Chapter Text
Saps has never been superstitious. It didn't help that he couldn't remember making a wish in the first place. All he remembered was tossing the coin out of habit. And watching it vanish into the murky water of that one random wishing well he passes by. It was definitely something petty he'd forgotten by the time he reached the end of the street.
I hope the worst thing for Flux happens to him.
It was nothing but a fleeting, bitter thought fueled by their encounter that day. Once he makes it back home from the end-of-the-week party, where he stumbles through the door with his shoes still on, he'd already dismissed it as a waste of a coin.
The universe, apparently, has some humor.
So when he wakes up, his mind hazy with sleep and carrying the remnants of a hangover. Saps doesn't immediately think I've been cursed. Only that his bed is much softer and larger than it should be, he's not rich, despite the nepo baby accusations, thank you very much.
Barely registering the difference at first, he rolls over and scratches lazily at his ass. A deafening sound comes from his side and nearly topples him over, ruining any remaining hope of falling back asleep. He groans in confusion. Certain he doesn't have any alarms set for today. It's Saturday, for crying out loud. Reaching out to silence the noise, his hand fumbles across the nightstand.
That's how he gets a good look at his room and completely freezes.
Everything around him is purple: the lavender sheets, the deep violet blankets, the plum pillows, all of it in varying shades of that pretentious color. There's even a fluffy ferret plushie tucked against his side. Saps does not vibe with ferrets. They are weird. Heart dropping at the realization he’s not in his room, he pushes himself up to scan the unfamiliar space.
More dark purple and black fill the other parts of the room. The amethyst rug, the black wooden cabinets and violet curtains. Okay, whose edgy room is this? There's a desk cluttered with paperwork, a half opened laptop and a bunch of sticky notes pinned to a board outlining schedules and events (ah, they are also a nerd) and a massive window that frames the busy city outside, yet nothing, absolutely nothing, is familiar.
Did he get kidnapped?
Moving forward to figure out where he is. He creeps toward the door at record speed. His hand reaches for the doorknob to escape.
Before he can turn it, he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror mounted against the wall and stops dead in his tracks.
The person staring back at him is not him — his white hair is gone, his golden eyes are replaced by messy black hair and sharp amethyst eyes that are now staring back at him in equal parts confusion and horror.
Wait.
This is not his face. This is Flux's.
Saps steps closer to the mirror, his mouth falling open when the reflection copies every movement he makes. He smiles and watches in disbelief as Flux's face smiles back, feeding enough nightmare fuel for the night. This only confirms what he suspects. For some twisted reason he can't understand, he’s now in Fluixon's body.
Uh oh.
Suddenly, his skin does not feel his, rather a ghost wrapped itself in his body. The ghost is him. His real self, now an interloper. A ghost wearing someone else's flesh.
His phone buzzes against the nightstand. Confused and still reeling, he unlocks it with a fingerprint. It was left on Twitter.
SAPS 𐃷˙@s.saprarata
Holy fuck, I'm ugly.
2 comments 3 Retweets 7 Likes
Saps stares at the tweet and quickly has to remind himself that this is not him tweeting. They must have swapped bodies. It's the only logical explanation for what is happening.
Either way, that's Flux's reaction to all of this? Really? His thumb hovers over the screen, ready to respond, when a message greets him and it came from a blocked account.
Flux had him blocked for years. Realizing he can simply undo that. Saps navigates to the settings, finds the block list and unblocks himself in three quick taps.
<s.saprarata>
What did u do?
How typical.
A headache is creeping in. Except Saps blinks and it's not there. No hangover. Small mercies. At least there's one thing he's benefiting from all this chaos. He sits down at the edge of Flux's bed, making sure his entire bottom is not on those lavender sheets. It's impressively difficult to sit there without feeling he’s intruding. Not to mention, who knows what's been there.
A dozen thoughts race through his mind, all of them vying for his attention. Instead of saying any of them, he chooses to defend himself.
<lelouxzero>
There is no way you are blaming ME for this
The response was instant.
<s.saprarata>
the fuck not
how did I wake up with YOUR ugly face
I woke up w an awful headache btw
so genuinely fuck you
The thought of Flux waking up with a hangover makes him grin. Deserve. The picture is perfectly clear on his mind: Flux waking up with a splitting headache on top of being confused at the swap. It must be karma, the kind of cosmic justice that would have been perfect if Saps hadn't been caught in the crossfire.
Luckily for Flux, he doesn't have a roommate and can have an entire single room to himself to wallow in. Hell, the single room next to him is empty, too. The guy dropped out mid-semester and they never filled the spot.
<lelouxzero>
u sure this is not ur doing?
<s.saprarata>
u wish
Saps rolls his eyes and stares at the mirror again. Flux stares back at him in pajamas.
Yeah, this isn't working. They need a plan. They can't sit there and wait for things to fix themselves. Scraping together whatever maturity he has left, Saps sets out an action plan.
<lelouxzero>
let's meet up right now
<s.saprarata>
why would I want to meet up w u
I would punch u in the face
<lelouxzero>
u mean ur face?
also just because ur in my body doesnt mean u have a chance
stop being difficult
<s.saprarata>
fix this and i might consider that
This is definitely going to be a disaster. A physical meeting to confirm the truth is the best idea right now. Who cares about what Flux believes anyway.
Saps stands up and opens Flux's cabinet beside the room. Prepared to see a wardrobe befitting for a theatre kid. Don't judge, don't judge — Saps opens the cabinet and is pleasantly surprised with the variety of sweaters Flux has. He picks one and stares at his hands, at the foreign shape of them.
Wait. He has to undress himself.
Resigning himself to his fate, Saps reaches for the sweater and yanks the pajama off with his eyes squeezed shut. The fabric catches on his ears, tangles for a moment, and ultimately gives way. He fumbles with the buttons too, his fingers clumsy, almost putting the sweater backwards before catching himself and fixing it. His hands didn't shake as much as he thought they would.
Huh. Maybe he'll survive this after all.
He looks down and realizes he's buttoned it wrong
Grimacing at the mirror before him, he moves again. The sweater fits him well, which is annoying because he'd been hoping Flux's wardrobe would be an easy target for his frustrations. He pushes the thought away and buttons the thing properly. Once it's done, he steps out of the bedroom.
The hallway doesn't seem to end. He hadn't noticed earlier, too disoriented to care. Still, it hits him — Flux isn't just comfortable; he's rich. Not old money rich. Rather, the kind of rich where you could tell he's never had to worry about any bills.
He makes his way down the spiral stairs, past the living room with a fireplace, past a dining table long enough to seat eight, and out the front door. It's quiet; the city is asleep with how empty the streets are. There is no car or bike for him to use. Of course.
Saps sighs, checks his phone, and starts running. The university is twenty minutes away on foot, fifteen if he pushes. Except his legs feel wrong, and his lungs are burning when he reaches the end of the street. By the time he hits the main road, he's gasping.
He stumbles to a stop at the tall black iron gates of their university, doubling over with his hands on his knees. He stays there for a moment, trying to remember how to breathe.
"Been skipping leg day?" A girl asks, entering the gates.
Saps wants to die.
Flux wants to kill someone.
He's sitting on Saps' bed — unmade, because he has no obligation whatsoever to the owner of this place — with his arms crossed, staring at the room around him.
The room is cramped. And there's too much yellow. The hoodie he's wearing, Saps' hoodie, is an offensive shade of the same color, and it smells faintly of something floral, which definitely came from his laundry detergent. It's not unpleasant, which makes it worse.
Saps must have walked into a furniture store and asked for the most cheerful option available, or some variant that fits his performative lifestyle. Flux’s eye twitches when looking at it. He didn't even know people could have this much yellow and gold in one space without going insane.
Most of it comes from the numerous academic medals and sport trophies displayed on his shelves, which also, god forbid, contain an entire collection of cassette tapes that belongs to a thrift store; the Smiths, Fleetwood Mac and a bootleg of some obscure band he never found interesting. Band posters covers the wall, too. He sees an illustration of the Arctic Monkeys, Japanese Breakfast and a faded print of other bands Flux can't name.
Waking up with his head pounding, and his stomach lurching every time he moves. Flux has spent most of his morning hunched over a toilet in a bathroom that isn't his, hands braced against cold porcelain, willing himself not to throw up.
Everything feels wrong, and he's too disoriented to make sense of any of it.
There's one thing Flux is sure of, though.
This is Saps' fault.
It's always Saps' fault. Ever since they met, Saps has been the worst thing that's ever happened to him, second only to losing that one bet with Thomas. Flux doesn't know how any of this happened, no idea as to why, yet knows exactly who's responsible.
The mirror is right there, propped against the wall, unassuming. Saps' face will be on the other side of it once he takes a look. He's seen it once, and it's enough to confirm every fear he's ever had about waking up in this nightmare. There's no need to look again. He can't handle a second heart attack today.
He wants to kill someone. He doesn't know how yet. He'll have to figure it out later.
A beep.
<lelouxzero>
ill be there in 10
Flux rolls his eyes. He doesn't want to see Saps, or rather, himself. And because he can, he brings back his most important mission today: making Saps admit it.
<s.saprarata>
theres no way YOU didnt do anything
<lelouxzero>
maybe YOU did something
resorting to witchcraft?
<s.saprarata>
i can do better than that, this is all u
<lelouxzero>
between the two of us, im not the one with that "kind" of reputation
<s.saprarata>
ok narcissist
<lelouxzero>
also dont use my account
wait did u change my password???
i cant access it
<s.saprarata>
not my fault u can do that as long as i have ur phone
He may or may not have also spent his morning digging through Saps' phone. It's boring, disappointingly so. Only pictures of food, his friends, and aesthetic shots of whatever he finds interesting. No secret accounts, no hidden folders, and nothing that screams blackmail material no matter how much Flux digs.
His socials are painfully normal. Flux has scrolled through his messages too, hoping for anything juicy, except he only got group chats about projects and conversations with his "bros" about weekend plans.
Saps is infuriatingly clean.
<lelouxzero>
oh u have no idea what i'll do once i see u
<s.saprarata>
all bark and no bite
can't wait :))
Saps is an idiot. If he wants to convince Flux this has nothing to do with him, he's going to have to try a lot harder than that.
Flux grabs Saps' phone and heads out the door. Saps made a mistake telling him when he'd be there. Flux isn't about to waste the head start. Saps might be faster, yet Flux will always act faster. He moves the moment Saps reacts, and a head start is just permission to make the first move.
People had described them as an immovable object versus an unstoppable force once, but Flux would argue otherwise. It's hard to put into words what they have. They're not enemies in the literal sense of the word. They annoy and go against each other, and Flux has killed Saps multiple times in his mind. However, the word is more of a placeholder because he did not have another word for it.
Saps is not a friend, some sort of ex-friend maybe. He's not a rival nor a stranger either. He's not a presence in his life that he could categorize, but he does make his skin itch all the time.
The last time they shared a class in business technology, it ended with the professor permanently separating them. They'd been paired together with two others for a group project with Saps as the assigned leader: a market analysis presentation on tech start-up strategies. Neither bothered to communicate throughout the project. Flux did his part early, satisfied that he could get it off his desk in a week. Saps, without a word, restructured the entire presentation, aiming for the best grade. Flux only found out the night before the deadline, when a groupmate casually mentioned it.
He cornered Saps immediately. "You restructured the whole thing without telling me?"
"You blocked me." Saps didn't even look up, hands busy with adding the final touches for the presentation. "I told one of our groupmates to let you know. It's not our fault you don't care enough to check in."
The argument that followed was explosive, right in the middle of the classroom no less. Saps called him an unbothered asshole who couldn't care less. Flux called him an arrogant control freak who couldn't work with anyone unless he was in charge. By the time the professor stepped in, they were both red-faced and close to punching each other. The professor didn't bother mediating upon the sight of them. They were assigned to different groups for the rest of the semester, and after that, no professor dared to put them in the same group again.
To put it simply, his relationship with Saps has been nothing but a tennis match. Neither is truly immovable nor unstoppable; they are just constantly reactive with each other. That is something the public has to discover, however, as everyone is convinced Flux is the instigator.
He’s determined to prove otherwise.
Pausing at the door and scrolling through Saps' gallery one last time. His thumb hovers over a photo of a sunflower, bright and ridiculous. Unmistakably, a perfect match for the person who no doubt caught the photo. He stares at it for a moment, ready to form another judgment about Saps' performative lifestyle choices, when an idea clicks into his head.
Sidefall's tweet from moments ago is the first thing that resurfaces to his mind, something about their university not having any drama recently, followed by people agreeing and others reprimanding him that they are no longer in high school. Sidefall has always been notorious for spreading gossip like gospel. A habit that Flux both admires and hates about him.
His friend group, the Conspiracy, has been both victims and allies in those dramas. It's not like they are looking for enemies to fuel the flames; they’re just of the opinion that the university would benefit from some entertainment every now and then.
One time, they'd gotten bored enough to start a rumor that they were secretly a cult. They'd used cryptic language, left suspicious notes in the library, and even made matching pins to hammer the point. The administration had to issue a statement reassuring everyone that there were no cults on campus.
"You think they'll know it's from us?" Snowbird asked.
"Why would that be?" Flux had grinned. "Why do that to ourselves? We’re the victims of misinformation here."
On the other hand, Saps is incredibly popular. He's social, friendly, and everywhere at once. His reputation precedes him wherever he goes. Flux had tweeted once, a while back: "popularity isn't skill. hope that helps" to remind people that there are bigger things in life than being favored by most people, which is true.
That tweet had gotten way more engagement than he expected. More than that one tweet where he called Hatsune Miku a generative AI. People were even name-dropping Saps when he didn't mention any names.
That whole ordeal was very entertaining.
Now he has the chance to make a better one. This time, it's from a rumor that has legs and will get under Saps’ skin. And so, Flux smirks, types out a tweet, and hits "post."
He climbs down the stairs, flashing a grin at a student passing by, and she waves back with an easy smile of her own.
Time to drag Saps into the fire he started.
Saps hates this body.
15 minutes of running turned into 30, and his legs are burning by the time the university comes into view. Saps slows down as he approaches his dorm building, suddenly hyperaware of everything.
He's in Flux's body. Anyone who sees Flux visiting Saps' dorm would definitely question if anything is happening between them. He does not want that type of chaos right now. He doesn't need more rumors on top of everything else.
He curses himself for not picking up a hoodie and blames all the bad decisions he's been making on Flux. He pulls up the collar of Flux's sweater, trying to hide his mouth to appear less noticeable, and immediately goes horrified. What is he doing? He drops the collar and instead walks discreetly toward the entrance.
He's extra careful with his every movement as he does not have his I.D with him. Not that it matters since the guards never check anyways yet he can never be careful enough. He slips inside the boys dormitory, glancing left and right to make sure he’s covered at all fronts. There, he finds his dorm and knocks on the door.
Nothing. He waits. He knocks again, only to be met with silence.
Saps groans, annoyed. Of course, Flux is ignoring him and making this harder than it needs to be. His thumb is poised over the screen, ready to fire off another text when he freezes.
There's a tweet from his account. And it's been gaining a lot of attention.
SAPS 𐃷˙@s.saprarata
Got some good energy today. Does anyone want to take advantage of that? ;)
42 comments 21 Retweets 230 Likes
Saps' brain short-circuits. He reads it again, another and a third time, yet the words stay the same. Flux had posted on his account, using his name, his face, and his reputation, to pull off the act of a playboy.
And if that wasn't bad enough, Micro, that traitor, had replied with "you are not him #kingofnorizz," which only fueled the flames. And Sidefall, ever the opportunist, had jumped in immediately with "saparata coming in fresh with the popular jock stereotype," which had garnered hundreds of likes.
He knocks on the door again, harder this time. Flux must have bolted the moment he hinted he was coming. Saps grits his teeth and takes off running again towards the building nearest to him, the architecture building.
He pulls out his phone.
<lelouxzero>
where are you
<s.saprarata>
Why do u wanna see me so bad ):
<lelouxzero>
where are you
<s.saprarata>
You got many DMs btw, ur welcome
<lelouxzero>
are u somewhere in the architect building
<s.saprarata>
dont u have anything better to do
<lelouxzero>
don't we have something that WE need to do?
🐘?
<s.saprarata>
get it to stop
A frustrated scream came out of him. A few people passing by stop and stare at Saps, convinced he's lost his mind. He exits the architecture building and goes to the engineering building beside it. Inside, he sees a group of sophomores sitting in a circle, working on a science project together. He stops for a moment, watching them, and feels a sharp pang of envy. It must be nice to work with someone who actually cooperates.
<lelouxzero>
why would i want to switch bodies with u?
If u want to take time with my body then fair
<s.saprarata>
get off that high horse
I know ur still petty about that thing 2 years ago
<lelouxzero>
OK lets not
<s.saprarata>
stop looking for me
u look ridiculous
Hold on.
<lelouxzero>
you can see me
<s.saprarata>
shit
Saps whips his head around with the urgency of a man on a mission, scanning the crumbling red-brick engineering building from every direction. The engineering building is one of the biggest buildings on campus. However, Flux has to be close to see him. He grins as he spots a familiar blob of white hair moving swiftly towards the nearest exit. Bingo.
Flux is at the bottom of the stairs, mid-escape, when he notices him looking.
Flux looks up at Saps and gives him the middle finger. Face twisted into something between annoyance and shock, and even though it's Saps' face, the expression is unmistakably Flux.
Saps pauses.
Before he loses sight of him again, he smirks and winks at Flux. The look of dawning horror on his own features is deeply satisfying, considering who it now belongs to. It’s the perfect picture of shock he's been craving all morning.
To make it worse, he leans dramatically against the nearest wall and makes an exaggerated kissy face, puckered lips and all. He swears he sees the exact moment when Flux's heart drops. Despite the body swap, Flux's body language is too easy to read. It must be terrifying to watch your own face do those things. He should probably be doing something else, yet this is the perfect time to take opportunity to get under Flux’s skin.
He catches the moment Flux nearly does a petty comeback in return — the split-second where he scrunches his face — and suddenly he's gone, disappearing down the stairs in rapid speed. Saps quickly runs after him, except his legs have other plans.
<lelouxzero>
wait where did u go
<s.saprarata>
skill issue
Understanding that chasing after Flux is not gonna work because Flux would rather weave himself into different things and directions than have a conversation with him, Saps moves to another action plan.
<lelouxzero>
ur not helping ur case here
I might as well give u a chance :)
<s.saprarata>
Wat dat mean
If Flux is a little shit, two can play the game. Opening up Twitter, which is Saps' least favorite social media application. As it is nothing but the mud, the filth, the low place where Flux lives and breathes. Saps had stubbornly refused to step into that pit, except if Flux wants to play dirty, well, so be it.
He clicks on Flux's latest tweet and makes a quoted tweet.
Saps needs to switch strategies.
FLUX 🪻 @lelouxzero
Can I be the first one in line? 💕
3 comments 5 Retweets 12 Likes
SAPS 𐃷˙@s.saprarata
Got some good energy today. Does anyone want to take advantage of that? ;)
79 comments 35 Retweets 456 Likes
Like a moth to a flame, he receives a notification.
<s.saprarata>
wow wow im such a huge fan
<lelouxzero>
I know
<s.saprarata>
i dont think u understand what that acc is for
One piece of advice: it has to be believable
What? Saps stares at the screen, annoyed.
The replies start rolling in — people questioning what kind of ragebait this is, others tagging Sidefall, who's demanding that he share any blackmail material he gets. No one is taking the tweet seriously.
He forgot that Flux had become synonymous with baiting.
He quickly opens a Google tab, desperately typing "how do you ragebait a ragebaiter" to save face. None of the results are helpful. They're full of cancellable takes that Flux has dipped his ugly hands into. Saps needs something that will blow up in his face instead.
Not finding anything useful, Saps closes the tabs and goes back to chatting with Flux.
<lelouxzero>
is me being a playboy is ur fantasy?
<s.saprarata>
no; those rumors are there for a reason
look i can go worse, but if u ask nicely i can tweet "I got hacked gg"
<lelouxzero>
I can also go worse
stop testing me
<s.saprarata>
again all bark
<lelouxzero>
no wonder u keep yapping
<s.saprarata>
my yap has bullets
<lelouxzero>
its cute u think that way
<s.saprarata>
shut up
<lelouxzero>
let me bring a bomb
<s.saprarata>
who do u think u are
Yeah, that decides it.
It was a pretty bad mid-semester week to start with. That’s why when he got invited to that casual end-of-the-week party last time, he didn't waste any time mixing his intestines with cheap vodka on the dimly-lit bar just off campus.
And honestly? He's been doing great with everything, whether it be academics, basketball, or the endless balancing act of keeping his life together. He has given more than he should. He's allowed to live his life without worrying about tomorrow. He deserves a break, too.
It’s quite unfair that Flux has decided to hold a grudge over the hangover and has convinced himself Saps did the swap. There's no reasoning with him when he gets that way. His ragebaiting instincts kicked in the moment he woke up in Saps' body, and now he's being the biggest asshole he can be to personally torture him. If Flux has to suffer, Saps might as well make it entertaining for him.
Saps is not going to be the butt of the joke this time. If anything, he might as well use this to make Flux taste his own medicine.
His phone buzzes in his hand. He glances at the screen to see who’s calling.
It was Thomas, Flux's best friend. He must have caught wind of the chaos. Their tweets are probably circulating rapidly by now, and Thomas has sensed that there is something wrong, which is rather concerning. Their friends and their families are another disaster waiting to happen. Saps picks up the call anyway, too tired to add anything to the growing pile of mess.
"Flux, are you okay?" Thomas’ voice is laced with concern. Saps didn't know Thomas could sound like this. "I don't think you'd easily resort to Saps for ragebait. Anything going on with your fathers?"
That's one loaded greeting.
There's definitely something weird going on with Flux's family that might explain why he is the way he is. It must be a sore spot. A lightbulb goes off in his head as he answers Thomas, "Nothing, Saps pissed me off, I figured I could get some engagements out of him."
"Hm."
Okay, that made Saps pause. He’s rather convinced he was role-playing Flux perfectly there. His heart kicks against his chest. "Look, I'm alright, Thomas. Don’t worry about me."
"I don't know. You sound different. Maybe I'm just worried." Thomas admits. Saps breathes a quiet sigh of relief. He can't believe Flux has good friends, but then again, Thomas isn't exactly the best person either. He wonders how this guy managed to bag Micro. "If anything is bothering you, you can tell me later."
"Later?" Saps asks, confused.
"After the meeting." Fuck. That's right. Flux has some weird group activities going on even during the weekends.
The guy can't help but be involve with a lot of things, including being part of the disciplinary committee. Stopping himself from thinking about the calamity that will happen involving those people if the body swap doesn't end sooner. A sense of dread comes in. He has games coming up, for fuck's sake. His team will look for him.
"Flux?" Thomas's voice comes up again.
Saps clears his throat.
"I will, thanks for checking in with me, Thomas."
There's silence, and Saps blinks at the realization that he thanked Thomas for calling him. Flux would thank Thomas, but wouldn't go that far. He hangs up the call before Thomas can respond, regretting he picked it up in the first place.
Instantly, his mind went blank except for one thing: Flux's family. Sore spot.
Left confused when he stopped running or when his feet carried him here, since somehow, in his search for Flux, he ended up in the center of their campus grounds right next to the fountain. Circling the same area for the past ten minutes, too caught up in his own head to realize he's going nowhere. There are some students around him, yet he can only focus on his shoes. He recognizes it instantly. It was the same pair he owns at home, a scuffed white vans sneakers, and he curses the universe for making him realize that he and Flux might actually share the same taste in shoes.
His thumb hovers over the tweet button. He knows this is a line he is about to cross. Once he posts this, there's no taking it back.
He presses "post" anyway.
The screen flashes. The tweet goes through. Saps stares at his own words. For a moment, he's void of any emotion. Then the likes start rolling in. 10. 50. 100. He's crossed a line, and there's no going back.
FLUX 🪻 @lelouxzero
If there is a contender for the worst father of the year awards, I will have two <3
78 comments 98 Retweets 780 Likes
More likes roll in. Saps did that; he tweeted that.
This is exactly what Flux would do to him if he took a page from his book.
Chaos.
The art of ragebaiting is basically the sophisticated sport of pissing someone off. Some people are natural-born ragebaiters, slipping those landmines into conversations, and standing back to admire the explosion. These people don't argue to win — they argue to get a reaction.
Reaction that involves sidefall making a tweet that says “new level unlocked: daddy issues” to gather a crowd. They thrive on making someone snap, the kind of schemes that makes Saps consider climbing up a tower.
Flux has mastered this craft. In fact, he's probably the one person who has sold his soul to the devil for it. But even faced with the devil, Saps can't deny that he's not bad at this art himself, as evident from today's scenarios. It’s not exactly something he is proud of.
<s.saprarata>
Pandora, architecture building, the same spot.
5 mins.
The response has given him neither happiness nor satisfaction. There is relief that Flux will talk to him about everything, but more than that, he’s grown numb.
He types frantically and starts walking.
<lelouxzero>
now u agree to meet up
well guess what
im already around here
look when i said a bomb
i have to mean it
why is ur first instinct to ragebait me
No response.
<lelouxzero>
were u born with a bitter spoon or what
i know ur too petty to ignore this but
<s.saprarata>
Im here
<lelouxzero>
we have to talk
Saps had made a lot of mistakes in his life. This is not one of them. Sure, his entire timeline on Twitter is on fire, and there's a constant beeping noise from all his notifications across other social media, but he has catalogued every single thing in his mind to justify what he did.
First, Flux was a little shit. They woke up in switched bodies, and the menace's first instinct was to blame him, refuse all efforts to work and solve the problem, and instead add more fuel to it by, god knows why, resorting to engagement bait. Saps had fallen victim to Flux's weird sense of humor. In fact, he'd been his number one victim ever since the incident™.
Second, Flux dared to taunt Saps when Saps had shown good tenacity and maturity about the situation. Flaunting his ragebaiting skills when what he should have been doing was reflecting on the fact that he had no tact.
Third, Flux was awfully, annoyingly good at running away from him. He needed something to flip the script. When Flux made everything about himself, about his own inconvenience, his own issues, Saps thought that at least he had a real family to complain about.
And finally, Flux is now heading full speed toward Saps with a pissed-off expression Saps has only ever seen since the incident™, and Saps can't help but cringe at seeing himself make that face. He would never make that kind of expression.
Well. He'd definitely struck a nerve.
But again — with everything that has been happening, the compiled embarrassment, anger, and confusion Saps has experienced — he finds himself not caring about going too far. He told Flux he could do worse.
He was only making him taste his own medicine. And he can't help it; they've always been this way since the incident™.
And so, he raises his head, meets Flux's angry eyes, and smirks. "So," Saps says, glancing around. There are only a few people there. Not many witnesses.
"Agree that I played better at your own game?"
Flux punches him.