Bristol is mean cold, bites like no one’s business, but Tungki still is able to walk around the streets just in his muscle tank and shorts.

Reandra never not gets baffled. Even if Tungki was born and raised in the cold mountainous areas of Bandung, there sure has to be a difference with the cold of Bristol. The day they hold the show there Tungki is only wearing a tee—the newest merch of Royal Stars, and a black jogger. On the other side of the stage stands Reandra, already wrapped in a crewneck jumper and fur boots. Even though he knows he will be swimming in his sweat Reandra reckons it’s a much wiser decision than hypothermic death. (And, of course, it adds to his fashion points.)

“It’s so fucking cold here,” he says, just doing his little talk with the audience after they finished performing Letters From The Grave. Short breaks. And also a preparation for their next song. “I’m still somewhat freezing here. I don’t even know how Tungki is breathing, dressed like that.”

Tungki turns his head, still drinking from his water bottle. His eyebrows raised. Thumbs up.

Reandra huffs, amused. “Anak Bandung built different.” And the audience laughs, and Tungki rolls his eyes while aiming his lopsided smile to Reandra.

Saturday, 31 December 2022 — 3:45.