"Cheesy, what are you doing?"

The man in question had waltzed into Trophy's room with a comical amount of bags in his hands. He was practically shaking with excitement.

"I got you a present!"

Trophy hastily slid off his bed, a smile growing on his face like how his feelings grew for Cheesy.

Since Trophy had come out as a trans male to the comedian, Cheesy was supporting him in every way that he could think of. Whether it was calling him handsome or providing him with comfort on really bad dysphoria days, Cheesy always found a way to make Trophy's mind fuzz with love.

"You really didn't have to get me a gift."

"I really did though!"

Cheesy eagerly shoved a gift bag into Trophy's arms. The latter stumbled a little.

"What is this?"

"You have to check, it's a surprise!"

Trophy playfully rolled his eyes but still undid the carefully-tied, golden ribbon that held the gift bag closed. Cheesy was quite literally bouncing up and down at this point. Trophy gasped a little as the bag fell open.

"You..."

"I thought you might need a new binder since you were saying yours was really tight. I got you the most comfortable and highly rated one I could find!"

Trophy was on the verge of tears as he pulled out the top-quality, tan binder. Cheesy was nervously rocking on his heels. The jock sniffled emotionally.

"Heh, thanks a lot Cheese-ball."

The comedian visibly brightened up, donning a grin as he heard the nickname.

"No problem Troph!"

Trophy gasped as he wiped his eyes.

"I-I'll go put it on! Right now!"

Cheesy nodded in excitement as Trophy ran into the bathroom. The former was very happy about Trophy's reaction. He merely wanted his new friend to stay safe and happy. That shouldn't be too much to ask for, right? Cheesy sat on the edge of Trophy's bed, kicking his legs to burn off his buzzing energy as the comedian hummed 'Cupid' to himself.

—

GAME OVER!

Pickle groaned in frustration as he angrily threw the controller onto the couch. Those flashing words stained on the screen were starting to get really annoying. He'd been lost for a while now. Mentally of course. Taking up duties in the hotel to distract himself barely felt like actual work, thanks to his abundance of knowledge on the hotel's layout. His job was not only fruitful in the financial and mental repression sense; it also helped him make new friends.

Pickle was now set to be in charge of the Cherries. The twins were attending 6th grade after OJ found out that they were barely twelve years old. It was Pickle's job to get them to and from school. Since he began looking after them, the three had developed a brotherly bond. Pickle had begun to help the Cherries with homework while they helped Pickle pass the time.

He had also become decent friends with Soap and Microphone. After he was tasked to watch over the portal that night for eliminated contestants, the musician stumbled through and recognised him almost immediately. The two began to get along after Microphone shared her experiences with Taco. Through this new bond, his friendship with Soap began. The cleaner had admitted that she too was a fan of video games and the two played together for hours. She was very adamant about keeping the controllers clean but they always had fun.

None of them were there that day however, so Pickle had to pass time on his own. He never liked getting all... feeling-sy, but the 'GAME OVER' screen started feeling like a representation of everything he'd lost. One for Taco, another for his trust, another for treating Balloon like trash, another for being naive, another for being unable to properly sustain himself after his only friend left for another season, another for-

...You get the picture.

So rather than feeding into a damaging loop of losing the game and his own lack of self-esteem, Pickle decided it'd be best to finish off his personal chores. OJ hadn't assigned him anything else to do that day so he might as well finish off other tasks. He wandered over to his room, half-heartedly greeting the other inhabitants of the hotel. Pickle entered his room and carefully closed his door behind him before searching for his to-do list. Its slightly crinkled shape lay on his desk.

1. put the clothes for drying X

2. check over the Cherries' English work X

3. diary entry!!! X

4. take out the trash

...Looks like he'd be taking out the trash then.

() ()

Pickle had been trying to put off this task for as long as he could. He wanted to hold on to the remnants of a friendship that had never really existed. He might've thrown out that darned photo a couple years back but he still held onto other items. Whether it was one of her lemons or a scarf she had gifted him, Pickle felt that it was time to let these things go. He unravelled his scarf, tucking it into the box containing all his trash.

'I can't forgive.' He lifted up the box and began to make his way to the door. 'But I sure as hell can try to forget.'

—

"I'm, uh, d-done!"

Cheesy slipped off the bed, bouncing with joy.

"You gonna come out?"

"Yeah, I'll do that."

Cheesy couldn't refrain from gasping when Trophy opened the door. He was shirtless and hella toned. He also sported a scar or two here and there. Oh yeah, there was the binder too. ()

"So, uh, what do you think?"

Cheesy snapped himself out of his daze.

"You look really good. Like, really good."

Trophy blushed a little, scratching his neck.

"Heh, thanks. It feels really good too. The fabric is nice and airy. Thanks again."

Cheesy felt his face heat up. He waved his hand dismissively.

"Awh gouda, it's really no brie-ggie!"

Trophy laughed kindly and walked over to Cheesy, taking the other's hands into his own.

"Is someone nervous?"

"W-Water you tala-king about?"

"That wasn't even a cheese joke, Cheesy."

"Tala is an Australian cheese, thank you very much."

The comedian smiled as Trophy snickered. Making the jock laugh always felt a little bit more rewarding. Cheesy was never really sure why.

"Well, I'm glad to know you liked my gift."

Cheesy grinned goofily as he spoke, squeezing Trophy's hands a little.

"Thanks again."

Trophy couldn't help but smile. Cheesy felt his heart begin to swell with joy.

"W-Wellington, I'd best brie goya-ing."

The comedian cringed at his failed attempt at a joke while the jock giggled.

"If you say so. I might stop by sometime this afternoon. I have something to do."

"Y-Yeah that's colby."

Cheesy smacked a hand over his mouth in embarrassment. The jock smiled lovingly as the comedian scooped up his shopping bags and left with a quiet 'see ya'.

'I'm so lucky to have him as a friend.'

Trophy ambled over to the mirror, a small smirk on his face as he admired how flat his chest looked. He found the smile quickly diminishing as he held a hand over his throbbing heart. A cool breeze blew the curtains around.

'I just wish we were more.'

—

"Yesterday's headlines, blown by the wind."

Pickle softly sung a song to himself as he lifted the heavy box of trash out of the elevator.

"Yesterday's people end up scatterbrained."

Adjusting to the weight once again, he stumbled around the monotonous orange hallways of Hotel OJ.

"Sorry! Comin' through!"

Pickle grunted as he was shoved over by a running Cheesy. He managed to maintain balance however, and nothing spilled from the box.

'Cheesy's gotten significantly more annoying since he and Trophy became friends. I hate the fact that they just happen to take up everything I wanna do.'

Pickle grumbled under his breath as he kicked open the front door of Hotel OJ, his mind set on reaching the hotel garbage bin without spilling anything.

"There, any fool can easy pick a hole."

Pickle felt his vision become disorientated, his world becoming a jumble of greens, blues, and oranges.

"I only wish I could fall in."

He shook his head in an attempt to mentally ground himself.

"A moving target in a firing range."

Pickle finally arrived at the garbage bins and he set down his box of trash with a grunt. The corner of a frame stuck out, giving him a sense of intense deja vu. He hummed the instrumental part of the song as he fished out the picture frame. It contained a photo of him and Knife. It was back when they'd still shared a room, before Season Two of Inanimate Insanity was even a thought. Pickle looked much healthier back then. He had a decent amount of weight and his face looked alive. Pickle looked down at himself, so, so skinny. He had been trying to regain weight but it felt impossible without Knife. Everything felt impossible without Knife.

"Somewhere I'm not, scatterbrain."

Knife, on the other hand, was trying hard to look bored out of his mind. The beginnings of a smirk were still visible on his face. He wore eyeliner and a t-shirt with ripped sleeves, clearly going for an edgy look. Cementing Pickle's theory, he wore a spiked bracelet with chains, one that he occasionally wore in the episodes. What really caught Pickle's eye was the fact that Knife was wearing one of his scarves. It wasn't the one Taco gave him, but one his mother had knitted for him before he left to compete on the first season of Inanimate Insanity. Knife looked happy despite how hard he was trying not to. Pickle couldn't help but question how Knife wasn't already exhausted from such a vivid display of emotion.

"Somewhere I'm not, scatterbrain."

With a resolving sigh, Pickle set the photo next to him before combing through the box. Since when did it hurt to double check? Thank god he did. He had almost thrown out some of Knife's old jewellery and his emergency make-up kit (for emergencies). He continued to idly hum the instrumental as he set the box next to some other trash bags. Picking up what he found and preparing to leave, Pickle sang a little bit louder due to the lack of any audience.

"Lightning fuse, power cut,"-

"Scatterbrain."

Pickle stood frozen on the spot. He... wasn't the only one who...

He turned around in a haste, feeling his eyes water as one person came to mind.

"Knife..." he softly breathed out.

"Hey Pickle." the other said with a grin.

—

Cheesy slammed the door to his room, groaning as he tossed his bags aside and flopped on the bed.

'I totally just embarrassed myself in front of him. Stop getting so emotional, Cheesy!'

A distraction was necessary after that situation, prompting Cheesy to wander over to the bags that he had previously discarded. Some would call him an impulse spender; Cheesy thought it was fine since he could easily afford it. As he reached for the biggest bag in the pile, Cheesy inhaled deeply.

"Cheesy!"

The comedian squeaked a little, grumbling to himself as he opened the door for his newfound guest. Microphone lingered in the hallway, clearly flustered and very nervous.

"Yo, you okay?"

"Heheh, no."

Microphone deadpanned on the last word, letting herself into Cheesy's room and sitting down on his yellow-coloured bed.

"What happe-?"

"I messed up in front of Soap."

"How so?"

The musician rolled onto her stomach, kicking her legs.

"We were going shopping and I saw a poster for a band I really liked, right?"

"Mhm?"

"And I spent two hours talking about them as we walked."

"If it makes you feel any better, I embarrassed myself really badly in front of Trophy."

"Oh yeah?"

"I was a stuttering mess! He liked my gift and then I got really nervous because he was so handsome and-and then I started panic-joking and he noticed and oh, it was awful Mic!"

Microphone couldn't help but laugh at Cheesy's reaction, then immediately shutting herself up so she could comfort him instead.

"Oh buddy."

She tried to reach a hand out to pat him on the back, realising he was still standing by the door. Cheesy also took note of this and shuffled over to the bed and sat down.

"I'm just not in the right headspace today." he admitted.

"Well, maybe whatever you bought could cheer you up?"

Microphone loosely gestured to the pile of bags in the corner of the room. Cheesy gasped.

"Ooh, yeah! I know it will!"

He stood up, skipping over to the bags and sifting through the items. He reached for a branded bag with black straps and tugged it out of the pile.

"Gimme a sec! I have the surprise of a lifetime here!"

With that, Cheesy clumsily sprinted into his bathroom, causing Microphone to chuckle a little.

—

Knife wasn't expecting himself to be tightly embracing Pickle as the latter sobbed to him about anything and everything.

Was he complaining? Definitely not.

Was he worried? Of course.

Pickle clearly hadn't been in the greatest state since Knife left, the evidence being his frail frame and abundance of emotion. Maybe it was the influence of Suitcase and her concerning mental state, but Knife hated seeing people cry – especially Pickle. Suitcase's late-night ramblings ended with her crying into Knife's shoulder, and they had taken a toll on the latter, causing him to act more... affectionately.

"Pickle."

He pulled his friend back out of the embrace, trying his best to mask the growing smile on his face. Pickle wiped his face dry with the sleeves of his sweater, laughing a little as he did. Realising Pickle was occupied with trying to calm down, Knife spoke again.

()

"Hey. I missed you a lot."

Pickle smiled, tugging at the hems of his sleeves.

"So I heard. Mic told me you said hi."

Knife couldn't help but let a grin slip through, only making Pickle smile wider as he continued to speak.

"And I missed you so much, Knife."

Knife shifted his gaze to the small box filled with items that now laid on the floor.

"Is that my old necklace?"

Pickle followed his eyes, nodding when he saw the item of interest.

"Ha, yeah. I was throwing out some old stuff today and found a couple of our things."

Knife chuckled, kneeling down on the ground so he could sift through the box.

"Is this the emergency makeup kit for emergencies?"

"You bet!"

The contestant clicked open the box, beaming at the familiar smell that emanated from it. He carefully took out a makeup palette, revealing a couple ziplock bags underneath.

"You stocked up the weed in here?"

"Uh huh, I got a pretty good deal from one of Mic's friends."

"Heh, dope."

() ()

Pickle sat down on the grass next to Knife. The latter clicked the kit closed and carefully placed it back into the cardboard box. A serene silence overcame them, which was a refreshing contrast to the hustle and bustle of the hotel and the constant sorrow of the other contestants. The grass rustled as the breeze flew by, with small daisies wobbling about. Pickle gently plucked one from its stem, slowly twirling it around in his fingers.

"I used to look at the daisies and think of you." Knife breathed.

It was barely a whisper, but Pickle heard him loud and clear. He could barely stutter out a response, so he elected to rest his head on Knife's shoulder instead. He still whirled the daisy about in his fingers as Knife spoke again.

"I bet Mic told you about Taco, hm?"

Pickle simply hummed in response. Noticing that his eyebrows were furrowed subconsciously, he relaxed his tightened expression.

"I was so scared that she was gonna come back and break into the hotel or something. I used to hide behind the trees outside the hotel and check to make sure she didn't. I was worried she would come back and hurt you."

Pickle felt his face warm at the statement, smiling a little as he continued to play with the daisy.

"I told Lightbulb about how much I worried for you. She actually broke into the hotel and used my worry as an excuse to hide in her friend's rooms. Apparently Fan thought he was going insane after he saw someone run out of Paintbrush's room and jump out of a sixth floor window."

"Ooh, so that was what he was rambling about! I had to get the poor dude a vomit bag."

Knife snickered, resting his hand over Pickle's leg momentarily. The gamer felt himself light up, brighter than Lightbulb could ever dream of. Knife continued to speak.

"One night, I swore I saw someone run into the hotel. Lightbulb and Suitcase tried to reassure me that everything was gonna be alright, but I ended up crying a lot. I was really scared you were gonna get hurt or something."

Knife's hand brushed Pickle's as he took the daisy from him, twirling the flower in the same manner that Pickle had before.

"Suitcase told me to pick a daisy and choose someone I really care about, then I had to say something I liked about them for each petal. I chose you."

Pickle felt his heart skip a beat.

'It's arrhythmia! I knew it would catch up with me eventually!'

() () ()

"So after a while, I began to pick up a daisy and think of you whenever I felt alone."

Knife grinned as he spoke, gently tucking the daisy behind Pickle's ear. The latter sharply inhaled. His face held an undertone of red. Knife's hand moved down, settling on Pickle's cheek.

"I missed you", Pickle mumbled under his breath.

"I know", Knife whispered with a goofy grin.

The contestant lovingly rubbed Pickle's cheek. A mutual desire to take the interaction further hung in the air. They had always had a closer relationship than others, something that they never necessarily tried to hide.

() ()

"Can I kiss you?"

Pickle smiled. Of course Knife would ask. He was always polite and very considerate with respect. Plus, they were known for the occasional and totally platonic make out session. The gamer nodded. Knife cleared his throat and leaned closer to Pickle's ear.

() ()

"I wanna hear you say it."

The contestant was obviously teasing him at this point. Knife was adamant about verbal consent, but he seemed to be taking advantage of that fact now. Pickle couldn't help but shiver.

"Y-Yeah, we can kiss."

Knife grinned, leaning in a little. Pickle met him halfway.

—

"So you're asking me about this?"