"Lincoln, we've arrived." Sophia's kind voice woke the white-haired boy.

Looking out the window, Lincoln saw they were in Great Lake City. And wow, just wow...

He wasn't some bum who never left his hometown. He went to other cities, states, countries, and even this city. But now it looked different. It could be that this is just a nicer part of town, but it looks amazing. The sidewalk and road are clean and well kept, there was greenery in the scenery, and the buildings were all in pristine condition. The neighborhood was either very recent or incredibly well kept. Either way, it was awesome.

Lincoln took his backpack and two bags before following his parents upstairs to the apartment. The building was as nice from inside as from outside. There were both stairs and an elevator, the latter of which they took since they were carrying Lincoln's things.

Sophia unlocked the door to the apartment and Walter put down the boxes before leaving to get the rest. "Sophia, go show him his room, I'll go get the rest of the things."

Lincoln's eyes were lit up. His room? Not a closet, a room?

Winter was already inside, but when Sophia came in, she took off her shoes. "It's okay, you don't have to take your shoes off."

"No, it's okay." Lincoln didn't want to be rude. He was used to wearing shoes, but the Whites didn't live like that. Both Winter and Sophia took theirs off, and by the size of slippers on the floor, he could tell Walter did too.

Sophia nodded. "Come now, I need to show you around."

The front door led into a short hallway covered by a gray carpet. To the right of the door was the way to the living room. To the right was the door to the bathroom. Like the rest of the apartment, it was clean and orderly, a far cry from the one he had grown accustomed to. The door after the bathroom was his room.

The entire apartment had white walls, and his room was no different. There was a window on the wall left of the entrance. The room had orange curtains and carpet. All of the furniture, bed, desk, dresser, wardrobe, and nightstand were made from light brown wood with occasional orange, such as on the drawers or doors of the wardrobe. The closest in size would be Lucy and Lynn's room, but the lack of a closet and different dimensions made it difficult to tell. Regardless, it was better than anything he expected.

Lincoln dropped the bags, taking a moment to just look around.

"Is something wrong?" Sophia asked worriedly. There was too little orange, she knew she shouldn't have taken Walter's advice. "If you don't like it w-"

"No, I love it, It's just... I don't have words..." Lincoln said. This big of a room, and it was all his. He didn't think this day would come until he owned his own house, and even then it was a maybe.

Sophia sighed in relief. "I'm glad you like it. Let's just give you the tour of the rest, and then I'll leave you to unpack."

His mother led him to Winter's room. The only difference was the different colors and the window being on the wall in front of the door. After that, she led him to the main room. The living room, dining room, and kitchen were all attached. From there, there was a door that led to a small balcony, and a door that led to his parent's room.

After finishing the tour, Sophia led him back to his room. "I'll call you once the pizza arrives, you just settle in until then."

After she left, Lincoln brought in the boxes from the hallway and started unpacking. As he was organizing his clothes, Walter returned with the remaining stuff.

"Do you need some help?" He asked, fishing around his pocket for something.

"No, I'm good."

"Let me know if you need anything." Walter found what he was looking for. "Here, this is the apartment key, the front door key, and the mailbox key." he pointed to each key individually before handing them to Lincoln.

"Thanks."

"No problem." Walter said. "Did Sophia tell you the schedule and plans?"

"No..."

"On workdays, meals are pretty much whenever you are hungry. On weekends we eat lunch and dinner together, at around two and eight. If that's a problem, you're free to eat whenever you like. The building has quiet hours, from four to six and ten to seven in the morning. And for bedtime, when do you usually go to sleep?" Walter ran through the list in the back of his head, making sure he didn't miss something.

"There wasn't a fixed time. Some of my sisters would stay awake until ten and some until eight, so I would sleep whenever was most convenient." Lincoln replied.

"Is ten okay with you?" Walter asked.

"Yes."

"Good, great..." Meals, building rules, sleep... "Right, school. Winter will give you the tour on Monday. Tomorrow, we're going on a tour of the city, so you know where's what. If you have some places you'd like to visit, give us a head's up beforehand."

Ronnie Anne wasn't too far away from here, so he could get to the parts he was in quickly. "I will let you know. Thanks."

"No problem. If you need anything, you can always ask." Walter left the room and closed the door.

When Lincoln finished unpacking, the room was only a quarter full. There were only a few models he couldn't hang up now, but other than that it was all out, and it was a little disheartening. He was so used to having just a dresser that he didn't even use the wardrobe and had no problems. Most of the stuff used to be under his bed, and most of that stuff he never used, and most of it he left behind. Looking at the empty room brought him a weird kind of sadness. It isn't supposed to look this empty. He saw his friends' rooms and none of them looked like this. Maybe it was just the novelty of not being in a closet, but still. It made him feel like he was deprived of something. Like he was forced to sacrifice, his space, his interests, his time, so that others could have theirs.

It was something everyone did, even he could understand that, but seeing your room half empty feels weird. The guest room at Clyde's wasn't this empty, though it was mostly used for general storage.

Would it be better if he had brought all that junk with him? The broken toys - his and his sisters - the costumes, the boxes of old books and clothes, the random stuff that just happened to be with him. He wouldn't use any of it, but it would fill out the space, make him look more interesting. Is that it? Does it feel like he's uninteresting and empty? A room is an extension of the soul that lives in it, so an empty room has an empty, bland, or disinterested occupant. He wasn't that! He was interesting, just not fully defined.

That junk was what defined Lincoln Loud in Royal Woods. A Lincoln made by the Louds. The things he brought are the things he thought important to who he was so everything left behind was dead weight. The empty space wasn't the sign of his failings to be a person. The empty space is a space he can define. With new hobbies, new parts of old hobbies, new memories, new dead weight. Whatever he wants!

Having finished, Lincoln decided to see what Winter was doing. Who knows, maybe the room was actually supposed to be empty.

He could hear a piano coming from Winter's room. Getting curious, Lincoln knocked on her door before getting permission and entering.

Her room was much more filled out than his; also, whiter. It went well with the other colors, white goes well with every color, but it gave him that girly vibe he couldn't shake off. The room was clearly lived in. There were books on the shelves, toys on the floor, and even a couple of medals. It wasn't packed to the brim like he was used to seeing, but it was far from empty.

"Yes?" Winter saw he got lost in her room and decided to help out. She had a test for the piano, and she hadn't practiced enough to pass it. Could she use the excuse that she had to help Lincoln? That could work for school too? I couldn't do my homework, I had to help my new brother get adjusted. It could work for him too, only he would say he is still getting used to the city. They could use that for a week at least. Too bad they had nothing that would be worth using for next week.

Lincoln came back to reality. "Oh, I just wanted to see how you are doing. And, you know, see your room and stuff." Lincoln looked around a bit more before he took in the whole room. "So, you play the piano?"

"Yes, I have been practicing for five years. "Winter said before looking over the pages in her notes.

"That's cool." Lincoln said. "Mind if I try? I hadn't played keyboard in quite a while."

"You can play the piano?" Winter got up to let him sit.

"I wouldn't say play, I just know some basic stuff." Luna taught him the basics of all her instruments. He forgot nearly all of them in a day, but the few that stuck well. Lincoln looked over the board, trying to remember if the piano was one such instrument, before getting his fingers into position and playing a rough recreation of Winters piece. He knew where what was well enough for it to have a passing resemblance, but he knew it made Winter's ears want to be dead. When he finished, he looked at Winter, who looked back with a bit of an awkward smile.

She didn't play that song right, and he did it worse. Sure, she could tell it was the song, and the notes were in the general correct order. But that was just horrendous.

"Wow, Lincoln, I didn't know you could play the piano." Sophia said. Play might be a strong word, but a little encouragement wouldn't hurt.

"Only a little." Lincoln replied.

"If you want, we can get you a teacher." Sophia offered. "I'm sure Winter's teacher wouldn't mind giving you a lesson or two, so you can try it out."

Lincoln had his fair share of narcissism. However, if Lola played what he just did, she would have said it was terrible. A deaf man could tell him that was awful, and he was painfully aware of it. Luna made this look way easier than it actually is. Granted, he hadn't touched a keyboard that wasn't from a computer in months, but still. It was bad. So, a class would help, right? It would, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to. He was better at the guitar. Developing that further would be a smarter choice than picking up the piano. But, trying it wouldn't hurt, and it's not like he has a choice. If he says no, he will come off as lazy or ungrateful.

"Sure, trying never killed anyone." Lincoln tried to play it cool. No might be a wrong answer, but a too eager yes wasn't a right answer either.

"I will see when Winter's teacher is available." Sophia said. "The dinner is ready; you can come when you are hungry."

"Okay." Lincoln got up and went after his mother.

Winter followed suit. He can come when he's hungry? She has to come when they call her. And on that topic, why can he choose to go to music classes? She can't. One day, they just told her she was going to start playing piano, and that was it. No discussions, no alternatives, no trial period, just a keyboard and regular classes. The classes weren't bad, her teacher was a nice old lady on the floor above them, but that's beside the point. He can pick, she can't. He had a guitar, meaning he was playing it, so it might just be the case of her parents wanting to make sure they weren't overburdening him. But no one made sure that wasn't the case for her. She has school, piano, and gymnastics to balance, and she can't drop any of those. Who cares if she has to go to a piano class right after school, or if she has to come home and then run to gymnastics class. She's not their daughter, so why should they care?

For dinner, the Whites ordered Pizza. It was an unspoken rule that they would eat pizza at least once a week. Sometimes, you are just too tired from work or don't have time to make something from scratch, and if there are no leftovers, taking out is the only option. Not that anyone minded.

Describing the meal in one word would be awkward. The parents didn't take their eyes off Lincoln. For the most part, it was silent.

"Do you like your room?"

"Do you want another room?"

"Do you need something for the room"

"Is the pizza okay?"

"Was there something else that you wanted?"

"Do you want more?"

The answers were: yes, no, no, yes, no, GOD NO. He cannot remember the last time he was satiated from pizza. He would have to fight ten girls just so he wouldn't be hungry. Looking at the remainder of the pizza made him feel like he lived in a third-world country until now. "On most nights, Lincoln has fought for his meal. But, today, he watches in awe as he is full for the first time in his life." a deep reporter voice says from the recording studio as he uses all of his mental fortitude not to take another slice, feeling the food climbing back up his throat.

He knows the Whites aren't a part of the upper point million zeros one percent, but he can't help but feel like it. Seriously, they have a dishwasher. Not eleven dishwashers, as Luan joked, but an actual machine that washes dishes. He didn't even fully register it until Sophia told him about it when he went to wash them manually.

The dishwasher brought another thing to his mind, chores. Walter told him that he would just have to clean his room. That was a given to Lincoln, but that being all was unimaginable.

Even with all his awe at the basic house appliances and lesser chores, Winter wouldn't leave Lincoln's mind. She gave him those Lucy vibes. Not in the dark and foreboding sense, but in the introverted and emotionless ones. For most of the day, she ignored him. It suited him well, he didn't want her to give him special treatment like his parents might be, but a cold aura radiated from her. Apathy or disdain, he couldn't tell which it was. He couldn't always tell with Lucy either, hiding half your face and stilting the rest will do that. Winter's was on full display, and it was still not fully readable. Was that just how she looked? He saw people that just looked bored. They can be anything but that, but their face just looks bored, angry, or sad. Only time will tell.