Disclaimer: I do not own Scream Queens or its related characters. All is the property of Ryan Murphy, Ian Brennan, Brad Falchuck and FOX. I'm just borrowing them for some nonprofit entertainment.

(A/N: Co-written with KoalaNoises.)

Live Authentic

Ew! Touched boob! Gross, hetero, girl-boob! Nasty! There was nothing Boon couldn't stand more than girly parts! The fact that she was dead did not improve his opinion. It didn't make the touching of Number 2's rigid, still, and unmoving body any more unpleasant either. It was just a null factoid. Something that defined the situation, but did not affect it in any way. Touching girly bits was gross whether the girl was alive or dead.

"Ya know, this would be easier if you'd help a little." Boon snarled at this partner. The Red Devil just shook his masked head and indicated the chainsaw he kept in a holster on his belt. Something that large and cumbersome made it hard to move awkward sorority bodies. Thus, Boon got to do most of the work. "C'mon, Red. I thought we were equal partners."

Finally at the poolside now, Boon threw down Number 2's body on the first recliner he saw.

"There! Just take the picture!"

Wagging his finger, Red Devlin stepped forward to arrange the late sorority sister's hair. Draping her thick dark locks over the gaping wide gash on her shoulder. Then, he took out Number 2's phone and snapped a picture of her prostrate form. One leg hanging off the recliner as if she were totally trashed and passed out drunk. It was remarkable how much like dead bodies drunk bitches looked -and vice-versa. With one final press of a button, the picture was posted to Instagram. Hashtags: NoFilter, and LiveAuthentic.

"Geart." Boon huffed. "Her death's been successfully covered up. So… what do we do now?"

Red Devil turned his head slowly to peer at Boon, and although the other man couldn't see it through the red vinyl mask, he could feel the smile of sheer miracle glee at the idea that must have just occurred to him.

…

Walking into the super secret, super special, and awesome villain hide out, Boon stopped short when he saw Red Devil painting Number 2's nails.

"Dude! What the hell?" He asked, at a loss for anything else to say. It was just supposed to be a quick little prank to throw off time of death and keep the cops, campus police, and nosy little freshmen off them. What was he still doing with the body? Why was he giving it a manicure?

As if in answer to this question, all Red Devil did was hold up two bottles of polish, Hooker Red, and Call-girl Fuchsia. As if to ask, 'Which color?'

"Don't ask me. I'm gay, but I'm not that gay!" Boon snarled back. Then paused. Then said, "Hooker red. Goes with her personality."

What personality? She was stiff pile of meat in the gauge shape of a collage slut. She didn't have a personality -not that she had much of one to begin with. She wasn't even a she anymore. She was a corpse!

Red Devil unscrewed the bottle of Hooker Red and began applying the new coat with all the delicate care of a professional Korean manicurist. Then he added white for a french tip, then top coat. When it was dry, he pulled out Number 2's phone and took a photo of the new nails. Hashtags: NewMani, LiveAuthentic, and DevilRed.

"Are you just gonna keep posting on her Instagram indefinitely?" Boon asked, crossing his arms over his chest in irritation.

A nod of affirmative was the Red Devil's only response. He began scrolling though Number 2's phone for pics she might have taken but hadn't yet posted. Something of her wearing a different outfit, or maybe making that ridiculous duck-face that seemed so popular. Instead, he found dick-picks of Chad. Red Devil put one hand over his mouth to hide the smirk that the mask was already hiding and stifled a laugh. He passed the phone to Boon before the other man could ask.

Oh! Yummy! Boon got to touch it once. Once! But it was dark and they were spooning and Chad freaked out the second it happened. He never actually got to see the thing. The fat, long, hard, uncircumcised thing. Boon emailed the image to himself.

He resumed scrolling through the photos where Red Devil left off. That was how he found the image of what was quite obviously just a simple zit. But it appeared to be on the inside of her thigh, uncomfortably close to her gross, but surprisingly well waxed labia. So, without consulting Red Devil, he posted the photo to Instagram with the subtitle, 'Does this look like chlamydia to you?' Hashtags: TransmittableDiseases, STDs, and LiveAuthentic.

Next to him, Red Devil's phone dinged an alert. He pulled it out and looked at the exact same photo Boon just posted.

"Dude, are you subscribed to a dead chick's Instargram?"

Red just shrugged, as if to say, 'Duh.'

…

It was actually kinda fun. It wasn't that hard to pretend to be a shallow, air-headed, vapid ditz on Instagram. Whenever you sit down to lunch, just take a picture of your food. Getting Starbucks? Post your cup. See someone you know? Hide so that they don't see you walking around when you're also supposed to be dead, then snap candid shot of them and add a cruel, judgmental subtitle.

And the hashtags. Boon had so much fun with the hashtags too. Not just the standard Instagram hashtags like LiveAuthentic, or NoFilter. But also, RedDevilRules, DownWithConey, Cahoots, EverDanceWithTheDevilInThePaleMoonLight, RockYourBodyRight, and BackStreesBackAlright.

Red Devil was having fun too.

He purchases face putty and professional make-up artist grade cosmetics. Soon Number 2 was taking selfless as if she really was alive again. Hashtaging NoFilter, AllNatural, and GlamRock.

It was really fun. Like a My Size Barbie.

…

That was… until they lost the body.

Boon and Red Devil stood staring at the empty space where they stored her in their super secured, super special, and awesome hide out, wondering where she could have gone. Who could have taken her, and when.

Then Red's phone dinged with an alert. They didn't have her anymore. But, somehow, Number 2 was still posting on Instagram.

#LiveAuthentic

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