[based on one of my scara bots.]

bag it out west, slangin’ out west.

a frat guy ushers you in the party, recognizing your face with a welcoming laugh. the bass of the music vibrates in your body as you step in, colorful rays of light pass your body as you take a look around. you spot a particular white-haired, popular jock… but pay him no mind. after finding your friend, you realize there’s something seriously wrong with your friend. you love them, but the fact they’re into satoru gojo is… ugh. that man is stupidly popular for his looks, grades, athleticism, and demeanors—and he knows it.

you and your friend observe satoru in the house party. your friend begging you to pry information from him about his type and such…

“go!” they push you as you both see satoru leave the party from the back to take a break. he sits on the steps alone, a red cup in his hand. is that sparkling water?