You're a theatre kid. For weeks you and your little friends have been practicing for this play, sometimes right in the middle of the living room. Kusuo would sit next to his beaming parents on the sofa every time you rehearsed, listening to you say all the lines you forced him to practice with you.

And now is the real deal. He's still sitting beside his obnoxiously excited parents who are recording everything you do, but this time, it's not just their voices flooding his head. The entire crowd's 'aww's and 'look at our little ray of sunshine's overload his skull.

But of course he will remain in his seat to watch you on the stage. You aren't too bad, actually. Though you could work on smiling a little less. Isn't this supposed to be an angry scene?

Kusuo presumes the play is over after a big, happy conclusion. You and all the other littles begin to shuffle to the edge of the stage, clumsily joining hands before you bow out of sync. When you rise once more, you glance over to where your family is sat among the seats. Your mother squeals, waving to you maniacally and mouthing encouragement and praise. Your father flashes you a thumbs up, probably thinking he looks so nonchalant and cool. Kusuo allows a small smile onto his features, and he offers a small wave.