"Yes!" I slammed my hand down on the table, grinning from ear to ear as I looked at my notebook. Several people looked over at me in surprise and annoyance but I ignored them, feeling too proud of myself to care much about them.

"Oi~ What're you screaming for?" Jackson complained from his spot across from me, setting down his manga. Keith was sitting on my left working on a report for the lecture next week.

"I finally finished it," I grinned proudly, tapping the notebook as I leaned back in my chair. "It took me a few weeks, but I did it."

"A few weeks?" Jackson wrinkled his nose. "It took you a few weeks to write a paragraph and a half? You didn't even space it properly."

"It's an About Me, no one cares if it's spaced properly."

Keith leaned closer, eyes scanning the page. "I didn't know you had a blog."

"I don't."

"No? Then why do you need an About Me for it?"

"Well, I found this contest online challenging people to write a catchy and unique About Me with exactly 150 words. I kept going over or under so I had to keep rewriting it but I finally found one that works. That prize is as good as mine."

Jackson leaned forward, spinning the notebook around so he could read it. 

[Hello and welcome to my writing blog =) My dream is to become a published author one day because I really love to write. I have been writing off and on since I was a little kid and, while I mostly write fiction and slice-of-life content, I'm open to trying new genres, as well. 

I hope you will lend me your strength and support me on my journey to achieving my dreams. I appreciate any and all comments, hearts or likes, and shares or reblogs. Please do not be shy, I am a real friendly person! Who knows, I might even reply with a picture of my fluff ball, Karupin! ♡ 

Make sure you tell your friends and family about my work and my blog, I would be super happy if you would support me by doing so~ Take care of yourselves, and thank you so much for stopping by!]

"You don't even have a cat, jackass," snorted Jackson.

"They don't know that, jackass."

"This doesn't sound like you at all. It's too cutesy and fake plus there's not a single cuss word in the whole thing. This is not only false advertising, but it's a disgrace to your sailor ancestors!"

"The About Me is the first thing someone sees. If I acted like myself, I wouldn't stand a chance in the contest," I scowled, sliding down in my chair and crossing my arms over my chest. I know I'm not the easiest person to interact with or even like, but it gets annoying when people don't take you seriously just because of how you talk.

Keith patted my head, giving me a reassuring smile. "You shouldn't put on an act just to attract people. Be yourself and you will naturally attract people who will accept you as you are. Is it not better to be surrounded by people who accept you as you are rather than by people who want you to be a certain way?"

Both of us stared at him for a moment, stunned by his insightful comment.

"Bro, you sound like a Hallmark card."

"He's right, though," Jackson commented, leaning back in his chair.

I hummed as I took the notebook back, reading over the words I had written. They felt so out of character and fake... I felt like cringing every time I read them. Making my decision, I ripped the paper from the book, balling it up and tossing it at Jackson's face before he could react. He kicked his foot at me but missed, hitting the leg of the table.

"Ow, shit that hurt!"

"Ha! Loser," I snickered.

A short woman with her hair in a tight bun and weirdly shaped glasses speed-walked around the corner, her face scrunched up in anger as she looked at us. "Will you be quiet?" she hissed softly. "This is a library, not a concert. If you cannot control yourself, then leave."

Keith gave her an apologetic smile. "We're sorry, miss. We'll be quiet."

She huffed dramatically before turning on her heel and walking away.

"What a bitch."

"Jen," Keith sent me a stern, motherly look and I shrugged.

Jackson stood up, shaking his foot a few times. "I'm gonna go get something to drink, you want anything?"

"Drinks are not allowed in the library," Keith commented, returning his attention back to his assignment. "She really will kick you out."

"Fine~ I'll drink it before coming back."

While Jackson went on the search for a drink, I got back to work on the About Me, this time writing it in a way that showed the real me, not the fake me that I believe people will prefer.

[Yo, wassup? Welcome to my dope ass blog filled with original short stories and dank ass memes haha I was definitely a sailor in my previous life so I cuss up a fucking storm. If you don't like it, sorry ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Guess this blog ain't for you! 

If you don't mind the foul language and dark jokes, then welcome aboard! I mostly write slice-of-life, comedy, and school fics, but I'm open to new genres. Rain is a recurring theme, too, because I love that shit ♡ ☁ Brand names have been changed unless I'm fucking paid (Dr. Pepper, hit me up fam.) 

College wasn't for me and I wish I had a fur ball so I can name it Karupin and when I finally get him, we're gonna rule the book world! You should follow me now, maybe I'll remember you when we're famous haha For real, though - likes, shares, and comments are appreciated.]

I counted the words and cursed under my breath. Just eight words over the limit. Let's see, how can I fix this? For one, 'I am' can become 'I'm' and I can change 'I'm open to trying different genres' to 'I'm open to new genres.' After making a few more corrections, I finally had an About Me I could be proud of that also fit in with the contest's guidelines.

Feeling content, I closed the notebook, stretching my arms above my head.

━━━━━━༻*༺━━━━━━

I stifled a yawn as I sprawled out on the couch watching a YouTube video about some influencer that did some stupid shit and got canceled for it. To be honest, I didn't really care either way, it was just something to pass the time because I was bored as hell. 

Keith was busy studying for his upcoming university exams and Jackson was working late because his co-worker called out sick at the last minute. That left me alone to entertain myself until one of them stopped being busy.

Should I go visit Jackson at work and maybe even lend him a hand? I thought about it for a minute before wrinkling my nose. Nah, that sounds even worse than what I'm doing now.

The door clicked and I sat up, seeing Jackson in the entryway carrying a box of pizza. When he noticed me, he gave me a tired smile. "Honey, I'm home~"

I hummed, standing up and approaching him with a smile. He held his arms out, thinking I was going to hug him but I just took the pizza from his hand, turning my back to him so I could return to the couch. "Took you long enough."

He scowled, kicking his shoes off before joining me on the couch, seeming to melt against the cushions. "I'm so tired of this job, my boss is a total douchebag. When can I finally quit, Jen?"

"Did you get the info I asked for?"

"No..."

"You just answered your own question." I sent him a look, ignoring the pout he gave me as I munched on my pizza.

He groaned, sliding farther down the couch. "Why do I always get the shitty assignments?"

"Because it's the only thing you're good at."

"Rude." He narrowed his eyes at me. "By the way, did you hear back from that contest?"

"Yeah." I pulled up the email before tossing him my phone. "I didn't win."

"Damn, that sucks." His eyes scanned the email and he snorted. "You didn't even place in the top 100, that's just sad."

"I'd like to see you do better, mate."

"I would take first place," he grinned arrogantly. "That hundred dollars would be mine."

"Hundred?" I echoed with a raised brow. "You might wanna read that again."

"Eh?" He scanned the email again, scrolling to the bottom. "Eh?! F-Fifteen hundred?"

"Yep. Do you know how many tacos I could buy with fifteen hundred bucks?"

Jackson looked at me with a dumbfounded expression.

"Because I don't. Math was never my strong suit."

"Do you even realize what you've done?"

"What?"

He jumped off the couch, beginning to pace back and forth in front of the coffee table. I watched him with little interest as I ate another slice of pizza. "If you didn't change your submission to one of smartassery and cussing, you could have won!"

"You realize that you're the one who made fun of how fake it was, right?"

"Because I thought you would only win one hundred!" He groaned dramatically. "Oh man, I really could have used that money. There's this new pair of shoes that came out this month, everybody wants them but they're $800 per pair."

"Okay. First off, you wouldn't have seen a penny of that money because it was my contest, my entry, and my money. And second off, there's no way in the nine hells that I would ever let you put any of my money toward $800 shoes. That's ridiculous." I shook my head in disgust.

"You don't understand, Jen. These shoes are amazing!"

"I don't care if they're made of fucking gold, I'm not paying more than twenty-five bucks for them."

"You're such a cheapskate."

"And you're a wastrel."

"A what?" He wrinkled his nose at me. "Is this the 19th century? No one says that."

"Clearly someone just did. It's not my fault you're an uneducated swine." I stood up with a smirk, ignoring his protests as I headed up the stairs to my room.

The last thing I heard before I closed my bedroom door was Jackson yelling, "Just because you use big words doesn't make you smart!"