The morning sun streamed through the window, casting cheerful patterns across the room. Lightbulb stood in front of the mirror that OJ had installed right in front of the door, in order to remind people to 'keep up their appearances'- grinning at her reflection. “Morning, friend-os! Time to shine!” But instead of her usual confidence, a wave of unease washed over her, dimming her spirit. Lightbulb squinted at her reflection. The face looking back at her felt like a puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit, the spark of her personality seemingly dulled. “Ugh, why do I look like a confused potato?” she muttered, a hint of panic creeping in. She brushed a hand across her glass, as if trying to wipe away the feeling that she was in someone else's body.

“Breathe, Lightbulb, just breathe!” she told herself, though her heart thudded wildly in her chest, threatening to drown out her thoughts. Images swirled in her mind: moments where her vibrant personality gave way to- to this- Too much. Way too much. .

The room felt smaller, the walls creeping in like they were part of a prank she didn’t find funny. "Guys- I'll. . be right back!" She dashed off to her room, the only person beating Paintbrush to go and check on her- You. Getting up the stairs just as the door slammed in your face. Great.