[TW-Violence against a crab]
"Fan!"
Paintbrush crouched down, wrapping their long and lanky arms around the tiny Fan. He shook away his shock, as well as the disappointment that it wasn't MePhone. Then, excitement started crawling up his spine.
"PAINTBRUSH!!"
He wrapped his short arms around the tall brush.
"Awh, hey! What was it you called me? MePhone??"
They picked up the little man, a bright smile painted across their face.
"Do I look like a fat slob to you??"
They joked.
Fan shook his head cheerily.
"I was just- well I don't know what I was thinking!! But I'm even happier that it's you!!"
He flailed his arms around in the air till the brush placed him gently on the ground. Their height difference was staggering, but this didn't intimidate him. Unlike OJ, Paintbrush and he had a history, or at least a personal history. Fan's I.I. obsession surely included OJ in the mix, as well as Paintbrush, but they were friends, or at the least, Bright Lights. And that bright smile that plagued his face just wouldn't go away.
OJ couldn't take his eyes off them either. He didn't know what exactly had put him on edge, but the sight of them made his stomach turn unpleasantly, even more so as the tall object walked towards him.
"Hey, OJ!"
They extended a hand to him. He did not shake it.
"What, why the long face?"
Paintbrush asked, tilting their head slightly. Their messy bristles fell over one side of their face, obscuring it.
Fan stood just behind Paintbrush, as if they'd protect him from the hotel manager. Fan couldn't quite describe just how much he was terrified of the man, and he was even more humiliated to admit it, or how he'd been quite literally shut up.
OJ looked them up and down.
"Come on. Look, if there's any bad feelings between us still, you can tell me. Everything that happened back on that island- we can work it out right?"
"..Huh?"
He asked, stupefied.
"The Thinkers, OJ."
Their smile didn't falter as they gave OJ a friendly pat on the back. They stepped away from him, before turning back once more.
"I like the umbrella by the way! It suits you."
Paintbrush concluded.
They walked off, the small Fan following right behind them.
What the hell?
He finally snapped out of his silence, shaking his head. He had to quite literally slap himself fully back to attention. It hadn't been that long since he last saw them, and he knew Paintbrush had never had this effect on him. Was he intimidated?
Of course NOT.
He was better than that! And Paintbrush respected him, best of all. He'd lost enough allies recently, having one more could be for the better.
That's right. We were BOTH on the Thinkers. Good 'thinking,' Paintbrush.
"This place feels...Creepy, huh?"
Paintbrush commented to their short companion.
Fan was keeping up pace with his friend, despite them taking longer steps, thus being faster. He was a tad out of breath.
"Y-yeah...I mean, it's not that bad! Y-You'll get used to it!"
He replied.
Paintbrush could feel an unusual tension in the air, so much so they thought they could cut it with Knife.
They weren't sure where this tension was located exactly, it seemed to permeate through every door, down each hallway. They peered down at Fan, still following behind like a loyal dog.
"Are you feeling alright?"
They asked him.
Fan cocked his head to the side in confusion.
"Why wouldn't I be?"
He replied with a smile.
Paintbrush caught a hint of falsehood in that smile. Fan was on edge, they didn't know why. This was not the atmosphere they'd hoped to return to after so long.
Why is everyone acting so weird?
"How come you're so...off?"
They asked once more.
"I assure you, Paintbrush, I'm fine!"
Fan didn't know why he was lying to his friend, maybe because subconsciously he didn't want them to become victim to the despair the hotel caught everyone in, or just because he was ashamed to admit his weakness.
"You can tell me the truth."
They mentioned, crouching down to his level.
"I'm- I'm truthful! You calling me a liar?"
Fan giggled, remarking in mock anger.
Paintbrush didn't laugh. They just looked sincerely at him.
"Did something happen while I was gone?"
They asked again, as sincere as ever.
Fan looked dumbfounded. Of COURSE they had no idea. Paintbrush didn't see anything. They weren't here. But why should he tell them? Paintbrush didn't deserve to know how awful things were going, lest they become something unrecognizable. He didn't want that to happen.
"Well...I...I wouldn't say that. It's..a-"
"-Oh MY GOSH!! Is that PAINTBRUSH???"
Fan and Paintbrush immediately turned their heads to face the eccentric pepper shaker, who was waving her hand aggressively in their direction.
"HIIII! HI HI!!"
She was practically beaming.
Paintbrush looked perplexed. They'd never been particularly close to Pepper, but then again, they'd never had any animosity between each other. So they walked over to her, Fan still following behind.
"Hey!"
They greeted her.
Paintbrush looked over her head, spotting two others behind her.
"Hi Mic."
They waved at the aforementioned. They did not greet Trophy.
"What have you guys-"
"-OH It's sooooo nice to see you again! Like I know we've never been best-best-friends or anything, but It's sooo nice to see a familiar face again!"
She said, cutting them off mid-sentence.
"I like your...look?"
They peeked over at the other two behind her.
"You guys matching?"
She smiled the widest smile Paintbrush had ever seen on her face.
"Ohhhh Mic! Trophyyy!"
The two walked up to her side, sharing her smile.
"Introducing the new, the cute, the best group this hotel has ever seen..."
She started.
"PMT!"
She gestured to her comrades.
"P..M..T?"
Paintbrush repeated slowly. Pepper nodded enthusiastically.
"Pepper,"
She gestured to herself.
"Mic!"
Microphone pointed to herself.
"Trophy.."
He said, barely audible.
"Ohhhh! I get it! Nice name. You know I'm quite fond of acronyms.."
Fan commented.
"Thank youuuu, thank you...I named us myself!"
Pepper remarked, smiling at her other friends.
Paintbrush looked them all up and down, and after a minute of silence spoke up again.
"Where's Salt?"
They asked.
Fan's breath caught in his throat, and he felt himself go pale. He thought suddenly that letting them know what exactly was wrong would've been for the better.
Microphone and Trophy looked pale too, and they turned their heads slowly to face Pepper. Her signature grin was all but gone. But, she kept her composure.
"Oh...Hah, right, you don't know."
She spoke somberly.
"Salt um, well...There was like...An accident.."
Painty's eyes widened, realizing where this was going.
"..Oh. Look, I-I just asked because you- you two are always together, I'm sorry. What happened?"
They asked in worry.
Fan tugged on their leg, mouthing the word 'no.'
"Oh, y'know. Just a tumble down the stairs."
Pepper said quickly, then smiled again.
Paintbrush was in a bit of shock, not from her easygoing description of what was probably a pretty bad way to go, but how fast she stopped caring. They were always under the impression that those two were inseparable, and could never stand to be apart. Why didn't she care?
"But it's okay!"
She quickly added.
"I-Is it...?"
Fan quietly asked.
"I'll be waiting for her when she gets back. Salt would want me to not be so mopey and sad...And gosh, I spent so long doing that already. I'm not gonna live in misery until I see her again."
She concluded.
Paintbrush had no clue Pepper could be so stoic and mature about something like this. She was a completely different person when Salt wasn't around, and they very much wanted to get to know this person.
"I...It's good that you're taking it so well."
They remarked.
"And hey! It's not like I'm in bad company!"
She grabbed Mic's hand, holding it in her own.
"Look at us, I mean I can't believe I didn't try talking to these lovely people before.."
She stated.
Microphone didn't seem to mind the gesture, and actually gave Pepper a little twirl while they held hands.
Paintbrush followed their turn, and their gaze moved back to Trophy. They realized just how unusual he seemed, from his uncharacteristic silence to merely associating with someone like Pepper, he was even wearing a bow like the other two. His meekness was so out of character it was almost unsettling.
"And what's wrong with you??"
They asked, pointing at the shy award.
Pepper released Microphone from her grasp and walked over to her other comrade.
"What are you talking about? Nothings wrong with this guy!"
She flashed him a smile, and he gave a little one back.
"I just expected him to say something rude to us at this point."
They added.
She gingerly put an arm around his head and one hand on his face, as if displaying him to the others. He looked less tolerant of this gesture, but he didn't fight her grasp.
"Aww but look at this face?? You might not know this, but he's a sweetheart. Mean old Mr. Trophy isn't who you think he is..."
She released him from her grip, laughing at his flustered expression.
"I'm not a sweetheart.."
He muttered in embarrassment.
"Oh hush you are!"
She shushed him, tapping a finger on the side of his head.
"And maybe I'm a little jealous that you can pull off wearing that better than me."
She added a bit regretfully.
Fan's smile returned. He was witnessing a unique ability that Pepper possessed, that was the ability to put people at ease. It was odd, she was practically just a clone of Salt, right down to how she spoke, but the difference lay in her tone. Whereas Salt was insincere in her backhanded comments, when Pepper said things, they were to lift people's spirits, at least most of the time. She was a kind soul and he never knew it.
"And can I just say. Brush- Can I like, call you Brush?"
"Uh...sure? "
"Your bristles are like, soooo cute...How did you get them to look like that???"
She asked with intense interest.
"Oh! Well, I'm glad you asked."
OJ needed desperately to take his mind off of everything. He didn't know why he felt things anymore, his emotions and his actions didn't have a logic to them. He did violent to stupid things, and he said things that just made everything worse. He wouldn't let this keep happening. With his mind so focused on Paintbrush, an idea sprung into his brain.
The crab! I need to go feed it.
He'd been taking care of Paintbrush's pet for the last few month since they'd been gone. He'd promised them personally he would guard it with his life. Though, now he was blanking on the name. He had just been calling it Bob, since he knew it wouldn't respond to any name he called it regardless. Before him, Paper would take care of it when they went on their 'vacation.' Though, OJ was sure Paper didn't remember its name either.
He quietly stepped into his room, fumbling around in the dark to find the lightswitch. The last thing he wanted to do was step on the damn thing.
That would hurt like a bitch.
He finally found the switch, though the light wouldn't work. He muttered angrily under his breath, and just carefully stepped around in the dark.
"C'mere Bob. Heyyy, it's me. Where are you?"
He said, as if the crab would come running to him.
He could hear the faint sound of something scuttling around, so he knew it was in here, and that it escaped its containment once again. He stepped even more cautiously around the dark room.
OJ's leg smashed against the bedside table and he crouched down in pain. This stupid crab was giving him more trouble than it was worth. He shakily reached up to turn on the lamp and sat atop the bedside table, and it nearly blinded him when it turned on.
He took a moment to stand again as he looked around the floor for the crab.
When he didn't spot it, he turned over the bed's covers, still nothing. He checked under the bed, the furniture, everything that it could crawl under, still no sign of it. It was only when he glanced up did he find the crab atop his dresser, happily chewing its way through his stash of decorative oranges. He just stood there in awe at first, amazed that it had even gotten all the way up there, and somehow found the fruit to eat. Then, he felt that bubbling anger rising within him. That stupid sea creature had eaten its way through his things, after he spent so long taking care of it. He reached up to the dresser to pull it down, but the damn thing pinched his finger with one of its sharp pincers.
OJ recoiled, and he saw red. He aggressively shook the dresser, watching the crab fall down. He watched it scuttle under the bed in fright. He reached under the bed once again, yanking it back by a leg. The only thing that accomplished was getting his hand pinched once more.
He grabbed the umbrella from out of his head, holding it at the ready. He was patient. When the crab reared its ugly head from beneath the bed, OJ speared the umbrella right down at it. It was a direct hit, and he swore he heard it make a sound of pain. He wasn't satisfied, and while the crab was still, he wielded the umbrella like a club and whacked the crab right into the adjacent wall. It exploded in a cascade of shell shards and innards. All was quiet.
OJ blinked a few times, looking directly at the crab perfectly perched atop the dresser, happily eating the orange held aloft in its claws.
I didn't do it.
This was the second time, and this time he'd killed it.
He sat down on the bed, letting the crab eat as much as it wanted. He would never actually hurt it, right? He wasn't capable of murdering such an innocent and defenseless creature, and with such little hesitation.
But that was so clear.
He wasn't a monster. He didn't have it in him to hurt it.
And it was so satisfying.
He didn't trust himself. He stood on his tippy-toes and reached up to grab the crab. He expected to be pinched once again, but to his surprise, it carefully crawled into his hands, no hesitation. He put his hands back down, looking at it. It looked back.
He gently leaned forward, turning his head down in shame.
"I'm sorry."
He whispered to it.
The crab just stared.
"Mic- can I call you Mic?"
Pepper kicked her legs up on the couch, laying against Microphone.
"Uh..Sure you can!"
Mic responded a bit hesitant.
"Mic do youuuuu like, sing?"
Pepper asked, stretching a bit.
"Um...Nope! I don't sing. I'm- not that great at it."
"Whaaaat? But you're a- um. I bet you've got the voice for it."
She reiterated.
"I bet...Mic is good at sports."
Trophy perked up.
He was lying on the opposite side of the couch from the girls.
"You're so tall, you'd be an asset on any team."
"Yeah right! Didn't you see how 'good' I was at soccer?"
She sarcastically remarked.
Trophy shook his head.
'I...Don't remember much about the show."
"Like, me either. That was soooo forever ago...."
Pepper and Trophy added.
"You were just in season one, I can't imagine how long ago that was."
"Oh Mic, I was still a kid! I don't think I was any older than..."
Pepper trailed off, lost in happy memories.
"But idiotic island was SO not cool."
"Huh?"
"What?"
Mic and Trophy asked in unison.
"Oh. My. GOSH. Don't get me started."
Pepper turned around to face her very intrigued friends.
"When I or anybody got eliminated, we got flung into this big cell- like a jail? On this dingy little island."
"When we got eliminated, MePhone locked us in that closet..."
Trophy added.
"Oh my GOSH you're right, I remember that!"
Pepper recalled the day well, the highlight mostly being sitting in a courtroom and watching MePhone 4 get his ass hauled away to jail, even if for a short time.
She also remembered other things.
'OJ OMG I'm freezing! Where is that towel??"
'Don't go in there!!'
'Like, why not?'
'Uhh. Um I mean nevermind, go ahead.'
She rolled her eyes.
"OJ is the worst."
"He used to be...fine. I guess."
"hey...Pepper, sorry about uh..back then. With the.."
Trophy started, but Pepper waved her hand dismissively.
"Oh, don't even worry. If I was locked in a closet and covered in snot I wouldn't be acting normal either."
She was lost in thought again, remembering that day.
'Do you know what it's like to be sneezed on, every single day, MULTIPLE TIMES?!!"
"Uh...well..like..'
'IT'S NOT FUN! IT'S NOT, IT'S NOT!!!'
She chuckled to herself, glancing back at him. He gave her a little smile. Trophy was so distinct from the old him, it was almost funny.
She reached forward, grabbing him by one of the handles on his head and pulling him towards them.
"C'mere!! We don't bite!"
Trophy wasn't exactly a fan of being pulled and prodded about, but he didn't want to argue with her. He sat right next to them both, still wearing a smile.
"I like, really hope your room is waaaay better than that mess."
"I guess...I share a room with Tissues."
Pepper recoiled in disgust.
"Like ew...I guess you didn't get better than that."
'It's more space! Uh- and he's fine. He's...cool."
"I kinda wanna get to know him..But if he EVER sneezes on me I am running away! What about you, Mic? Who are you bunking with??"
Microphone paused, looking from one face to another. She looked off to the side.
'Welllll...I don't have a roommate."
She said at last.
Pepper gasped dramatically.
"Whaaaat?!! Why didn't you like- tell me?? You're all alone and he's got a biohazard for a roommate!"
She sat up, looking at them both.
Trophy furrowed his brow a bit.
"I- I wouldn't call him that.."
"Still like, you two CANNOT be serious. Oh. My. Gosh.."
She wrapped her arms around them both.
"No. Nope. I don't accept these living conditions. You two should totally stay in MY room!"
The aforementioned objects exchanged looks.
"Are you serious?"
"LIKE YES I'M SERIOUS!! I'm not letting you sleep alone in this awful place! And you, oh you probably wake up every day with the flu.."
She once again pet Trophy on the head like a cat.
"I don't know how I feel about just leaving Tissues alone. After what OJ did to him, he's not well."
"Trophy. He's like, NEVER well."
"Worse than usual."
"Is that like, even possible?"
"Pepper. Please I can't leave anyone else to fend for themselves."
"You can hardly fend for YOURself, Mr. sensitive!"
Trophy stood up from the couch, facing her with a fierce determination.
"I am NOT sensitive. And I'm staying in my room. I am GRATEFUL that you offered, but please, I-"
He was interrupted by his own series of coughs.
"Okay, okay. I get it. But YOU!"
She all but ignored Trophy and pulled Mic's face to the side, facing her.
"You are staying in MY room from this day on!!!! How's that sound??"
Microphone wasn't sure just how to respond. This was exactly what she'd wanted from the start, someone she could come to for help, a person willing to kill the loneliness and offer support. But something about this didn't feel natural. It happened too fast, they'd practically JUST gotten to know one another. But that didn't matter now, because she had started nodding her head faster than she could rationalize the decision.
Pepper wrapped her arms around her new roommate, giddy with excitement.
"Then it's decided!! Ahhh it's gonna be so much fun!! And hey, if YOU ever decide to ditch patient zero, you can join ME and MIC in our room!!"
She pointed to Trophy as she spoke.
Our room.
That felt so right.
"I'll be a great roommate! Trust me, I won't make any kind of mess..."
"Oh, girl, I know you'll be great."
She looked at her own reflection in Pepper's glass exterior. Mic knew from the twinge of static electricity she felt that she was fighting off tears, but she didn't care. She wiped her eyes with one hand, blinking a few times to compose herself.
"Hah..haha..Well. I'll do my best."
"Trophyyy! The offer is always open!"
Pepper sing-songed.
"Alright...But I think you've only got two beds in that room, dunno where I'd sleep, hahah..."
"Oh we can like, work that out, it's whatever."
Pepper shrugged.
"A problem to figure out in the future?"
"Like, a problem for PMT later!! Haha, ohh that's not catching on, is it.."
Pepper trailed off.
"No, no, I like it!"
Trophy reassured.
"It's nice."
He'd never been a part of something like this before, belonged to a group. Wherever name they had didn't matter much to him, as long as they stuck together. And while he would've loved to stay in the same room as the other two, his guilty conscience was getting the best of him. Tissues had shown him pity and kindness when he was at his lowest, sympathized with him. To just abandon him outright made him feel nasty. He'd never been a great roommate to Tissues, his old attitude nearly unbearable to stand. He was sure that if he was standing next to himself from merely a month ago, he would be appalled and unable to keep a conversation. Condishawn or not, Tissues didn't deserve to be abandoned outright.
"I like the name too! It'll catch on for sure."
"And like, your name's in the front, because you're kinda the team founder, or-"
"Like?"
"Huh-?"
Pepper was grinning from ear to ear as Trophy realized what he'd just said.
"Aw, jeez-"
"Awww you picked it up from me!!"
Pepper put her arms around the embarrassed Trophy.
"I sure did..haha, oh is that a bad thing?"
"UM?? No, it's so freaking CUTE is what it is!! We're soooo the same!"
In the embrace, the concept of an act had completely slipped Pepper's mind. Why exactly had she formed this artificial friend group again? Just for attention, or to fill the void? Whatever the reason, she hated to admit that she was starting to get attached to them, especially as they started picking up her mannerisms and way of speaking. She completely forgot why she was so stressed, and lost herself in the ruse. It was no lie how much they enjoyed one another's company, treating themselves to their own dose of tender loving care.
In the midst of this happy aura, a single sentence wormed its way back into Pepper's mind.
'Pepper do you...not want me back in the hotel?'
Salt. She forgot about Salt.
How in God's name could something like that have slipped her mind?
She shoved her two colleagues aside, standing up from the couch. She held onto the arm of the furniture for support.
"Pepper!"
"Hey..? What's wrong?"
The other two asked in sincere concern.
She shot them back with a terrified look.
"AH-! Nothing!! Hahah, no, nothing at all!!"
She went to wave her hand in a dismissive motion, but she was trembling so hard it looked more like she was trying to swat a fly.
Microphone reached out a hand to her.
"It doesn't look like nothing. Hey, you can trust us to-"
"-DON'T TOUCH ME!"
Pepper scrambled away from them, sprinting for the stairs. They watched her run, still sitting in place.
They looked at each other.
"We should follow her, right?"
"Yeah."
OJ carried the crab delicately in his hands, more gently than he'd ever held anything before. The crustacean would occasionally scuttle around his hands, but he would nudge it back in place with his fingers. He peered around the corner, spotting the one person he was looking for. He put on his best poker-face and winning smile, and stepped towards his old teammate.
"Heyyy! Look who it is!"
He called out.
Paintbrush turned their head, their face immediately lighting up with joy.
"Baxter!"
Oh. That was its name.
"Yeah! He's been missing you!"
Paintbrush reached their hand over to the crab, letting it crawl into their grasp. OJ grinned widely as Paintbrush let the crab crawl all the way up their head, perched perfectly atop them.
"I really can't thank you enough. Was he a handful?"
"Oh, no no not at all. Hey, I'm sorry about the awkward welcome back. I've just had a lot on my plate recently, and I wasn't expecting to see you!"
He admitted.
"I'll be sure to let Lightbulb know how good of a pet-sitter you are,"
They said, looked around.
Those words took OJ aback, as he suddenly realized something.
"..Yeah. Um..."
"Where is she, by the way?"
"You..you think she's staying here?"
OJ asked them.
The smile painted on the brush's face fell instantly.
"Is she not?"
"No, no. I- I actually don't know where they are."
He'd never once thought about the final four remaining contestants of Inanimate Insanity season 2, much less where they were staying for the past few months. Now he was immensely concerned.
"I- Okay, I'm sure...She's around. Lightbulb doesn't tend to run off."
"Right..."
"And...Hey, I heard about what happened to Salt."
Oh sweet Jesus, don't mention her.
"Oh yeah? You did?"
"Pepper told me."
"It's a shame."
OJ said bluntly, as if wanting to change the topic.
"Look, I know how she was towards you, but I feel awful for Pepper. She's not herself, if anything she's just trying to put up a strong front...for whatever reason."
"I...I didn't know you knew Pepper all that well."
"We've spoken before."
Baxter gently crawled back down Paintbrush's arm, sitting in their hands once more.
"Why...Why didn't you call MePhone? He could've recovered her."
Paintbrush asked.
To their surprise, OJ chuckled.
"Ohhhh, believe me I did. I called him damn near a hundred times. The bastard never answered."
He uttered with a hint of malice.
Paintbrush looked appalled by OJ's demeanor, so the hotel manager tried readjusting himself.
"aHEM!! But you're right. I- I really tried, I'm doing my best to keep everyone calm here."
"I know, I know. You look...tired."
They commented, gesturing to OJ's face.
"Just doing my job! I love to do it. And everyone is just- they're all looking for someone to turn to. I want you to know you can always come to me for anything."
"That means a lot. Thanks."
The brush turned to leave, petting the crab gently on the head.
OJ felt his stomach sink.
Is that it?
After all that, they would just leave? He spent all that time taking care of their stupid pet, and he'd just spilled his guts about how hard he worked, they didn't care.
He held out a hand to them. Paintbrush didn't notice and just kept walking away from him. The hand he so pathetically stretched out was clenched in rage. OJ turned on his heels and stomped out of the room.
This was bullshit. There wasn't a single person here that appreciated him, no matter what he did. It was almost enough to drive him to tears, but he wouldn't allow himself to fall that far, not out in the open. He hadn't cracked when he was atop those steps gazing down so many weeks ago, he wouldn't break now.
He practically walked in a circle back into the bar somehow. He was the only one there, except for Cheesy, who looked like he'd passed out atop the counter, sleeping like the dead.
Like the dead.
Death was creeping its way back into the hotel, he could feel it. Everyone was getting worked up again, and he just couldn't figure out why. He was supposed to be the manager, dammit. Why couldn't he get it together for a second?
His eyes wandered towards Cheesy, then to the many empty drinks around him. Maybe the fool had finally drank himself to death, and his shitty jokes wouldn't irritate him anymore.
His eyes then fell upon a half-empty glass of something in Cheesy's hands. He picked it up, and took a whiff. He looked back and forth, ensuring nobody was watching him.
He despised the idea of people who would drown themselves in liquor or other substances to cope, but anything that would provide him a temporary release from this hell was fine by him. He'd already thrown out his last morals anyway, so with a deep breath, he went to drink it. It tasted foul, and he spat it out immediately.
How the hell did Cheesy down so many of these..?
He spat a few more times, before another idea popped into his head. He raised the glass up to his head, pouring its contents inside of him. He blinked a few times, not feeling anything. That was until his head started buzzing, and his vision felt blurry.
Oh shiiiiiiit.
A smile stretched across his face, and OJ giggled with pure glee. His laughter made Cheesy stir a bit in his sleep, to which OJ abruptly kicked over his chair, making him fall to the ground. Cheesy did not wake still, and in fact looked comfier on the ground. OJ howled with laughter with a sick and twisted glee. He turned his head slightly, allowing a considerable amount of juice to spill from his head. He didn't seem to notice or care. He was too busy laughing like a madman, for as loud and as long as he possibly could.
Unlike the fear of hearing screams echoing the halls of Hotel OJ, something about the incessant and mad laughter was almost worse to Paper. He was sure everyone could hear it. As of late, he'd retreated into himself, not speaking to anyone, much less OJ, who wasn't even the same person he knew anymore. The mere sound of his laughter was enough to tell Paper as much, but there were many other signs. He didn't know who was to blame, but for some reason he felt the need to blame himself. He could've tried speaking to OJ earlier, at least to show he cared. He didn't want to admit it, but a part of him knew why he hadn't done that.
I'm not afraid of him.
He lied to himself. He deeply, truly loved him. But OJ was unrecognizable, a completely different and awful person. Something else Paper didn't want to admit was how much better off everyone seemed than OJ, even Pepper had replaced Salt as if it was nothing, something Paper didn't know was possible. Why was OJ the one still bitter and miserable?
He wished he could take that pain away. Paper would gladly take away his suffering if he could, but nothing he did or said had worked thus far. He racked his brain for something, anything that could help OJ, before he fully finished turning into this monster.
His frenzied thoughts stopped instantly as he felt someone's hands covering his eyes, whispering right by his head.
"Guess who!!?"
An unfamiliar voice sing-songed.
Paper froze, his hands slowly moving upwards to hold the stranger's hands.
"OJ...?"
He timidly guessed.
"YEP!!"
He said enthusiastically as Paper turned on his heels to face him.
OJ was smiling happily, his hands pressed on his own face.
"You guessed RIGHT! So smart!"
"..OJ are you alright?"
Paper asked slowly.
OJ took the decorative umbrella out of his head, and spun around whilst holding it daintily, as if mimicking Mary Poppins.
"You have NO idea how goooood I feel!! Everything is ALL better!"
He passionately declared, as if he was reciting a poem.
Paper was completely baffled. This stranger in front of him was a near identical carbon-copy of OJ, but surely it couldn't really be him. It felt less like someone reading from a script, and more like OJ was putting on a very bad Salt impression.
"Paper Paper Paper PAPER! Paper. I have ideas. SOOO many ideas in my brain. I NEED to tell someone."
"Y-you could tell me!"
He offered, still wary.
OJ grabbed him by the arm, less in a threatening manner and more like a child pulling their companion away to play a game. He and Paper ran gleefully through the halls, the hotel manager still giggling incessantly.
"I figured it out!! I know how to fix this place!"
"O-Oh really? What is it?"
Paper was almost too scared to ask, the wild look in OJ's eyes gave him goosebumps.
"It was so simple, I dunno HOW I didn't see it before!"
He promptly stopped, turning around and holding both of Paper's hands gently. The piece of paper met his gaze.
"This place needs some redecorating."