinned, sticking her tongue out at him.

Well, at least it was enough time to learn a few songs.