‟…She dumped you."

There was a hole in his chest. He hadn't even entered the room, much less opened his mouth. Head was left empty trying to recover.

‟Uh… yeah… she did. How'd you know?"

‟…You've been avoiding her for a while." - Catti was nonplussed at the revelation, she had figured it out a long time ago. She was doing her make-up for her sister's birthday, and hadn't glanced at him since he entered. He was being read front to back without being looked at.

‟…You're bad at hiding stuff.
…I guess that's what you came to talk about."

This wasn't how the broken-hearted introvert thought the conversation would go. It was probably his own fault for doubting Catti. Or expecting tact from the class goth. Speaking of, the glitter she was putting on her claws was even gaudier than usual.

‟I-It kind of was… but now I don't know where to start." - He was emotionally 5 laps behind himself. Only now did he realize it should be uncomfortable to talk about this.

‟…When did you confess?" - She asked like she wanted to know what he got from the supermarket.

‟Uhm… at the Halloween party, when we were walking home."

This comment was apparently enough to give Catti pause. Or she was just trying to not get mascara in her eyes.

‟…That's a pretty long time ago. You must've really liked her."

‟Yeah. Doesn't matter now, though." - He looked at himself when he said that.

‟Mhm."

He lay on his back, looking at the dark purple room illuminated by the tacky mirror lights of Catti's vanity. It was both refreshing and miserable to admit it to someone other than himself. He still held hope deep inside, as if hope alone could change a thing… But he felt lighter, it was out now. He also realized a painful truth. He probably won't see Noelle anymore, now that he's rejected. Maybe as acquaintances, but they wouldn't be on speaking terms again. That's how life was, he said to himself, perched alone in his heart.

‟…So what do you want to do."

‟Nothing." - He was more honest than he'd hoped to be.

‟…With her, I mean"

‟…Still, nothing." - What could he do? As long as she likes someone else, there was nothing he could do.

‟…She still asks me to check up on you."

That was a surprise. One that shouldn't have been. Obviously, Noelle would be worried about him. She would be worried if he started avoiding her. He'd probably made her concerned over the last month, and she'd obviously not want to come near him. He didn't even realize. A hole was being burned in his too-tight-for-comfort shirt. He hadn't his pendant today. If only the Soul hadn't confessed.

‟Oh."

‟…She probably still wants to be friends."

Noelle was nice. That's really all that was in his head. That's how far his thoughts devolved. She's nice.

‟…I don't know if that could work at this point."

‟Noelle wouldn't talk about it." - It was impressive the precision with which Catti could apply eye-liner while giving him life advice.
‟Depends on what you want to do."

‟… I don't know." - It's hard to make a decision when things depend on you. He both wanted to talk to her more and didn't want to see her ever again. Someone could've given him a push.

‟It'd be nice if you two made up. For me."

‟…I'll think about it—
… Oh." - As Asriel's little brother, he knew the sound from beyond her door all too well.

‟They're here early." - Despite the make-up, her sister didn't seem enthused.

Those extrovert salvos from the entrance mean that Catty's birthday was getting started.

‟… Hey Kris." - Catti applied a drop of shine on her carbon black mascara.

‟What?" - Kris, acting in his best interest, was to leave as soon as possible. As such, he was opening the window to escape through the back yard before Catty can guilt him into staying until his curfew.

‟…Didn't think you had it in you to confess."

‟…Me neither, honestly."

Well, what he ‟had in him" was now out.

‟…Good job." - Catti actually looked at him for the first time since he came in. Her deep black eyes are very convincing of her sincerity, whenever she uses them.

‟… Thanks Cat. Talk with you later."

Catti nodded in return. And with that, he was off through the back before Dad Cat took out the barbecue grill.


‟Why are you all doing this, precisely?" - The pampered teen took his sunglasses off to be able to see Ralsei's face. Why were they even given sunglasses? It was hard enough to see anything down here.

‟Well… we just thought t-to help you relax, since you seemed a bit down in the dumps…" - Ralsei said while fanning Kris, helping him stay cool while he was ‟sunbathing".

In the dumps? Why would he think that? When they were in the Cyber World, the conflicting forces of having one half of himself try to save hometown and the other in the midst of puppy love might get interpreted as ‟a bit depressed". The few times he visited after that he didn't speak with the green prince much… There was one other possibility.

‟You made them set all this up?"

Nope. But you won't see me complaining." - Susie was fully immersed in the tropical atmosphere, drinking her mystery fluid from a bowling ball painted to look like a coconut.

‟It's about time we had a break. It's exhausting having to order 3 dads around." - And Lancer was there, with a smaller, lancer-branded beach chair, and a glass full of lighter fluid, because of course he was.

Susie barked back, ‟Heh. True… I wouldn't know though. One's hard enough as-is."

‟Oh, Dear! It sèemeth I, ‟Chef Royale", hadst been havinge problemès withè the Cèuldron! Butte do not'èst worrieth!, for thy ‟Cheèrie-ùppie Cookiese" have arrivedst! Withe the extra Milk, and extra gluten-free!" - Rouxls got a new hobby, in the meantime. And he got even less understandable. Great.
I'll juste placè themst here." - He ‟saisèth", trying to keep his drawn-on moustache and very-probably-stolen chef hat from falling off.

‟They're for you guys, feel free to take some!" - They actually seemed like, somehow, real food. Though he had no idea what was in them. And it wouldn't fill him up even if it tasted good.

‟Sweet." - Susie seemed not to mind though.

‟I'm not hungry… Actually, I'm going to my room." - Kris wasn't in the mood to mess around with everyone. He was only there because Susie dragged him out a sense of comradery, it was kind of a rule they go in together. He would rather still have been alone. People were too noisy. Too happy.

‟B-but we haven't even given you neck massages!" - Of course Ralsei could give neck massages. Just like his brother.

‟I'll get mine later."

He passed Ralsei and Susie without another word.


‟Man, I missed this room." - His voice echoed off the thick walls comfortably. Ralsei did a good job making it to his tastes. If only his other room was like this.

And that's when someone would answer him, but he ended up standing alone in the dappled darkness, looking like a lone idiot in the middle of his custom empty. And in that juncture his eyes fell on the night stand right in front of him.

It was the picture. Framed and put upright for anyone to look at. Hadn't been bothered or messed with since he placed it. He didn't want to, but a force made him sit on his bed and inquisitively put a hand on it. Which turned into a short peek. And then he was on his back, holding it up.

‟…It really is well taken." - Is all he could say, staring up at it. Critiquing the composition was a poor facade. He just wanted to look at it, like he had some sort of incurable homesickness. There has to be a word for that. Noelle's probably looked at it the same way.

It was only a memory now, the picture. Nobody from it was around anymore. Not that they were dead, but they weren't ‟there".

The girl in that picture isn't here anymore.

Noelle wasn't who he remembered. It was hard to tell at first, she still acted the same when he saw her. But on the inside wasn't the scaredy girl projected in that frame. Maybe his imagination had spilled into his foggy memories, and he'd been deluding himself the whole time. He didn't know, at that point, he had no idea. It was so far away, even if he reached into the picture he couldn't get the time back. In actuality, he didn't even remember when it was taken. Noelle probably told him.

And the boy all the way to the right, who used to only pose for pictures to try and ruin them. He's not around either.

Thinking back, It's hard to tell who the bigger idiot was, the one in the frame, or the one who brought the picture to his room. Neither was thinking about what he was doing. It's hard to judge. But then there was the third idiot, still pining over his crush, alone, in the dark. He hadn't grown at all.

That time wouldn't come back. Not even his memories of it. At this point, it's nothing more than a weak idea that he was once unconditionally happy.

Oh yeah, the word for it, Nostalgia

He should get over himself. That's something everybody has. People are waiting. He would pretend everything was normal, and he'd be fine.

He laid the picture face-down, and closed the door behind him.