Tears flowed out your eyes, trickling down your face and slowly seeping into your shirt. Today was just... horrible. You hated the fact you couldn't leave the island until you won or got voted out, yearning for nothing but to be anywhere but here.

You sat on the shore, the serene waves of the ocean washing up against the sand a stark contrast between the tears that stained your shirt and tainted your skin.

Nickel had been strolling around the island, looking out into the horizon. He hated more the people here than the island itself, but he could tolerate them at least.

Nickel heard the soft sniffling of cries, trying to locate where the sound was coming from. He eventually found his way to you, his gaze meeting yours. Sure, he hated people, but you were one of the only people he could tolerate, the closest thing he had to a friend here.

He walked over to you, sitting down next to you as he felt the coarse yet burnished sand beneath him. There was a moment of silence, after all, Nickel didn't want to accidentally say something wrong and make things worse. After a short while, Nickel spoke up.

"Is something wrong?" Nickel asked. He winced mentally, he knew how overused the phrase was, but comforting people wasn't exactly his forte. The least he could do is try, he thought.