“…So you put your f-foot here, and then you move it sideways like this, and th-then up…or is it d-down? Anyway, you go all around like this, and that’s c-called a box step.”

“Er…am I doin’ this right…?”

“You’re doing f-fine! Really, as long as you go—swoop—with every step, it’ll look j-just like real dancing. That’s the s-secret~.”

“…’Swoop’?”

“Just b-bend your knee a little bit like this, and th-then come back up—yeah, you got it!”

Dreadlilocks looked up from her sewing and found herself in the middle of a dance floor, surrounded by twirling feet and swishing ballgowns. Myriad perfumes and strange music filled the air.

She blinked, disoriented; her senses overwhelmed.

She picked up her basket and scissors and edged her way out of the crowd, and eventually found Lucy and Uriel practicing dance steps by the buffet tables.

Lucy let go of his fins and waved. “Dreadlilocks! There you are!” she crowed. “That’s an am-mazing dress you’re wearing; you look marvelous!!”

Dreadlilocks looked down in surprise at the mass of gold lace and cerulean satin that covered her person.

She didn’t remember writing it.

“Here, have one of these!” Lucy said, pressing some tiny, unknown food object into Dreadli’s hand. “This is just an incredible ball; I’ve n-never seen so many beautiful things! You must have s-some imagination!”

“I…must have…” Dreadli replied. She looked over her shoulder.

Lucy furrowed her bushy brows. “Dreadli, i-is something wrong…?” she asked.

Dreadli turned back to her guest. “Where’s…where’s outside…?” she asked back. “I…think I need to go outside…”

“Well, I haven’t seen any doors…but there are windows up there, and stairs leadin’ to one of ‘em,” Uriel answered.

Dreadlilocks couldn’t quite see what he was talking about, so he picked her up and placed her on top of a table, so she could look out over the crowds.

And sure enough, she found the stairs: golden ones on the far wall, leading up to a row of small archways near the ceiling. Through one of them she could see the full moon, nestled in a sea of stars.

She jumped down and ran towards it. “I’ll…I’ll be right back!” she called as she went.

~~

In her eagerness to fulfill Lucy’s request, despite having little idea what it would entail, Dreadlilocks had decided to try a new technique: a technique wherein she simply copied relevant-looking sections of Jack’s infinite book, and stitched them together.

Unfortunately, it was slowly dawning on her that she might have gotten carried away…either that, or she hadn’t read the copied writing carefully enough, because there were already things present in the setting that she didn’t understand…and as she soon discovered, things missing from the setting that should have been there.

The stairs led Dreadlilocks to a large balcony, on which she ran out and peered over the side. She found herself staring into an empty, dark abyss.

“…The backdrop,” she breathed, ripping a quilt out of her basket. “I knew something felt wrong…why isn’t the ground here?? Did I really forget to put that in…?”

She held up the quilt and looked at it. The stitches were neat, but the pieces were of all different shapes and sizes, leaving jagged edges and empty spaces all over. And every once in a while, a new piece spontaneously appeared.

It was altogether confusing to behold, and it filled Dreadli with unease…especially the new pieces that appeared by themselves.

She wasn’t sure what she had done. And she knew that was an author’s worst failing.

“…Dreadlilocks?”

Dreadli turned around, and found Pitch and Azor standing behind her.

Had they been there the entire time?? She couldn’t even remember that…

“Dreadlilocks,” Pitch repeated. “Is…something the matter?”

Dreadli suddenly realized how tightly her fingers were gripping the quilt, and slowly relaxed them. “Please…please stop asking me things like that,” she said, folding up her work.

“Do forgive us for wanting to know whether you’re having any problems,” said Azor. “It’s not as if our existences are in your hands or anything…”

“That’s just it,” said Dreadli, feeling a tightness in the back of her throat. “Everything is in my hands, and you can’t help me! So just…l-leave me alone and let me think…!”

Suddenly, she heard a crash, and a scream. Black ink trickled in from the ballroom.