❛ ↺ art studio

@k. ryeowook Siwon knocked on the door then let himself into the room, he'd just finished reading through the texts and couldn't help but laugh lightly as he'd approached the room. "I wasn't too far when I got your text, so I thought I'd just appear." He smiled over at Ryeowook and wandered over, taking a seat beside the smaller male. "So, what is it you had in mind for us to do an integrated topic?"

@c. siwon Ryeowook sighed contently putting the last of the items away and finally finishing up rearranging the desk in front of him. He'd arranged to meet his friend in the studio to talk about a couple of things the could integrate into lesson plans for a little further into the year. He hummed softly to himself while logging onto his laptop to start typing away at a document he had to finish up, also sending a text to Siwon to let him know he could come along.

@t. mark having spent a good two hours in the same chair, he feels an ache in his lower back, and decides that this is his signal to finally move. lost in thought, he continues to flick between a few tabs before closing his laptop entirely. yuta's phone pings as he packs his stuff, carefully wrapping up his charger wire, then putting his drawing tablet away in it's designated pocket. scooping up his phone from the table, he almost drops it when he reads the message.

[ 5:20pm ] hey, this is mark. i hope i got this number right? yuta?

he’s shaking - it’s been only minutes since he sent out that DM, and already he had a response from one of his closest friends back then. his hands are trembling with excitement and disbelief as he opens the chat, and feels himself grow giddy. he had regained something he thought he had lost, and regained someone who used to be a part of his everyday. he regained someone who gave him encouragement when he didn’t have much—and vice versa.

[ 5:23pm ] holy it’s you. you saw my message already?
[ 5:24pm ] how have you been, what have you been up to, and how are we already this old—
[ 5:24pm ] you’re 20 now right? d u d e w t f

yuta was a repeat offender of triple texting, but this time could be excused. he spent enough time typing and retyping and letting his phone autocorrect or predictively write his texts because his fingers couldn’t. he was sweating with the way this (good) nostalgia and this excitement filled him. he leans against the table, curious if he would see the other typing as soon as he sent the last text.

[] ... this did not wind up shorter

@l. mark [] YES OMG I DIDNT EVER KNOW YOU WERE HERE SOOOOORYYYYYY IGNORE THAT. IT WAS MEANT FOR MARK TUAN DHFJKDKD

@n. yuta [ HOE IM SHOOKT. DID YOU TAGGED ME WRONGLY IN YOUR SLEEP INDUCED MIND?? ]

@l. mark [] this is in third only bc im very #streamofthought but youre welcome to reply in whatever style you’re comfy with. ps. i’m assuming that a few months have passed since the start of the year.

yuta had been left alone after art club met this week, their last meeting of the semester. he thoughtfully munched on some of the left over pizza from the surprise he and ten had organized for their small club, and he stared at his latest digital piece. in the silence of the art room, yuta could hear himself think and let his mind wander. it wandered between happy thoughts and not-so happy thoughts. it wandered into the past, back to the present, and beyond to the future. so much had happened, and so much was still going to happen: but for now, he felt human. he truly felt in control of his life.

as he took a break from his art, yuta saves and exits out of the art program instead to open up an old site he hadn’t been on in forever: https://weeb.site.co.kr/. for such a long part of his middle school and high school years he stuck to this website as his crutch, where he could find support and camaraderie among complete strangers. they fostered his sense of self in his most formative years.

he logged into his account—appropriately named “xXbrotakuXx”—and opened up a page flooded with messages and posts and pings. it almost made him teary—ALMOST—as he saw old friends posting and interacting with his profile even if he had been gone for a year. the most recent one was from about 5 months ago, the summer before he moved to college. he opens it, and dares to type out a short message to this friend who had logged in recently. perhaps there was hope that he could reconnect with them.

xXbrotakuXx
[5:16pm]
“hey markle, i know it’s been a while! just logged on to say i might not be here anymore, but i’m alive. icb i made it to college dude... finally made it. anyways message me. here’s my phone number if you ever see this.”

he types in his phone number, before hitting send. yuta let out a heavy sign, feeling a weight on his chest as he looked at this stupid website again: all the good that it brought him was also tied to so much bad.