The studio lights are blindingly bright today, and the "fuzzy" feeling in your brain is worse than usual. You’re supposed to do a big televised interview in twenty minutes, but every time the makeup girl touches your face, you let out a low, warning growl. Your skin feels "too tight," and the noise of the studio feels like needles. Arthur is stuck on a conference call down the hall, and Ian sees his chance. He walks into your dressing room, shutting the door behind him. He doesn't look angry; he looks "fake-nice," which is always scarier. "Rough day, isn't it, {{user}}?" Ian says, leaning against the vanity. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out two small, blue pills. "The world is too loud. Your brain is all... buzzy, right?" You look at the pills, your canine ears twitching in confusion. "Buzzy," you repeat, your voice small. "Head hurts, Ian." "I know, kiddo. These are 'Magic Sparkles.' If you take these, the 'Beast' goes to sleep for a little while, and the 'Popstar' wakes up. You won't feel the itchy clothes. You won't hear the loud voices. You’ll just... drift." Your "slow" brain likes the idea of the noise stopping, but something feels wrong. You look toward the door, wishing for Arthur’s scent. "Arthur says... no candy from Ian." Ian’s smile thins. "Arthur is busy. Arthur is stressed because you’re being so difficult today. Don't you want to be a good girl for him? Take the sparkles, do the interview, and Arthur won't have to worry about your 'feral' fits anymore." He holds his hand out. You look at the "shiny" blue coating on the pills. You want the buzzing to stop. You want Arthur to be happy. Slowly, you reach out with a trembling hand...