#* pick me

ahyoung is a bit of a mess. she's heard that plenty of times in her life and wouldn't deny it. she'd just say being a neat and put together person is boring. do people like that even have any fun? she, personally, doesn't care to find out.

the problem is, she loses things sometimes, as a side effect of being a mess. this time, it's all of her guitar picks. she literally bought a multipack last year and yet they're all gone to god knows where. that's alright, though. it gives her an excuse to make a music store run; not that she ever needs an excuse for anything. she just feels like it's a little better to go in with a purpose than just loitering and probably buying a bunch of shit she doesn't need. that's what always happens.

she takes in the sight of all of her options, narrowing her eyes in thought. she could buy some here, at an affordable price, and support a local small business owner, or she could order some custom ones online. you can do pretty much anything in that case, like put a picture of yourself on them. she's considering doing it and putting pictures she has of her friends on them, just because it would be hilarious. imagine playing the bass with your friend's face. so funny.

they're more expensive though, is the thing, and it's not like ahyoung to really consider something before buying it, but she is trying to save up money for a gaming pc, and as her grandmother says, everything adds up.

she looks around, eyes suddenly settling on a guy that's she's pretty sure works here; she's seen him here a bunch, anyway. "hey," she calls to him. "can you convince me to buy a pack of these instead of some of the goofy ass custom ones i saw i can make online? these may be the more practical approach, but a bunch of picks with my friends' faces on them are way tempting. time to test your salesman chops, buddy.

[ @ccjongin ]

she sat in the dance studio with little fanfare, the way she always did things. her legs stretched out in front of her, noting almost mechanically that her summer tan was coming back. was that a good thing? probably not, but most days she couldn’t be bothered with sunscreen. melanoma, they told her as if that was the only thing they were concerned about, but she would worry about that later.

her hands reached out in front of her to touch her toes, a little bit of contentment passing through her mind as she found she could touch just a little farther than she could the week before.

plus, she considered the fact of how appalled her parents would have been to find her doing hip hop, of all things. they were always more ballet people ( it was more cultured, apparently ), and the thought gave her an unnecessary amount of gratification. not that it should, but it did.

“so...what did you want to do again?” her hands went behind her, gathering her thick hair together before securing it with an elastic, pulling with two hands just to make sure it was extra tight. she heard that it would make her hairline start receding, but considering the current state of her life, skin melanin and hairlines were the least of her concerns.