When she thought her heart sunk in the beginning of reading this, it happened again and again, and again. Luna grimaced, pulling away from the laptop. A nauseating read on just how desperate one has to be, to let themselves be trampled on in order to make ends meet.

Even when they didn't need to.

"Why would you do this, sis…" She murmured, pulling a hand up to rub her sore eyes. On second thought, never mind. She was done asking, done calling out to an empty line.

She thought she was, at least.

This wasn't just a formal address to the principal; this was a diary page. Feeling suffocated as her hand returned to the mouse, she scrolled to the very top of the page. A shitstorm of a novel that… that wasn't even fictional. No wonder why she was the way she was.

It was ruthless, a massacre of a high school experience, that's what this was. As much as she wanted to, Luna couldn't feel bad, though. How could anyone? She brought this onto herself. She took the choice to keep it in. There were twelve other people she could easily rely on, but she didn't!

No, she was stubborn. Painfully so. Luna returned to that night. She knew this… group project system was a matter of circumstance, yes, but Luan just took it as that. She just let herself fall victim to what she knew was the predator. That was Luan to you; she could dish it, but couldn't take it. She'd target teachers constantly with her pranks, and, assuming this was retribution, she couldn't handle even an inch of it.

And now what? She was having panic attacks out of nowhere now? She was just shying away from authorities? This wasn't the Luan she knew. This wasn't Luan at all. She wasn't this… irrational. She knew when to stop.

Or did she?

God, it was stupid. So dumb. To devote yourself to something, not because you enjoyed it, but because you felt inadequate.

"So… how was it?" She whipped her head to the door, found Luan leaning on it with a sad smile on her face. "Was the writing okay?"

Under different circumstances, she would've snapped. She would've demanded answers, slap her in the face to snap her out of her irrational daydream; but seeing Luan right there, a shell of herself, pale and sickly as she was… all the anger left her in an instant. She was hurt- no, she hurt herself, all because of this drive she had to succeed. Ambition shouldn't have to be a bad thing, but in her case, it was poisonous. Stemming so deep into her system, she wouldn't allow herself to have a moment of respite.

But how could she be mad? Luna knew what that was like. Working hours on end to write songs, draining her creative juices until the music lost its rhythm. Until she'd eventually just toss her sheets in the trash and delete her voice notes out, to call it a day.

"Uh… y-yeah. S'all good." She shrugged, the words coming out in a frantic stammer.

But that's not what Luan did. That was the problem. She never gave up. Even when her body was already giving in.

She had to admire the courage though. Even if it was to a whole new level of stupid.

The elephant in the room was right in between them. Luna stepped out of the stool, briefly flashing eyes with her before retreating to her bed. She picked her phone up from the nightstand before heading up. No use in wondering anymore. No use in asking what she already knew.

She heard Luan step in and close the door behind her right as she held on the rung. "I never wanted this, you know," Luan started. "The drama, the panic attack, the… dropping out… all of this."

"I know. But we're here anyway." Luna settled on the mattress, leaning back against the pillow. She turned her phone on and shoved her hand into her sweater. "How's your head?"

"Still aching." She responded rather awkwardly.

Nobody dared to speak up. Not after that. Luna opened the lock screen to her phone, greeted by the familiar sight of Mick on her home screen. Should she… walk out? A part of her contemplated, but with the way Luan was acting, something told her she wanted something.

And for a moment, the tiniest glint of hope lit through her. Pave the way, sis. She thought.

Not trying to be too ambitious though, Luna frowned, watching Luan's back as she shut her laptop off. She was so near, yet so far. "Then what's up?"

"Nothing…" Luan started sheepishly. Although a little off the shelf, it was something Luna wouldn't reject. She liked giving those whenever she had the chance.

Plus, there was nothing better she could have right now.

She pursed her lips and rested her arms on the bed. "My back kinda hurts." She started, giving Luna a knowing look. "Could you…?"

Luna shook her head, a soft, half-hearted chuckle leaving her lips. She put her phone down. Her smile covered up the millions of questions she wanted to ask. How did the panic even begin? When did it start? How'd it feel like? What did the counselor tell you apart from the letter? What about- "Sure, dude. Get up here."

Upon climbing up, there was a slip of light bathing the vacant wall, one she shadowed as she positioned herself cross-legged before her older sister.

The tension was squeezing into the midst of their silence. And for a room that held the loudest, most chaotic, performers of the Loud house, Luan could hear her breathe, notice the slightest shift in it, like she was holding it in. Or maybe she was just overthinking. She felt Luna shift behind her, probably into a more comfortable position. Her hands hover over her shoulders, and Luan couldn't help the tight grin tickling her cheeks. "Where does it hurt?"

"In my heart," She chided, and got a half-hearted scoff in response. "But seriously… start with the shoulders."

Say no more, that's what she heard in Luna's stillness. Without saying another word, Luna pressed her thumbs onto the knots on Luan's shoulders, her calloused fingers kneading the muscles near her neck with deftness she was all too familiar with.

And just like the magic her hands brought, given an instrument to play, the world was swept under her feet. All of the bridled tension in the room vanished as Luan's head cleared, every bridled thought of need for connection, of worry for rejection, gone in that instant. Luan didn't know if playing instruments and massages were connected, but God, she had to admit Luna had talent lying in her hands. Her shredding was so rough, it could shrill through your spine, but her massages, even the softest ones, could turn you boneless.

"So… you done writing your letter?" Luan snapped out of her euphoric daze.

Good start. Good start. "Yeah…" She said. "Just hope it gets, you know, approved."

Luna's hands drifted to the palm of her back, and she slumped; suddenly, what was she so upset about again? Why were they so awkward lately? "With the way you wrote that? Rivers wouldn't even need to read the whole thing." She slowed her movements down, and the air shifted. "So, it was all that… all of that happened to you, huh?"

"Uh-huh. All of it in detail."

Noticing Luan's shoulders stiffening at the acknowledgement, she placed her hands back up to loosen her up. She remembered that music report, knew there was no point reminding Luan again that she was around to help, they all liked feeling useful in their own fields. There was nothing she could do to feel like a burden over it.

But it's not her to vent. Luan went up thinking of solutions to everything. If it wasn't something she could fix, then it wasn't something to be talked about. Before she could lecture her, Luan spoke up. She probably sensed it coming. "I know I should've said something… but I just didn't see the point. I don't wanna sound like I'm complaining and not doing anything about it; because I can't."

Luna scoffed, offended at the implication. She was acting like Luce-change nailed her into a glass coffin or something. "Sure you could've. We were only one call away, brah." She continued trailing her kneading hands down. Her thoughts trailed back to the letter, to when Lisa explained what could've been wrong with her. Sick in the mind. Depression… hm… "N-Not that it matters now. Let's just focus on you getting better."

"I doubt I will."

Luan was unbearable when prodded to take her mask off. She clenched her jaw to stop from growling. That's probably why she always kept the clown up.

"Is this program just like the one we took a year ago?" Luna changed the subject, not wanting to open the door for darkness now. She only had a vague idea about how homeschooling worked. When mom and dad signed them up for it, it was a specialized school made for students like that. Not… a public school offering the same. "When we were so caught up in the fuzz of Lola sleeping in, we wanted to do the same?"

Luan chuckled. "Somewhat." She paused. "Someone just has to go to the school every week to return the workbooks while I get new ones. Just like back then."

"Lucky bastard." Luna snidely commented. "Maybe I should just play dictator in class too."

Luan snickered, turning her head to the side to glance at her. "Sure, go ahead, be mentally ill with me."

Mentally ill. Luna frowned. About time she was finally acknowledging it.

For all Luan could downplay it, she wasn't in the right headspace. Luna shook her head in disapproval; that joke was just calling out for help. She could see right through it.

Rain softly pelleted against the roof, filling what little sounds there were in the room. "It's not that easy to get approved, you know," Luan started, slouching as Luna kneaded her lower back. "Cheryl said there were five qualifications."

Heck, they even doubted Luan's case was exempted and accepted. There were three conditions in order to avail that homeschooling program they had; you either had to be a student who was pregnant, mentally disabled, or working at the same time. "They'd probably accept Leni over me." She chided, scratching the small itch on her neck.

In realization, Luna nodded slowly. "Then… how'd you get this far?"

"Mom was really giving it her all to convince them." Luan smiled proudly; remind her to thank Lincoln and Lisa for the mini PowerPoint and behavioral charts they provided to back it up. And mom… for really letting her fighting spirit out there. "Principal Rivers gave in and said she could try… as long as I wrote a letter explaining my experiences."

Experiences. Like… not being mentally stable.

Never mind. Luna thought to herself, her hands still running through her back. I've stopped askin'.

She didn't know if Luna felt it, but it was there. The all so dreaded dead air. It wasn't just her enemy on stage, but in talks too. In conversations.

It was happening more often than not.

It wasn't a peaceful silence either. Pressure built in the air she inhaled, like it was a pillow she was breathing into. A push that put her on edge; maybe it was just a foreshadowing of what was about to come.

Her mind worked furiously for a conversation go-getter. Anything that connected, anything to open the gates to that talk.

Ding.

Three years ago was when Luna shifted from being the calmest, most level-headed of them all, to the loudest Loud in the fam. Behind that door, though, the old her slept, and that same kid used to love studying not only music, but something nobody would ever associate the rock god, punk rocker Luna Loud with: psychology.

More because it was prevalent in the music community. But still.

What Luna embellished to the outsiders about her first Mick Swagger concert, Luan knew what laid behind the scenes. To the family, that's what it looked like: a one-day decision, spur of the moment, and Luna didn't make it any better by retelling it like it was a princess finding her prince charming story to sound cool.

The story stretched way long before that though. Luna had been confused, wondering who she really was, because at the time, she didn't feel 'right'. And where the internet was at its peak, right about the time they were budding into teenagers, Luna found love in rock. Only Luan knew about all the groups, the communities she was in, and it was even a little inside joke between them. That was back when online forums were less protected and punk rock fans were more or less, edgy. In the rule of being a musician back in those days, pain was a creative's best friend, and the more emo you were, the better.

So, she did research back then, finding it intriguing that problems like depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder were real. And in the times when they were susceptible to the attack of hormonal craziness, let's just say, for every little question or bout of anxiety that floated through Luna's head, she searched it up thinking it was a disorder.

That, and with the wave of quirky online tests flooding the internet in its prime, she was obsessed with finding a new name for herself. A new Luna Loud.

If there was anyone in this house that knew what it was like to lose a soul and regain it, it was her.

"Luna?" She couldn't see her face, but almost felt the quirk in her brow.

"Hm?"

Despite her punk persona now, the nerd in her was still there. Sleeping somewhere. "Remember when you zoned out in class once and thought you had DID?"

"Ow!" Luna squeezed her shoulders a little too tightly; ooh, that one was personal.

"Don't remind me." She warned with a low growl, before dropping her hands from her back. That was a scare; can't believe that phase even happened, or why Luan would even remind her of it again. Back to her reminiscing tirades, huh? Luna crossed her arms on her chest, forming a scowl to Luan's amusement. "What's it to ya?"

Where else should she begin? How does she even start this? Luan pushed herself off Luna and shifted until her back was pressed against the flag on the wall. "You still remember that stuff you read about behavior, do you?"

Luna's scowl faltered and she nodded. Psych. It was cool, it was self-awakening. Plus, it came in handy when she needed to console someone, yeah.

Wait. Luna read her nervous demeanor, the trepidation in her eyes, the way she rubbed her arm, how her foot wriggled unconsciously like Charles' tail when he was agitated or playful. Anticipation sunk and soaked through her. What was she up to? "Why?"

Luan felt her palms brush onto the wool blanket, letting herself feel it for a moment. It was real, as everything was. She thought back to where she was before ending up here… and never mind. There was no remembering it. "It's just…Have you ever felt like there's just something itching away at you, and you wanna know what it is, but can't put it into words? It makes you think you're going mad, like… like something in your head is beginning to rot?"

The weight was heavy on her shoulders as she watched, back to being suffocated. It was growing old to her, seeing Luan this solemn, or contemplative. "I'm gonna need you to elaborate on that." Luna's eyebrows knit in thought; beginning to rot? That was a horrifying description. "I mean, yeah, I've felt frustrated over a feeling I can't describe… why? Issues with writing the feels or something?"

There was a perk in rooming with someone who studied behavior. Sometimes when Luan was lazy, she just asked her for a dose of introspective thought, in case a scene in her script needed it.

Please be the case now. Luna mentally pleaded to the skies.

Luan shook her head, and her heart dropped into her stomach. Oh, no.

"Speak up, dude. I can't read your mind." A hint of conflict tinged her voice. Luan was sick, both in the body and in the mind, like that letter mentioned… but brain rotting? That- those weren't two words that should go together. Amid growing worry, she leaned in, locking eyes with Luan, waiting for her response.

She was one step from uttering the truth out. But the search returned to her. Luan sharply inhaled. Dissociation. That's what it was. Would she ever understand, something this strange? Would she even try to at this point? She pressed a clump of the sheet on her first. The atmosphere would've calmed her down, she would've considered it heavenly, but now it felt like nothing. A part of her hesitated, what if Luna judged it? What if she thought she was crazy?

You came all this way to coward out now. Push it. "I'm just… I feel like some part of my head's going dry. I'm forgetting things I know I shouldn't. And nowadays it's like I can't form new memories." Luan took a deep breath in. At least discomfort was still a feeling she had, right? "Everything feels so unreal . Like it's all just one big nightmare."

Luna's eyebrows shot up. Unlike her sister, she didn't always need a reason for why things that happened were the way they were. Live and let live. "Things are going too fast, I get it." She followed, leaning over, her elbows pressing her thighs. "Maybe all you need is to slow down, you know. Let life be. Your head's shifting gears faster than it can handle. It'll fly outta control eventually."

"No, I mean it literally. Everything feels like a dream, Luna." She watched as Luna's face contorted into confusion; was it horror? Maybe a little of it too. "These walls, this bed… all of you, don't feel real. I don't feel real."

Luna's mouth went slack. Seems like she wasn't familiar with the concept at all.

Shoot, too late, too late. We can't rewind; half of the milk's been spilled, might as well pour it all out. Luan tangled her fingers together nervously.

"Don't freak out." She won't freak out. Luna was normally down-to-earth, so long as you didn't start. She won't.

Sensing Luan's frayed nerves, Luna pursed her lips, and shifted on the bed, holding herself back from reaching out and pulling her close. Remember what Sam said. Acts of service. Words of affirmation. That's what she'd want. Yeah. That's what she'd want. "How can I not, dude?" She said, her voice bordering the edge of concern. "What do you mean nothing's real? I need you to elaborate."

She scanned Luna's eyes for deceit, and after finding nothing but concern, the words came tumbling out her mouth. The recognition, how she forgot who she was looking at upon seeing her reflection, how her mind checked out of reality and everything turned 2D; landscapes felt like wallpaper backdrops; people felt like conditioned bots, the ground felt artificial, and so did everything else.

The horror on Luna's face was probably the only real thing she'd seen today, but as fast as the thought passed her by, it was over. And suddenly, her face twisted into cynical disbelief- "You're kidding." Her heart sank. It was exactly what she'd thought Luna would say. Luna's knuckles visibly tensed into fists. "Tell me you're kidding."

God, I'm going crazy. Luan shook her head slowly. And she won't believe me.

She fought the urge to scream. I can get myself back. I just need… I just need to find something to regain it. Her eyes were downcast in shame. "Even now, I'm still…I'm still wondering if this conversation is real or not. Or if it's just a dream."

Luna bit the inside of her lip. It took everything in her not to pull her in, shake her out of this mess she was in. Her sister's mind had always been anyone's guess. Under any other context, this should've been funny. This should've been a prank. This had to be a joke! "Luan, don't play around, dude. Y-you're creepin' me out." She forced herself still instead. Touch her again and she might fly out the rails. "What kinda character is this? Snap out of it!"

"I'm not playing around." Luan drew out a shaky sigh, and when Luna caught the slightest glimpse of her eyes growing misty, she closed her mouth.

The recognition, that's when it started?

It hit her.

So, that's why her eyes looked distant. That's why, despite everything they went through, Luan didn't feel fully present at the moment. That's why… that's why she'd been so spazzed out!

It hit her like a huge prank she was the punchline of, and she wanted no part in it. She didn't wanna play around in this. Sam predicted it. Luan needed more than just support! Trying to keep it together, Luna took a deep breath and felt her frustration wash over like sandcastles to the waves. "So, you're telling me this fever you're having doesn't feel real to you either? Those weeks in training, those times we'd go out of that joking around? The recognition, the fest, everything? You don't think that happened? You don't think that was real?"

"I-it's not like I dissociate all the time." Luan's voice cracked.

"Just answer me, dude."

Luan paused, but that moment of silence held significant meaning. That in itself already held the answer. It hung freely in the air like a pulled string that permanently darkened the room. Luna bumped her head to the wall, groaning as she reached up to rub her throbbing temples. This was killing her too, for God's sake. How the heck was she supposed to deal with this? Was there like, some sorta maggot, eating her soul alive? That's what it felt like.

"You're wiggin' out." She uttered apologetically. This was ridiculous. She loved Luan to death, but this just wasn't in her scope to deal with. How do you respond when somebody you grew up with just… tells you they don't think you're a real person anymore? That someone, the one you shared a room and an entire childhood with, just tells you right off the bat that you feel like a robot to them?

"That's it, we're getting you some professional help." Luna raised her hands up in defeat, throwing her legs off the edge of the bed. This is Lisa's turf now.

The more practical side of Luna knew even if any of them proposed visiting a shrink, the budget was incredibly tight. Luan's Funny Business net worth had long been shaved off in the months she went on hiatus, and there was little left for that consistency needed in therapy. "I really wanna help you, dude, but this is way outta my scope; I don't think I can deal."

"W-wait!" Luna felt a hand brush up her arm and immediately regretted what she said. "There is one thing you can do."

She whipped her head back, a major part of her magnetically inclined to stay where she sat. And what was that?

"Can I…" Luan sharply turned her head away; a faint flush appearing on her cheeks. "Can I get a hug?"

…Say what now?