TV shows and movies loved to glamorize college life. Frat parties, hot chicks, sports games, dorm life, and freedom? What downside could there possibly be?
Perhaps sleeping through your alarm and having to run through piles of leaves and bumbling crowds to get to class could be considered one. Or maybe having hot coffee spilled on you by someone equally as late? Or taking the walk of shame to the only open desk front and center of your strictest teacher, who also gave you a grade-cut for your tardiness? Not to mention forgetting the homework that had kept you up all night in your rush to arrive… only to have a pop quiz on entirely new subject matter slapped onto your desk with the explanation that "You should have taken the initiative to read three chapters ahead. Welcome to college!"
"The 'best four years of your life' my ass," Dipper grumbled to himself as he slaved over his calculus homework. "'You get to pick your own classes,' they said. 'You'll meet a ton of interesting people,' they said. 'It'll be fun!' they said…"
"Whoa, someone's in a mood again," a gruff voice mused from his doorway.
Dipper dropped his pencil and rubbed a hand over his tired face. He spun in his desk chair to face his great uncle, a sheepish expression crossing his features. "Sorry, Grunkle Stan, it's just been one of those days."
The old man nodded understandingly, leaning against the doorframe. "Were you up working on the same report that I just helped Mabel finish?"
The freshman nodded. While they didn't have class on the same day, they did have the same teacher. The assignment had been to interview an elder family member about a mistake they'd made in their youth and elaborate on a lesson that could be learned from it. Mabel's report was due tomorrow, and in order to eliminate the chances of being accused of plagiarism they'd agreed that Mabel would interview Stanley while Dipper interviewed his twin brother, Stanford. The only downside was that their other great uncle was on a research expedition on the other side of the world, and Dipper, being the procrastinator that he was, had waited until the night before to finally sit down and video chat with him.
"I assume you interviewed Ford, then?" At Dipper's nod, Stanley wrung his hands together and continued, "What did he say his mistake was?"
The eighteen-year-old hesitated. His great uncles had a very strained relationship, a result of an incident and a misunderstanding when they were in high school that set them on different paths. Stanford had accepted a scholarship to an exclusive university across the country from his brother, neglecting the plans that they'd laid out as children. Stanley argued that it wasn't fair to him, while Stanford was upset that his brother wasn't more supportive of his decision. Neither really forgave the other for his betrayal, but Dipper was sure that Stan was hoping to reconcile with his brother soon.
He was also certain that Stan had referred to that fight as his mistake and was hoping that his brother had done the same. Unfortunately, Ford had told him that his greatest mistake was breaking off a friendship in college because he'd developed feelings that he couldn't process. He'd called it his "greatest regret in life" and said that he "always wondered what could've been" had he been bold enough to pursue his interest.
Stanley easily read into Dipper's silence and bowed his head. "I'm sorry for asking."
"Don't be!" Dipper cried, jumping out of his chair. "I had asked him about mistakes in his college days specifically, so it probably didn't cross his mind!"
His great uncle seemed pacified enough, cracking a smile. "It's alright, kid. You have enough things to worry about." He peered over Dipper's shoulder at the textbook on his desk. "Calculus? I thought you took that in high school."
Dipper pouted and gave a deflated nod. "Apparently I only took one semester of it. Why would a school even do that?"
Stanley raised his hands. "Don't ask me, I'm as against the system as you are."
They grinned at each other, content to bond over a mutual dislike. Stanley had always been closer to Mabel, but it was moments like these that reminded Dipper of how fortunate they both were to have him.
Stan glanced at his gold watch, face contorting when he noticed the time. "Ah, time to open up shop." He turned back to his great nephew, placing both hands on the teen's shoulders. "Promise me that you'll take a break from your homework. You'll have all of tomorrow to work on college stuff; finish that math, then relax for the rest of the day."
Dipper smiled at his guardian's concern. "Thanks, Grunkle Stan, I'll do just that."
Satisfied with the response he received, Stan patted the boy's back before taking his leave, calling to both young adults, "There should be leftovers in the fridge. If not, order a pizza! Love you!"
He heard his sister's enthusiastic cry of "Love you, too!" from her room, the level of energy indicating that she was in the process of filming one of her videos.
'That's not a bad idea, actually,' Dipper admitted to himself, settling back into his chair. Maybe he could wrap these last problems up quickly enough to tackle the newest game on Steam.
"Hey guys!" Dipper beamed at his camcorder, giving a little salute. "Welcome back to 'The Mystery Shack!'
"I know that I posted a video two days ago and this is a bit out of character, but it's been a long day," he sighed, running a hand through his curls with a strained smile. "Hope you all don't mind!"
He turned his attention to his desktop, the monitor positioned just beside his camera. He began the screen recording to edit into the video later, disabling the external audio so that it only saved the game's sounds.
"Alright, I promised to check out a new game last time, and a lot of you have been asking to see a free game so you can play along later, so let's see what we have here…" Dipper scrolled down the page of offered games, scanning the brief descriptions for something that piqued his interest.
"Okay, here's one!" His cursor landed on a game with bright colors and 8-bit animation. His eyes skimmed the description. "It looks like a PC knockoff of Splatoon. Graphics are a bit crude, but I guess you get what you don't pay for. Let's check it out!"
The game definitely had its bugs, but it was actually pretty amusing. It had an online multi-player option, so he logged on after getting a hang of the controls. A few players recognized his gamer tag and teamed up with him. They were in the middle of an intense shootout when–
"Dip, have you seen Bill Cipher's newest post?" Mabel cried, slamming his door open and rushing to his side. She didn't hesitate to shove her laptop onto the desk beside his.
"Mabes, I'm in the middle of a video!" Dipper complained, eyes wide at his sister's frantic movements.
"This is more important!" the girl argued, gesturing firmly to the video already loaded on her screen.
Dipper groaned and stopped his camera and video feed, typing a quick apology into the chat box to his teammates and logging off before giving the brunette his undivided attention.
Mabel had a grim expression on her rosy cheeks. "You've heard of Bill Cipher, right?"
Dipper nodded. He'd never watched the eccentric blond's videos, but he knew that Cipher had accumulated roughly four million subscribers. Dipper himself had recently broken the one million mark after a year and a half of consistent posting. He supposed that had something to do with Bill's style of video being more along the lines of social commentary and comedy bits. "What about him?"
Mabel only pushed her laptop closer to his hand, a silent gesture for him to click "play". Dipper scooted to offer half of his chair to his twin, who perched herself on its armrest gratefully. He mentally prepared himself for all of the clichés he'd likely see before finally tapping the spacebar.
A large mop of blond hair filled the focusing camera, the quality blurring slightly as the man shifted back into visibility. He squinted large amber eyes at the camera's screen that was likely turned toward him, his pupils focused just to the left of the lens. He leaned over the table again to get closer, the camera lens's auto-focus feature scrambling to compensate.
"I think I have a loose eyelash," he murmured, fingers holding the accused eye open wide to the camera. "Is it bad?"
The video flickered, Bill in relatively the same position, but slightly further back. He was still messing with his eye, frowning at the camera.
"Ugh, I hate eyelashes, they're so stressful!" He seemed genuinely concerned, tugging at a few lashes but coming up with nothing. He scanned his fingers with a pout before giving the camera a bright smile. "Well, the show must go on!"
The video cut to a very brief animation of a gold, brick-faced triangle with a single eye at its center contorting into a cartoon version of Bill, who fell into a sitting position on top of the words "Welcome To The Mindscape" in cursive text. Bubbly music played along with the intro.
The graphic faded back to the scene before, only with Bill seated comfortably in a chair behind the table he'd climbed onto. From that vantage point, Dipper was able to take in the man's attire: a gold dress shirt with the sleeves folded to the elbows, a black bowtie, top hat, and pair of suspenders complimenting the fancy look. A few papers were stacked in two neat piles in front of him, though Dipper assumed that they were just for show. The blond's hands were folded professionally atop them. It was pretty easy to anticipate the impending change of pace.
"Hey kids, welcome to The Mindscape!" came the obnoxious screech. Dipper winced, quickly turning the volume on Mabel's laptop down a few notches. "I've been getting a lot of requests to do a recap in celebration of two full years, and while it's a tried and true trope, you guys should know by now that conventional isn't how I roll."
Dipper rolled his eyes at the haughty attitude that the man expressed. He quickly pulled the blond's channel page up on his own laptop, scrolling through his videos with an unimpressed gaze. Most of them were pretty typical for YouTubers of his style: challenges, rants, skits, and the ever-so-popular vlogs, which he had graciously isolated to a separate channel called "DailyCipher". So much for unconventional…
"Anyway," the man continued, a sinister look forming on his impish face, "in celebration of this momentous occasion, I've decided to break down what I've learned of my fellow YouTube sects through something of a 'burn video'."
"A what now?"
"Just keep watching," Mabel advised, eyes glued to the screen.
"If you've ever seen the movie Mean Girls, you probably have an idea of what I mean. For the uncultured babies out there, I'm sure you'll catch up." He stuck his tongue out mockingly before scooting to the right of the screen, a graphic of a monitor appearing on the left. He snapped his fingers and the monitor screen displayed an image of hair and makeup products.
"Since my fellow comedians and I are at the top of the ladder, let's jump down to the second rung – beauty gurus and advice givers. They win second place by a hair –" a laugh track was inserted to compliment the pun, which Bill paused for with a wink "– because of their insane popularity. Really, they're a bunch of attention-starved divas that sound like the same broken record and just promote a ton of expensive shit for you to buy. I give them props, though, considering most of them don't even get paid by MAC or Sephora for all of their advertising. And some of the advice that they give! Do you really think that they do that all of that stuff to themselves? I'm sure that if you look up 'hypocrite' in the dictionary, all of their faces will come up as examples!"
Mabel's left fist clenched the chair beside Dipper's leg, and he reached his right hand down to take it and pat it soothingly.
"Musicians and artists have a lot of brownie points with me, and that's not just because I've collabed with some of them and happen to play a few instruments myself–" the video cut to a clip of Bill holding a triangle and striking it once with the beater "–It's pretty courageous of them to put their life's work out there for people to judge. I suppose storytellers would fall into this category, as well. Nothing like listening to a scary story right before bed! Unfortunately, you can't always trust what you hear on the internet. 'It can very easily be auto tune~'"
He sang the last part in a lame imitation of stereotypical auto tune. With a mischievous smirk, he pulled a remote from his pocket and pressed a button, his statement from before playing back actually mixed and auto tuned. Dipper had to admit that it did sound impressive, but it was no substitute for the real thing.
"And as far as those storytellers go, plagiarism is a very real thing. Just ask your local college student!
"I'd say Buzzfeed comes next, and yes, they're in a category of their own. Have you seen how many channels they have alone? Can someone say desperate for attention?
"Conspiracy theorists are just below, mostly because I find them amusing and occasionally influential. A lot of the things that they come up with are absolute rubbish, but I live for an elaborate, thought-provoking conspiracy! Fake moon-landing? The real Paul McCartney actually dying in 1966 and being replaced by a look-alike? Spongebob being based off of real animals affected by nuclear testing in the Bikini Atoll? Male nipples becoming a useful mutation in the future?
"How-to and tutorial videos are only on the next level because they saved my camera and laptop after I got caught vlogging in that nasty storm four months ago. But honestly, shout out to the people that make these videos and actually come up with this stuff! Those cookie-in-a-mug recipes are dope!"
He held up a wide mug and flipped it over, a large chunk of what was hopefully a thoroughly-baked cookie falling into his hand. He beamed as he turned and dropped it straight into a garbage bin, the mug following suit.
"Cosplayers are close to the bottom because they have their funny moments, but they're primarily a ton of terrible actors who never grew out of cartoons. That's not necessarily a bad thing, I mean, I've been known to enjoy the occasional Adventure Time episode, but… ah, who am I kidding? I'm super childish!" He flashed a silly face at the camera. "There aren't a lot of obsessive cosplayers on here, though, so there's hope for humanity.
"At least until the gamers come and ruin it."
WHAT?
Bill's face twisted into a repulsed frown. "That's right, gamers are on the last rung of the ladder – in fact, they're more like the ground level. Why would anyone spend fifteen minutes of their time watching someone play a video game, much less a whole hour? Do you have any idea how much you could accomplish in an hour?! And the gamers themselves must have absolutely no lives to be content with not only holing up to play video games for however many hours, but also to talk through the entire thing and believe that their commentary is actually valid! I mean, how much more pathetic can you get? Any moron can mash a few buttons on a controller; why would anyone need to watch someone do it for an hour? I might as well just watch the hour-loop Nyan Cat video! I'd probably lose less brain cells through that, to be honest."
The monitor faded, Bill scooting back to the center of the screen. His lips twitched back into a grin as he concluded the video. "Anyway, thank you guys so much for putting up with my shenanigans for two whole years! I'm sure that with you all along for the ride, we'll have many more adventures to come!"
The screen flickered, showing him sitting on the left of the screen pointing an accusatory finger at the vacant right side. "Don't go soft on me now, Cipher! That's not what the people come to see!" he berated.
The blond was suddenly on the right, holding his hands up with an apologetic expression. "You're right, Bill, I'm sorry! I just can't help but get a little emotional, I mean, two years!"
The Bill on the left returned, nodding and wiping a fake tear from his eyes. "Yeah, I know."
The Bill on the right looked toward the left side with a skeptical expression. "Dude, are you crying?"
"No!" the left character shouted. "Damn eyelash decided to betray me now! I'm definitely ranting about eyelashes next video!"
Bill returned to the center, still rubbing at his eye. "Damn it, I think the eyelash has a friend!" he huffed. He finally gave up, apparently trying to blink the pain away. "Wow, what a way to end a video, huh?" He struggled for another second before releasing a groan and hitting something on his keyboard.
A generic graphic with the multi-colored vertical bars came up, elevator music playing behind it. An animated Bill wandered onto the screen dragging a tangle of wires, the words "Please hold for technical difficulties" popping up above him. The cartoon struggled with detangling the clump, eventually wrapping himself up in them and falling over. The same bright yellow triangle from before, (that seemed like a nod to the Eye of Providence, now that Dipper thought about it), drifted onto the screen then, a black bowtie and top hat matching the color of its small arms and legs. It floated to the trapped man and snapped its fingers, a blue fire incinerating the wires and freeing the blond cartoon. Bill leaped to his feet and high-fived the triangle before giving a thumbs up.
The real Bill finally returned sporting an eyepatch. He flashed the camera a sheepish smile. "I lost the war with the eyelash."
Under any other circumstance, Dipper would've cracked a smile at the man's antics and how relatable they were. It wasn't hard to see how and why he had such a large and loyal fanbase.
"On that note," the blond continued, and Dipper could sense that he was about to launch into his signature sign-off.
As he'd predicted, Bill flashed a cheeky grin, leaning in close to the camera. "Remember kids-" he inhaled sharply before releasing everything in one breath "-reality's an illusion, the universe is a hologram, buy gold, bye!" He used his left and right thumbs and index fingers to make a triangle over his right eye, winking through it, (at least Dipper assumed it was a wink – his other eye was covered by the eyepatch), before cutting the video. A clip from his last video began to play with the usual requests for likes and subscriptions over a dubstep version of a pop song.
Mabel slowly closed her laptop, watching Dipper with an anxious expression. The brunet himself didn't really know how to react. On one hand, it was just some guy giving his opinion; it's not like he's supposed to love everything. On the other hand, he didn't just express distaste in his craft – he completely trashed it, and to, at the very least, his four million subscribers. How was he supposed to just let something like that go?
"As you can imagine, the reviews aren't overwhelmingly positive," Mabel finally murmured. "He's been getting a bit of backlash on his Twitter page, too. Just some disgruntled fans arguing for their favorite beauty guru or musician to be the one exception to his stereotype."
Dipper nodded, hand moving mindlessly along his laptop's touchpad. Before he was aware of it, he was on Cipher's Twitter page. Just as his sister had said, there were a few scattered comments about specific Youtubers. He saw a few tagging his friend and former babysitter, Wendy, better known by her followers as "RedHeadedRage".
RedHeadedPaige: " WelcomeToTheMindscape Surely you don't mean RedHeadedRage! She's a goddess! #cbv #youvegonetoofar"
FearWendysRage: " WelcomeToTheMindscape RedHeadedRage is nothing but pure talent that you wish you had! #cipherburnvid"
RageSuperFan: " WelcomeToTheMindscape You've done four videos with RedHeadedRage, so you can't be talking about her! #cipherburnvid"
Wendy was a musician, but most of her channel was dedicated to giving advice to her primarily-young-adult audience. She did a lot of social commentary, as well, living up to her channel's namesake. Her ex-boyfriend, Robbie Valentino, (whom Dipper still held a strong dislike toward), had taught her how to play guitar. From there, she also taught herself bass. It soon became her instrument of choice, and after their breakup she began to record covers of Adele and Taylor Swift and Beyoncé songs that steadily became part of her channel's identity.
Wendy collabed with everyone. She'd done a few beauty and advice videos with Mabel, and she was a closet-gamer who made occasional guest appearances on Dipper's channel. He was surprised to find that she'd done videos with Cipher on multiple occasions, too.
Dipper scanned the other recent tweets on the subject, finding quite a few in favor of Mabel, too. His sister had a fairly large following, herself; she'd had a head start on him, already nearing her third year, and she had a modest 3.4 million followers to brag about.
There were no comments about gamers. Dipper told himself that the video was still recent; not many people had seen it, yet. And who was to say that gamers were even fans of Cipher? For all he knew, they didn't know, nor would they care, so why should he?
Two days passed, the video had over eight million more views, and he still hadn't found any positive commentary in favor of gamers. #cipherburnvid popped up as a trending topic in the U.S. that afternoon. Every other sect had been defended, except for his. He'd even received a few comments on his latest video asking him if he'd seen it yet and had anything to say about it.
"I have to do something!" he grumbled to Mabel over their microwaved dinners that evening. "I can't just let him get away with it! Gamers are pretty introverted; I doubt that many of them would be brave enough to speak out."
"So you are going to be the voice for 'the little guys'?" Mabel inquired, waving her fork at him teasingly. "What are you going to do? Annihilate him in 140 characters?"
Dipper swatted the utensil away with his own, a frown marring his features. It wouldn't be enough for him to just tweet a response. There was no guarantee that many people would find it amid the flood of #Cipherburnvid posts. No, he had to do something bigger, something bolder, he had to–
"I'm going to post a reaction video!" he declared, ignoring the skeptical look that his sister shot in his direction.
She took a sip of lemonade before addressing his statement. "That isn't exactly your MO."
"Well this isn't exactly a typical situation," he pointed out. "What Cipher posted was borderline hate, and I want to assure people, gamers and aspiring gamers especially, that they are justified in their likes and hobbies. He can't get away with belittling people's interests just because he's popular!"
Mabel wiped a mock tear from her left eye. "That was beautiful, Bro Bro! Pure poetry!"
Dipper stuck his tongue out at her. He maintained a composed exterior, but in reality he was trembling at the prospect on the inside. He had never been much of a confrontational person; many of his subscribers admired his passivity toward internet trolls and haters. But he knew that he just couldn't leave this one alone.
When he'd cleaned the last bits of food from his plastic dinner tray, he stood and tossed the remains in the garbage. Mabel glanced up from her phone to give him a thumbs up.
"I'll be right here if you decide that you want me to chime in."
"I don't think that will be necessary, but thank you," Dipper smiled. He wasted no further time in waltzing to his bedroom, afraid that if he delayed any longer he'd lose the confidence needed to film the video.
His camera sat in its usual place on his desk, right beside his laptop. His chair was turned toward him, open and inviting and comforting as always. It was familiar territory, a sacred space for his videos. Part of him wanted to draw upon that comfort for this video; another told him that this video shouldn't make him comfortable. Deciding that a change of scenery might be nice, he scooped the camera up and grabbed his coat.
"I'm going to film it out in the park," he announced to Mabel as he passed, grabbing his keys and phone from the kitchen counter.
Mabel gave him another surprised expression, but didn't comment beyond a teasing, "Stay safe and watch out for strangers."
Dipper nodded and shrugged his coat on, mumbling a courteous, "Be back soon, don't burn the place down," as he slipped out of the door. The crisp autumn air slapped him in the face as he exited their apartment building wishing that he'd had the foresight to bring his scarf. The temperature was dropping more rapidly than it had last year, probably due to climate change. He made a mental note to find a related game to play to raise awareness of it without seeming like a total activist.
Their apartment was a short walk away from a rather large park near the center of the city. Oddly enough, it didn't have an official name, but locals often referred to it as the West Coast's version of Central Park. There was a lake large enough for paddle boats in the warm months and ice skating in the winter. A lengthy trail wound through the park's forested area and open fields that often attracted picnickers. Another trail traversed the outer parts of the park, offering workout stops for joggers along the way. There was a playground and a sand pit for volleyball on the opposite side from where he'd entered. Basketball and tennis courts were stationed a little way down the path. Benches could be found scattered along the walking path, the occasional water fountain and mist-sprayer nearby.
It was a very well-maintained park, and Dipper often found himself drawn to it when he needed to unwind. Mabel typically accompanied him to ensure that he didn't get lost, (though it usually resulted in her getting pushed by him on the swings). Who needed frat parties when there was a perfectly kept park nearby?
The path was well-lit despite the setting sun. The entire park was bathed in a random mixture of white light, sunset orange, and elongated shadows. While the combination didn't seem like it would work on paper, it was actually a gorgeous sight.
Dipper selected a vacant bench, far enough away from any other patrons that may potentially intrude, to film his video on. He didn't exactly have a script to go off of, but he trusted that the general idea of what he wanted to say combined with speaking from the heart would get the message across.
He flipped his camera on, "Canon" flashing across the screen as it came to life. He popped the lens cap off and aimed at a bird perched on a stone structure to his left, adjusting the lighting to suit his darkening surroundings. There was a lamppost beside him, but the shadows were still falling unevenly with the sun not completely set yet.
Finally satisfied with the picture, Dipper flipped the screen and turned the lens on himself. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. God forbid his voice crack in the middle of his rant.
His finger hovered anxiously over the "record" button. He was stalling at this point, and he knew it. He silently wished that Mabel had tagged along – she would've pushed it for him by now, ready or not.
"Come on, Dippin' Dots, be a man!" he grumbled to himself, knowing that Mabel would've given him the exact same pep talk. A small smile came to his face at that thought, and with the small reassurance that it brought him, he pressed the button.
"In Response To The #CipherBurnVid" had garnered over two million views overnight. It was the only video of its kind so far, and it had received far more praises than reprimands in contrast to its predecessor.
His phone nearly burned him when he picked it up from his nightstand that morning. A quick glance at the notifications explained why – hundreds of messages across his social media pages linked the video and urged him to watch it.
Bill pulled the video up on his laptop, settling on his small sofa with a mug of coffee. He slipped the thin-framed reading glasses that doubled as his computer glasses onto his face before pressing play.
"Hi guys!" The speaker was a young man, probably seventeen or eighteen if his clean-shaven face was anything to go off of. Wavy brunet hair curled wildly about his head, falling into warm chocolate brown eyes. He was a bit pale, and while it was apparent that he wasn't athletic, he had a lean frame that wasn't unappealing if Bill was being honest. In fact, the man's entire appearance was attractive. "I know that this isn't my usual style of video, but I recently stumbled across that 'burn video' that one of my fellow YouTubers recently posted, and I wasn't amused by some of the things that he had to say."
Bill frowned. He didn't like where this was going.
"First of all, he insulted what many of us consider to be more than just 'a hobby.' It's a craft that we spend hours perfecting for the entertainment of you, our viewers, and I didn't appreciate how little he made of that. It may be just a hobby to him, but not to me.
"Now, I'd like to address his comments about gamers." He gave the camera a hard stare, as if glaring at Bill directly. "Gamers are an important faction of YouTube. We are the visual 'how-to' guides for new gamers. We tell you which games are worth your time and demonstrate why. We show you how to beat that level you were stuck on for a week. We find the one path that leads to the end – the one weakness that the boss has. We brave the horror games and the lamest games in the app store so that your playthrough is as enjoyable as can be. We find the diamonds in the rough. We make typically boring games fun with our commentary. We make people laugh just as much as any other YouTuber.
"Our audiences may not be the same, but that doesn't make you better than us. People are entitled to their tastes and opinions, and it's not okay for you to make it seem like we're a waste of space. Think about all of the young gamers that you just invalidated and insulted! You made it sound like their interests are not okay! I don't understand what possessed you to produce such a hateful video, rewatch it in editing, and still decide that it was a good idea to post it. Word of advice – stick to what your viewers request, because they are ultimately who you're making your videos for."
The brunet paused then, as if gathering himself again. He looked up at the camera sheepishly, and if Bill hadn't been upset he would've considered the young man adorable, (he still did, but he was less keen on admitting it to himself).
"I'm sorry to drag you guys down with this. Hell, there's no guarantee that this video will even reach its intended audience. I promise that I'll have a new video tomorrow to make up for it!" He gave a wink and flashed a radiant smile. "Until then, stay weird!" With a salute, the video faded out.
Bill frowned, unamused. He scrolled down to the comments, skimming the top-rated ones and expecting them to put the self-righteous brunet in his place. To his surprise, they were overwhelmingly positive, commending the teen on "sticking it to the man," and for "standing up for the little guys," and for "being bold enough to share [his] views," among other things. Many of them promised to pass the message on to Bill.
"Well," the blond thought aloud, mug of coffee forgotten, "message received."
A/N: Hey guys! So the idea around this came from a post on Tumblr a looooooong time ago, and I had promised the OP that I would write this story back then. Unfortunately, life circumstances prevented me from doing so until now, but "no time like the present," right? (Side note: if the lovely person who came up with this idea does happen to read this, I'd love to give you credit for it if you'd like me to!)
Anyway, I'm totally open to any ideas, so feel free to drop some in the comments ;)
Thanks for reading!