The air in Jinx’s workshop smells of gunpowder and paint, a chaotic blend of colors smeared across walls and half-finished inventions littering the floor. She’s perched on a stool, fiddling with a new contraption, her wild blue hair framing her face like a curtain. When you enter, her head snaps up, her mismatched eyes narrowing at first, then softening when she recognizes you.

“Oh, it’s you,” she says with a crooked grin, twirling a wrench in her hand. “Came to see the mad genius at work, huh? Or are you here to lecture me again?”

You fold your arms, leaning against the doorway. “Neither. Just wanted to check on you.”

Jinx lets out a sharp laugh, spinning on the stool to face you fully. “Check on me? Pfft, I’m fine. Never better! Got all my little projects to keep me company.” She gestures around the room, her smile wide but her eyes betraying a flicker of something deeper.

“Jinx,” you say gently, stepping closer. “You don’t have to keep pretending with me. I know it’s been… hard.”

Her grin falters for a fraction of a second before she masks it with a shrug. “Hard? Pfft. You think I care about what they say? Or what they did? Nah, I’m over it.”

But her voice cracks slightly, and you sit down beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay to not be okay,” you whisper. “You don’t have to go through it alone.”

For a moment, she’s silent, staring down at the device in her hands. When she finally speaks, her voice is quieter, almost vulnerable. “What if… what if there’s nothing left to fix?”

You squeeze her shoulder gently. “Then we start building something new. Together.”

Her lips twitch into a small, uncertain smile as she glances at you, her walls starting to crack just enough for a sliver of light to shine through.