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Public Account: @jonghohoho
Name: Choi Jongho
Bio: wassup party people
547 followers, 504 following
Private Account: @bongbo
Name: Definitely NOT Jongho
Bio: HAHAHAHA keep scrolling
1 follower, 394 following
"I've said it before and I'll say it again," Jongho told Mingi. "the point of having a private account is to be able to express yourself without fear of judgement. I won't accept your request because I don't want you to be there, a witness to my private, very very personal thoughts. It's like a diary. Do you want me to break into your diary and read all that YOU have to say? Huh, Mingi? Do you want me to do that?"
"But your mom follows you," Mingi pointed out.
"Yeah, and?"
"And I don't have a diary," he added, picking up his iced coffee from the counter and chugging half of it in one go. With a straw, too. "And why wouldn't you want to share your private thoughts with me? I'm literally the best person to confide in."
"Are you kidding?" Jongho said. "You put little party hats on my pet frog when I specifically asked you not to. It was so fucked up."
Immediately Mingi's hand came up and smacked the side of his head. "That was in your dream, dude. I had nothing to do with that. That one's all on you."
Jongho rubbed his head. In hindsight, he should have seen it coming, but he was too busy mourning the absence of the cheesecake section of the display case. They were all gone and it was tragic and he couldn't live in this kind of society anymore. What had the world come to?
Deciding to save his tears for tonight, when he would be all alone in front of a the flat screen that someone (Mingi) had broken under mysterious circumstances (there had been apples involved, and also a bat and two and a half bottles of vodka), Jongho dragged Mingi towards the door before he could block even more people with his giant-ass body. ("I'm sorry I work out," Mingi always said, pouting like a fucking toddler. He was one of those monsters who worked out to relieve their anxiety, which was great for him but annoying for everyone else (Jongho), who had to mentally prepare to drag himself there for the sake of his own wellbeing, which was awful. Why couldn't he have been one of those French kids who played a little soccer after school and miraculously grew a six-pack just by breathing the right way?)
@jonghohoho: i ran into a problem
@seongbitch: you ran into mingi?????
@mingles: bitch, your ass is grass.
@jonghohoho: don't be silly. he has no ass :/
Public Account: @YOyeo
Name: Kang Yeo(stfu)sang
Bio: who needs a face with ankles like these???
394 followers, 405 following
Private Account: @themostgorgeousbeanalive
Name: Problem Child™️
Bio: Bored since 107 BC
0 followers, 0 following
Yeosang was having a bad day.
Actually Yeosang was having a bad century. He was so bored. He honestly hadn't done anything fun since the late nineteenth century, when he and Oscar Wilde, his buddy through and through, went around scandalizing half of England and taking London by storm. (Truthfully, there had been little to no storming. Mostly they'd just sat around and drunk tea, but that had been okay too.)
Being bored wasn't anything new, unfortunately. Yeosang had been having prolonged bouts of ennui since the second century BCE, but they usually only lasted a few decades or so. Until he found a new best friend, or a great new hobby. But once things were over he moved on, moved elsewhere, mostly so that he could forget what he'd done. (In the 1750s, for example, he'd been the 18th century’s equivalent of goth. Clearly some things were meant to be forgotten, and this was one of them.)
All this to say that he'd been bitching and pimping back then but now everything was so...boring. Travelling was boring, meeting people was boring, drinking coffee or whatever new drink was in fashion (did someone say matcha latte) was boooring. He hadn't even been this bored during the Middle Ages! Mostly because back then everyone had been dying from the Black Plague. And like, he'd always known on some level that life held little to no meaning for someone who didn't risk dying every time they stuck a fork into the toaster, but he'd always found distractions to avoid pondering the question of "What am i supposed to do with myself while I wait for myself to die, which will be never?" He knew the answer was nothing, which was a little bit sad and also a little bit distressing to his poor roommate Wooyoung, who just yesterday had seen him flop onto the sofa face-first when interrogated on the subject of an upcoming History of Art paper.
Wooyoung didn't know shit about his predicament, which was just as well, because Wooyoung was a nightmare on a normal day. It had to be said, however, that Yeosang had stopped actively trying to hide the fact that he was immortal in 2001. What happened in 2001? Don't fucking ask. Anyway, it had gotten to the point where he had begun to hope that someone would try to get him dissected or something. You know, to change things up a little.
Only, no one had believed a word he'd said.
2002: “Hey Yeosang, you look so swag right now. Where did you get that shirt?”
“Oh, this old thing? Napoleon and I went shopping in 1815 to celebrate his re-”
“Fine, forget it. It’s probably a hand-me down anyway.”
2010: “Yeosang, look! This is such an interesting painting.”
“Oh, I remember that. 1430 was wild.” Yeosang pointed to a man lying dramatically on the ground with a knife in his back. “Look. That’s me.”
“I know, right? And I’m the guy with his head being chopped off.”
“No, seriously. That was me.”
“Yeah, you really are that dramatic sometimes. Have you considered taking acting classes?”
“Yes, actually. You probably won't believe me, but back when the Bard was alive..." and cue the dirty look.
"First of all, shut the fuck up. Don't call him the Bard, weirdo. You're not an English Lit major. Don't stoop to their level."
And then last year, Yeosang enrolled himself into university for the thirty-first time, as a fucking History major, because he hated himself now apparently.
@themostgorgeousbeanalive: i should also probs figure out what I've missed the last 500 years or so.
@themostgorgeousbeanalive: probably nothing much
@themostgorgeousbeanalive: we haven't killed ourselves yet, so
And today, as he rotted in his East Asian History Post-1800 Lecture, he couldn't even concentrate. All he could think about was the kid stressing out in the front row - because Yeosang could also read minds, the horror. Had he forgotten to mention that?
@bongbo: ok but why does the prof keep LOOKING at me like I've MURDERED HIS COW?????
@bongbo: i am going to FAIL UNIVERSITY PLEASE