The twins were standing atop the living room table, wobbling back and forth, trying to keep their balance. Trophy and Tissues stood on either side of them, holding out their arms in case they were to fall over.

"Yew guys are gonna fall ouver."

Tissues warned.

The last thing he wanted was anyone else getting hurt, especially the youngest of the bunch.

"But- but you guys haven't guessed what we are!"

Cher complained, standing on one leg. His sibling nodded in agreement.

"I know what yew are, yew're both dumb."

Reese didn't appreciate his sass, and stopped the charade.

"We were supposed to be an inflatable santa."

Tissues rolled his eyes.

"Yew both gotta get better at this game."

Trophy helped the Cherries step down from the table, both looking ecstatic.

"Your turn!"

Cher beamed, pointing at Trophy.

Thus far, he hadn't spoken yet, but the twins could see his demeanor shift drastically through the course of the game. He seemed a great deal happier, or at the very least more relaxed.

Reese felt it necessary to try and fix Trophy's mood, not only for his sake, but for her sibling. Trophy had no reason to feel so distraught over Salt or Soap, much less the ladder.

He didn't kill Soap, I did.

Reese reminded herself for the upteenth time. That thought never left her mind, no matter what she did to distract herself.

If she had to live with this guilt, she'd try her best and take it away from others.

She stood on her tippy toes, reaching both hands up to him.

"Trophyyy! Can we hitch a ride?"

She asked innocently.

Trophy beamed, his smile as sincere as ever.

He picked up the twins, letting them sit comfortably in his head's empty space. He didn't remember the last time they "hitched a ride," but the last several times were nothing more than an annoyance to him. It didn't matter if Cheesy or the twins did it, he hated it.

But not now. Right now, he was more than happy to let them pretend to be astronauts, or pilots, or even just take a nap up there.

Cher pointed a finger dramatically to the side.

"Onward! To Venus!"

He proclaimed, as they held on tight.

The pair of "astronauts" laughed and celebrated as their "spaceship" ran in the direction they pointed.

Tissues smiled to himself. Their happiness was infectious, as much as he didn't want to show it. The atmosphere had been so tense and unbearable, any sort of shift in the mood was welcome. And, anything that helped Trophy devolve from his zombie-like state was perfect.

Tissues never believed he would miss a time when Trophy could speak, when all he would say was a rude remark here or there. Never the most approachable or friendly roomate.

Maybe this was the one good thing to come out of the string of terrible events. People being closer than ever, or changing for the better.

What a corny thought.

But it was a nice thought too. A comforting one.

"Co-pilot to Pilot, this is Cher, how do you copy?"

"No good Co-Pilot, this plane's out of control! The circuits are fried!"

The twins yelled as their "plane" ran circles around the couch, pausing to laugh and stay in character.

"GOING DOWN! I repeat, we're going DOWN!"

Reese yelled just as Trophy tipped his head over, making the twins fall onto the couch.

"Co-Pilot, I think we need another plane."

"No Pilot, you need to steer better!!"

They giggled.

The Cherries turned around, wrapping their arms around their pretend aircraft. His gaze softened.

"Nothing wrong with this ol plane, Pilot! He's the best plane I ever flew!"

"He's an even better friend, Co-Pilot."

The old "plane" was content with their happiness. It was all he wanted, and he'd ensure it.

He pointed a finger to his head, offering a second plane ride. The twins cheered.

"This time, we're gonna be superheros!! Trophy's the invisible jet!!"

"No no!! I wanna be King Kong climbing the Empire State Building!!"

"Godzilla is better."

Whatever they decided he'd be, he'd be content with it.

Microphone wasn't entirely sure what to do with herself for the past few days. So many things had occurred in quick succession, she hardly had time to process them.

Today was particularly quiet, except for the Cherries current banger downstairs. She liked the quiet, it gave her time to be alone with her thoughts. She used to keep a diary to chronicle such thoughts, but hadn't done so in very long.

Maybe I should start doing that again.

Then again, the diary was never very helpful. She had often found herself more frustrated in writing than she was before, often leaving incomplete passages in the book or throwing it aside somewhere.

She was alone in her room, trying to come up with some meaningless task to distract herself with. She had nobody to speak to, at least not someone she knew she could keep a conversation with. Soap was absent, and Cheesy was not exactly the kind of company she wanted currently. She couldn't disguise all feelings with humor, it was a shotty coping mechanism.

Soap.

She hadn't fully stopped to think about Soap. When all was fully silent, sometimes she could remember Soap's face. Particularly on the day her accident occurred. Mic remembered clearly the sight of her being carted away into an ambulance.

Think of something else, please.

She fully realized how much time she'd wasted during her time on the show. Instead of trying to form meaningful friendships with as many people as possible, she was busy trying to win.

Dear Mic's Diary...

Her eyes shot open.

All the time she wasted on her.

And this was her price for it. Having nobody to turn to now. Maybe Soap would've leaned on someone else. She and Mic weren't really "best friends." So even if she was here, Mic realized she would still be alone.

Maybe I shouldn't have quit.

No. She didn't quit, she left on her own terms. It was right.

At least I'd be alone with a million dollars.

She giggled quietly to herself. Truthfully, she didn't even know what she'd do with such money.

Or half a million, I guess.

Her smile fell again.

Inanimate Insanity felt like such a distant memory, even if it hadn't been that long ago. What was it now? Three? Four years?

And still, on quiet and dark nights, she'd remember it so clearly. And on those same nights, a distant part of herself wished she had stayed. Maybe something would have been different. She would've been closer to people, had someone to call her close friend, to rely on in times like this.

She had nobody to blame but herself.

And Taco.

No, just Microphone. She waited too long, put up with too much from her. She could've said no at any time, put her foot down. But it was too much. It was turning her into a person she didn't recognize. She didn't want to become that person. No amount of money was worth it.

Mic envied people like Salt and Pepper. People who were never far apart from each other, always having company. Maybe she didn't want exactly what they had, their similarities were uncanny at times. But the idea that somebody who cared for you was never far from reach was comforting.

And now Pepper was alone too.

Oh god, how is Pepper feeling?

Her empathy skyrocketed. Pepper was like her, wasn't she? She had nobody to turn to. Pepper didn't talk with anyone else. Come to think of it, Mic hadn't seen much of Pepper at all since that awful day, the day Salt passed away.

I remember her spine sticking out from her broken back.

Mic gagged. She didn't want to picture that again.

You should talk to her.

If you can't stand the thought of it, imagine how she feels.

Poor Pepper. Poor, poor Pepper. She didn't deserve it.

Microphone got up from her bed, waiting a second for her legs to wake up.

She opened her door quietly and closed it just as softly. She took a deep breath and made her way up the hall.

Do I even know what she's like? What if she just makes fun of me, or doesn't want company?

It wouldn't hurt Mic's feelings, it would be more of an annoyance than anything. She'd still try though.

She knocked on the door, hoping her memory served her right. It was hard to be sure sometimes which door belonged to what person's room, it was all a matter of memory.

"Like- give me a second!"

Pepper called from behind the door.

A moment later she opened it, greeting Mic with a smile.

"Oh hiiii! What do you want?"

She greeted Microphone with a friendly demeanor.

"Hi! I know we don't talk much- uh- but! I wanted to know if you wanna...hang out? Or something?"

Mic proposed.

Pepper put a hand to her head, deep in thought. Mic waited anxiously for her answer.

Wait- why am I intimidated? She's not..scary. Get a grip!

"-I'd love to hang out! What did you have in mind?"

She responded at last, chipper as ever.

Microphone was a little taken aback, not expecting this much enthusiasm from someone who watched their best friend die horribly not too long ago.

"Uh...Well! I um- was thinking.."

Mic hadn't thought that far ahead. What was she even planning to do? She just needed to see if Pepper was okay mentally. She had no idea what they could possibly have in common to do together.

"Hmmm? Thinking...what?"

Pepper interrupted, a tad impatiently, but friendly nonetheless.

"Well-! Ah..."

Microphone sighed.

"Okay. The truth is, I don't know. I really..."

She paused. Pepper looked up at her with curiosity.

"I just don't...want to be alone right now."

Pepper's expression was unreadable. Mic couldn't tell if she was offended or just uncaring.

Just say something. Cmon, this was a stupid idea. Tell me to go away or something.

"I don't want to be alone either."

Mic swore she heard Pepper choke up. When she looked up, there wasn't a trace of sadness on her face.

"How about this! Meet me downstairs at 6. I'm sure one of us can think of something by then."

She smirked.

It wasn't judgmental or insincere, it was warm, kind. It was like she and Microphone had known each other forever.

"I...Like that idea!"

She beamed.

"See you then~!"

Pepper waved, and Mic swore she was about to say something silly like "Toodle-loo!"

"See ya!"

Mic waved back, walking with a skip to her room.

That was nice.

She had no idea Pepper was so...approachable? Was it because Salt wasn't around? Maybe Pepper just conformed to her sass and attitude to please her.

I hope we can be friends. Maybe she'll stay like this, even after Salt gets back.

A friend that wouldn't bring bad memories, one that she could lean on in a bad time. Maybe she'd let Pepper lean on her too. Maybe it was the start of something amazing.

Pepper waited for Microphone to vanish back into her room before closing the door.

She waited even longer till she was sure Mic was out of earshot.

Oh my god, that was so weird.

She let out a looooong sigh.

She supposed it was a sweet gesture. But in all honesty, Pepper couldn't have cared less. She didn't really want to hang out with Microphone, or anyone for that matter.

What the hell are we even gonna talk about?

She grimaced, imagining the awkwardness.

Pepper didn't know for how long she could keep her sweet attitude for consistently, she only ever put it on around others. All to keep the facade that nothing was wrong.

Though, she caught onto the stares. She worried that maybe she was acting too happy. Acting like nothing happened was probably more suspicious than putting on a sad, mopey face every time she left her room.

That's too embarrassing, I'm not gonna fake cry for all these people.

She wasn't a good actor to begin with, so she settled for acting as she really felt, just not explaining herself.

I hope Salt doesn't get jealous...not that Microphone is anything to be jealous of.

She giggled to herself.

Honestly, who even was friends with Microphone?

Maybe that's why she's coming to me for "company."

She stopped, realizing something.

Wait. Why did she come to me?

She and Mic hadn't ever talked, as far as Pepper remembered. So why...?

...OH! That bitch!

Did she think Pepper was some friendless loser??

WELL I'M NOT!

Screw Microphone, Pepper had PLENTY of friends. Just because Salt wasn't in the hotel didn't mean she was lonely.

...Even though I spend all day in my room or by myself, waiting to talk to Salt?

Surely that didn't mean anything. She just couldn't wait to see Salt, nothing else in her mind held meaning. Yet again, nobody had really come to check on her in those first few days after...

Oh shit.

Maybe she was a bit lonely.

Well I'm NOT a loser.

Yeah. She remembered Trophy, that stupid brute. He never left his room either, but unlike her, Pepper made an effort to go outside and keep up appearances. Plus, he looked awful, and Pepper wouldn't be caught dead looking nearly as awful as he did.

Though he did come to check on me.

She abruptly remembered the other day, when she broke that mirror. People had actually come running to check on her.

Trophy was one of them.

Microphone was one of them too.

Well now Pepper definitely felt like a loser.

She would go hang out with Microphone. She decided she'd want to know better a person who made even the smallest effort to ensure she was safe.

We'll see. Still, she's not Salt.

Plus, this meetup bought her more time to think of ways to sneak Salt into the hotel.

Maybe I can even ask her for advice-

She almost facepalmed, catching the stupid thought before she dwelled or considered it further. She would sound like a lunatic trying to explain the situation.

This is something she had to do alone. For Salt.

This was just a harmless hangout. A distraction from the main goal.

Besides, what's the harm in one more friend?

That word almost didn't feel right attributed to someone who wasn't Salt. It left a bad taste in her mouth.

Acquaintance. That's all she is.

Nothing more, nothing less.

OJ rocked slowly back and forth atop his bed. The turmoil in his head hurt more than the headache he'd been trying to fight off since yesterday.

He wasn't entirely sure how to salvage his situation, but he knew the first course of action was atoning for what he did to Tissues.

I didn't mean to hurt him.

That was the truth. At least in his mind.

I hope his face didn't hurt too bad. The couch is soft he's probably fine-

No, no that part didn't really happen. Yesterday, he had sprayed a bottle of cleaning chemicals in his face.

Right. Right...I hope he doesn't go blind.

That was the worst case situation. He couldn't fix that.

No he's fine. He could see that couch just fine to clean it.

No, worst of all would be what everyone else would think of him. Paper seemed indifferent, but that's how he was. Let everything slide.

And the Cherries, he probably scared the living daylights out of them. What kind of jerk yells like that around children? They don't do anything. In fact, he was just trying to help them.

They probably could've gotten sick, and they didn't need that right now.

He could hear the twins laughing downstairs.

Maybe they hadn't been that affected that badly.

He didn't have to cause a scene like that.

Great job, OJ. Fan fucking tastic.

He didn't help anything or anyone, he made it worse. Maybe if he stayed in his room, this would blow over faster. Everyone was moving on just fine, even Pepper, why couldn't he?

It was just a matter of playing the waiting game. Salt would be back. Soap too.

Everyone would get over it eventually, perhaps distance was his best option.

But nobody thanked me.

However, OJ couldn't ignore how all his effort thus far was ignored. He had basically helped everyone get over the Salt incident, taking charge, acting unafraid. Nobody thanked him.

But they had a great time telling me how to run this place.

OJ always did the shopping, organizing events, and if it wasn't for Soap, cleaning the place. He even noticed the hotel becoming noticeably dustier recently in her absence.

This place would be a pigsty without me.

Now that he thought about it, when had he ever been thanked?

Half of these people would have nowhere to go without this hotel. Without me.

Was it so much to ask for, just a little appreciation?

Everything that happened was not his fault. He did his best, he really did. Nobody else was even trying.

Pepper is fine, though. Just perfectly fine.

Pepper was the smart one here. She knew Salt held her back after all, didn't she? She'd seemed happier than ever, despite her supposed "BCFGF" or "BCCCFB" or whatever the hell the acronym was, being dead.

Maybe he should be more like her. She knew to drop the meaningless things. It just took Salt leaving indefinitely for her to realize it.

At least, until she gets recovered

But what if she never got recovered?

That would be amazing.

He smiled.

There was no reason to feel guilty. He felt ridiculous now, worrying about something so redundant. This was his hotel.

I can do whatever I want. You don't like it, you can leave.

Only the good ones, the people who made him really happy, they could stay.

Paper, Bomb, Pickle...

And maybe the people that followed the rules, they respected him. Or people who made this place more interesting.

Microphone, Pepper, Cheesy...

He was wasting time here. He had responsibilities. An establishment to run.

He would carry himself professionally. He'd do it right. There was no reason to yell at anyone, cause a scene. He would be respected.

This is my hotel. I'll run it how I want.

Cheesy and Fan walked through the front door with a bag of groceries and a pair of smiles that were infectious.

"Hi guys!!!"

Reese shouted from atop her and her brother's tall throne.

"Helloooo, my favorite fruity fellas!"

Cheesy greeted enthusiastically.

He glanced at Trophy, who met his gaze with a smile.

"And hello to you, Mr. Horseplay."

He smiled back.

Trophy stepped forward, while the twins sat comfortably in his head.

"Fan, fan lookit! We're in the invisible boatmobile!!"

Cher explained, pretending to move a steering wheel with his hands. Trophy made audible car sounds, mimicking the engine.

"Brrrrrrrr...."

Cheesy and Fan perked up. It was nice hearing Trophy speak, even in sounds. He seemed at ease, and in turn they felt a great deal happier.

"That's not what the invisible boatmobile sounds like-"

"Shut up Reese UH OH THE ENGINE IS ON FIRE!!"

Trophy mimicked an explosion sound.

"Blehhhhh and we're all dead.."

The three older objects were on edge again, the very mention of death feeling inappropriate.

"Ah- well! Where's Paper? We need to deliver an order of OJ insides for our favorite grumpy manager."

Fan joked.

Trophy shrugged, looking around slightly.

Cheesy took the bag to the kitchen, placing it carefully on the counter.

"Paper? Hello??"

He called out. There was no response.

Cheesy took out each jug of juice, lining them up on the table.

"Hey Paper, get in here, OJ needs a fix of this stuff before he gets any more stressed!"

He muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

"Thanks, Cheesy. I'll take that."

OJ responded, his voice mere inches away from Cheesy.

He whipped his head around, not expecting his presence. OJ smiled at him.

It was not a comforting expression. It felt robotic, almost practiced.

OJ stepped forward, taking the lid off of the juice jugs and casually pouring them into his head. As he filled himself, he let out a sigh of relief. He went through each jug until he was satisfied.

"That's much better..."

OJ expressed in a relieved tone.

Cheesy didn't take his eyes off him for a second. Something didn't sit right with him, he was off. But he couldn't tell exactly what it was.

The twins stopped their session of playing pretend, OJ's voice unsettling them into silence. They didn't want to even think about him, his shouting having imprinted into their minds.

They tried to hide themselves in Trophy's head, despite the lack of room.

Trophy didn't fear OJ's presence, but he knew the twins didn't feel safe near him.

This is what you're here for, get them out of here. Make them happy again.

He tip-toed as quietly as he could past the kitchen, headed for the stairs.

"Cherries, can I talk to you in here for a sec?"

The twins both went pale simultaneously.

Cher hid his face in his hands, wishing OJ would just vanish. He didn't want to get yelled at again.

Reese on the other hand knew hiding wouldn't do anything, so she answered.

"Y-Yeah..? What is it?"

She timidly awaited an answer. None came.

"Reese, I don't wanna talk to him."

Cher whispered.

Trophy took a step up the stairs, but stopped when he felt a hand on his back.

"Guys, come here."

OJ tried to sound sincere, but his tone came off more as impatient.

The twins moved as far back in Trophy's head as they could.

"You guys, I wanted to apologize about what happened yesterday."

Reese perked up.

She didn't expect an apology, especially not directed towards them.

"Why...are you apologizing? Shouldn't you talk to Tissues?"

She asked quietly.

Cher didn't make eye contact with OJ, he just leaned off the side of Trophy's head, trying to look casual.

OJ's sympathy dissipated, and he took a more stern attitude.

"I just saw you two first. Of course I need to talk to him. But you should know, it's rude not to accept someone's apology."

OJ stated, as if the twins were babies. His voice was condescending in a subtle manner.

Trophy picked up on this, and it pissed him off. He knew OJ was trying to intimidate these kids into accepting a fake apology, but he didn't know he had the gall to do it in front of him.

"It's okay we accept the apology!! Water under the bridge!!! No hard feelings!!!"

Reese exclaimed.

She really just wanted the conversation to be over, whether or not she actually forgave him.

OJ seemed satisfied. Trophy however was not.

He glared at OJ, the distaste clear on his face.

"Trophy, can we go upstairs?"

Cher mumbled, putting a hand on the rim of Trophy's head.

"Hey Trophy what's wrong? You can tell me."

OJ sing-songed.

Why is he talking like that?

His demeanor reminded Trophy a bit of Salt, not only in how he carried himself, but his speech.

"Trophy please..."

Cher whispered again.

OJ peeked up at him.

"You know, it's not safe to be running around up there. Don't wanna fall right?"

The twins looked at each other, then down at Trophy.

"Um...yeah. Let's get down."

Reese went to jump down, but OJ abruptly grabbed the twins, pulling them down from Trophy's head with carelessness.

"HEY-!!"

"No no stopppp.."

They whined, clearly not wanting to be near him.

When he put them on the ground, they ran behind Trophy, peeking out from behind his back at OJ.

"We're going away! Upstairs! Alone!"

Reese yelled.

Trophy took a step forward, as if attempting to intimidate OJ into backing off. The glass seemed unphased.

"Calm down. I'm just trying to look out for you."

He grinned.

Trophy felt unsettled by that smile, it was uncanny.

He took a few steps back, the twins following in his footsteps.

"Like, excuse me~!"

Pepper came down the stairs, pushing the twins and Trophy aside, back into OJ's line of sight.

Trophy made an effort to not look at her.

"What's going on? OJ, are you gonna start screaming at people again?"

Pepper quipped.

Fan and Cheesy eavesdropped, tension rising around them.

What are you doing? Stop talking.

Cheesy wasn't sure if Pepper was doing it on purpose, or she was just dense. Regardless he wouldn't allow her to cause another scene. Not after they were so close to feeling okay again.

"Hey, hey! Nobodies gonna yell at anyone. OJ's just..."

He didn't want to sympathize with him, but he wanted to diffuse the situation. Anything to stop it.

"-OJ is..uh...trying to fix his mistake?"

He finished.

"...Oh. Right! Because- Trophy and the Cherries were the ones that got Mr. Clean's Magic Spray in the face."

Tissues perked up from his spot in the living room. He had been spaced out till now, but Pepper's attempt to put OJ in his place was interesting to him.

"I really owe you all an apology, Pepper. You're right."

OJ shamefully admitted.

Pepper scoffed.

"Why? I'm not Tissues. Are you maybeeee...too scared to talk to him?"

She moved her hand in a wavy motion, as if correcting herself.

"No no, the right word is coward."

She smiled.

Trophy and the twins were aghast. Pepper might as well have been poking OJ with a stick, because it was obvious she wanted to provoke him.

"Uh...hey.."

Mic murmured from halfway up the stairs. Pepper glanced up, waving at her.

"Oh hiiii! I was waiting for you!"

She greeted, just as happily as she'd spoken to OJ.

Mic had heard the entire exchange, and had no clue what to add to the conversation. So she just stood there, silent.

"Come on down, I don't bite. Neither does he!"

She said, gesturing to OJ.

Microphone practically ran the rest of the way down the steps, taking her place behind Pepper.

"Aw, don't be shy. OJ's not scary."

She giggled. Mic attempted to laugh with her, however it didn't match the energy and sounded more unnerved than anything.

"Of course I'm not. Y'know I'm glad you're feeling better Pepper."

OJ attempted to sound genuine, but the annoyance was clear in his tone.

"Aw thanks...You sure know how to show someone animosity..."

She jeered.

"Are you trying to make me angry or something?"

"OMG! Not at all. I just saw you here, and wanted to strike up some chit-chat!"

OJ was not convinced in the slightest.

"Well we really don't talk much-"

"-And we totally should! Gosh I've known you for like, forever, but we hardly hang out!"

"Salt sure liked hanging around me."

Mic let out a tiny gasp. Pepper seemed unphased still, keeping the same expression without falter.

"I know she did, silly. Though I'm not sure why! Anyway, I've got better things to do than talk with you-"

"-Then what was this even for?"

"Aww, you know I like to joke around sometimes."

"No, I don't know that. And no offense, but who else do you even have to talk to?"

OJ couldn't hide his smirk as he uttered the last sentence. However, it vanished when he looked around and noticed the stares. Another crowd of onlookers.

What the hell are you all staring at? I'm not yelling. I'm calm. I'm doing my job.

"Well, OJ! Didn't you know me and Mic are good friends? Maybe not BCFFs, but she's so near and dear to me~"

She cooed, though Mic didn't know if she was being mocked, or it was a sincere statement.

"Y-yeah! We- we were gonna hang out just now."

Mic abruptly interjected.

"OH! That's nice. It's good to know you're totally fine."

"Hehe! Yeah, better than you, Mr. 'I shouldn't have to explain this to you a million times!'"

The crowd around them didn't dare make a sound. It was less of a crowd though, and more of several people trying to eavesdrop in plain sight, but still trying to keep their distance.

Pickle, Bomb, and Paper stood very close to one another, hidden behind the door to the kitchen. Though, they weren't hard to spot, and just stood awkwardly off to the side so OJ wouldn't see them easily.

They felt a bit guilty, hiding from OJ like that, but he seemed so far from the friend they knew.

"P-P-Pepper l-leave OJ a-alone."

Bomb muttered, and Pickle nudged him to be quiet.

"Hm? Oh hello boys!! Why is everyone so shy? C'mere!"

She shouted to them.

She sounded so friendly, much in contrast to the expression on OJ's face. It was stern, serious, and unloving.

"Hey, Pep- um..."

Mic started, unsure of how to finish her sentence. To her shock, Pepper's expression shifted at her words, and she looked up at Microphone with shock.

"Pep?"

Pepper repeated. Her gaze seemed longing.

She shook herself back to attention, smiling again.

This smile felt more genuine to Mic.

"I wonder if you'll both make Salt jealous when she gets back."

OJ thought aloud.

What did you say?

Pepper felt something she couldn't quite name.

Did OJ really think Salt would be jealous?

It's just Microphone. She could never replace you, Salty-Salt.

Salt was on a completely different level.

She was an essential part of Pepper's life, without her, she didn't know where she'd be. Salt couldn't be replaced on a whim like that.

Pep.

OJ didn't even give a damn about Salt. What right did he have to comment on her?

What's so special about you anyway? What did she EVER see in you?

She had enjoyed messing with him, and even more watching OJ's stress consume him entirely over the course of the week. But mentioning Salt was a cardinal sin.

"Us? No, Salt knows I could never replace her."

She should hate you. She'd despise you if she could hear you right now.

"By the way Pepper, I'm surprised you don't have a problem with Trophy."

The aforementioned stopped dead in his tracks, having tried to sneak off with the twins again.

Pepper looked at him, seeming apathetic.

Then an idea popped into her head.

"Why?"

She asked, purposely attempting to sound dimwitted.

OJ's mouth gaped at her blasé attitude.

"Not to be harsh..."

He started, slowly raising an accusatory finger at Trophy.

The twins looked up at him, and his golden exterior reflected his dread.

"But you and he had a little altercation-"

"-OJ STOP IT!"

Paper bellowed.

He stood mere feet away from him, attempting to seem intimidating.

"OJ- why are you saying these things?! We all know. Nobody wants to be reminded!"

"But like...I still don't get it."

She asked with a dull tone.

OJ turned fully to face Trophy, as if completely ignoring her.

"If I were you, I wouldn't accept his attitude."

He coldly stated.

"WHAT ATTITUDE?!!"

The single-leafed twin screamed.

OJ was slightly taken aback at the outburst, but stood his ground.

"He's just sad! Everyone is sad here! Why are you being mean to him?!"

Cher stomped his foot in frustration.

"Y-YEAH! You and her are adding to the gross feelings here, everybody is uncomfortable here because of you!"

Reese added, gesturing to both glass objects.

Trophy looked down at them both, then at OJ. He looked powerless.

Say something.

"Trophy's a good friend!"

Say anything, you idiot.

"He's always been nice to us!!"

How could you let them do this? Defend you, as if you can't.

"You don't get to talk about him like that when you hurt Tissues!"

You broke the promise you made to yourself already. You can't even protect two kids.

"If there's anyone we don't like being around, it's you OJ!"

I'm sorry. Really, I am.

Trophy shook and trembled as the twins shouted their protests, not allowing OJ to speak even for a second.

"SO if you wanna get to him you gotta get through us!"

They finished.

OJ's gaze lingered for a moment on the children, then slowly moved upwards to Trophy again.

"Do you feel good about yourself?"

He asked with a customer-service grin.

"You need these kids to defend you, hm? What a tough guy."

Trophy attempted to retreat into himself, but the twins yelled their objections again.

"YEAH!!! TOUGHER THAN YOU!!"

Reese shouted, looking up to face him.

Her energy dissipated and the color drained from her face. Trophy was practically unrecognizable, a pathetic, miserable bootleg of the person he used to be, or even compared to what he was mere hours ago.

"Reese, I know you look up to him."

OJ started again, softly.

"But you can't be that naive. He's a big part in what's been going wrong around here."

Some of the previously hidden audience were now stepping closer, forming a real crowd.

OJ welcomed it this time. He'd be calm, collected. Remind everyone what's really going on.

"All of a sudden people are nice to you, which I think is great! But I'm also concerned that you might ot have done anything to deserve that."

If it was possible to lower his head any further in shame, Trophy would've tried.

"I want things to go back to normal as much as anyone, I'm doing my part in fixing my wrongdoings. But you haven't done that."

I didn't want this to happen in the first place.

He wanted to yell, to try and explain himself. But he didn't have any excuses.

"After all this blows over, don't be shocked if that attention disappears."

I never wanted attention. I was fine with things before.

"And...As much as I hate to admit it, I think the only reason people are being this kind to you..It's not sympathy, it's pity."

I know that.

"I don't think this all would've been as bad as it was if you were in the same boat as Salt."

Something inside of Trophy snapped him back to attention. He took a second to digest the last statement.

Sometimes, he had wished the same thing. But hearing it from someone else hurt so much more than he could've imagined.

"And honestly, Soap might've been back by now."

He looked up immediately.

"What?"

Trophy asked, in a voice so low, OJ almost didn't think it was coming out of his mouth. It actually startled the twins, who didn't recognize it. They looked into the eyes of the stranger.

"Oh I'm sorry. I think I forgot to tell you."

OJ's smile was gone, and he spoke to Trophy as if he was a teacher reprimanding a disobedient child.

"I know you really just wanted to help her. But I got a little phone call not too long ago..."

He dragged out each word, hoping they would stick in Trophy's head.

"To make a long story short, if you hadn't run to help her or whatever you tried to do...She would've pulled through...faster maybe. I'm not sure."

OJ stated, sincere as ever.

He looked back at Trophy.

He wore a thousand yard stare, like he'd just witnessed something horrible. As if OJ's words cut right through him.

Trophy didn't move, he almost didn't blink.

How did things fall apart so fast? It hadn't been that long since things had been relatively normal. Why hadn't he appreciated that?

He had a place to live, surrounded by kind people. People that attempted to form bonds with him, despite his nasty attitude and downright unbearable personality.

If OJ really was insinuating that he should've died with Salt, then he agreed with the notion. He wasn't good at fixing anything or protecting anyone. And now he just stood there, still as a statue. The world around him didn't even feel real.

"...But hey! There's nothing to do about it now! Let's all just do our best to get along now, alright?"

OJ declared happily.

Pepper was not only shocked, she was completely flabbergasted. The sheer audacity of OJ's words left her speechless. They might've even left Salt speechless had she been there.

OMG he literally just told this guy to die and I think it's working.

She did her best not to burst out laughing.

Pepper was truly impressed. She still couldn't stand the mere sight of OJ, much less like him, but if this was what Salt saw in him, she almost understood it. This side of OJ was interesting and extremely entertaining to her.

Trophy's knees gave out from under him, making Pepper notice the faint scars scattered around his legs. She knew they came from the glass shards that were once stuck there, which to her also seemed like a distant memory.

He sat on the ground, limbs sprawled around him. The twins took the tiniest step forward.

"Trophy?"

Reese timidly asked, reaching a hand out to him.

He covered his face in his hands, and began to sob hysterically.

The twins immediately stepped back, too frightened to speak.

It took all of Pepper's strength not to laugh now. She didn't particularly think crying was funny, but this was so out-of-character it was ridiculous.

She'd originally planned for OJ to yell at her, just to give her some sympathy from the surrounding residents. But seeing this made her glad she didn't get the "stern talking." It was almost as bad if not worse than what she expected, but so much more effective.

Trophy bawled like a baby, crying at such a volume, all occupants of the hotel could hear it; even those who weren't a part of the crowd formed. The atmosphere was unbearable. While some wanted to get closer to Trophy, or move the twins away, or something, but OJ's gaze was commanding. It read as "nobody say a damn thing."

His cries were painful to listen to nonetheless. Some felt an immense pity, others an immeasurable discomfort.

Poor guy.

Can he please stop crying?

When is he gonna shut up...

Trophy, please get up...

Pepper scanned the faces of the onlookers. When she met Mic's gaze, the tall one gestured for the door.

"Let's go."

Mic whispered, barely audible.

Pepper was resigned to the decision. She'd seen enough of this, and at this point it was uncomfortable. She walked to follow Mic, but hardly moved an inch before she felt someone holding her back.

To her shock, Trophy was clinging to her side, still sprawled on the ground.

"I'M SORRY!"

He wailed.

"What the HELL?!!"

She shouted back.

Pepper wasn't so offended at him grabbing her, more so the embarrassment of someone crying in her grasp. It was humiliating.

"LET ME GO!!"

She shouted once more.

"I'M SO SORRY!"

He wailed again.

Pepper had no clue who or what he was apologizing for. Why was this directed at her?

Her eyes lit up as she realized.

He's sorry...about Salt?

A small grin stretched across her face.

"Oh, like, of COURSE I forgive you!"

She softly replied, putting a hand on the rim of his head.

Trophy stopped shouting, and looked up at her from the ground.

"Huh??"

"I said I forgive you, dummy! I never held a grudge."

OJ's casual smile fell off his face as she uttered those words.

Excuse me?

Pepper softly pat Trophy's head, as if she was petting a cat.

"Everything that happened was an accident. It's nobody's fault."

She reassured him.

The light came back in Trophy's eyes.

The previously still crowd of hotel residents perked up one by one, offering their own words of encouragement, not only to Trophy, but to themselves.

"Yeah...That's all it was. An accident."

Pickle remarked.

OJ looked at him, more betrayed than angry.

"We should really stawp living like something bad is gonna happen again.."

Tissues stated, sniffling a bit.

"Th-the f-faster we get o-our-selves together...Th-the faster e-everything w-w-will go back t-to n-normal."

Bomb added.

Every interjection and hopeful remark made OJ's skin crawl.

Pepper did that. Not you.

Pepper, of ALL people, brought this hotel together. His hands started shaking.

You...you...

The both of them locked eyes. Pepper was looking back, happy as ever.

I hate you so much. Drop dead already.

The cherries ran to Trophy's side as he finally got back on his feet, Pepper pulling him up by the arms.

"Hey, like this is sooooo random, but do you wanna hang out with us?"

She asked.

Trophy looked around, confused.

"Me?"

He asked, in that same low and nearly unrecognizable voice. Pepper giggled, shaking her head.

"No, I was talking to the air. YES YOU! Me and Mic would looove some extra company. Isn't that right?"

She turned to look at Microphone, who nodded along.

"Yeah! The more the merrier, right?"

"Soooooo true!"

Trophy looked at them both, a look of bewilderment and amazement stamped on his face.

"So what'll it be??"

Pepper held out a hand to him.

He looked down at the twins, as if looking for their approval.

Reese nodded at him, a weak smile creeping up on her face.

"Yes. Y-yeah. Alright."

He spat out. His voice was beginning to resemble that of what it was usually.

Pepper grabbed his and Mic's arms, running off into a deeper part of the hotel.

OJ followed them with his gaze. His cold eyes didn't touch Pepper though, her impenetrable happy demeanor was infecting all the hotel's residents, no, infecting the halls themselves, seeping into every crack and corner. The smiles of every occupant returned. This is what it was supposed to be like.

It's not right. I was supposed to do that.

OJ wanted to be given the credit for such peace. He put in the work. He handled everything. He had just tried to prove himself, and what did he get?

This is my goddamn hotel. I'll be the one to fix it. Not you.

He got dirty looks from his supposed friends. And they stood against him, not with him.

My hotel. Not yours.

He'd be the one to fix it, or break it into pieces.