-

"Did someone tie-dye the sky?"

"Ooh! I'm definitely adding that to the story!"

"Shh, guys!"

Cheesy had insisted that he go out with Trophy while the latter indulged in photography, as a uniquely coloured sunset painted the sky. Microphone tagged along but neither seemed to mind. Trophy was knelt on the ground, attempting to angle his camera just right as he snapped a photo of a bee perched upon a daisy.

"The sky is so pretty, even if tie-dye isn't my thing."

Cheesy plopped down on the green grass, a goofy grin plastered on his face as he tugged at the weeds. Microphone tapped her pencil on her chin, racking her brain for ideas. She wanted to use this story as a way of confessing her romantic feelings to Soap. Maybe she could make the characters representations of all of them? No, too cliche. Poetry perhaps? It probably wasn't Soap's thing. What about a love letter?

That... didn't sound too bad.

Microphone nodded to herself with a newfound determination as she scrawled down a couple notes in her journal. Pinks and purples swirled in the sky like a mixture of cotton candy. It was a sight that mesmerised the comedian of the group.

"Can I eat the sky?"

"No, you can't Cheesy."

Trophy stood up, walked over, and then sat himself down beside Cheesy as he patiently waited for his photo to develop. Cheesy began to pull at the grass again.

"Look." Trophy showed Cheesy the developed photo. "The bee looks so fluffy."

"Beez nuts."

Trophy looked at Cheesy with disappointment before turning away.

"I'm sorry."

"No you're not."

"I am."

"No you're not."

Silence lingered between the two as Trophy turned his back towards Cheesy.

() ()()

"I'm really sorry."

"...It's okay."

Trophy turned back around, a playful smile on his face. Cheesy couldn't help but smile with him. Microphone analysed their interactions closely, scribbling a few observations down.

—

OJ roamed the corridors of the hotel, whistling a simple tune. Today, he had been gifted with a unique moment; one of peace. He had nothing to do. It was just blissful time for himself. Normally, he would use such time to organise something with Paper, who was his husband. The two had been married for a while now, which is why it baffled him when Salt still wouldn't get the hint.

() ()()

He eventually arrived in the kitchen and stumbled upon a stack of photos that were placed on the counter. They were obviously taken by Trophy. He was the only one in the hotel who had a decent camera. OJ quickly sifted through them. Trophy didn't mind people looking through his photos these days, which was a sign that Cheesy had clearly warmed him up quite a bit. OJ paused on a photo of said person. The boy was smiling brightly while holding a buttercup in his hands. This photo seemed to be taken with far more care than the others. It seemed like a perfectly preserved moment in time – a freeze frame if you will. OJ smiled a little. The residents always found strange ways to remind him of Paper. Cheesy's big bright smile reminded him of their first date this time, a moment he would always cherish.

—

"Woah! OJ! You didn't have to do all this!"

The manager rolled his eyes while guiding his boyfriend to stand beside the door frame. OJ had attempted to busy Paper with tasks while he hurriedly set up a cosy movie night in their room. Bundles of blankets sat atop the bed. Some were weighted because Paper liked them that way. Fairy lights hung above their bed while a laptop sat against the headboard and a paused episode of 'Desperate Housewives' was displayed.

"Why not? The best only deserves the best, don't you think?"

Paper blushed furiously, placing a loving kiss on OJ's cheek.

"You don't have to worry about grand gestures like this. I love you for you, OJ."

OJ was giddy at the admittance.

"I know, but I love spoiling you."

Paper snickered, happily letting himself be guided towards the laptop by his boyfriend. They allowed the blankets to envelop them in a warm embrace as OJ pressed play on the episode.

—

Sure, those moments were always short lived. Both of them had to get back to work half an hour later due to Apple's sudden disappearance. Nonetheless, those moments were always OJ's favourites. He would've used his time to create another special moment, but Paper was ill. He had insisted that OJ leave him be for a while, mostly out of the fear that Evil Paper would return at his weakest point.

"Oh, hey OJ."

The hotel manager turned around to see Trophy wandering into the room.

"Hey Trophy, I love the new photos!"

The photographer shot him a quick smile before scooping up all of his works and leaving. OJ was alone again. He really missed Paper.

'Time for a distraction I guess. To the kitchen!'

Once he reached his designated location, OJ's hands automatically moved to make himself a coffee. The procedure was frighteningly familiar to him at that point. A small smile made itself known on his face at the foreign feeling of control. He often lacked it in the hotel, but it was always rewarding to earn it. OJ grimaced as another memory made itself known.

—

"H-H-H-Hey Oj!"

"Hey Bomb! What's up?"

Bomb scoffed awkwardly before stumbling over to the manager.

"Salt's b-b-been l-l-l-l-looking for you."

"Ugh, of course she has."

"Hey OJ~!"

Salt strutted into the room, modelling a puffy blue dress.

"Hey, Salt."

OJ practically groaned his response. Salt paid no mind to it. She skipped over to him with a grin while Pepper stood idly by the large living room couch.

"Do you think this looks good on me? Pepper said blue's totally my colour."

OJ spared Pepper a pitiful glance. He was fully aware of the amount of effort she was putting into trying to confess to Salt. But she was completely oblivious to her friend's attempts, mainly because her eyes were always on OJ.

"Yeah... it looks great."

"Oh! I'll wear it more often then!"

"You shouldn't let his opinion dictate what you wear."

"Ex-cuse me?"

Pepper seemed momentarily confused before realising her mistake.

"Wait, did I say that out loud?"

Salt gasped, stomping over to her friend.

"You're telling me you've been thinking these kinds of things?"

OJ shivered. He'd never seen their fights escalate to this level. Bomb had silently snuck out of the room a while ago.

"Guys, we can-"

"Shut up OJ."

He was surprised to be interrupted by Salt. She loomed over Pepper.

"BCFFs don't hide things from each other, Pepper. Even if they are mean."

Pepper's face drastically reddened as Salt leaned down further.

"F-Fine! You want me to stop hiding things?"

OJ knew exactly where this was going and he knew he could do nothing to stop it.

"OJ is homosexual!"

He paused. He was not expecting that.

"And so am I!"

There it was.

Salt stepped back. A rainbow of conflicting emotions was splattered all over the canvas that was Salt's face.

() ()

"Wh-What?"

Salt barely choked the word out. Pepper was beginning to regret her decision.

"Salt, I-"

"I-I need a minute."

Salt sprinted out of the room. Pepper was on the verge of tears as OJ sat beside her on the couch.

"This wasn't what was meant to happen."

She let herself lean into OJ's embrace. Contrary to popular belief, the two of them were actually decent friends.

"I know, Pepper."

That's when the waterworks started. She sobbed aggressively into OJ's hoodie, darkening the bright orange tint with her tears. The hotel manager gently patted her on the back.

The sobbing didn't cease until Pepper passed out from sheer exhaustion. OJ sighed and lifted her up, carrying Pepper to her bedroom. With a soft 'click', her door swung open, and OJ carefully laid Pepper down on her bed. He made sure to tuck her in and switch on a small lamp. Night had fallen by this point, after all.

"Night Pepper", OJ mumbled as he quietly left the room.

After hearing his footsteps fade away, Salt emerged from under her covers. One hand was clamped firmly over her mouth to stifle her cries, while the other shakily clutched her chest. She had caused Pepper all of that pain. Salt stood up from her bed and wandered over to Pepper's.

'What kind of friend am I?'

—

OJ was only aware of those final moments due to Salt ranting about them to him one evening. From the way she described Pepper in her drunken haze, she sounded more in love with her BCFF than she was with the hotel manager (which was something OJ knew neither of them would complain about). He quietly sipped his scalding-hot coffee, the burning feeling doing nothing to burn away his worries for Paper.

() ()

—

"How about this one? Baby hotline, please hold me close to you-"

"Stop trying to spread your Jack Stauber propaganda Cheesy!"

"You're so mean to me!"

"With good reason."

Trophy snickered as Cheesy pouted at the jock's input.

"You're meant to be on my side here, Trophy!"

"Mic's right though. He can't be that good."

"That good? That good?"

Cheesy ran over to one of Microphone's storage containers and roughly rifled through it. Microphone shrugged, knowing that he was too weak to actually break anything. With a loud 'hmph', Cheesy clumsily tugged out a record player. He set it on Microphone's desk and plugged the device in, adjusting the settings to his liking before running back to the storage container.

"What is he doing?"

"Showing you his Jack Stauber vinyl collection."

As Microphone said those words, Cheesy carefully extracted his prized collection of vinyls from Microphone's box of her own.

"Get ready to listen to art."

Cheesy carefully placed the vinyl on the record player, setting the needle onto the song he wanted to listen to before pressing the start button. Groovy instrumental music began playing as Cheesy sat down next to Trophy on Microphone's bed.

"What song is this?" Trophy asked. He was genuinely interested in his new friend's music taste.

"Oh Klahoma. It's really good."

The instrumental faded slightly, clearly cueing the lyrics.

'set the phases to rot

what has got you distraught?'

"It's negative attention, at best, but call it nothing."

Cheesy sang along, perfectly in tune as he happily swung his legs. Trophy was mesmerised. An unfamiliar feeling boiled in his gut. Microphone was humming along to the music, writing down notes as she did. Trophy was awfully confused. No one else seemed to be experiencing this strange sickness.

"I, uh, have to go to the bathroom!"

Trophy hastily stood up, ignoring Cheesy and Mic as he slammed the bathroom door shut. Just as expected, the whole room was squeaky clean. Soap was Microphone's roommate after all. Even if she was never in the room, it always held an aspect or two of her cleaning habits.

'Cheesy would've been quick to quip in here. He was always good at that.'

Trophy felt his heartbeat quicken.

'Is it getting really hot in here or is that just me?'

He slid down against the door, hugging his knees to his chest. The photos laying in his pocket felt so much heavier. He placed his hands on his reddening cheeks. They felt like they were on fire.

'What is going on?'

Trophy looked over his shoulder and was greeted by the plain white door.

"I'm worried about him, Mic. He's been acting off today. He seemed... sadder? I don't know! I'm just really worried."

()()

Trophy felt his chest flutter, overriding the constant feeling of tightness that resided there. Like the click of a camera, he realised in an instant. Trophy held a hand over his mouth as he wearily swayed.

'Am I..?'

—

"Is that everything?"

"Yeah, thanks OJ. I'll probably throw it all out next week."

"Never an issue."

OJ cheerily waved goodbye to Pickle as the latter brought his box of unwanted belongings into his room. OJ had been trying to occupy himself, which was something that proved to be far more difficult than he had anticipated. He was so used to spending all his time working in the hotel or being with Paper that he'd never developed any fleshed-out hobbies.

'Does coffee-making count?' OJ thought as he made his fourth cup of coffee for the day.

() ( ) ()

Paper had suggested that he attend therapy due to his... unique coffee habits. It didn't really go as planned. OJ chuckled at the memory.

—

"Ready to go?"

"Yep."

Paper grinned sweetly as he guided OJ to their car and started it up. The blue SUV roared to life and they went on their way. The windows were rolled down and OJ couldn't help but smile as the wind tousled his already messy hair.

"Enjoying yourself?"

OJ nodded, his smile only growing wider as Paper spoke.

"That's good! We'll be there in ten minutes."

OJ nestled further into his seat, a content grin on his face. He slowly drifted to sleep.

"...J? OJ? Are you awake?"

OJ awoke from a supposedly dreamless sleep and lazily clutched Paper's forearm.

"Yeah..? Yeah, I'm up."

He pulled himself upwards. Paper smiled as OJ yawned loudly.

"Where are we?"

"The therapist, silly."

"Oh, right." OJ nervously rubbed the back of his neck as Paper chuckled.

"...Are you ready to go in?"

The manager nervously fiddled with his hands. Paper brought them into his own.

"It's gonna be okay. Okay?"

OJ felt his knees turn to jelly at Paper's passive voice.

"Okay."

Paper grinned, beginning to guide OJ to the building.

"Oh my spice! OJ, darling, I didn't know you, like, came here~!"

OJ grimaced as Paper paused by the receptionist desk. Salt skipped over and tightly gripped OJ's bicep.

"Why are you here? I always thought you were-"

"Salty-Salt, come sit down! Our therapist could be here any moment."

Salt gasped momentarily before bounding over to the couch that she and Pepper were previously seated on. She snuggled up to her BCFF, the BCFF in question gasping a bit before sinking into her friend.

"Do you think they're here to talk about 'relationship issues'?"

OJ whispered into Paper's ear, causing him to giggle and nod. Salt glared at them, but didn't say anything in fear of bothering Pepper.

—

That session didn't end up too dandy. OJ's new therapist grew far too worried about his abnormal eating and drinking habits, to the point where she almost called a doctor about it. Thanks to that, Paper now watched him closely at mealtimes to make sure that he ate properly. Paper couldn't do that right now, however.

OJ sighed. Was it so bad to long for his husband? At least he knew he still loved him.

'I love Paper.'

Those three scrawled down words changed his life.

—

'I love Paper.'

OJ gulped. Bomb shot him a friendly thumbs up while Pickle and Knife chatted away on the other side of the couch.

"Wow, okay."

"H-H-Happy you g-g-g-g-got it all out-t-t?"

OJ smiled a little, overlooking his bad handwriting to breathe in the newfound reason for his feelings.

"Yeah."

"Oh, hey guys!"

OJ screamed at that shrill voice, scrunching up the note as he did. Bomb sighed.

"Woah! OJ are you alright?"

Paper immediately ran to his friend's side, causing OJ to get only more flustered.

"Uh, yeah! I'm fine! I don't know what came over me."

OJ's mind froze when he noticed Paper's hands were firmly gripping his shoulders.

"OJ?"

The hotel manager looked up, his gaze meeting Paper's. They both looked to the side.

"I'm t-t-too sober to d-d-d-d-deal with all these g-g-g-gay people."

Bomb got up and left the room, leaving the remaining four inhabitants very confused. Pickle and Knife simply brushed it off and continued their conversation. OJ and Paper remained silent.

"H-Heh, uh, I gotta go now- I-I'll see you at lunch yeah?"

Paper darted out of the room before OJ could answer, leaving the latter with one thought flooding his mind.

"Yeah... I'll see you there", he breathed as a small smile grew on his face.

"GAAAAAY", Pickle shouted from the other side of the couch.

—

OJ snickered. 'Past-him' wouldn't have believed you if you'd told him he was married to Paper now, let alone had those feelings reciprocated. OJ thought back to exactly how he figured out Paper liked him back. A smile stretched across his face.

—

As of late, Paper had been carrying around a journal of sorts. It was decorated with stickers and scribbles. All of that screamed 'don't even think about touching this.' OJ was a decent person, so he was sure to respect his best friend's privacy. The two were currently sitting in their room together. OJ was sorting out several sheets of paperwork while Paper scribbled in his notebook.

"What playlist?"

"Mmmm, the fruity one?"

With that, 'cotton candy' by YUNGBLUD began to play. Paper absentmindedly hummed along to the song as OJ sang along. Paper's ringtone rang out as they reached the first chorus.

"O-Oh! Hi Pickle."

Muffled speech was heard over the phone. OJ listened closely as Paper quietly gasped.

"Of course! I-I'll be right there!"

Paper scrambled up from his bed and ran out the door, leaving his notebook open. OJ, being the respectful friend he was, went over and shut the notebook. In doing so, he accidently unveiled another sheet of drawings tucked underneath the cover.

'i'm in love with-'

'NOPE! That was enough snooping for today OJ!'