Personal Message
w¡nw¡n.
"i want to dance with you all night long. i want to move to your whispers."
CUSTOMER. 
hacking life. 25. Ch descent.
ooc|timezone. 
gmt+2.
ooc|important. 
pm to plot. Without a plot i'm worthless. Awkward in ic probably unless to annoy baekhyun, no hobby shaming :)
alina baraz 
morocco.
application. 
WinWin is the alias of a Chinese hacker living in south korea. He has made a name for himself under that identity but officially, he works in a shop selling anything one would need to secure a house (or mansion). His real name is Dong Sicheng and his double life leaves nearly no room for a boyfriend. Because it is what Sicheng would be looking for if he had time to try and trust a stranger into his life. He decided to spend some of that money he made by hacking to get him a doll he would have all rights over. He knows this can't be real love, no one can buy love, but he wouldn't mind a doll for himself.
1.1 1st bf trial || 2 weeks
spotify • love - Syd, DEAN |||  
 
1.2 intermission
Sicheng slopes in the best reality there is, mouth agape, dry thoat and head heavier than he registers. A little weight on his face is never an issue when it allows the fourth dimension to bring to life your dream. A man hair bleached, a red leather choker around his neck, turns his back on him. He shakes a tumbler ice cubes clicking off beat to the trance song playing at moderate volume. The man's black tshirt is not ample enough to mask the curve of his back, the rivets of his upper spine when he leans down to reach for a cabinet. He works his magic but Sicheng is under a spell already. He blames the lulling come and go of waves and the salty foamy air of the bay hotel he is staying at. "Olive?" The man interrupted all he was doing for this technical question about martini, turning to offer a view of his face wrought by a 4D artist Winwin knows online. The Third Life VR application is by far the best fantasy, making up an environment that matches the location the gamer is at. Winwin nods silently, and the virtual AI smiles before completing the drink. He knows what follows. He knows it by heart and it gets him to rip his back off the wall and switch off the occulus. The gear finds home on the generously thick carpet of the room, the sole of his feet dipping soundlessly on his path to the balcony. The sea under a cloudy nightsky is ahead, palm trees shaken up by relentless winds that do not seem to disturb the flow of thoughts in the hacker's mind. He misses the touch matching the attention of a perfect being. He has felt it once, a boyfriend, a whim that lasted two weeks. But no more. The ideal in his head was made clear: he deserves a doll: pretty, giving, needing nothing in return. The last part, he thinks, may not befit about just any boyfriend, but he is willing to look for it. Once his time away is over. A pretty doll, obedient, needing nothing in return. Maybe two. A collection of them. His needs are simple.
 
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