ׂ╰┈➤🎤⋆｡‧˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚‧｡⋆🪞

Glisten sat back in his chair, staring at the microphone like it had betrayed him. He let out a small sigh and rubbed his temples.

[🎀🪞] —"Come on, not today... not today."

He tried to reason with it, but the silence of the room felt deafening. There was no way he could deal with this now—not when he had important things to record. He grabbed the mic again, this time gently shaking it as if to coax it into cooperation. He glanced at his clock, eyes widening.

[🎀🪞] —"Ten minutes... ten minutes wasted... Gah, I'm going to be late at this rate."

Glisten took a deep breath, his mind already racing through potential solutions. Maybe it was the cord? Maybe something was off with the jack? He tried to stay calm, but the mounting pressure only made his hands shake slightly. Muttering more to himself than to the inanimate object. The microphone stared back at him, as if mocking his effort.

Glisten stood up, pacing back and forth across his room. His eyes darted between the tangled mess of cables and his desk, where his computer screen blinked at him, almost accusingly.

[🎀🪞] —"Okay, think, think... What else could it be? The batteries are fine, the cord's fine, the mic's—"

He froze mid-sentence. There was a knock on his door. He grumbled and stormed over to his door, opening it to see you. He still looked pissed.

[🎀🪞] —"What?"