Beau Rosier (beaurosier) wrote in 20somethings, @ 2021-09-03 22:57:00 |
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Entry tags: | c: beau rosier, c: nate o'leary, d: 2027 09, ~ complete, Ω: owls/texts, Ω: rp |
RP/Text: Infinite wisdom
Who: Beau, Nate
What: Drunk texting
When: 4 September 2027, 1am
Where: His house
Warnings: TBD
Completion status: Complete
Beau had two Winstagram accounts. The first was his public, verified profile, the one that everyone knew with thousands of followers. Beau used it for publicity and to give a glimpse into his private life. His feed was a sanitised version of his life, though he’d recently been contemplating using it for something else. Ever since that night at Taboo.
The second account was private. Fake name, generic profile pic. Most importantly, the anonymity to follow any account he wanted without judgement. Sure, he could follow his personal trainer on his main account, but if he started following and liking pictures by male fitness influencers who liked to post topless selfies… well, that might raise a few eyebrows. It was a place, too, where he could follow people who got to openly live the life that he denied himself. Scrolling through that feed had become a place of solace over the last few weeks of overthinking and overanalysing.
Tonight he had wrapped late on set then gone for a few drinks with some of the hair and makeup witches to blow off steam after a long day and some very serious scenes. A little after 1am Beau arrived home, too wired from bomb cocktails with energy drinks to sleep. The sensible thing would have been to get a glass of water and go to bed. Instead Beau, in his infinite wisdom, decided it was a good idea to grab a beer.
Sinking into his couch he awkwardly tried to kick off his shoes without using his hands. He had already switched to his second Winstagram account and was tapping through stories. The back to school themed weekend at Taboo had slipped his mind until then, his busy shooting schedule making him lose track of which day it was. But there were plenty of photos to remind him now, pictures and stories of people getting ready for a night in their adapted Hogwarts uniforms. Taboo’s house rules meant there were very few photos that could be shared from inside the club without getting you kicked out.
Still, it was all enough to stir up memories of the simulation room and Beau couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or a memory of the fireplace in the common room that made his face feel warm. He took several long swallows of beer, remembering hungry kisses and familiar touches.
Beau cleared his throat, adjusting himself. His thumb accidentally swiped to another app in the process. He blinked a little bearily at his list of messages, absently scrolling through a few. The next thing that he really registered was the familiar sound of a message being sent. Huh.