Xylophone Chronicles

The clock ticked softly in headquarters as the faint glow of Riley’s dream materialised on the central console. Envy paced restlessly, her tiny figure silhouetted against the walls. She wore her signature white sleeping gown, the fabric swaying lightly with each turn she made. Despite the serene appearance of the mindscape at night, her thoughts were anything but calm.

A week had passed since her last Dream Duty, a shift unlike any other. Envy couldn’t stop replaying the events over and over in her mind: the surreal experience of skating and flying above a dreamscape San Francisco with Shame, his silent yet strangely comforting presence, and the curious bond they had formed, however tentative. Even as her mind told her it was far too soon to trust him, her heart argued that his actions spoke differently.

As the other emotions trickled out of headquarters to retire to their rooms for the night, Envy had bid each of them goodnight with a new kind of bounce in her step.

Joy and Xy were the first to notice.

“You seem especially bubbly tonight, Envy,” Joy had commented with a curious tilt of her head.

Xy, her orange counterpart, nodded in agreement.

“What’s got you so chipper? Is Joy’s endless positivity starting to infect you too?” Xy added, giving Envy a friendly punch to the arm.

Envy had brushed it off with a nonchalant shrug.

“Oh, nothing… Just looking forward to some quiet time.”

Next came Sadness, who gave Envy a gentle pat on the head before shuffling off to the stairs, followed by Anger, grumbling about being kept awake by Riley’s homework stress earlier that day. Fear had made his usual awkward exit, muttering something about “sleep paralysis,” while Disgust rolled her eyes and wished Envy luck, adding,

“Good luck not yearning for sleep.”

Embarrassment appeared next, offering only a shy wave and a smile. Envy couldn’t help but giggle at his timidity.

Finally, Ennui emerged, scrolling through her phone with her usual air of detachment. But before heading upstairs, she paused to glance at Envy. For a brief moment, Ennui’s expression softened into a genuine smile, something that had come up a lot more often since the Shame crisis. She didn’t say anything, but the gesture spoke volumes.

“G’night, Weewee.” Envy said cheerfully, trying to ignore how much that little smile meant to her.

When headquarters had finally gone quiet and the other emotions had disappeared into their rooms, Envy couldn’t help but let out an excited giggle. The console flickered as Riley drifted deeper into sleep, dreams beginning to take shape on the screens. Normally, Dream Duty meant monitoring Riley in her sleep, occasionally completing small tasks here and there in between. But tonight, Envy found herself distracted, pacing the room with nervous energy. Her eyes checked every shadow, every flicker of light, every draft of air. She hoped, even prayed, to feel that familiar presence, the strange yet comforting entity that had unexpectedly become her companion last week. Her thoughts lingered on the shiny, teal and purple screwdriver that Shame gave her. Nowadays, it rested in her room like a prized trophy.

“C’mon,” she murmured under her breath, pacing faster.

“I know you’re out there…”

She tried to shake off the growing sense of disappointment. It was silly, she thought, to assume that Shame would come back so soon. Maybe last week had been a one-time thing, a fleeting anomaly, never to be repeated.

Still, the thoughts lingered. Could she really forgive him for everything he had done? The torment he had inflicted on Riley’s mind, on the other emotions, and on her? The manipulations, the nightmares, the possession, it was an impossibly heavy weight to carry. She admitted to herself that it wasn’t something that could be erased in one dream shift, or even in many.

But Shame had tried. That much was undeniable.

Envy paused her pacing, letting the memories of the night resurface: the skating, the flying, the moment of connection as she’d thanked him for showing her the stars. She sighed, resting her tiny hands on her hips as she stared at the console, Riley’s dream playing on its screens like a movie she couldn’t fully focus on.

“I guess it’s gonna take more time,” she thought to herself.

“But… I can’t pretend last week didn’t mean something.”

She resumed her pacing, but as minutes turned into an hour, the excitement in her step dulled into slow, shuffling strides. The stillness of headquarters felt heavier with every passing second. She caught herself glancing at the ceiling or looking over her shoulder, hoping for that familiar gust of wind or trace of black ink that marked Shame’s presence. But the room remained silent, static. A lump formed in her throat as the idea began to sink in. Maybe last week really was a one-time thing. Maybe Shame had moved on, and she was foolish for holding onto the hope that he would return. She thought about her screwdriver in her room again, a bittersweet smile tugging at her lips. It was proof that the encounter had been real, but it didn’t ease the growing disappointment in her chest.

With a quiet sigh, she returned to the couch and climbed onto it, plopping herself down. She pulled her knees to her chest as she stared at the console.

“Maybe…that’s all it was.” she whispered to herself, her voice tinged with sadness.

For now, the room remained quiet.

Time drifted sluggishly as Envy sat curled up on the couch, staring listlessly at the glowing console screen. Riley’s dream played out with unbridled energy, a high-octane race on a brightly lit Formula One track. Riley, firmly seated in her red and black car, was speeding past competitors, her vibrant yellow helmet gleaming under the stadium lights. The crowd erupted in cheers every time her car zipped by. Fireworks painted the nighttime sky with bursts of colour, and Riley’s joy was palpable, reflected in the wide grin on her dream self’s face. But for Envy, the scene couldn’t have felt more removed from her current mood. She sighed heavily, resting her chin on her knees as her big eyes lazily tracked Riley’s car looping around the track. The exhilaration in the dream was a stark contrast to the quiet melancholy weighing her down.

“So this is what it’s back to,” she mumbled to herself, her voice laced with disappointment.

“The same old, same old.”

Dream Duty was, by its nature, repetitive. Observe, log details, make small adjustments if necessary. But the memories of last week refused to leave her mind. For once, the shift had felt… different. Special. Her connection with Shame, unexpected and confusing as it was, had brought a strange excitement to the monotony of her work. And now, with no sign of him, the night felt empty.

Just as she was starting to resign herself to the familiar routine, a cold breeze swept through headquarters. It came without warning, light yet sharp enough to draw her out of her thoughts. Envy stiffened, the chill brushing against her skin like a whispered reminder. Her eyes widened slightly, her lips parting as she froze in place. For a moment, she said nothing, waiting, feeling.

The air in the room felt different now, heavier yet oddly comforting. Then, slowly, a smile spread across her face, small at first, barely there, before growing into something radiant. Her teal complexion seemed to brighten, her big eyes filling with a gleam of hope as she exhaled a shaky breath.

“Shame,” she said softly, her voice tinged with a mix of relief and warmth.

“Is that you?”

The room was silent. No reply came, no movement, no shadows bending to reply, yet the cold air lingered, wrapping itself around her like a presence that couldn’t be ignored.

She didn’t need an answer. She knew.

Envy leaned back into the couch, letting out a soft, contented sigh. The lonely heaviness that had been gnawing at her all evening began to dissipate, replaced by a quiet sense of reassurance.

“I knew you’d come back.” she murmured, almost to herself.

There was no sign of him, not yet. But it didn’t matter. She could feel him there, all around her, just as she had hoped. And for the first time that night, she felt truly at ease. Envy’s eyes scanned headquarters with quiet determination. The change in the atmosphere was undeniable, but she needed something more tangible, a real sign that he was truly there. Her gaze darted to the corners of the room, lingering on the shadows. Everything seemed normal at first glance, but there was something off about them. The shapes appeared to waver ever so slightly, like oil swirling lazily in water. Her teal hands gripped the edge of the couch as she leaned forward, her head tilting. Her big eyes narrowed, scrutinising every detail. There was a faint smudge of black on the floor near the console, not quite a shadow, but rather a dark stain that seemed to ripple gently, as though alive.

It was ink.

Shame’s ink.

It wasn’t there before, she was certain of it.

A small smile tugged at her lips.

“Okay, that’s more like it,” she whispered to herself.

She turned her attention to the console itself. At first, the screen displayed Riley’s dream with the usual clarity: the racetrack, the roaring cars, the firework-lit sky. But now, Envy noticed something strange. There, for the briefest moment, the track’s asphalt shimmered, not gray, but black, as if covered by a slick layer of ink. It flickered back to normal in an instant.

The telltale signs of Shame’s presence were subtle, but they were there. He seemed to want her to find him in her own time.

Satisfied that he was near, Envy slowly turned her attention back to the screen. Riley’s car weaved expertly between opponents, the dream pulsing with life and colour, but her thoughts drifted elsewhere. After a moment of hesitation, she clasped her tiny teal hands together, fidgeting as she worked up the courage to speak.

“So…” she began, her voice soft and uncertain.

“How are you?”

Her question hung in the air, unanswered, as expected. The shadows in the corners of the room stilled for a moment, then shifted gently, as though adjusting themselves. Envy could feel her cheeks grow warm, her own nervousness surprising her. It wasn’t like she expected Shame to respond, but she couldn’t stop herself from asking. The faintest breeze stirred her hair, cool and deliberate, as if in acknowledgement. Her smile turned sheepish as she glanced down, her hands squeezing together in her lap.

“Yeah, I know you’re not exactly the chatty type,” she murmured.

“But it’s… great to have you back.”

Envy tilted her head, tapping her chin with one teal finger as her thoughts meandered.

“Actually…” she muttered aloud, her voice trailing off into the stillness of headquarters.

Her eyes flickered to the faint ripples in the shadows, a smirk forming at the edges of her lips.

“You can be chatty, can’t you? I mean, technically speaking. In fact, I’ve seen it. Heard it, I mean.”

She sat back against the couch, arms crossed now in playful defiance.

“You can literally take up any voice you want. The demon voice, the New York voice…very versatile, I might add. And that creepy radio-static thing you’ve pulled?” She gestured vaguely toward the air with a shudder.

“I still can’t get over it, haha!”

Envy paused, squinting at the shadows as though expecting them to shift again.

“So, what gives? You’re not gonna freak me out with my own voice tonight? Or…” Her tone softened, trailing into something almost teasing.

“…Is the silent treatment part of this whole redemption arc you’re aiming for?”

For a moment, nothing responded. No distorted whispers, no mocking echoes. Only the faint rustle of a cool breeze passing through headquarters.

Envy rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the smile creeping back to her face.

A gentle gust of wind brushed past Envy, ruffling the edges of her sleeping gown. She felt it swirl around her, deliberate yet subtle, like a quiet acknowledgment. Envy raised an eyebrow, her smirk returning.

“Wow,” she teased, crossing her arms and leaning back against the couch.

“A whole breeze just for me? I’m flattered.” She glanced around, her voice dripping with mock dramatics.

“Honestly, Shame, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to be…a nice guy.”

The air grew still for a moment, almost like a pause for comedic timing, and Envy stifled a small chuckle.

“Hehe, I mean…that’s if you take the form of a guy. I dunno, I guess you could be a girl if you wanted to, right?”

The dream on the screen shifted into a comedic spectacle, the bright racetrack melting away into a slapstick routine. Riley now found herself running through a chaotic carnival, dodging pies, slipping on banana peels, and bumping into clowns. Envy’s laughter bubbled up as she leaned forward, hugging her knees. The absurdity was the perfect distraction from the long night.

That was, until Envy heard footsteps approaching behind the large red sofa. Her laughter froze, her whole body stiffening.

Panic quickly set in.

Was someone awake?

She turned her head slightly, her teal eyes narrowing. Was it Joy coming down to check on her? Or perhaps Xy? Before she could decide what to do, the weight of someone settling onto the couch beside her startled her further. Heart racing, Envy spun around, prepared to offer an awkward excuse. But when she saw who, or rather what was sitting there, she froze again.

At first glance, it was Fear, or so it seemed. But everything about him was wrong. His posture was exaggerated, twisted into an awkward slouch. His signature wide eyes were impossibly larger than usual, looking ridiculously cross-eyed. His thin arms flailed dramatically every few seconds for no apparent reason, and his mouth was caught in a bizarre frozen grin that stretched to cartoonish proportions.

For a few beats, Envy just stared, blinking as her mind tried to catch up. It was Fear, and yet it clearly wasn’t. This comedic caricature of him had been perfectly tailored to appeal to Envy’s sense of humour.

The silence broke as “Fear” performed an over-the-top gasp, clutching his chest with an exaggerated quiver and blurting out in a robotic sounding voice,

“Oh no! I must flee!” The absurdity of his voice, just slightly wrong but still recognisable as Fear, pushed Envy over the edge.

She burst into uncontrollable laughter, collapsing against the couch as giggles wracked her tiny body.

“Sh-Shame!” she choked out, unable to look directly at the illusion’s ridiculous face without doubling over again.

“What… is that?!”

The illusion-Fear stood from the sofa and did an overly dramatic bow, tipping an invisible hat while his face contorted into even more impossible expressions.

“Spooky ghost, you say? I simply cannot stay!” it wailed in a farcical tone, flailing as if running in slow motion.

Normally, an illusion like this would’ve unsettled her, but now, Envy could only marvel at Shame’s strangely playful creativity. She wiped tears of laughter from her cheeks, shaking her head in disbelief.

“If Fear could see this right now…” she muttered between giggles.

The illusion “Fear” froze mid-stride like a badly paused video, striking a hilariously awkward pose before slowly tipping over like a falling tree. Envy laughed even harder, clutching her stomach. She could feel the subtle shift of energy around her, as if Shame himself was satisfied with her reaction. The tipped-over “Fear” floated stupidly upright again, moving as though he were a glitched video game character loading back into his default stance. His movements twitched and jittered, resetting in bizarre ways that kept Envy’s giggles going. Then, with an exaggerated fluidity, he extended his noodle-like arms out towards her, hands held palms-up in an unspoken offering.

Envy’s laughter slowed, a curious look replacing it.

“What are you doing now?” she asked, sitting upright on the couch and cocking an eyebrow at the illusion.

Before she could answer her own question, a burst of golden sparks exploded from the “Fear” illusion’s palms, crackling and swirling as if someone had just lit fireworks in his hands. Envy flinched slightly, stunned by the sudden brightness. When the sparks subsided, a small, beautifully made cup of hot chocolate had materialised, complete with a couple of tiny marshmallows bobbing at the surface.

Her wide teal eyes grew even wider, pupils dilating with awe. Without even realising it, she whispered,

“No way.”

Reaching out with both her tiny hands, she gently took the cup, its perfect size fitting comfortably into her grasp. She brought it closer, relishing the warmth that contrasted with the coolness of the room.

Envy tilted her head, her lips curling into a playful smile.

“Shame,” she said, holding the mug up slightly,

“you sure know how to impress a girl.”

Strangely, her cheeks felt warmer now than they should’ve, given the temperature of the room or the hot chocolate in her hands. She brushed it off as nothing and sipped at the drink, humming contentedly as she tasted the rich, creamy flavor. Her suspicion was confirmed, Shame had remembered her fondness for hot chocolate from the last Dream Duty shift they had shared. The “Fear” illusion suddenly pulled a stool from seemingly nowhere, placing it directly in front of Envy with an exaggerated flourish. The movement was overly theatrical, like he was presenting a treasure chest in a grand performance. Envy laughed and set the mug down onto the stool.

“You’re such a gentleman,” she teased, glancing up at the frozen illusion.

“Fear” now seemed oddly stuck in his dramatic pause. Envy leaned back on the couch, crossing her arms and smirking at him with amusement. There was a stillness in the room as if a strange kind of staring contest had begun. She narrowed her eyes slightly.

“What?” she asked, though Shame’s illusion didn’t respond.

Then, without warning, “Fear” abruptly shrank, spiraling into a fast blur and flying around her head like a balloon losing air. High-pitched squeaking noises filled the air as it flew around. Envy could barely follow the movement, snickering at the sheer absurdity of it. Before she could recover, the deflated “Fear” smacked her in the face, sticking for just a moment before sliding down into her lap. She peeled it off, slightly dazed, and held it up in front of her to inspect it.

What she saw made her double over in laughter.

Printed directly onto the now-deflated balloon was the same utterly ridiculous, over-the-top facial expression that Shame had put onto the original “Fear” illusion.

“Shame,” Envy managed to gasp between giggles,

“Stop it! Just stop it, I’m gonna cry!”

She waved her hands in front of her face in a fanning motion.

The night unfolded in a spectacle of humour and light-hearted theatrics, Shame pulling out all the stops to keep Envy laughing. One illusion after another paraded through headquarters, each one more absurd than the last. A miniature troupe of juggling octopi appeared, their tentacles expertly tossing cupcakes through the air; a trio of floating tea kettles held a melodic debate in squeaky voices, pretending to spill “hot tea” about the boys in Riley’s class. Each time the comedy felt like it was settling, Shame upped the ante, presenting a gang of raccoons dressed as chefs who started wrestling each other in front of a massive soup pot. The fight climaxed when the slightly larger racoon used his chef’s hat to smother the smaller one from behind, using it as a sort of bag to cover its face as it struggled to breathe.

The sounds being made by the animals were diabolical.

Envy laughed so hard that tears gathered in her eyes, her giggles echoing through the quiet room.

“STOP IT! STOP IT!,” she managed between breaths, clutching her sides as the tiny raccoons had their spat broken up by the return of the warped “Fear” illusion, acting as an outlandishly stern referee of sorts.

After the antics had died down, Envy turned her attention back to Riley’s dream. It shifted into a bright, overly dramatic scene, Riley participating in a reality TV show. The scene was classic reality TV chaos: excessive confetti bursts, cheesy music, and over-the-top bickering. Riley dramatically confronted other contestants, posed in interviews with glitter backdrops, and accepted various mock “awards” with exaggerated flair.

Envy tilted her head at the dream as if she were sitting on a couch at home, reviewing it like a show critic.

“Okay, that comeback line was weak.” she quipped, her eyes following the dream’s developments with wry amusement.

“She said, ‘Go suck an egg.’ Like who actually says that in the real world?” she remarked, sipping her hot chocolate and gesturing at the absurd spectacle.

“Also, who am I supposed to hate? Every reality show needs a villain to hate.”

Right when Envy placed her hot chocolate back on the stool in front of her, the couch beneath her began to shift and change, its plush red surface rearranging like liquid fabric. Envy looked down, startled, until the entire couch transformed into a massive massage chair. Its seat and cushions vibrated in gentle, relaxing waves, reminiscent of Xy’s “special chair” but on an entirely new level. The new couch even expanded, providing plenty of room for Envy to sprawl out.

Her teal eyes lit up as she leaned back and stretched out, lying flat on her back. She let out a content sigh, savoring the sensation as her tiny body sunk deeper into the rhythmic vibrations.

“Ooohhh yeahhhh…” she said aloud.

“Am I in Heaven? I’m in Heaven right now, aren’t I, Shame?”

The soft hum of the chair complemented the warm mug she was drinking from. Somehow, despite the time passing, the hot chocolate stayed perfectly heated.

“I see we’re still magic about beverages,” she remarked with a playful grin, sitting up and sipping the last of it before setting the mug back on the stool that “Fear” had left.

As the chair worked its magic, another gust of cold air passed by, ruffling the edges of Envy’s hair. Without opening her eyes, she smirked.

“I still haven’t forgiven you.” she teased.

The gust came again, its subtle yet meaningful weight hinting at an unspoken reply:

“I don’t blame you.”

Envy’s lips quirked upward.

“Good. You’re not allowed to.” she said with faux defiance, although her voice softened at the end.

Her hands folded across her stomach as she gazed up at the dim lights of headquarters. It wasn’t long before her thoughts grew curious again. Tilting her head slightly, she asked into the empty air,

“Can I ask you something? Why me? You had plenty of other options. Xy spent the most time dealing with you, afterall. So why come to me?”

The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the dreamscape and the ever-present vibrations of the couch. There was no voice or visual cue, but Envy could feel Shame’s response as clearly as if it had been spoken aloud:

“Because you’re the one I hurt the most.”

Envy froze, her eyebrows lifting in surprise. She sat up a little, her warm cheeks now unmistakably tied to something beyond embarrassment or laughter. Turning her head, she glanced around, as if seeking some evidence of his physical presence.

“Is that so?” she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

Leaning back into the couch, she sighed again, the warmth in her cheeks becoming more pronounced. She wasn’t entirely sure why it was there. Was it gratitude? Embarrassment? Something more complicated? Whatever it was, she shrugged it off again, deciding to let Shame have his space.

Her teal eyes softened as she spoke gently to the air,

“Let’s say we…save that conversation for another day.”

For the first time since the Shame crisis, Envy found herself respecting him, albeit with boundaries still intact. Forgiveness would take time, but she couldn’t deny the gratitude stirring inside her. Something had shifted in her perspective, and though the road ahead felt uncertain, Envy found herself willing to explore it, one shared Dream Duty at a time.

The red sofa had returned to its usual form, and Envy lay sprawled out in her favorite prone position, her head resting comfortably on her tiny teal hands as she gazed at the backrest. She watched intently as the shadows danced upon the vivid backdrop. This time, the scene was different. Last time, it had been horses galloping across an imagined plain. Now, the figures were more delicate: two ballroom dancers, a male and a female, swaying elegantly in perfect synchronisation. Envy watched in silence, captivated by the way the figures glided across the surface of the red fabric. Each movement was precise, fluid, and mesmerising. Her eyes were especially drawn to the male dancer’s silhouette, his form radiating a confident yet gentle energy. He led his partner with grace, every step deliberate, every turn purposeful.

As Envy observed, her cheeks grew warm.

She frowned slightly at the sensation, puzzled by its persistence. She decided to shrug it off, allowing her gaze to drift across the shadows, her mind wandering.

She thought of Shame. His elusive presence filled the room, invisible yet undeniably there. Her attention returned to the shadowy male dancer, and an unexpected question flickered in her mind. If Shame ever chose to take a form, an actual, tangible, physical form to interact with her, what kind of form would he choose?

Her mind whirled with possibilities.

Would it choose the suited man from the day he saved Riley and everyone else? The one with the moonlike head?

Envy shuddered at the thought of that imposing figure.

Hopefully not that.

Envy wasn’t a fan of that look.

Too tall, far too tall…and creepy.

But would he stick to something eerie, befitting his ominous reputation? Or would he surprise her with something more approachable, even warm? Perhaps something humorous and exaggerated, to reflect its growing knack for entertaining her? She let out a soft giggle at the thought, though it trailed off as a more serious curiosity took over.

Then came the question of the entity’s voice.

Aside from the day it saved Riley, Shame so far, at least to Envy, had only communicated through sensations, illusions, and manipulations of sound. But if the entity were to speak to her directly, what would it sound like? Would the voice be low and resonant, tinged with the same mystery that always surrounded it? Or would it be something playful and expressive, tailored to match the whimsical performances it orchestrated for her amusement?

Would it be a male voice?

A female voice?

Or a different voice entirely.

Would he stick to that New York twang he used on the day he restored headquarters?

Envy was secretly curious to hear that voice again.

She started to wish she could change her voice at will like Shame could.

The thought brought a surprising shade of pink to her cheeks as she realised how much time she was devoting to the idea.

After another tiny, unconscious shrug, her gaze returned to the shadows, lingering on the male dancer.

A contented sigh escaped her lips. The warmth in her cheeks persisted, but she chose not to dwell on it further. Instead, she allowed herself to relax, watching the shadows swirl and sway. As the dancers twirled gracefully across their imagined ballroom, Envy wondered, with a faint smile, if Shame could sense the strange mixture of gratitude, curiosity, and amusement that stirred within her tonight. Envy shook her head briskly, as if physically brushing away the strange, warm feeling that had begun to nestle into her chest and cheeks. It was too odd, too unfamiliar to dwell on, and besides, she had Dream Duty to focus on. She let out a sharp exhale, her tiny teal fingers running through her hair shyly, before opening her mouth to ask Shame the next question that had been on her mind.

But before she could utter a word, a single glowing particle floated into view, weaving through the air with an effortless, playful charm.

Her eyes immediately lit up.

“You again.” she murmured, the corner of her mouth tugging upward.

The glowing particle swirled once around her head, making her giggle softly as it came close to her nose. She batted at it half-heartedly, the way one might tease a small moth. It was similar to the mischievous glowing particle trick Shame had used during the first Dream Duty shift they spent together, a simple but effective tool for grabbing her attention. And if she was honest, this particular trick was one of the ones that stood out most to her.

Her thoughts were drifting until the particle began drifting away, as if beckoning Envy to follow it.

“Hey, where d’you think you're going?” she said playfully.

She hopped off the sofa and followed the speck, her eyes trained on the glowing light as it left behind a faint golden shimmer, pulsing slightly as it traveled farther.

“Oh, no you don’t.” she said, grinning as she followed.

“Don’t think you’re sneaking off without me!”

The particle floated past one of the doors near the back of headquarters, disappearing beneath the gap. Envy hesitated at the threshold for only a moment before pushing the door open. The hallway stretched ahead of her, quiet and dimly lit, a place she usually avoided for how eerily empty it felt compared to the rest of HQ.

Still, curiosity pulled her forward. The glowing particle fluttered farther down the hallway until it reached an open doorway at the end.

“Where are we going?” Envy muttered to herself, her voice bouncing softly off the walls as she trailed behind.

“This better not be a prank…”

She didn’t finish the thought, instead letting the anticipation draw her toward the doorway. Once she stepped inside, an unfamiliar sight greeted her. Envy now found herself in what appeared to be a simulation of a cabin up in the American wilderness. The space was warm and quaint, with wooden surfaces and furniture everywhere. Faintly illuminating the room in muted hues was a fireplace. She tried to steal a glance outside the windows to see if she could identify where exactly she was. But the view was pitch black.

But what drew her attention most was the odd sight in the center of the cabin.

A brightly polished, red and black pedal car.

Envy blinked.

“What is that?”

The glowing particle spun in the air before landing delicately on the car’s steering wheel. It pulsed faintly, almost like a beckoning nod.

Envy squinted, stepping closer.

“You want me to… sit in it?”

She waited for a response from Shame, verbal or otherwise, but none came. She leaned down to inspect the car, her tiny fingers grazing the smooth, metallic frame.

“Well, it does look like it’s built for someone my size. And that colour scheme is FIRE.” she mused.

Straightening up, she glanced toward the ceiling, addressing Shame with mock sternness.

“But this begs the question, how old do you think I am? I know I’m small, but really?”

She should’ve known she wouldn’t get an answer to that question.

Huffing lightly, she climbed into the car and settled into the seat. To her surprise, it fit her perfectly, as though it had been custom-made for her. She placed her small feet on the pedals and rested her hands on the steering wheel.

“Okay,” she said, tilting her head upward again.

“Now what?”

At first, nothing happened. Silence stretched on, long enough that Envy began to doubt if the contraption would do anything at all. Then, with no warning, the pedal car lurched forward, causing her to squeal in surprise. The cabin around her began to blur, colours smearing together in a dazzling display as if someone had swirled paint across a canvas. Envy barely registered the shifting scenery before the pedal car transformed beneath her. The once-simple vehicle expanded and morphed, the frame stretching and reshaping into a massive Formula One race car. Her seat adjusted automatically, the interior of the car shrinking until it fit her comfortably. That same red and black streaked along the car’s sleek surface, and a helmet appeared atop her head, a vibrant yellow that contrasted sharply with her teal complexion.

“WHAT IN THE WORLD?!” Envy exclaimed, gripping the wheel as the engine roared to life.

Before she knew it, Her surroundings solidified into a high-speed racetrack. The crowd roared in excitement as she sped forward, colourful flags waving from the stands and fireworks exploding in the night sky. Envy let out an excited laugh as the car surged ahead, the tires gripping the track with exhilarating force. She leaned into the turns, feeling a sense of speed unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. Loud, adrenaline-pumping music filled the dreamscape, a powerful, upbeat version of another classic song Mom and Dad used to play in the car.

“I fell into a burning ring of fire,
I went down, down, down, and the flames went higher,
And it burns, burns, burns, the ring of fire, the ring of fire.”

The fiery beat and iconic lyrics matched the pulse of energy coursing through Envy as she pressed the gas, her tiny hands steering with remarkable precision.

“THIS IS AMAZING! RAHHHH!” she shouted, her voice tinged with awe.

The illusion was stunningly vivid, every detail from the faint smell of burning rubber to the flashing lights of the scoreboard perfectly orchestrated. She could tell that Shame had taken inspiration directly from Riley’s dream of racing, just like he did on the last Dream Duty shift. Speeding around the racetrack, she let herself become completely immersed in the illusion. The rush of wind against her face, the deafening cheers of the crowd, the vibrations of the car beneath her, the music, it was all so alive, so exhilarating.

“Shame, you’re spoiling me now, YOU’RE SPOILING ME!” she shouted out, though she didn’t expect a reply.

As she passed other race cars on the track, she couldn’t resist striking a playful pose in her seat, her teal hair peeking from under the helmet.

“Fight me, losers! FIGHT ME!!!” she quipped, laughing to herself as if Riley were laughing with her in the dream.

The race continued with high energy, the music blasting as Envy poured herself fully into the adrenaline-pumped experience.

“I fell into a burning ring of fire,
I went down, down, down, and the flames went higher,
And it burns, burns, burns, the ring of fire, the ring of fire.
And it burns, burns, burns, the ring of fire, the ring of fire, the ring of fire…
The ring of fire…the ring of fire…”

*******

As the days passed, Envy found herself eagerly anticipating her Dream Duty shifts in a way she never had before. It was no longer just about watching Riley’s dreams unfold and ensuring they stayed pleasant or productive; it was about what, or who would come after. For weeks, without fail, every time she settled in for her shift, Shame would appear.

His arrival was never marked by words but rather his trademark subtlety.

A cold gust of wind, a smudge of black ink, a flicker of shadows, or a playful floating particle zipping past her nose. Envy would always acknowledge his presence with a quip or a teasing smile, and Shame, without a spoken word, would find ways to respond in kind.

Their nights together began to develop a rhythm. They’d start by watching Riley’s dreams, bantering over the scenes as if they were sharing commentary on a movie. Whether it was a wild adventure, an absurdly funny scenario, or even an embarrassing moment for Riley, Envy always had something to say, and Shame would reply with his own brand of silent humour, visual gags, quirky illusions, or playful nudges that left her giggling more often than not.

“You’ve got quite the sense of humour for someone so… silent,” Envy remarked one night as an illusion of a crying Sadness comically rolled around in a puddle of tears.

The room might as well have winked back at her as the illusion transformed into an abstract cluster of blue paint blobs that floated around the control room in an artistic display.

Shame’s surprises didn’t stop at entertaining illusions. Without fail, he would find some way to show kindness toward her. One night it was another cup of hot chocolate, delivered through a spectacle of sparks and a rabbit popping out of a top hat. Another time, it was a cozy blanket, impossibly soft and in her favorite shade of teal, draped over her shoulders as the dream they were watching shifted into a wintery snowball fight.

“Is there no bottom to your spoiling?” Envy teased as she tucked the blanket around herself.

No answer came, just another gentle swirl of wind, as if he were pleased with himself.

But what Envy found herself looking forward to the most were Shame’s grand, nightly illusions. These were entirely different from his subtle acts of humour or comfort. Each night, toward the end of Dream Duty, he would wordlessly invite her into a world he’d crafted just for her, just like with the ice skating rink on the first night and the racetrack on the second.

And each time, it was something completely new, designed to surprise and delight her.

One night, it was a breathtaking underwater adventure where she floated through coral reefs teeming with radiant, dreamlike creatures. Envy marveled at the glowing jellyfish and darting schools of colourful fish, each of them moving as if they had thoughts of their own.

“This… this is amazing…” she whispered, spinning gently in the ethereal water.

Another night, Shame whisked her into a magical forest, with enormous trees lit from within by fireflies. She strolled through it, her hand brushing against soft, glowing leaves. It felt more like being inside a fairytale than a dream, and it left her smiling long after the illusion had faded.

Other nights were pure adrenaline rushes, much like the Formula One experience. There was a wild rollercoaster ride that twisted and turned through a dazzling neon cityscape. Finally a rollercoaster she could ride. Then there was a flight on the back of a massive orange dragon through a soaring mountain range. These exhilarating creations left her heart pounding, her laughter echoing in the dreamlike spaces.

“Show-off!” she called once, as the dragon executed an elaborate barrel roll.

Still, not every illusion was a thrill ride. Some were calm and introspective, walks through serene meadows under starlit skies, relaxing boat rides down crystal-clear rivers of pink water, or even quiet afternoons spent in a sunlit glade. On those nights, Envy felt a different kind of connection with Shame, one that left her reflecting on him long after her shift was over.

Despite all the laughter and wonder he brought to her nights, there was a weight to their interactions, a lingering reminder of the past that Envy couldn’t quite shake. She had yet to forgive him fully for what he had done during the crisis, but she was starting to see him in a new light. Shame was different now, or at least he seemed to be. There was a genuine effort in the way he treated her, a quiet determination to make things right without forcing the matter or rushing her feelings.

And though she couldn’t yet voice it, a connection was undeniably forming between them. She felt it every time she entered one of his illusions, crafted with such care and detail. She felt it in the way he watched over her, offering silent kindness when she least expected it. Most of all, she felt it in the moments of stillness between the grand gestures, in the way his presence lingered around her like a gentle embrace, steady and unspoken. Even though he never used any sort of voice, not once in their time together, Envy found herself understanding him more clearly than she ever thought possible. His silence spoke volumes, whether through the way he built worlds for her or the quiet gust of wind that brushed against her shoulder. And when she smiled or laughed at his antics, she imagined he could feel the softening in her heart, even if she wasn’t ready to admit it out loud.

One night, as an illusion faded and she returned to the dim light of headquarters, Envy lingered in the quiet. She wrapped herself in the teal blanket he had given her before and glanced toward the shadows at the edge of the room.

“I still haven’t forgiven you.” she would say every shift.

Sometimes softly, sometimes teasingly and sometimes with a shake of her head.

She wasn’t expecting a response, but the familiar cold breeze drifted past her, carrying with it the faintest suggestion of his presence. To her, it felt like agreement.

She sighed, rolling her eyes, though a tiny smile tugged at her lips.

“You’re so stubborn. You’re not gonna stop showing up are you? Is this your brand new routine? To show up and bug me everytime I’m on shift?”

No reply, just another swirl of playful wind.

As the sun began to rise and Riley stirred awake, Envy’s thoughts lingered on Shame. He or she was becoming something more than a figure of regret or an entity to blame. It was becoming a companion, something she was warming to, even if she wasn’t quite ready to say it yet.

A friend.