As we approached the Mystery Shack, our bags slung over our shoulders, I couldn't help but notice the changes to the outside. The place looked... well, different. The roof wasn't sagging as much, the walls had a fresh coat of paint, and even the lawn seemed tidier with a few freshly planted flower bushes lining the walkway. The sight of it all made me pause for a second. It was the same Shack we'd left behind, but more cared for, almost like it was ready to greet us with open arms. It was a strange contrast to how I remembered it last summer when the town felt so boring. Now, everything seemed oddly serene.

We walked up the creaky steps, and as I reached for the door, I heard the familiar jingle of the old doorbell. The sound made a wave of nostalgia wash over me, and I half-expected to see Wendy at the desk with her feet up, bored out of her mind, or Soos leading a group of confused tourists around, proudly showing off the latest "Mystery of the Month." But as we stepped inside, the Shack was eerily empty. There was no Wendy, no Soos, not even a stray tourist wandering around. Just silence.

Mabel and I exchanged confused glances. "Where is everyone?" I muttered, more to myself than to her. The whole place felt off—too quiet, too still.

Waddles snorted beside us, apparently unconcerned, and trotted off into the Shack like he owned the place. Mabel didn't seem to care much about the empty room or the lack of noise. She was focused on finding everyone, eager to reconnect.

We decided to check out our old room, figuring it would be the first place that felt familiar. As we pushed the door open, I was hit with a wave of déjà vu. Everything was exactly the way we left it—the beds, the posters, even the little knick-knacks scattered around. It was like time had stood still in this one room. But as I looked closer, something felt... off.

There wasn't a speck of dust anywhere. No cobwebs in the corners, no musty smell that usually clung to places that had been closed up for months. It was spotless, almost like someone had been in here, keeping everything just as we left it. The thought made me uneasy, but I brushed it off, not wanting to worry Mabel.

She, of course, didn't even notice the lack of dust. She was too busy bouncing on her bed, excitedly chattering about all the people we were about to see. Her enthusiasm was infectious, but I couldn't shake the strange feeling that had settled in my gut. Where was everyone?

The Shack itself felt... too clean. Everything had a place, and that place was just too perfect. The countertops were spotless, the shelves organized, and even the old knick-knacks seemed to be arranged with a weird sense of order. It was almost unsettling, like the Shack had been scrubbed clean of its usual chaos.

"Maybe they hired someone new?" I wondered aloud, glancing around. "Someone who actually likes cleaning?"

Mabel shrugged, her attention already drifting. "I texted Grenda and Candy when we got into town, but I haven't heard back yet. Maybe they're planning a surprise party or something!" Her eyes lit up at the thought, and before I could say a word, she grabbed my arm and started dragging me around the Shack, searching for everyone again...

"This is weird," I finally said, stopping in the middle of the gift shop. "Maybe we should head into town and see if we can find them there."

I grabbed the keys to the golf cart, and as I did, I noticed something strange. The keys were new, shiny even. And when we stepped outside, the old, beat-up golf cart was gone, replaced by a newer model. It was still a couple of years old, but way nicer than the clunker we'd been using before. A weird feeling gnawed at me, but I pushed it aside as we all climbed in, with Waddles squeezing into the back seat. I started the engine, and we headed into town.

As the golf cart pulled up to the gathering, the atmosphere shifted from the tense uncertainty of the Shack to a warm, bustling scene in the heart of town. I could hardly believe my eyes—everyone was here, and the streets were alive with activity. Long tables were set up, laden with an array of delicious foods and colorful decorations. It was like the entire town had come together for a giant cookout, a celebration I hadn't expected but was thrilled to be a part of.

Wendy was the first to spot us. Her face lit up with that familiar easygoing grin, and she jogged over, a sense of relief washing over her features. "Dipper! Mabel! We were starting to worry! What happened? Why weren't you on the bus?"

Before I could answer, Soos bounded up to us, his signature enthusiasm radiating. "Yeah, man, we saw the bus trying to leave and thought maybe you'd missed it! We even tried talking to the driver, but he didn't speak any English. We thought something might have gone wrong."

As if on cue, the bus pulled away in the background, its departure a comical punctuation to Soos's explanation. The sight made me chuckle despite the nerves still jangling in my stomach. I explained that we had gone straight to the Shack only to find it empty, so we decided to come into town to see if anyone was here.

Pacifica stepped forward, her appearance startling me a bit. She looked different—more polished and confident than I remembered. My feelings were a mix of surprise and confusion; I wasn't sure how to handle these new emotions. "Oh, sorry about that! We thought you'd be stuck in traffic for longer and didn't want to set up the party too early. We're really glad you're here now!"

Her words were meant to soothe, but the sight of her—more vibrant and self-assured than ever—stirred up a whirlpool of emotions. It was hard to ignore the feelings bubbling up as she smiled at us, her presence forcing me to confront how much had changed.

Meanwhile, Wendy gave me a friendly nudge, her casual touch a reminder of how complicated my feelings were. I tried to maintain a calm exterior, but inside, I was battling a storm of awkwardness and nostalgia. I was still grappling with my feelings for her, and now seeing Pacifica in this new light made everything more confusing.

As we walked into the center of town, I noticed that Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford were missing. It struck me as odd—they were always involved in the festivities. The absence of the two people who had been central to so many of our adventures left a hollow feeling in my chest. I tried to push it aside, focusing on the more immediate joy of reconnecting with old friends.

The party was in full swing, with people like Candy and Grenda mingling, and even some familiar faces from the town's oddball population. The air was filled with laughter and chatter, the kind of atmosphere that made Gravity Falls feel like a true homecoming. Mabel and I were immediately swept up into the festivities, but my mind kept circling back to the missing Grunkles and the strange feeling that something was amiss.

Despite the joyous surroundings, I couldn't shake the unease creeping in. Everything felt right, yet there was a nagging sense that things weren't as perfect as they seemed. I tried to push the thoughts aside and immerse myself in the celebration, but the underlying sense of something being off lingered in the back of my mind, ready to surface at any moment.

~~This chapter is a bit shorter than usual, coming in at just over 1.2k words. I've been juggling multiple writing projects at once, so you might notice that some details are a bit sparse. However, once I find my groove, I'm confident the storytelling will flow more smoothly. I hope you enjoyed reading, and thank you for your patience as I work through these projects!~~