This had to be the single, greatest waste of time in Sonic's entire life. He had things to do, places to be, prime time television to watch, and yet, as if by some terrible miracle, he was stuck here.

Sonic kicked the wall with his toe, disturbing the cheap wallpaper and agitating the plaster in the ceiling. Tiny pieces of ceiling panel, tinted yellow with age and smelling vaguely of cigarettes, fell free and lost themselves in his quills. He groaned and shook his head, attempting to dislodge them.

"Look, guys, I appreciate your concern. Really, it's great. But this is ridiculous, and I'm going home," Sonic said, turning on his heels and marching toward the door.

"Sonic, wait!" Tails said, pushing himself in front of Sonic. "We've just been worried about you, is all. You've been locked up in your own house for days! We only thought this would be a good way for you to get out. Just try to enjoy yourself! You don't even have to take it seriously."

"Right, like I said, I really appreciate the concern. However, I think I'd rather be literally anywhere else right now. So if you'll excuse me—" Sonic said, reaching for the door handle.

"Sonic," Knuckles said, setting his hand over Sonic's shoulder. "Please, just do this for us. This whole thing is only two hours long, and we have already signed you up. Just go and then we'll leave you alone. I promise."

Sonic sighed and threw his hands in the air. "Fine, fine, I'll do it, but you two owe me big time."

Tails flew ahead, landing near the opposing wall, and pulled the door open. "Follow me! We already got you signed up. You just have to pick up your name tag."

Knuckles followed, but Sonic hesitated for a moment. He slapped his forehead and folded his arms then marched out with his head down.

This was so stupid—a total waste of his time. They could have at least signed him up for minigolf, or bumper cars, or even taken him to the dentist. Literally anything else would have been better.

He walked into the other room. It was large and empty, covered in the same ugly wallpaper and casino-like carpet that was so busy it physically hurt to look at. A table was situated against the wall, peeling pieces of paint preventing the notecards that dotted its surface from laying flat. A bored-looking hen staffed the table, looking down at a clipboard and checking things off periodically.

They entered the room, and she looked up from her clipboard and said, "Welcome to 'Let's Make a Date', Station Square's premier matchmaking service! Simply fill out this form and you'll be on your way to true love!"

Sonic turned back to his friends, waving his hands as if provoked. "Okay guys, seriously. Seriously?"

Tails took the sign-in sheet and handed it to Sonic. "Sonic, look, I know you're upset. But we really are just trying to help you. You haven't been yourself lately."

"Yeah, yeah, I literally can't be anyone other than myself. That doesn't even make sense."

Sonic looked down at the paper. It had a few basic questions about his name, sex, and age. Below that was a section for "preferences."

This was a ridiculous waste of his time. He dragged his pencil over the sheet, sloppily filling lines in and checking boxes at random.

He handed the sheet back to the attendant and tapped his foot while she rummaged through something under the table. She found another packet and handed it to him. Inside, there was more useless paper and a nametag that said, "Bob."

"Er, this is a mistake. This is not my name. I'm Sonic the Hedgehog, the one and only," he said, slapping the name tag down on the table.

"Tonight's service is blind dating, and when we say blind dating, we really mean blind!" she said, excessive enthusiasm betraying the boredom in her voice. "We keep everyone's identity a secret. You won't know who your partner is until the very end."

Sonic turned back to his friends, motioning haphazard circles in the air. "Really guys? Really? You signed me up for this?"

Knuckles folded his arms. "Do you have any idea how hard it was to get you in on such short notice?"

"If I could just get you to sign here," the attendant said, pushing another form toward Sonic. "This is the privacy agreement."

"Ugh, whatever," Sonic took the form and scribbled his name vaguely near the required area.

The attendant took the form back. "Excellent. Please, walk through this door. We here at 'Let's Make a Date' hope you—"

Sonic walked through and slammed the door.

He sighed. He was now standing in a small lobby, corridors stretching in all directions. Another attendant, this time a rooster, condensed from corner and gestured down a hallway.

"Your room is right this way, sir," he said.

Sonic jumped in surprise before slapping his forehead again. He dragged himself behind the attendant as they walked down the corridor, dozens of identical doors blurring together. They stopped at a particularly uniform door which the attendant opened.

The inside room was cut in half by a black curtain. A semi circle table with a single chair was pressed against the curtain. One wall in the room was covered by an abnormally shiny mirror, reflecting a distorted image of Sonic as he moved.

The other wall displayed an enormous television, and its screen projected dozens of other rooms with their occupants. Some people looked excited, some looked hesitant. Nearly everyone looked nervous.

"Hey, what's with this thing?" Sonic pointed at the television.

"Please take a seat, sir. Marilyn will explain momentarily," The attendant said. He slammed the door before Sonic could say anything.

Sonic threw his hands over his quills. "What the actual—"

The television cut into static. After a moment, an image of a well-dressed goat appeared behind its yellowed glass. She wore a pink blazer with tacky gems bedazzled across the front. Her hair was an unnatural mix of highlighter pink and yellow.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to 'Let's Make a Date'! I am Marilyn, your host for this evening." She drew out every syllable, her voice oozing with saccharine. "I see we have a few new contestants this evening, so allow me to explain the rules."

"Contestants? Rules? Oh no. Oh no no no. This is great. Fantastic. Those idiots signed me up for a game show!" Sonic fell into the chair and pressed his face against the table.

He zoned out as the television explain what they would be doing. This had to be some sort of horrible nightmare. He'd wake up any minute now, in his own bed. He tried pinching his arm.

He rotated his head, his cheek rubbing against the table, and looked up at the screen. The host was rambling on about some final contest or whatever and the all-expense paid prize car or something. He noted the obnoxious logo of the show in the background. It was pink, with horrible hearts all over it.

"Oh, and don't think you can get away with cheating," she said, winking. "This will all be filmed in front of our live, studio audience! If you break the rules, not only will you be disqualified, but all your friends and family will know!"

That was it. He had enough. He would stand up, leave this place, and walk right out that door. They couldn't stop him, and they would never catch him. He'd just go home and bury his face in his couch cushions. It was the only rational thing to do.

As he stood up, the television cut to the audience. He saw Tails and Knuckles arguing over who got to hold the popcorn. Tails burst out laughing as Knuckles, in an attempt to yank the bucket away, dropped the bowl all over his feet, sending popcorn showering down upon everyone sitting in front.

Sonic found himself smiling, almost laughing, before loneliness crept over him. His friends had tried to be kind to him, to help him despite his bad week and horrible attitude.

Sonic walked back over to the chair and buried his hands in his face. He had been so rude to them after they went out of their way to cheer him up. He couldn't just leave now.

He sat up. He could survive a measly two hours of this lousy game show. His relationship with his friends was more important than momentary boredom. Maybe they would even stop with their useless attempts to cheer him up.

Sonic pushed his fist against his chin and leaned on the table as the host explained round one.

"They say love is about knowing each other better than yourself. What better way to let someone know you're the one for them than through a dinner date? Before you even meet each other, order your partner's dinner! Surprise them with what you think they'd love. Who knows? Maybe you'll discover you have the same tastes!"

The door opened behind Sonic, revealing the same attendant. He carried a menu in his hand, which he sat on Sonic's table.

"Please, sir, let me know what you'd like to order your partner."

Sonic opened the menu and picked the first appealing option. "Chilidogs. Get that."

"Of course, sir." The attendant bowed before taking the menu and leaving the room.

Sonic sat in silence for what felt like an eternity, regretting the fact he still hadn't left.

The host came back on the screen. "You've all heard of love at first sight, but what about love without sight? Introduce yourself to your partner! But remember, don't look beyond the screen and don't use your real name!"

Sonic froze. Up until this point, he hadn't considered what he would actually have to do on this show. Now there were real, actual other people involved. He slammed his head into the desk, immediately regretting that decision as he sat up and rubbed the pain out of his forehead.

"Er...I guess I'll start," Sonic said, mostly to himself, still trying to forget the pain. He grabbed the papers and shuffled through them

What was he supposed to do again? Introductions?

"I'm Son—" He noticed his name card sitting in front of him. At least his partner wouldn't know it was really him. "Er, I mean, Bob. I'm Bob."

There was a significant pause before his partner replied, "Interesting. The pseudonym they gave to me is Bob as well."

Sonic scratched his head. That voice sounded familiar. It almost sounded like his own voice, although it was distorted by some type of electronic synthesizer. Sonic shrugged. This place was gimmicky enough that they were probably masking their voices too.

They sat in awkward silence for a moment. Sonic was certain it was his partner's responsibility to ask him the questions. He didn't want to put more effort into this than he had to, and he already put in a lot of effort. He rubbed his forehead again.

As the silence became oppressive, the door opened again. The attendant walked in, carrying a serving of chili dogs on a tray. He set the meal in front of Sonic.

"Wait, this is what I ordered. Weren't we supposed to order for the other person?" Sonic said.

"You are correct, sir. This is what your partner ordered for you," the attendant said, turning away.

Sonic looked at the chili dogs. They were mediocre, so completely average that he was actually impressed. The bun was stale but not that stale. The chili was warm but not that warm. He took a single bite. They at least tasted better than they looked.

Maybe Bob wasn't such a bad guy after all. Anyone who ordered chili dogs for him, at the very minimum, was sort of okay.

The television cut on again. "Now that you have started eating, let's move on to round one! You may have noticed the first sheet in your packet contains a list of questions. Ask each of these questions to your partner and remember their answer. Reminder—you may not write anything down! We're watching you!"

Sonic kept chewing. His eyes flickered to the paper.

"Okay, let's get this over with," Sonic said between a mouth full of food. He read the first question aloud, more to himself than his partner.

"If you were a kitchen appliance, which one would you be?"

He kept shoveling food into his mouth. "What kind of stupid question is that?"

He chewed for a moment in silence. Bob didn't seem like he was going to reply immediately, so Sonic decided to answer himself.

"I guess I'd be a blender. Sure, let's go with that." He started to chew on the fries. "What about you, Bob?"

There was another pause before Bob replied, "I do not like this question."

"Well, yeah, obviously this is a stupid question."

"It is not that. It is just this question is too...personal," Bob said hesitantly.

"Personal? How is this stupid question too personal? Wait, don't tell me, are you actually a kitchen appliance or something?" Sonic said.

"No, of course not, do not be ridiculous!"

The reply came too soon. Sonic arched his eyebrows.

"Let us just move on to the next question," his partner said.

Sonic finished eating and pushed his tray to the corner of the table. He threw his legs up, the table creaking in protest, and leaned back. He said, "Nope, gotta play by the rules! Come on, just make something up!"

Silence filled the room for a few seconds before he got a response.

"I suppose I would be a toaster. That is what he called me before he threw me out. Either that or whatever a...fake blender is."

Sonic rubbed his eyes. What kind answer was that?

Still, Sonic noted the sorrow that etched his partner's voice when he spoke. This was clearly a sore issue for him, and Sonic felt a measure of pity.

Sonic sighed, then laughed. Maybe he could cheer him up. "So, then, you must be a food processor!"

After another pause, his partner said, "You know what, let us go with that."

Sonic looked over at the sheet. It was on the other end of the table, and he would have to move if he wanted to reach it.

"How about you ask the next question?" Sonic said.

He heard papers shuffle, and his partner said, "Alright, let me see...If you could change anything about the way you were raised, what would it be?"

Sonic closed his eyes and reached his hands behind his back, rocking his chair. "Oh that's an easy one. I would've talked more. Despite what you might think now, I never talked much as a kid."

"Why did you not speak more? Were you not permitted?"

Sonic sighed. "No, that wasn't it at all. I just...sometime have a hard time communicating."

He open his eyes and stared at the cheap ceiling. That wasn't entirely true. Like most convincing lies, it was half true, yet omitted the important details.

He changed the topic before Bob could pry. "What about you?"

"There are innumerable things I would change about my...existence. It is difficult to pick just one. Let me see, how can I explain this?"

Silence filled the room for several seconds before Bob continued.

"Have you ever been to the store, trying to get something you desperately wanted or needed? You get there, and there's only one item left. You are relieved! They still have it! You hurry toward the item.

"And as you run, you envision everything you will do with that item. How it is exactly what you need, how it is especially suited to you, how you have been waiting for this moment your whole life.

"But as you reach for it, it is so close now you can feel it, someone else swoops in front of you and grabs it. He just pushes you out of the way and take it for himself ."

There was a pause. Sonic waited. When he was convinced Bob was finished, he said, "I mean, sometimes—"

"So you go to another store," Bob continued, cutting Sonic off. "Again, there is the item; it is the last one! And again, you reach for it. Then he cuts you off, the exact same person from before! He takes it away from you again.

"This happens your whole life. Your purpose, the very reason for your existence, is to get that item. Yet, it is denied from you, over and over and over again. That guy, he is regarded as a hero! Everyone loves him! But you..."

There was another break. Sonic sat up, feeling slightly on edge.

"You are nobody. You are his shadow, his twisted reflection…

"...you are nothing, not even a toaster."

Sonic heard himself breathing. He waited for several seconds. When there was no response, he thought it would be safe to reply.

"So, uh, I guess...what exactly is it you would've done differently? Be faster? Push that guy out of the way? Just order whatever it was online?"

"No." Bob's voice was resolute. "I would have realized sooner that I never even needed that thing."

Sonic said nothing. It was profoundly confusing, yet it brought back specific memories in his mind. He couldn't really relate; he usually got what he was after. Unless…

Unless he was more like the other guy in the story?

Sonic shook his head, opened his eyes, and looked at the sheet. It was his turn to ask a question and now he was already sitting up.

"So, uh, let's move on to the next question. I'll read it."

He pulled the sheet up and said, "For what in your life do you feel the most grateful?"

Sonic waited, giving Bob a moment to reply. When nothing happened, he sighed and said, "I'm grateful for my speed, my freedom, the feeling of the wind between my quills as I run. That sense of adventure is what really makes life worth living."

Sonic was relieved. That was an easy question. He was feeling on edge, for some reason he couldn't quite articulate, and the simple question was a welcomed break.

"Your answer is freedom? Can you explain? I do not understand."

Sonic groaned. Of course it wouldn't be that easy.

"You know, freedom is like, doing whatever you want whenever you want. It's not having to do what someone else tells you to do. I guess it's like, living life on your own terms," Sonic said.

"Interesting. I had not considered this before today," Bob said. He paused. "I suppose, then, as of right now, that I am grateful that I am as free as I can be while still being subject to the laws of physics."

Sonic had opened his mouth before he could stop himself and said, "So, uh...what?"

He immediately regretted his lack of self-control. This was too tense, too awkward. He began to feel genuine concern about Bob, to actually worry about his feelings. The thought made Sonic panic, although he wasn't sure why.

"You remember that story I told you before, the one about the store?" Bob said.

"Yeah, I remember," Sonic said, questioning why he was still talking.

"The truth was, I did not even want that item. I was ordered to get it by someone else. I had no choice. And that was the problem—I was not doing what I wanted."

"And...now that's changed?"

There was a pause. Sonic began to feel envious of Bob's ability to not blurt out immediate replies.

"It has. As of today, I am...I am finally free," his partner said.

Sonic looked around the room, seeing nothing in particular. Bob was starting to feel incredibly familiar. He couldn't discern who exactly he was, but he was certain he had met Bob before.

As he was about to ask, the television screen flashed to life, causing Sonic to jolt upright.

"Dinner is nice, but food alone doesn't make a date! Let's up the stakes, shall we? It's time to move on to round two!"

"Round two?" Sonic said in confusion. The door behind him flew open and three attendants walked into his room. One took his tray away while the other pushed the table against the wall. The third walked up to Sonic with a blindfold.

Sonic instinctively recoiled, trying to grab onto the table that was no longer beside him. He waved his hands as he stabilized himself back in the chair.

"Oh no. This is not okay. What is that?" Sonic said.

"It's for round two, sir. We will now withdraw the curtain. You will be blindfolded to avoid seeing your partner," the attendant said, walking behind Sonic and drawing the blindfold in front of his face.

"Can I skip this part? For real?" Sonic stared in horror as the dark cloth closed in on his face.

"I'm sorry, sir, but this is standard protocol. You are always, however, free to exit the contest at will. Do you want me to lead you to the exit?"

Sonic ran his fingers through his quills. He thought about his friends. They only signed him up for this because they cared. And how would Bob feel if he just left? He would probably be disqualified with no partner.

"Ugh...fine. Let's get this over with." Sonic folded his arms as the blindfold was wrapped around his eyes. The world disappeared into black acrylic.

Sonic heard the curtain withdraw, its joints squeaking in discontentment. He felt disoriented as something pushed his chair forward.

He felt someone grab his hand.

"Whoa, okay, stop!" he said, pulling his hand into his chest.

"Sir, you must hold hands with your partner during round two. It is to ensure neither of you can remove the blindfold. Again, I can escort you to the lobby if this is unacceptable."

Sonic pressed his hand against his chest. This was getting totally out of control. He could leave. He should leave. He would leave.

He would explain to his friends that this was just too crazy. It was all their fault he was here, anyway. Perhaps the three of them could just do something else tonight? It wouldn't be that hard to find something to do, even on such short notice.

Yet...Sonic had to admit to himself that was curious. If he left now, he would never know how this would play out. He would never find out who Bob really was and why he seemed so familiar.

"Arg, fine." Sonic stretched out his arm.

He felt the attendant pull his hand forward.

His palm pressed against something cold, and cool, smooth fingers gripped between his own.

Sonic yelped. He was not expecting that!

He shivered, inhaling a deep breath before pressing his fingers down, feeling the unnaturally smooth back of his partners hand.

He felt his left hand shake as it raised, cringing as another cold hand gripped him. His partner's hands felt cold and hard, as if they were made of steel, yet still flexible. He felt the tips of his partner's fingers press gently into the back of his hand. His heart raced.

They sat in silence, Sonic taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself. This was shameful, an uncharacteristic embarrassment. He was the carefree hero! Why was he on the edge of panic over a stupid game show?

The television blared to life again. "Love is truly blind, isn't it? Let's continue—as you are entangled with your destiny, I will read to you the remaining questions."

Sonic chewed his lower lip, the mild pain distracting him from his thoughts. Bob already seemed familiar, and this situation only made Sonic more suspicious. The list of people like Bob was a short one.

"This first one isn't actually a question. It's more of an exercise. Let's begin! Alternate sharing something you consider a positive characteristic of your partner. Continue until you run out of time."

Sonic thought for a moment. He needed to know who Bob was because if Bob was who he thought he was…

The thought both thrilled and terrified him.

Sonic said, "I'd say my partner has good taste in color. Blue is, after all, the best choice."

There was another pause. Sonic frowned. Was he wrong?

He heard the response. "Well, I like what you have done with your quills, even if you did copy me."

Sonic's eyes widened beneath his blindfold, his fur standing on end. His palms felt colder as he gripped his partner's hands.

He gulped. That familiar feeling, those cold hands, that insistence that he was a copy...it could only be one person.

He was holding hands with Metal Sonic, his robotic twin designed to kill him.

Worse, they were holding hands on national television.

Sonic bit his lip. He would not panic. This wasn't airing yet. They would have to edit it first. He could still be saved, but he needed a plan.

He would get up and walk out the door. He would march down to their office and demand they pull the video.

He started to get up then hesitated. Why was Metal Sonic here, anyway? Why was Sonic partnered with him of all people? Was this some kind of ploy to pull in more viewers?

And why was Metal sitting there, holding his hands, talking to him, instead of trying to kill him? Why did he seem so sad?

And...why did Sonic suddenly feel so dizzy?

Sonic shook his head. He could leave at any point. He could demand they don't air the footage after this was over. He could always stay for just one more question.

Sonic adjusted his posture and continued.

"So...uh, Bob, was it?" Sonic said the name slowly, turning it over in his mouth and paused. "I'd say that you seem like someone who can...who can think about his life and..."

He stopped. He was unsure how to phrase this. "Who thinks about his life and changes something if he's unhappy about it."

Sonic frowned. That had made more sense in his head.

Metal Sonic laughed. "You are saying you are surprised to see me here. Communication never was your strong point, was it?"

Sonic opened his mouth to protest, but choked on his own thoughts.

Metal continued, "But that is not fully correct, is it? No, that is not really your problem. You and I both know, better than anyone, that it is much deeper than that."

Sonic felt his heart pounding in his chest. Oh no. He knows. How can he know?

"It is obvious. Your problem is that you think you can run away from your problems. Oh, not all problems. Not the ones that can be easily solved with a swift kick to the face. You would never run away from anything so simple," Metal said.

Sonic wanted to jump up, to run out the door. He moved then remembered his hands were stuck in the palms of Metal Sonic. He shifted in his seat.

"You run away from problems between people, from interpersonal conflict. After all, free-spirited is just another form of avoidance."

Sonic was completely frozen. His brain frantically ordered his legs to move, but they ignored him.

"You know it is true, Sonic. I know it is true. Because, it is a problem I have too. I inherited it from you. It is one I have had to overcome myself.

"But, you know, that is also what I admire about you."

Sonic took a deep breath, trying to calm down. His thoughts collided with each other in his head. "Uh...what...? Come again?"

"You're still here, are you not? You did not run away this time," Metal said.

The sound of the television cut through the room, saving Sonic from himself.

"So, we've been positive so far, but life isn't always roses. Share with your partner the most embarrassing moment in your life."

Sonic noticed himself panting and immediately closed his mouth. He forced his heavy breath through his nose.

This was the most surreal thing he had ever experienced. Metal Sonic sitting there, holding his hands, explaining Sonic's innermost thoughts to himself.

Why hadn't he left yet?

"That is an easy one," Metal's said. "Remember that time when I turned into that stupid dragon thing?"

Sonic paused for a moment, trying to follow the threads of his own mind. He haphazardly grabbed the first one he could find. "Ha, yeah, I remember that."

Forming coherent sentences made him feel better. After all, no matter how bad this was, he wasn't the one who turned into the weird dragon thing. "What were you thinking, for real? No offense, but you looked completely ridiculous!"

Metal laughed, his distinctive electronic tenor masking the voice that could have been Sonic's own. Sonic joined, laughing at the stupid dragon, this ridiculous game show and the horrible wallpaper, at the bizarre situation, and above all, at himself.

As the laughter died down, Sonic felt much better. It would be okay. He didn't know how, but it would be okay.

And if he were honest, he was even a teeny bit glad to be holding Metal's hand.

"It's your turn. What's your most embarrassing moment?" Metal said.

"Oh, that's easy," Sonic said without hesitation. "It's this stupid game show."

They laughed again as the television buzzed to life.

"Relationships are about understanding, and we all need to be on the same page. Ask your partner: what does friendship mean to you?"

They sat in silence. Sonic noted Metal's hands were now warm from the heat in his own. It made holding them decidedly more comfortable.

Metal said, "You should go first."

"Oh, right, okay, friendship. Right. Okay," Sonic said. Metal's voice was too close, making it hard to think.

Sonic cleared his throat. "So, friendship is...it's wanting to spend time with someone else. It's caring about how the other person feels. When you have a friend, their pain is your pain. You put yourself in harm's way to protect them."

Sonic threw his head to face where he thought the camera was, raising his voice, "Friendship is when your friends sign you up for ridiculous, embarrassing game shows, and you still go along with it."

He moved his head forward again. "Because, no matter how stupid the game show is, you know your friends are only trying to help."

Sonic leaned back in his chair and exhaled. Silence filled the room, and Metal's hands were perfectly still as Sonic grasped them.

"Well, come on now, Metal, you gotta tell me your answer!" Sonic said.

There was another pause before Metal replied, "I have thought a lot about this question and I believe I have come to an answer."

Sonic gasped as Metal pulled him forward. Cold sank into his knees as Metal's legs pressed against him.

"Tell me, Sonic: what is the opposite of hate?" Metal asked.

Sonic felt hot and cold all at the same time. Half of him wanted to run out the door and the other half wanted to lean closer.

"Uhh...love? Hate is the opposite of love?" Sonic said.

"No. The opposite of hate is not love," Metal replied.

Sonic heard his heartbeat, every pulse sending heat away from his knees and into the cold metal.

"Love and hate, we like to think they are different, imagine one is good and the other is bad. But we are wrong. Love and hate are not so different. They are two sides of the same coin."

There was that pause again. Sonic felt sweat build in his quills. Something hot was near his face; he could feel it.

"And do you know what that is?" Metal asked.

Sonic tightened his grip reflexively. The heat was distracting. Where was it coming from?

"Uh...er, I mean...I don't know?" Sonic said.

"It is passion. Love and hate, both are driven by passion. By obsession. By desire to do something to someone else. Any other distinctions are superficial.

"When you hate someone, their image clouds your every thought. You fantasize about them. You live for them. You want to spend time with them. Oh sure, maybe it is not all in the nicest way, mostly you want to destroy them, but it is the same passion behind it all the same."

Sonic felt Metal squeeze his hands. It was gentle, yet decisive. Sonic found himself doing the same. The rational part of himself told him to stop, panic and excitement colliding in his mind. He moved closer to the source of heat. Warmth soaked into his face as cold leaked into his knees.

"And then, one day, it dawns on you; you did not really hate him. You hated yourself. You hated the emptiness of your life, the purposelessness of your existence. Because without him, your life had no purpose. The hatred was really directed at yourself, but the passion…

"It was still directed at him."

Sonic froze, blood rushing to his face. He should leave. This was being filmed. The whole world was seeing this. The whole world was going to know.

But...even if he could stop the film, the audience already saw him. His friends already knew.

Unsteady confidence boiled to the top of Sonic's mind, pushing his worry to the side. He leaned closer to the heat, curious as to its source. It felt pleasant against his fur.

When had he ever cared about people judging him? Why should he start now? He was free, wasn't he? If he changed his behavior based on the opinion of others, that would be the opposite of freedom.

Beside, a part of him was enjoying this. No, that wasn't accurate. It was more than just a part. He wanted to touch his face against whatever it was that was so beautifully warm.

Sonic said, "I-I think I understand. I too—"

The television interrupted again, the obnoxious, scattering buzz crashing into their conversation like a cannonball through glass.

"Argh, that's it! That's enough!" Sonic let go of Metal's hands and jumped out of his chair. He ripped the blindfold off as he stormed over to the television.

He pushed his arm along the side, feeling for a switch, for anything that would put an end to the blaring banality of this mindless game show.

Failing to find a switch, Sonic threw his blindfold on the ground and stomped on it with his foot. He repeatedly pounded the floor, making unintelligible noise as he threw his hands over his head.

He felt something grab his shoulder. He turned to see Metal standing behind him, holding his own blindfold in his other hand.

"We could just leave," Metal said.

Sonic stopped, utter blankness replacing anger on his face.

He could just leave. He should just leave. He would just leave.

"Yes! We can leave! Oh, we can finally, finally just leave!" Sonic threw his hand over Metal's shoulders and pulled him forward, pressing his chin into Metal's neck as the joyous thought of running out that door echoed in his mind.

His fur brushed against the warm, metallic surface. That was the source of the heat!

Sonic nuzzled his chin down, enjoying the warmth spreading over his clammy skin. Metal's head and chest were warm, almost hot, just like a computer. It was so obvious that Sonic was almost ashamed he hadn't realized it sooner.

He froze as soon as he felt something wrap around his back. He peeled open a single eye. All he could see was the side of Metal's head. He looked down. Metal's arms were wrapped around his waist, while his own were pulling Metal in along his back.

Oh no. Did he just...on television...?

Sonic slowly withdrew his arms, taking a single step backward as Metal let go of him. He could feel his face turning red.

"I am sorry, Sonic, did I do something incorrectly? I am trying my best, but I am still not fully versed in Standard Hedgehog Courting Protocol."

Sonic stared at Metal, his mouth hanging open. The thoughts running through his mind came to a crashing halt, stopping abruptly as if they had collided with a wall.

He stopped entirely for a moment as his mind tried to restart his consciousness. He shook his head, before breaking into a nervous laugh.

His laughter grew, becoming more confident, more purposeful. The absurdity of his night filled his mind, fueling his growing fit. He clutched his stomach, wheezing for breath, as the laughter overwhelmed him. The whole situation was so ridiculous that it became hilarious, satirical even.

After a moment, his laughter slowed and he took a single, heavy breath.

"Oh, geez, Metal, don't ever change."

He stopped and looked up. For the first time that evening, he caught a full glimpse of Metal. He noted how his armor was so shiny and perfectly smooth, reflecting a greatly improved version of the room on its surface.

Sonic's eyes traced his outline, examining his every detail, drawn in with excitement as he connected with the object of his emotions for the first time that evening. His previous lack of sight made Metal's appearance all the more exotic and exciting.

Sonic inhaled sharply, his mind reeling. His heart pounded in his chest, like he was running. He took a step forward and reached his hand toward Metal.

He was completely, one hundred percent certifiably insane. Out of his mind, even.

He didn't care, though. People would probably think he was weird or crazy, or both, but so what? Life was about living, and he was never one to hide from what he wanted.

He grabbed Metal's hand while the robot looked at him in confusion.

"Come on, let's get out of here," Sonic said.

As the pair walked out in silence, Sonic looked back at the television. It switched back to the audience, the host's rambling drivel filling the background.

He saw Tails and Knuckles in the audience. Both stared at the camera in utter confusion and surprise, mouths agape.

He would meet them later, probably tomorrow, and they would all have a laugh over this. The world-famous Sonic the Hedgehog, on a blind date with his robotic copy, in front of the whole world. Hilarious.

Sonic tried to suppress a laugh and failed, making the resulting muffled giggle all the worse. He looked over at Metal and squeezed his hand, smiling. Metal returned the gesture, his optics squinting as he displayed his emotions.

They walked into the lobby, escaping the empty platitudes of the television. As Sonic finally tried to enjoy the peace and quiet, the attendant appeared from the shadows, manifesting as if he were part of the building itself. He said,"I'm sorry, sir, but I am afraid we will have to disqualify you from the contest. Now, if you'll please follow me, I will escort you to the lobby."

"Hmm, let me think..." Sonic made an overly grandiose gesture with his hands. "Nah, think I'm done with this. Metal?"

"Agreed. Let us get out of here," Metal said.

Metal reached over and grabbed both of Sonic's hands, pulling them up to his shoulders. Sonic gasped, taken momentarily off guard, as he was pulled into Metal's chest.

Metal buried his forehead into Sonic's, his red optics filling Sonic's vision.

"Race you," Metal said.

Metal dropped Sonic and shot off, crashing through doors like a bullet. Sonic fell to the floor, dazed, before shaking his head and jumping back up.

"Why that cheating—get back here!"

Sonic rushed forward, speeding through the doors and following Metal into the evening world outside. He was grinning.

Finally, something worth his time!