Mr. L slowly steps outside a small apartment building next to Timpani and Blumiere's, immediately ducking to avoid being hit in the head by a rock some kids were tossing back and forth for fun. He takes a look at the morning and breathes it all in, then steps down the small steps onto the sidewalk. He crosses the street, looking both ways so he isn't run over, not that there are many cars to get run over with. Then, he pulls out some keys and opens the small shop on the corner. He gets inside, turns on the lights, and flips the 'closed' sign to 'open.'

He goes to the back and grabs some soap and water, taking a rag and washing the windows as he does every morning. He smiles at his reflection, then walks behind the counter, making himself a cup of coffee.

Then, he sits and waits.

Over the past ten years, he needed a job. Especially when the building he was staying in started charging rent. Timpani and Blumiere lived in the apartment above him, Dimenio a few blocks down. Mr. L had this shop down on this block. He originally wanted it to be an auto mechanic shop, but very few people actually owned cars here, so he switched it up and turned it into a small convenience store. He sold coffee, drinks, snacks, items, almost every small item you could think of.

Blumiere and Timpani both spend their time at the school, teaching. There are two k-12 schools in this town. One on the poorer side, and one on the richer side. Blumiere and Timpani teach at the poorer one since they'll literally hire anyone. Timpani teaches music class while Blumiere is an assistant principal. Their jobs are very demanding and they get very little pay, so they spend most of their time there. It took a while for the school to even allow Blumiere to work, due to his... background. However, they finally let him in, paying him half what everyone else is paid, but still. At least he's getting something.

A nine-year-old boy named Oliver comes walking in. He steps behind the counter and exhaustedly sets his bag down.

"Oliver, you're late," Mr. L states, looking at his watch, then down at the kid.

"Chillax, L. Ya know you love me," Oliver replies with a smile and a wink.

Mr. L rolls his eyes.

Oliver is Blumiere and Timpani's son. He's a bright young man. Scrappy, smart, and determined to help his parents in any way he can. He only goes to school twice a week, but he's smart enough to catch up. He manages to still be a straight-A student. He got this job here to help his parents pay the rent, which has rapidly increased over the years. His skin is a pale almost white color, his eyes both are dark blue, and his hair is a dark black with a few streaks of white. He's fairly tall for his age as well.

Mr. L smiles at the kid and tosses him a rag. "Hey, clean the windows for me. I cleaned them on the inside but the outside still needs polished."

Oliver smirks, then salutes and goes to work. "K. On it."

Mr. L lightly laughs, then sits behind the counter, waiting for someone to come in. Of course, the first people in are Timpani and Blumiere, like every morning.

"I see you're keeping Oliver busy," Blumiere notes.

"Well," Mr. L laughs. "I don't pay him to just hang out with me."

They both chuckle as Blumiere and Timpani order coffees. They also each buy a few small snacks to get them through the day when Oliver comes back in.

"Sup parents," Oliver says, flinging the rag behind his shoulder and making finger guns at them.

"Oliver!!" Timpani exclaims, quickly hugging him. "Good Morning kiddo! You left before we even got to wish you good luck today! Mr. L isn't overworking you, is he-"

"Chill mom. I'm all good," He says with a smirk. "You don't have to worry. Are we doing okay money-wise?"

She pats his head. "We're doing alright. Your father and I can't thank you enough for stepping up and helping."

"It's no problem," The kid says, wiggling out of her arms and going to stand behind the counter with Mr. L.

"So," Blumiere starts, paying for his food. "Has Dimentio shown up yet?"

Mr. L's smile immediately fades and his face goes a little red. "Shut up."

"Hey, don't get so upset. Come on, it's been ten years," Blumiere points out. "Just tell the guy how you feel."

"NO!" Mr. L snaps. "You can't just... I can't... shut up!!"

Everyone laughs as Mr. L's face turns red in embarrassment. Over time Dimentio became less and less distant, but he still didn't really speak to any of them. He came in occasionally to buy a coffee since 'all the other coffee stores added too much cream.' But at least he didn't seem to totally hate any of them anymore. He was a street magician. Though his magic was gone, he learned sleight of hand and card tricks to perform on the richer streets. Anything to collect cash so he could get by. For ten years he's been saving up to get a bigger home up in the richer part of town, away from the sketchy parts of the city so he could finally live comfortably. He desperately needed a goal to reach for.

"You know," Timpani starts. "If you never tell him how you feel, then nothing's ever gonna happen."

"You think I don't know that?" Mr. L asks. "Beleive me, I've tried! I just... can't."

Oliver smirks, then stands up on his tip-toes to place a hand on Mr. L's shoulder.

"Yeah, that's rough buddy." The kid says with a smirk, causing L to lightly shove him away when the door quickly opens.

Everyone looks over to see Dimentio rushing inside with a cell phone pressed up to his ear.

"No, no, no! You're not listening," Dimentio urges into the small phone. Blumiere and Timpani both turn to face Mr. L and smirk, while the man in green's face heats up. The jester quickly walks through the store and goes to the drink section. "Listen, I've got the security deposit. It's with me. I know it's not reflected in the stupidly overcomplicated bank statement, but I've been saving to make a down payment so I can pay the rent!"

He pauses, before yelling, "YES IT'S REAL! It's as real as the very oxygen you breathe! I promise I won't let you down."

Oliver giggles and elbows Mr. L. "Yo, here's your chance, ask him out right now!"

Mr. L rolls his eyes and shoves the kid away as Dimentio continues looking around. "I'll talk later, we can work on that lease. I gotta get going," He mutters, hanging up the phone.

"Come on! Do something! Make your move," Timpani urges, gently pushing Mr. L forward into Dimentio, causing the jester to jump slightly.

"Hey..." Mr. L says while everyone else snickers behind him.

"You!" Dimentio says with a serious expression before it melts into a smirk. "Owe me a bottle of cold champagne."

Mr. L lightly smiles and scratches the back of his neck. "Why? What's the occasion? You moving?"

"I just need a small credit check and I'll be on that downtown train," He chimes. Mr. L shakes his head and hands him a coffee. "Well, I don't sell those. But your coffee's on the house."

"Okay," Dimentio says, taking it.

"Come on L, ask him out!" Blumiere whispers softly enough that Dimentio doesn't hear.

"No way," Mr. L whisper screams back.

Dimentio gives a slightly confused look before shrugging and heading back for the door. "Well, I'll see you later."

He leaves, and Mr. L softly smiles.

".....Aaaaaand, there he goes." Oliver teases. "That was smooth, lover boy."

"Oh, shut up," Mr. L groans, covering his face.

"Oliver, you don't have to make fun of Mr. L just because he's terrible at communicating his feelings," Timpani scolds, making Mr. L groan more, then point to the door, looking up at Blumiere and Timpani. "You two don't work here, so get out!"

They both chuckle before hugging their son. "Alright. Alright," Blumiere laughs. "You two have fun. Don't overwork him, Mr. L."

"Bye Oliver!" Timpani waves, as the two step outside.

Once they were gone Mr. L lets out a sigh and leans back.

"So are ya ever gonna go after him, or are you just gonna keep standing there like some sort of weirdo and give away free coffee?" Oliver asks. Mr. L shakes his head and hands the kid a towel. "Go clean something."

"Yes Sir," Oliver giggles, wiping down the counters. "But seriously. What do you want out of this all?"

"What do you mean by 'this all?'" Mr. L questions, organizing some goods.

"Life. What do ya want out of it?"

"Well, for the past ten years I've kinda always wanted to escape. I like space. It would be cool to go there. Maybe get out of this small town and see the world." Mr. L explains. "Someday, I'd like to stand on the sky..."

"Stand on the sky..." Oliver whispers, before throwing the rag over his shoulder and turning to Mr. L. "And why don't ya?"

"Traveling takes money, and the rest of the world doesn't even know I exist anymore. I don't think Mario would be too happy if I just re-appeared all of a sudden."

"Ah, the red mustache guy who nearly killed dad. THAT Mario?" Oliver asks with a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

"Yes. That Mario."

"Pfft, I bet I could take him," Oliver brags, crossing his arms.

"Well, good luck with even getting out of here to do that. What's your goal, kid?"

"Mine?" Oliver asks. "I dunno. I guess... I don't know. The teachers at school talk of something called college. That sounds pretty cool."

Mr. L smiles at him, then grabs his own rag. "Ah, college. Well, keep working hard, and you just might get there."

_______

Dimentio slowly walks through the town sighing. He slowly comes up to into his old, rundown apartment and shuts the door, leaning his head against it. There was the sound of a loud fight going on just outside, but he didn't mind. It was normal. He slowly kicks off his shoes and walks over to his closet. Inside is a small box with a bunch of money he had been collecting and saving over the years. He picks up the box and thinks of the better home.

It was the only goal he could think of setting now. The only thing he could reach for. The closest he could get to a more perfect world in this condition. No mask, no magic, the fact that if he left Mario would surely finish the job and kill him.

He hugs the small box to himself and sighs.

"It won't be long now..."