Despite it being past noon, Porsha was still wearing her sci-fi pyjamas while she slumped down on the couch, miserably shoving pretzels and marshmallows into her mouth and nonchalantly flicking through the channels.

"Hey, Little Miss Lazy, I thought you had a swimming lesson today...?" Ash's playful tone betrayed a hint of genuine frustration as she came in, glancing over at the TV to see what her melancholy roommate was watching.

"As you can see behind me, clean-up efforts are still underway on the elaborate stage, that was reportedly intended for a special performance by the cast of the New Moon Theatre..." The reporter continued. "While the other acts for the rest of the festival are still on schedule, Ms. Fletcher has not confirmed whether the Moon Troupe's performance for the final night will proceed as planned."

"Ugh... you can't keep watching this, buddy, you're just gonna depress yourself."

"Too late for that... hey!" Porsha straightened up a bit when Ash swiped the remote out of her hand and turned off the TV, before rolling her eyes with a groan. "If you're gonna try and gimme a speech or something, Ash, I really don't wanna hear it!"

"Well that's too bad, cause I'm giving you one anyway!" Ash couldn't resist pulling a smirk, though her tone remained serious. "Look, I know we're going through a lot here, Porsha. The show, your swimming, Nana... yeah, it all sucks. But you sitting around here watching TV and eating junk food isn't gonna fix any of those problems, is it?"

"And how is me not doin' this supposed to fix 'em, then?" Porsha snarked. "What, you want me to roll up my sleeves, put on one of those yellow hat things and build the whole stage back up...?! I might dress like her for Halloween, but I ain't Wonder Woman, Ash!"

"I know you're not, because I don't want you to fix the stage." Ash crossed her arms. "I want you to get your goggles and your swimsuit, and go meet Rosita for your lesson."

"Ugh, what's the point?"

"The point is that holding it off isn't gonna make it any easier!"

"Oh yeah, cause you and Johnny know all about holding things off, don't ya...?!" Porsha barked, this sudden outburst making both herself and Ash go wide-eyed. After a long, drawn-out moment of silence, Porsha curled up in embarrassment as she looked down. "Ugh... sorry, Ash, I didn't -"

"No no, it's okay, buddy, you're... you're right..." Ash sighed with a small smile. "Yeah, I do kinda like Johnny. And y'know, maybe... maybe he likes me too, I dunno, I just... I've thought about it a lot, been kinda back and forth on it all the time, but... but that's just been making things harder."

"Yeah..." Porsha whimpered.

"And I guess I've held it off so long, the time to do it's probably come and gone, y'know...?" Ash continued, stifling a self-deprecating laugh. "Like, what the heck am I supposed to do? Walk up to him and say HEY! I've had a crush on you for years, wanna go out some time?! Y'know, it... it's too late for me. But it's not too late for you, Porsha..."

The young wolf hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "Nah... Rosita was wrong, Ash, my... my spark's gone, and I... and I really don't think I'm ever gettin' it back..."

Ash felt her heart sink a little as Porsha shrunk back even further into the couch, before pulling a mischievous smirk as she walked over to the speakers in the corner. "Alright, I didn't wanna have to do this, Porsha, but you leave me no choice..."

Porsha shot up as she heard a familiar bouncy tune playing from the speakers, looking over to Ash while the porcupine started swaying her hips along to it.

"What are ya doin' now...?" Porsha tried to sound irritated - and to a certain extent she genuinely was - but she couldn't completely disguise her amusement when Ash turned to face her, pulling a goofy smile until she started singing along.

I threw a wish in the well
Don't ask me, I'll never tell

I looked to you as it fell
And now you're in my way

"Seriously...?" Porsha rolled her eyes as Ash continued singing. "Come on, man, it's not funny..."

Your stare was holdin'
Ripped jeans, skin was showin'

Hot night, wind was blowin'
Where you think you're going, baby?

Ash finally busting out some dance moves while she belted out the chorus. While she slipped in a few of Gunter and Rosita's steps from their Shake It Off number, the porcupine mainly found herself using some of the bouncier moves that Buster had taught her with this very same song not long before that.

Hey, I just met you
And this is crazy

But here's my number
So call me, maybe

It's hard to look right
At ya, baby

But here's my number
So call me, maybe

"Ash, seriously, I'm not in the mood!" Porsha whined playfully, though this didn't do anything to slow the porcupine down as she whipped her head back and stuck a sassy pose.

And all the other boys
Try to chase me

But here's my number
So call me, maybe

"Come on, buddy, up you get!" Ash ran over and latched onto Porsha's hands, pulling the wolf to her feet despite her half-hearted attempts to resist.

"Ash, really, I just... ugh..." Porsha soon found herself shuffling and jerking her arms up a little. "Dammit, I am not gonna start singin' this with ya right now!"

By the time the next chorus rolled around, Porsha had gone from quietly mumbling the words under her breath to belting out the chorus right alongside her roommate.

Where you think you're going, baby?

Hey, I just met you
And this is crazy

But here's my number
So call me, maybe

And all the other boys
Try to chase me

But here's my number
So call me, maybe

Before you came into my life
I missed you so bad

I missed you so bad
I missed you so, so bad

Before you came into my life
I missed you so bad

And you should know that
I missed you so, so bad

For just a few fleeting moments, all the fears and worries that had been weighing on Porsha's mind - her mother, the show, Meena, Nana - all vanished into thin air. She was just singing, dancing and giggling like a school girl with her best friend, and nothing and no else mattered.

It's hard to look right
At ya, baby

But here's my number
So call me, maybe!

The enthusiastic fist pump and dramatic pose Porsha struck mad Ash burst into laughter as they sang the final verse, the porcupine feeling a sense of both happiness and pride that her impromptu cheering up plan had succeeded with flying colours.

Hey, I just met you
And this is crazy

But here's my number
So call me, maybe

And all the other boys
Try to chase me

But here's my number
So call me, maybe

Before you came into my life
I missed you so bad

And you should know that

So call me maybe!

Ash tensed a little from Porsha's high-pitched, excited squeal. This only serves to catch the porcupine more off-guard when the wolf suddenly dropped to her knees and dragged her into a tight hug, though it didn't take long for her to return the embrace.

"Feeling better now, huh buddy...?"

"Yeah, a lot..." Porsha chuckled as she slowly tightened her grip, making sure not to prick her chin on any of her friend's head quills. "Thanks, Ash."

"Hmm... you're welcome, Porsha..."


The mid-to-late Autumn chill had finally settled on the town, and a particularly gloomy set of clouds cast a dull shadow over the Perkins Home For The Infirm. It made for a much colder journey than Buster's previous visit - especially since he was cycling there alone this time - but with neither Suki or Ms. Crawly speaking to him, he didn't have any other mode of transport beside his trusty old bicycle.

"Oh hey... look who it is..." Lindsay sounded more mellow, but still friendly enough, as he entered the reception area. "You here to see your mother again, Mr. Moon...?"

Buster hesitated for a moment or two, then nodded. "Uh, yeah... she awake...?"

The main room was more-or-less abandoned, since most of the residents were either asleep or simply doing other things in their own rooms, and the emptiness allowed Buster to spot the wooden piano that was still set up in the corner. The nostalgic memories of playing that very same piano for the residents when his mother was first placed here - which had made quite a strong first impression of both Bernie and her family - did help to briefly lighten Buster's mood a little, though his more pessimistic thoughts slowly came back as he approached the door to her room and climbed up to open it.

"Oh... hey there, kiddo..."

Bernie sounded slightly more energetic, though still fairly deadpan, as her son slowly sauntered in. She clambered down off the bed to get the remote from the side table, switching off the TV that was still broadcasting the Calatonia Wharf's reconstruction.

"Yeah, um... hi, Mom." Buster still wasn't looking her in the eye as he made his way over to the dresser. "How you feeling...?"

"Eh, I'm okay... been trying to pick out an outfit for your show." Bernie slowly pulled her closet door open. "Not a hundred percent if I'm going yet, but I guess I better have one ready for it, huh...?"

"Nah, it uh..." Buster shook his head. "It's over."

"What is...?"

"The show... it's dead." Buster sighed. "We're not doing it anymore."

"What, cause you trashed the wharf...?" Bernie snarked with a dry chuckle. "A little property damage never stopped you before, kiddo."

"Well yeah, but... a lot's happened, Mom..." Buster put a hand to his face, quickly trying to change the subject. "Anyway, I came here cause, um... well... Suki thought you might want this back..."

Bernie's eyes widened a little when Buster reached into his pocket and pulled out her Crescent Of Courage. She gently took it out of his hand and stroked her thumb across it, pulling a small, nostalgic smile.

"Hmm... um... thanks..." Bernie thought for another moment or two, biting her bottom lip. "It's cause of Nana Noodleman, isn't it...?"

Buster sent a sad grimace her way, which seemed to answer Bernie's question as the older koala gave a knowing sigh.

"Yeah... it's a shame. Was never much of a musical fan, but... but I really did like her..." She said after a prolonged silence. "I mean, never actually met her, but... I doubt she would have wanted you cancelling the show, son."

"No, but... but it's not just Nana, Mom, it... it's everybody!" Buster groaned. "Alright, I really screwed up here, worse than ever, and now they all hate me!"

"Ah, don't be so dramatic..." Bernie rolled her eyes. "Folks screw up and fight over things all the time, Buster, it's not the end of the world..."

"Yeah, well... if you even knew the half of what's been going on here, you'd get it."

"You're still in one piece, aren't you?" Bernie said with a raised eyebrow.

Though Buster didn't answer her question, his eyes did widen a little as his mother said this, briefly recalling when his recently-departed mentor had said the same thing a few years.

"Right..." Bernie seemed to harden a little, clicking her tongue in what sounded like disapproval. "So, that's just it then, huh? After everything, you just throw in the towel, give up?"

"Well it's not exactly like I have a choice here, Mom..."

"Says who...?" Bernie nearly laughed, but she remained fairly firm. "You're a lot of things, Buster, but you were not raised to be a quitter!"

Buster didn't acknowledge her, so Bernie simply shrugged. "Well, whatever... I'm just glad your father's not here to see to see you like this."

"No no, don't even... ugh! Don't talk about Dad, okay?!" Buster snapped, his fierce tone briefly taking Bernie off-guard. "Dad worked his tail off for thirty years to help me buy that theatre! Y'know, he... he gave me everything, his love, his support, everything that mattered! All you've ever given me is contempt!"

"Really...?! Well, where do you think this necklace has been all this time, huh...?!" Bernie held it up, though this gesture only served to infuriate her son even more. "Don't forget this old trinket helped you buy that theatre of yours, you ungrateful little -!"

"Oh yeah, you can bet I won't forget... selling a stupid old necklace you never even wear!" Buster cut her off harshly. "Heck, it's probably the only thing you won't forget, isn't it?!"

Bernie was taken aback for a moment or two, having been hit a little too close to home by that last cutting remark from her son. But she soon regained her stern, scolding demeanour, her glasses managing to conceal the misty glaze forming on her eyes.

"Buster Keaton Moon, I am your mother, and you will not speak to me like -!"

"Oh come on, you were barely a mother!" Buster blurted out angrily, taking Bernie and even himself off-guard, but this did little to quell his rage as he continued venting it out. "Face it, you're nothing more than a sad little old lady wallowing in misery! It's all you ever have been, and it's all you ever will be!"

Bernie bit her bottom lip, slowly straightening her glasses, before taking on a softer tone that almost sounded like a strained, hurt whisper. "Is that really what you think of me...?"

Buster didn't answer, simply lowering his ears and looking away. Bernie waited a few seconds more, not entirely sure what for - an apology, more insults, any kind of response - but sank back a little in disappointment. She took another look at the necklace in her hands, pulling a scowl as she tossed it to the floor with a loud, metallic CLATTER!

The younger koala tensed a little as it landed at his feet, glancing over at the still perfectly-intact jewellery while his mother returned to sitting on her bed. He let out a small sigh, carefully picking up before he clambered up onto the dresser and reached for Bernie's old, seemingly empty jewellery box.

"Well... at least you can stop complaining now that you've got it back, huh...?" He snarked bitterly, letting out a frustrated groan when Bernie didn't answer. "Eh, who am I kidding. If it's not this, you'll just find something else, right?"

Undoing the crescent-shaped latch in the centre-front, Buster slowly lifted up the lid of the box, pulling a small grimace at the old, crumpled up bits of white and yellow paper and cardboard that it was filled with. Rolling his eyes, he began flicking and pulling some of it out to make room for the necklace that was supposed to go in this box, but stopped himself when he noticed a familiar logo on the top corner of one of the sheets: New Moon Theatre.

"Wait..." Buster studied it for another moment or two, his eyes finally widening in realisation when he uncrumpled the small, paper rectangle and realised what it was. "Is... is this one of mine...?"

It was a ticket. Clearly used, evidenced by the approved stamp on the front and the small tear in the top left corner, and the title of this performance was emblazoned in big, bold letters right in the centre: Rosie Takes A Bow.

"Oh my gosh..."

It was then when Buster recognised the same formatting on all the other pieces of paper in the box, and the various shows and titles they were for - War Of Attrition, Vampire Rabbit, Alice In Wonderland, Romeo And Juliet, Beauty And The Beast, even one for the Majestic Palace's first production of Out Of This World. And at the very bottom of the pile was an all-too-familiar sheet of yellow paper, one that Buster had also hung up framed on the wall of his own office - a flyer falsely advertising a 100,000 prize for the Moon Theatre's amateur singing contest.

"You saw all of them...?" Buster finally broke his awed silence as he looked back to Bernie, though his mother still wouldn't turn to face him as she remained sat up on the corner of her bed.

"I did..." She sniffled with a nod, taking on a sadder tone. "I know I've never exactly been the theatre buff, and I might not have been the... the fun parent, like your Dad was. But... but I made sacrifices for your dream too, Buster... and I could do with a little appreciation for that."

"Mom, I... honestly, I never -"

"Oh, don't even bother!" Bernie finally snapped, turning away again as she crossed her arms. "You've said your piece, and I've said mine. Now get out!"

"Mom, please..."

"I said get out, Buster!" Bernie barked, taking on a quieter tone as she looked down. "Let this sad little old lady wallow in misery on her own..."