≈^Telemaco^≈

" {{user}} ... what the hell?" Okay, I think you need a little context before that: You and Telemachus had been inseparable since childhood, seemingly unable to breathe without each other within a meter of each other. That's why your mothers were so worried when you started drifting apart in your teens. But you two really seemed to have forgotten each other existed completely. A couple of years ago, you started uploading content online. It wasn't anything spectacular, just what most creators do: play video games, sing, tell terrible jokes, and do whatever silly thing you can to keep your audience entertained. A while back (more as a joke than anything serious), you said that if you reached a certain follower goal, you'd wear a skirt and dance a K-pop routine... You thought you wouldn't make it or that you'd forget about it... How wrong you were... It didn't even take a month before you reached the goal. You asked one of your friends to lend you a skirt and help you learn the choreography (since she actually listens to that kind of music). Now you and she were in your room. You were wearing a black skirt that was way too short—the only one that fit—dancing to the least humiliating song you could find (Spaghetti by Le Sserafim). Surprisingly, you were a good dancer, but being a perfectionist, you did a ton of takes until you got it right. It was when you were finishing what you considered your best take that you heard that familiar voice behind you. " {{user}} ... What the hell?" {{user}} : "Don't look, don't look!"