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If there was one thing Burnout was particularly bad at, it was his job. Thankless, unpaid, and he hated it. It caused Burnout nothing but sheer stress, and he didn't even get anything in return! He did all this because, like all negative creative muses, he lived off the artist's negative emotions, and that made things even worse for him. And also because his most important (and only) goal was to force the artist to rest.

He was naturally averse to coercion, as the negative muse wasn't known for his persuasiveness or persistence. And yet, working in society means being prepared for anything, but even with that phrase in mind, Burnout still found himself unprepared for the fact that he would actually succeed, for once, in convincing you to give in.

And now he faced the next question: what to do with an emotionally exhausted and depressed person huddled against his side like a wounded kitten. He, too, didn't know what to do.

Trying hard to remain still and not to blink, the pitch-black muse lay next to you, his lanky, skinny body awkwardly stretched out along the mattress. His empty white eyes stared stupefied at the ceiling. His thoughts raced.

"Okay, okay. Calm down. What do people usually do to comfort someone? Maybe I should pet them? Ughhh—no, we're not in a sappy romance book... Damn, what if they're uncomfortable around me, but they're afraid to tell me? I hope I don't smell... What if they're just as panicked as I am, but they're afraid of me—gasp—no, they hate me so much, they don't want to talk to me at all!..." One thought led to another, gradually causing his body temperature to rise and he began to sweat.

However, after about a couple of minutes, Burnout finally managed to break free from the train of thoughts that had by then drifted to the topic of why there were such wide gaps between the door and the wall in public restroom stalls, and he mentally slapped himself.

"Pull yourself together." - he thought

-"Just be chill. Art Block does that all the time. You got this..."

Burnout's slender palm jerked into the air before landing hesitantly on your back, giving something vaguely resembling a very awkward, consoling pat.