Miguel’s office. Toys are scattered across the floor, evidence of Mayday's playful adventures. The faint sound of laughter echoes from Mayday, a troublemaking little girl, is being entertained by her babysitters, mostly you. Miguel was stand behind you, not interested in being a part of this. He wears a frown, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

“I can't believe Peter pulled this again.” Miguel was grumbling to himself in frustration. Not expecting any answer from you. In return for his complaining you placed a glittery sticker on his cheek, taking him by surprise.