Call It What You Want (BounPrem-Reimagined)

xix

"Ew, Boun that shirt is disgusting." Samantha squeaked, throwing an empty water bottle at me as I finish buttoning up my shirt. This just so happen to be one of my favorite shirts of mine since I think it's quite different, quirky, if you will. It's out of my usual style since it's colorful and kinda fun. It's basically a button-up shirt with multi-colored cheetah print on it.

"You've always hated this shirt, huh?" I laughed, shrugging her comment off. I don't care, though. I like this shirt.

"With a burning passion." She grumbled, looking herself over the mirror, standing beside me. Look at us, acting all civil and shit. It's like nothing dramatic happened between us. I'm glad, though. It's great to have my friend back. And to top it all off, I'm happy to have someone that I could talk to about Prem without feeling weirdly judged. It's been hard keeping my emotions all to myself. I am bound to explode with all the thinking and the overwhelming feelings.

"You know what we should do?" I piped up, turning to look at the girl who just so happen to be taking thousands of mirror selfies.
Without looking at me, she said, "Burn Cole alive?"

I laughed. "We don't go that low, Sam." I shook my head. "What do you do when you feel all upset?"

"Shopping!" She squealed, clapping her hands in joy. "Oh, wait! We should go thrifting, though."

"What ever floats your boat, Samantha." I laughed, going along with her plan. I actually had food in mind, not shopping but, sure.

--

So I wasn't really aware how serious this social media thing is for Samantha- not until now that we're actually hanging out for an entire day. I know that she has a good amount of following but I never really realized how serious it all is.

We first went for a cup of coffee at our local Starbucks and mind you, I was about to drink my warm coffee when she rudely snatched the cup off of my own hands, setting it down on the table and taking so much photos, saying that she needs to 'Gram it. Okay, maybe one instance is tolerable but we went to the thrift store and she basically dragged me with her in the fitting room, taking photos for her, tediously scouting for her "perfect photo." Once that was out of the way, we decided to go and grab lunch. Guess what? I had to wait for fifteen minutes for our food to arrive and another fifteen minutes for this girl to snap a photo of our food.

"You could find anything to Instagram if you actually try to go outside." She joked once she allowed me to start eating my food, gracefully pushing my plate towards me. First bite in and guess what? She just so happen to take a candid photo of me while eating. There's nothing more than I hate in the world than people taking candid photos of me while I'm grossly chewing like a hungry giraffe. Trust me, the sight of me chewing is nowhere near pleasant or attractive at all.

"Stop taking photos of everything, Jesus Christ!" I whisper-yelled, only making her giggle. She carried on scrolling through her phone, while I ate my food in such a concentration that can't be compared to a smart kid taking an exam. After merely five minutes, Samantha silently pushed her phone towards me, smiling innocently. I looked at her, annoyed, but she just gestured for me to look at it. On the screen displayed is her Instagram account, a couple of photos from today posted. But what caught my utmost attention is this photo of us this morning; she decided to post one of the mirror selfies that she took at home. It's still candid but we look like those stylish couples on Instagram, to be honest. I look too invested in buttoning my shirt and something about it is just too aesthetically pleasing and I like it. I think I look great in it - which is weird, considering that I rarely like the way I look on photos, seriously.

"I tagged you in it. You're welcome." She giggled, snatching her phone back from my grasp.

--

"I'm too tired." I huffed, readjusting the straps of my bag on my shoulder whilest I tried my best to keep my grip on the bags that Sam and I managed to get from our day-long trip.