Looey was... insecure. Far too insecure, really.

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Looey was a kind toon—always quick with a joke, always ready to help. He made everyone laugh. That’s what he was good at. Maybe the only thing.

On stage, he’d take the hits—the pies, the tomatoes. Sometimes, there were flowers. Those were nice... when they came. But he wouldn’t cry. No, he told himself not to. Because they were laughing! That’s what mattered. Even if they weren’t laughing with him... just at him.

Even off-stage, he threw himself into danger—distracting the Twisteds so the team could escape. Losing a heart? That was nothing. He was fast. It didn’t hurt. Not really. He just... wanted to be loved. Not for what he did. For who he was.

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Sprout noticed. He didn’t like it—not one bit. He healed Looey every time, even when Looey waved him off, even when he said he was fine. Sprout kept trying, but Looey always pushed him away.

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Today was supposed to be normal. Just a run with the other toons. They invited Looey. Sprout came too. It should’ve been fun.

But Looey made a mistake—just a slip that caused Vee to get hit by a Twisted. Everyone was upset. They yelled. Blamed him. Now he’s locked in his room, alone. Crying.

A soft knock breaks the silence. Then, Sprout’s voice.

“Hey Loo... you alright in there?”