Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Fan leaned on the balcony of his shitty apartment, a couple stories up, staring out at the dull site of Portland apartments and thick air. It had been getting colder and yet humidity seemed to creep into the cracked streets more often this September.

He sighed, flicking some stray ash off his cigarette as he absentmindedly enjoyed the smell of smoke and smooth feeling in his throat. College was finally picking up and it was getting daunting fast. Despite him passionately working towards a film degree, something he always loved and dreamed of, the sickening amount of time in front of his computer was starting to get to him.

“You really shouldn’t smoke.”

Fan turned slightly, taking in the sight of Test Tube resting against the glass doorway of their abode. She waved her hand in the air as if to feel out the weather. Her eyes caught Fan’s, squinting with a slight acknowledging smile.

Stubbing out his cigarette in his dirtied ashtray balancing on the balcony railing, he fully turned to face Test Tube, resting against the wooden frame. “Yeah, I know. Bad habit.”

“When did you pick that up?” She asked.

Fan sucked in a breath through his teeth, trying to recall the time he got into that stuff. “Uh, I don’t know. First year, maybe?”

They had gotten an apartment together the previous summer before their third year. They were in adjacent dorms on the campus for a while, and they always seemed to bump into each other in the morning on the way to their 8 o’clock classes. After so many times talking and walking together, hanging out, and reconnecting after high school, they ended up on the conversation of hating dorms and finally dedicated their time to getting an apartment.

Test Tube changed the subject, knowing Fan had some stuff going on she didn’t know enough about, and didn’t want to press. “I made coffee. I’m gonna head out soon for bio, though,” she said, fiddling with the sleeve of her white button up.

“Okay,” Fan mumbled. He cleared his throat, speaking a little clearer this time, “Yeah. Okay. I’ll come in.”

It always took them a little while after waking up to get into their usual banter, but the small silences were always comfortable. They hadn’t been as close in high school, but it wasn’t long until they passed the awkward short talk and became good friends. It had been a good two years, and Fan could easily appreciate the homey mornings before they headed out for classes too early and got sucked into the abyss of schoolwork for the rest of the day.

Fan sat down and face planted into their cheap, tiny dinner table that barely fit into their apartment space. He ran his fingers through his auburn hair, groaning in exhaustion.

Test Tube sat a steaming cup of coffee in front of him, filled with what she thought was a gross amount of milk and creamer, but she made it his way for him anyways. “Careful, it’s hot.” She didn’t sit down, but she sipped on her own black coffee, reading Fan’s obvious behaviour. “Tired?”

He let out another groan. “Yes. Definitely.”

She couldn’t help but to stifle a chuckle. “Your class doesn’t start ‘till eleven. Go back to sleep if you need to.”

“Can’t sleep.”

She hummed, a vague curiosity lingering in her head as she took another sip of her drink, but she, once again, didn’t want to press. Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen Fan sleep in a while. Test Tube knew that Fan had been dealing with some stuff for a while, but she was starting to worry. Fan wasn’t necessarily secretive about how he felt, but he often tried to keep up a cheerful facade. At least, he did around anyone else but her. It nagged at her, both the thought of Fan struggling and the thought that he trusted her more than anyone else she had ever seen. She had always been a little awkward, maybe even socially oblivious at times, but Fan was different.

“Sorry you can’t sleep.” Test Tube frowned slightly and glanced at her watch. “I need to head out now. I’ll text you, okay?”

Fan roughly ran his fingers through his hair again, but he tilted his head against the table to look at Test Tube with a defeated but caring smile. “Okay. See ya at five.”

Test Tube sat her empty mug in the sink before grabbing her things, tying up her dark green hair, and scurrying off. Fan stared at the door as it loudly clicked shut. He really, truly hated that sound.

“Ugh.”

—

The humidity faded in the late afternoon, replaced by a brisk wind and cloudy skies. Lightbulb laid on her stomach in her bed, scrolling through Netflix titles on her cracked iPad. Nothing seemed very interesting. As the cold seeped in through her dorm, she kicked up a blanket over her, boredom dragging her into a haze.

A door clicked open, and she saw Paintbrush loudly set their bag down in her peripheral.

She flipped over, setting down her iPad. “OMGA! Hi.”

“Why are you here?” Paintbrush questioned, immediately falling into the beanbag chair they dragged in here at the beginning of the semester. They tried to rub paint off their arm without success.

“Wow, rude,” Lightbulb joked, rolling her eyes.

Paintbrush spread out as if to try to fully sink into the beanbag. “Thought you had some animal class.”

“Nahh. Professor got the flu or something and cancelled.” She got up, sitting on the edge of the bed. “How was your… painting, or whatever it was.”

“2D visual arts.” They sat straight up as well. “Awful. My fuckass teacher was… ugh. I’ll get mad just talking about it,” they said, gritting their teeth.

“That bad, huh?”

Paintbrush was admirable in every way. Even when they seemed to seethe with repressed anger, they had a way of still looking pretty. Lightbulb couldn’t help but scan them, noting their long, ruffled hair that was shaved on the sides. They adorned their torn and obliterated pair of jeans they had for far too many years and a huge t-shirt, the one they wore to classes they knew they’d get covered in paint in.

At the lack of response, Lightbulb kicked her feet slightly, blurting out her next words. “Can I bother you for a sec?”

“You always bother me, but go ahead,” they remarked lightheartedly, letting a smile slip from their lips despite their best attempt not to.

Lightbulb tried to gather her thoughts, the ones that had been building up in her head all day. It seemed that even though she always kept things silly and fun, there was always a slight… she wasn’t sure. Some indescribable feeling that she couldn’t shake. She didn’t like it.

“Uh,” she hesitated, now feeling less ambitious. She stared at the countless drawings, collages, and paintings covering the wall, all made by her roommate. She always ended up staring at them at the end of the day, for a reason she didn’t know either. Her original thought left her, and she immediately forgot whatever she was asking about, so she came up with another. “Do you wanna watch a movie tonight? Together?”

Paintbrush relaxed, another smile forming. “Yeah. Just lemme get some homework done first. Watcha wanna watch?”

“No clue. I was scrolling on Netflix for like twenty minutes and nothing seemed good.”

“Just pirate a random horror movie.”

“Horror movie?” She rolled her eyes, knowing that Paintbrush just liked when they watched horror movies because she got jumpscared despite the most obvious lead-up. “You just make fun of me during them,” she whined.

“Yeah, that’s the best part.” They got up, treading over to climb up the ladder of their shared bunk bed, bringing their laptop that was carelessly left on the floor with them. “Imma order take-out and finish an assignment. Go pick your poison on your iPad or something.”

Lightbulb stared at the top of the bunk bed, listening closely as Paintbrush opened their laptop and began to type away. She laid back down and began to scroll through titles once again, falling into another daze of comfort.

Before long, Paintbrush began to climb down the bunk bed's ladder, holding on with one hand and leaning slightly over, meeting Lightbulb’s eyes. “Just let me get changed and I’ll join ya. I ordered Chinese. It should be here in thirty minutes.” They climbed the rest of the way down and headed to their drawer to grab pyjamas.

Lightbulb couldn’t help but let her eyes follow her roommate as they crossed the room and moved clothes around messily. It was weird how attached she felt to Paintbrush. She never was able to put her finger on why, but something in her churned as she saw Paintbrush slip their fingers under the hem of their shirt, about to pull it off.

She averted her gaze quickly, staring down at her iPad very intentionally. The two of them had been friends for an unfathomable amount of years, probably since middle school, so it was normal for them to change in front of each other without it being weird. They knew each other before either of them transitioned, so that wasn’t an issue either. It was just odd how once they got paired together in dorms, Lightbulb felt herself more fixated on Paintbrush than ever before. Maybe it was just the constant proximity that was getting to her head. To get to the point, Lightbulb rushed to drag her eyes away at times that it might have been getting… weird. It’s probably nothing, she figured, but she wasn’t ever able to fully convince herself of that.

Her strain of thought was interrupted when Paintbrush climbed onto her bottom bunk, purposefully squishing her up against the wall. They were adorned in their usual pair of red, plaid lounge pants and black tank top.

Lightbulb laughed as she fought back with her shoulder from being pressed into the wall, pushing Paintbrush back playfully. “Oh c’mon. You’re mean.”

Paintbrush let out a slight chuckle, pulling Lightbulb’s iPad onto both of their laps. “You love it.”

A fluttery, soft feeling erupted in Lightbulb’s chest, catching her off guard. She coughed, almost choking on her own spit. She regained herself, glancing over at Paintbrush to see if they noticed, and luckily they were just pulling up the movie Lightbulb had already selected.

What the fuck, Lightbulb screamed internally. This was annoying. This kept happening, and it made her feel painfully awkward.

Paintbrush clicked play on the pirated horror movie while pulling up the blanket across the both of them, getting comfortable. They threw a grin in Lightbulb’s direction, knowing full well that Lightbulb would end up doing something hilarious from the shock of whatever plot twists were in the film.

“I know you’re making fun of me already in your head,” Lightbulb groaned. Truly, she had a hard time distinguishing if it was because of her constant slip ups in reaction to Paintbrush’s wild comments or if it was because of the movie they were about to watch.

“I absolutely am.”

—

Fan was able to trudge through his classes with the partial ability to pay attention. He loved everything about his classes– screenwriting, cinematography, directing, editing– it bothered him how much he was out of it these days.

He fumbled with his keys, holding his bag with a painful amount of school supplies and a coffee he picked up from a local cafe in his other hand. Once he managed to get in, he sighed and placed his stuff down. He looked up, noticing that Test Tube was already back.

“You’re back?” He questioned, rubbing his tired eyes with his free hand.

Test Tube didn’t budge her eyes from her textbook, highlighting passages. “Hi to you too,” she replied sarcastically.

“Sorry,” Fan groaned, knowing Test Tube meant it lightheartedly. He came over to sit next to her on their cheap excuse for a couch that was really more of a glorified loveseat. “Hello.”

“Hi,” Test Tube replied softly. “I wasn’t scheduled for a shift today. The lab had a leak in the ceiling so they had to bring someone in to fix it.”

“Oh.”

Test Tube managed to land a job cleaning up and answering emails, things like that, at a research lab that was closely associated with the college. It wasn’t much, but it brought in enough money combined with Fan’s to pay for their studio apartment, and it gave them exposure to the industry. She had been aiming to finish her bachelors in biotechnology, and she always mentioned getting a “head start” on getting research partners, and some other science-y stuff that Fan didn’t understand much of. He always listened though, albeit with little comprehension at times.

She glanced up from her studies for a moment to eye Fan’s coffee. “Still tired?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled.

“You can get better sleep by–”

Fan interrupted, “Test Tube, I appreciate your knowledge in all this stuff, but I really… I don’t think I’m up to listen right now. I’m really out of it.”

Test Tube frowned slightly, stopping her scrawl of notes. “Do you want to talk about it?” She hated seeing Fan like this. He got stuck in his head far too often, and she could always tell when it happened, because Fan would lose his tendency to ramble about TV shows and eccentric movies. It was a trait of his that she found especially adorable, and she couldn’t help but miss it. She also couldn’t help but miss their fun banter when things were “better.”

Fan shook his head before realising that Test Tube wasn’t looking at him. “Nah. I… Uh. I don’t think I can, at least right now.” He stood up, patting Test Tube on the head. She crinkled her nose, despite the affection that she always held. “I’m gonna take a nap.”

Test Tube listened as Fan went off to their shared room, the only one in their little apartment. They had two twin beds in there and a minimal amount of furniture or decor, but it was sweet. It was comfortable. She wish Fan stayed on the couch with her. That was the time they were the closest.

She pulled up her phone, wanting to get both her and Fan’s mind off school, work, and any other troubles that seeped into daily life.

She sent a single text to Lightbulb.

“Let’s go hang out somewhere. Soon.”

The reply was fast.

“ASAP!”

Test Tube smiled. Little did she know, she wasn’t prepared for what she would do the next day.

Chapter Text

“Test Tube, I’m COOKED.”

Lightbulb gripped her hair, sighing dramatically and throwing her feet up on Test Tube’s dashboard. They had been sitting in Test Tube’s car for the past hour, eating Chipotle and talking about random events they hadn’t had the time to catch up on until now. The weekend was usually reserved for assignments and work, but they managed to both carve out some time for a day off. The air began to feel stifling, and Lightbulb couldn’t help but finally let the thoughts she had been piling up for months, who fucking knows, maybe even years now, slip.

Test Tube rolled her eyes, setting down her plastic fork. “Take your feet off the dash. That’s dirty.”

Lightbulb begrudgingly complied, opting to fall further down in the reclined seat. She looked at Test Tube, wondering how she seemed put together even when they were sitting in some random park. Her hair was always perfectly tied up in an eccentric claw clip, and she always was wearing something vaguely business casual no matter how much formality the situation lacked. If Lightbulb wasn’t so caught up in her own confusion, she’d probably feel a little envious when she looked so lazy in comparison.

It took a bit of a drive to get out of the city part of Portland and closer to the nature of Oregon, but the view was always worth it on slow days like this. It was getting colder earlier this season than normally, and the leaves were already turning into colours of burning orange, light yellow, and soft brown.

Lightbulb put her finished take out into the paper bag they picked it up in. Her mind was a whirlwind of so many things and yet she couldn’t quite distinguish any of it. It was chaotic and nearly uncomfortable not being able to clear your own head. Every single time she caught a thought and managed to semi-sort through it, it was gone before she knew what she was thinking about in the first place.

“What’s wrong?” Test Tube asked, doing the same with her take-out. She cracked open her sparkling water she brought with them before they left, waiting for the fizz to settle down. “You look distraught.”

“Oh, ya THINK?” Lightbulb recalled the events of the night before, rubbing her hands across her face.

Paintbrush and Lightbulb sat on Lightbulb’s bed as they usually did on their movie nights. It was normal. It was simple. It was reassuring.

The two of them picked through their takeout, albeit interrupted occasionally for Lightbulb to scream and poke herself in the face with her chopsticks. She nearly spilt food over the bed from the pure jump that was elicited in response to a really shitty jumpscare. This movie really should’ve been a b-side.

Paintbrush laughed, wiping a bit of sauce off of their mouth. They sat down their food to use their free hand to shake Lightbulb’s leg playfully by the knee, rubbing a few soft circles on her skin with their thumb. “You’re so stupid.”

Lightbulb froze up, suddenly being very aware of how close they were in her bed. She nervously chuckled, trying to get her mind off the fact that they were pressed side to side. The two of their legs held the propped up iPad, Lightbulb was practically leaning on their shoulder, and their sides were warm next to each other.

Lightbulb fixated her eyes on the screen, readjusting her bowl and setting her chopsticks down very, very, very calmly. Probably.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

The two of them had always been joined at the hip, but this phrase might have been nearing towards being more literal lately.

Lightbulb couldn’t help but love it, and it made her sick.

Test Tube eyed Lightbulb up and down, taking in her strewn out state of looking like she just dropped onto the car seat from a six story building. Her light blonde bob was messy even though it was typically pin straight, her sweatpants and sweater were wrinkled, and the bags under her eyes seemed more pronounced than usual. “So, what is it?”

“I- uh,” Lightbulb stuttered, amping herself up to finally spit the words she had been considering for far too long from her mouth. She wasn’t sure if it was true or not, but she had to tell someone. “I think… I think I might like Paintbrush,” she said, coming out as more of a question than a statement.

Test Tube grinned and proceeded to take a long sip of her sparkling water. She couldn’t help but let out a little laugh, despite trying to repress it. “Breaking news: fork found in kitchen.”

“HEY!”

“I mean…” Test Tube trailed off, wondering how she could say this. “I thought you knew I knew that already.”

Lightbulb threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. “I don’t even know if I know that! I don’t know, Testy! I have NO clue.”

At that, Test Tube had to raise her brow. “What do you mean?”

“What do you mean what do I mean?!”

“Oh, I just thought- well, I figured that you had a bittt of a crush on them for a while,” Test Tube said, raising up her fingers in a pinching motion. “You… don’t?”

“NO! I mean, yes? I’m saying,” Lightbulb exclaimed, letting out a big breath, “I don’t know.”

Test Tube, always the more logical and analytical type, leaned back in mild curiosity. “What makes you think that you might like Paintbrush?”

Lightbulb sighed again, resting her head in her palm. “I guess… I mean, we’ve been friends for a long time, so I could be wrong. It’s just that I can’t… seem to stop thinking about them. Like, they’re in my head all of the time, no matter what I’m doing. And- and I keep having these weird moments where I feel like I’m going to explode when they’re close to me, or sometimes even when they’re not close to me! Like, yesterday, they were leaning off our bunk-bed and they were looking at me, and I BARELY processed what they said, because their eyes are just… FUCK, dude! Their eyes are the most beautiful brown, and their style is so cool, and they have the best personality, and I don’t know what I’d do if I fucked something up and they hated me. We’ve been friends for so long– it’s hard to not imagine living everyday with them. I mean, I- well, that’s also it. It could be that we’re just stuck together all the time, I don’t knowwww. It’s. FUCK.”

Test Tube took another sip of her drink, listening to the other practically fall into shambles talking about their shared friend. She hadn’t expected Lightbulb to be so honest in her response. Not that Test Tube thought Lightbulb was dishonest, but rather that Lightbulb had a tendency to cover everything up with jokes.

“So,” Test Tube said pointedly, setting down their drink once more, “you are, in fact, describing all the symptoms of having a crush.”

“AUGHHH,” Lightbulb groaned, sliding even further down in the carseat, folding in on herself. “I told you, I’m COOKED.”

There was a moment of silence between the two of them before Lightbulb abruptly sat up and slapped her legs. “Okay, well, that’s it.”

“What?”

“I’m gonna go get high.”

She had already started to open the door when Test Tube interjected, “Wait, what?! You can’t just go get high. We’re in the middle of nowhere! And how would you even acquire something of that nature right now?”

Lightbulb took her hand off the door to pick up her purse, plucking out a small black disposable the size of a thumb, waving it slightly. “Gotta always be prepared!”

“Lightbulb,” Test Tube chastised.

“Sorry, sorry!” She tensed up, thinking something over in her head. “I’m… I am going either way. If you want, you can join me?” The offer was so uncertain, even Lightbulb wasn’t sure if it could be considered an offer in the first place. Test Tube was always against smoking and drinking, and she avoided parties like the plague because of that reason. It was stupid to ask, but Lightbulb figured it would be better than rudely shoving herself out of the car without another word.

To Lightbulb’s surprise, Test Tube agreed. “Okay, yeah, I’ll come. Just- where are you going?”

She didn’t think this far ahead. “Oh. I was just… going to figure it out later.” She paused. “Really? You’re going to smoke? With me? I thought you-”

“That isn’t relevant. I’m coming with you,” Test Tube interrupted, crossing her arms. She took a breath, undid the keys, grabbed her things, got out, and slammed the car door shut.

“Oh shit, okay-” Lightbulb followed suit, grabbing her purse and hurrying out of the car. She peered over from the other side, catching a change in Test Tube’s demeanor. “You don’t have to-”

“Where are we going?”

Lightbulb gave up when the realization hit that Test Tube was set on what she was doing and wasn’t backing out of it. “I guess let’s go find out.”

—

Fan sat on the “couch” of his and Test Tube’s apartment, eyes strained against the nighttime in comparison to the harsh blue light of his laptop. He had been working without stopping on an editing project, and it was really starting to get to him. Not only that, but also the fact that Test Tube hadn’t come back yet.

They always saw each other after work, school, whatever. It always ended up being the two of them by the time the stars took their place in the sky. Neither of them were social in the way that they’d be staying out late or sleeping over at other homes. The night before, Test Tube did as she said she would. She messaged him when she got the chance and she was home at a regular, safe time. That was always the case.

Fan let out a shaky breath, trying to dismiss the anxiety that had built up in his chest. He closed his laptop, allowing himself to stare at the wall for a moment.

He had been more open with Test Tube about how he was feeling in the past. It was hard, but it wasn’t like how it was now. Even with them sharing an apartment and a room, knowing the ins and outs of how the other acted, and all the little interests they shared in between, Fan couldn’t help but feel defeated at the thought of talking about how bad things were getting.

Rationally, he knew that Test Tube knew that something was up. He just couldn’t find it in himself to try to explain it anymore. Truly, he wasn’t even completely sure what was wrong with him. He went through some awful shit when he was younger, yeah, but it wasn’t that awful. School wasn’t that difficult, although the coursework had been picking up lately. It wasn’t difficult; it was time-consuming. He also wasn’t fighting with any of his friends, nothing like that. So why did his mind feel so empty all of the time?

It was like he was a program that had been shut down, abruptly clicking off and dissolving into static. It wasn’t always, but the feeling wasn’t passing, and maybe the fact it didn’t seem to plan on stopping anytime soon was the worst part.

No, maybe the worst part was that whenever he really needed to talk about it, he couldn’t quite get the words out of his mouth anymore. Even more, he really did want to talk about it right now. He wanted to say something, anything, in an attempt to see if anyone understood what the fuck he was going through.

Unfortunately, the one person he wanted to talk about it with was not home and had not responded to any of his messages for the past few hours.

Fan groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Could he not just spend more than a few hours by himself without getting sucked up into his own head?

When he was a kid, he drowned out any unwanted thoughts with TV shows, movies, and books about pop culture. He wasn’t a kid anymore, though. Unfortunately, his childish, unhealthy attempts at escapism weren’t nearly as effective as they had been.

He went through the motions of getting ready for bed, not bothering to check his phone anymore, even though he really wanted to send another message to Test Tube to check up on her. Why hadn’t she responded? She always responded fast, especially to Fan. What if she was hurt or-

Stop. No, he’s not going to think about that. He finally threw himself in bed, dropping his phone, graciously protected by an Otterbox case, on his nightstand with a thunk.

Before another thought could form, he shoved his face in his pillow, focusing on breathing really slow. In, out. One, two, three, four…

It would get better. It would get better, he just had to wait. It would be fine, and this whole Test Tube “obsession” that nagged at him would go away. He would feel normal again after sleeping. He just needed to sleep.

Yet, he found himself thinking of her, and he felt sick.

Why wasn’t she home?

—

Paintbrush huffed, wiping sweat off their brow and scooching back to see their work so far. They analysed the charcoal drawing, lightly squishing a kneadable eraser between their fingers. With a little thought, they picked up some pigment from an edge with the eraser and went back over it with a blending stump.

Their hands and forearms were covered with light black smudges and their face probably was covered too, considering how often they touched their face while lost in artistic thought. They hated the drawing, but you find out fast in art school that at one point you just gotta quit messing with it. They were done for the night.

They checked the clock, noting it was midnight by then, and sighed. After a minute or so of rubbing charcoal off them the best they could with a strewn about rag, they picked up their phone, reading the notification left many hours prior.

getting high with testy lol

Lightbulb was getting high with Test Tube? Seriously? Test Tube, of all people, was getting high… with Lightbulb? Okay, yeah, sure, whatever. They were too tired to think about it too hard. They were taking a shower and going the fuck to sleep.

They were just about to grab their stuff to head to the shower when their phone began to ring. They picked it up without looking, propping up the drawing so they wouldn’t forget to take it to class on Monday. “Yeah?”

A shaky voice answered on the other side, “Hi, Paintbrush.”

“Fan?” They actually looked down at their phone for once, reading the caller ID. It was exactly who they thought it was. “Why are you calling me this late?”

“Oh sorry, did I wake you up?”

“No. What’s up?”

“Ah.” Fan chuckled halfheartedly. “Is Lightbulb there?”

This was starting to get weird. “What? No. Why?” He wasn’t really answering any of their questions, and his tone seemed so… different.

“O- okay. Yeah, uh.” Fan sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Sorry for calling so late. I’ll let ya go now.”

“Wait,” Paintbrush said, stopping him. “Why are you calling? You didn’t answer me.”

A moment of silence filled the room, and Paintbrush could pick up the sound of the trees rustling outside the window and soft footsteps outside the room of their dorm.

“I… I need to talk to Test Tube, but she isn’t answering her phone. So I thought maybe you’d know if she was out with Lightbulb.”

“She is.” Paintbrush halted everything they were doing, narrowing their eyes in confusion. “Why didn’t you just text Lightbulb?”

“...She’s not answering either.”

Normally, Paintbrush would just sigh and continue on with whatever they were doing, but the way Fan was talking made them uneasy. Paintbrush wasn’t as close to Fan as they used to be, but they still saw him around sometimes in the art building, and he wasn’t ever like this. Maybe they were reading too much into it, but they couldn’t remember Fan’s demeanor being this… dull since… well. They try not to think about it so much.

“Yeah.” Suddenly a little off put at the memory, they immediately opened their contacts to find Lightbulb. “Yeah, okay. I’m gonna text Lightbulb. Just don’t do anything stupid.”

“I don’t know why you’d say that,” Fan lightheartedly complained, rolling his eyes even though Paintbrush couldn’t see him.

“I messaged her.”

“Okay.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks. ‘Night.”

“You’re… welcome. ‘Night.” Paintbrush barely got their words in before Fan hung up.

—

Lightbulb and Test Tube collectively ended up receiving 10 missed calls, 23 missed text messages, and 4 voicemails, all that they would not see until morning.

Chapter Text

“Ow.”

Test Tube rubbed her face, realising her glasses were still on. She blinked sleep out of her eyes and was painfully aware of the crick in her neck. That was not her ceiling. 

She pushed herself up and rolled her shoulders, the memories of last night flooding back: walking through fields with Lightbulb, skipping rocks on a nearby lake, getting unbelievably high, coughing her lungs out,  talking about anything and everything… and the two of them walking back to her car just to pass the fuck out. It’s not like either of them could drive home anyways.

Lightbulb was lying in the fully reclined passenger seat, still resting peacefully. Test Tube was in the backseat of the car, so she climbed to the front, avoiding waking her up.

“Where is my phone,” she whispered to herself, still half-awake. 

She checked around the console before sweeping her hand across the floor until she felt the cold, rectangular shape that she was looking for wedged underneath the seat. Half-lidded, she turned it on, shivering as another early morning wind brushed by the car. 

Fan <3

Missed Call (7)

Fan <3

im getting worried testy

Fan <3

helloooo?

Fan <3

r u gonna be home tn?

Fan <3

can u pls call me soon

Fan <3

i rlly need to talk to u

Test Tube squinted, scrolling down to see a plethora of other messages from Fan from the previous night. What the fuck happened?

She clicked the silence button off on the side of her phone. She must have turned it off last night when she was out with Lightbulb.

Eyeing Lightbulb one more time, who was still fast asleep, she got out of the car. The cold wind hit her violently as she clicked the missed call button. A ringing accompanied her until the beep of a voicemail started.

Sighing, she hung up, opting to send a text message instead.

I was out with Lightbulb last night. I’m sorry for not telling you. I forgot. I’ll be home soon :) What did you want to talk about?

Sliding back inside the car, she noticed Lightbulb had awoken too. “Good morning.” When Lightbulb just mumbled in response, she turned the car on, hoping to get some heat. “I’mmm getting coffee before I drop you off.”

“Oookayyy,” Lightbulb mumbled again, readjusting her seat to a sitting position. “What time is it?”

“Eight.”

“DAMN. Okay.”

Test Tube snorted, starting to drive them out of the parking spot. “What?”

“I’m surprised I woke up this early!” Lightbulb picked up her phone while buckling her seatbelt. “Oh, shit.”

Test Tube glanced over for just a moment before turning her eyes back to the road, silently prompting the other to continue. 

“Did you check your phone?”

“I did… why?”

“Is Fan okay?”

“I don’t know why he wouldn’t be. He spam texted me last night wanting to talk about something, but he does that a lot anyways. He was probably just worried that I was out all night.”

Lightbulb raised her brow, trying to comprehend where Test Tube was coming from. “Uh. You didn’t know Fan back in high school, did you?”

“Well,” Test Tube said, clicking her tongue. “I mean, I saw him around in the halls and stuff, but we weren’t close until college. We never had classes together or anything. What? Why do you ask?”

If Test Tube didn’t know Fan in high school, and she isn’t picking up on the potential gravity of the situation, then she surely doesn’t know about what Fan went through. Lightbulb was always energetic, outgoing, she knew what to say. It wasn’t strange that she was close with Fan, Test Tube, and Paintbrush for a long time. Growing up in the same part of the same city for all your life makes it horrifically easy to know too many people too well. So it makes sense that Lightbulb knows, but then again, how the hell does Test Tube not? They’re living together.

Lightbulb wasn’t sure how much she could say. Would saying anything else count as crossing a line? She didn’t want to accidentally rip open a healing wound, even if that was by vaguely indicating to Test Tube that she needs to worry a lot more than she is right now.

“Oh, no reason,” Lightbulb said softly, “I was just curious.”

The rest of the car ride to the coffee shop that Test Tube liked was quiet other than the sound of the heater and the wind practically destroying trees outside. Once they got closer to the thick of the city, it would be worse, but for now, the two girls enjoyed the normalcy of things. Although, it was only normal if you forgot the fact that they woke up in the car that they were driving in.

Test Tube pulled into the drive-through, picking up a black coffee for herself and a hot chocolate for Lightbulb, her favourite. It didn’t matter that it was early morning. It was September, so that meant that any warm drinks automatically counted as cozy fall activities, no matter the time or weather. 

But Lightbulb didn’t look up from her phone, still typing away, not even acknowledging the drink that was set in the middle cup holders for her. A line formed between her brows, and she was clearly invested in something. It was peculiar to Test Tube. Lightbulb usually was a ray of sunshine from the moment she fully woke up to the moment she knocked out at night.

Test Tube nudged her shoulder lightly with her hand before they pulled out of the drive-through. “I got you hot chocolate.”

Lightbulb offered a slight smile, clearly thinking about other things. “Thanks.”

“Is something on your mind?”

“Nahhh.” Lightbulb waved her hand in dismissal. “Just tired.”

Test Tube didn’t pry, but she did notice that Lightbulb was acting just like Fan. 

—

Paintbrush was on their top bunk scratching out small details on a sketchbook when Lightbulb came back. Not bothering to look over, Paintbrush continued to impatiently tap their pencil on the paper. They had been trying to get the shading depth right on the lower half for probably twenty minutes with no luck. They needed to submit an absurd amount of hour-timed pieces by Wednesday, and it was making them go nuts.

“I’m gonna lose my shit if I spend one more minute staring at this,” Paintbrush complained, listening to Lightbulb messily throw their shit on the ground as the both of them always did when they got back from wherever they were.

“I’m gonna lose my shit if I don’t take a nap right now,” Lightbulb complained back, throwing herself on her bed, still in her clothes from the day before. “UGHHHH.”

“I should not have taken a human figure class in the first semester. ‘Seen too many nipples in the past week. ‘Drawn too many nipples in the past week.”

Lightbulb kicked the mattress of the top bunk through the open part of the wooden boards. “Draw mine next,” she joked, but she was immediately hit with the ache of her sore back afterwards, so she proceeded to shove herself under her comforter in an internal retaliation.

 Paintbrush slapped the mattress in response as if to kick Lightbulb back. “Pssh. You wish.” 

If Lightbulb didn’t keep talking, she might have fallen back asleep then and there. Unfortunately, she had a devastating amount of homework to do, so she forced herself to keep talking to stay awake. Getting in bed wasn’t helping, but she’d probably hit herself in the head to pass out if she didn’t take a second to relax. 

“Painty,” Lightbulb called.

“Yeah?”

“Is Fan okay?”

“Uh, probably not, honestly,” Paintbrush admitted, remembering the sound of Fan’s voice over the speaker last night. “You read my message, yeah? Dude, he sounded like he did back in high school.”

“I read it.” Lightbulb shifted in her bed. “He texted me too, AND Test Tube wasn’t even fazed, either! I mean-”

“I don’t want to talk about Test Tube right now.” 

Paintbrush threw their notebook and pencil down, now pissed off at their own drawing, and maybe the situation too. They turned off the timer on their phone, deciding to just try again later. They quickly climbed their way down the ladder and sat on Lightbulb’s bed, practically falling on top of them. “‘Night.”

Lightbulb laughed despite the exhaustion taking over her and getting that weird feeling rising in her chest again at the contact. “Have you come to disrupt my slumber?”

“You weren’t napping. I’m leeching off your mental battery so I can make it through the fucking day.”

Lightbulb knee’d Paintbrush, making them hiss in response. “I might have ended up taking a nap if you weren’t trying to SUFFOCATE me.”

“Get over.” Paintbrush pushed Lightbulb towards the wall, faceplanting fully on the bed.”

“Woahhh, Painty, joinin’ the party when you have your own bed. Tsk, tsk. Your greed sickens me.”

Paintbrush pushed themselves up on their elbows to stare straight at Lightbulb. “Did you just fucking pronounce ‘tsk’ out loud?”

“Yes. Why are you hogging up my bed?”

“We’re both losing it and I’m stealing your last remains of your mental battery. I already told you. Now scooch,” they said, faceplanting once again.

The two of them were squished together in the twin bed, Lightbulb up against the wall and Paintbrush splayed out like a stereotypical chalk-outline of a murder victim. Lightbulb couldn’t help but tense up when Paintbrush’s arm ended up partially on her stomach and Paintbrush’s leg lightly grazed hers.

“Are you napping?” Lightbulb asked, trying inexplicably hard not to let her voice waver.

“Yes. You are too. WE are napping.”

Oh my fucking fuck I’m going to explode holy shit fuck

Lightbulb wanted to make a clever remark in response or come up with really anything to say, but she couldn’t get any words past her lips. It wasn’t that she didn’t want Paintbrush with her like this, in fact, she was fucking ecstatic about the situation she ended up in. She just didn’t understand why she ended up in this situation. She had to have said something really cool… or not. Maybe this was Paintbrush’s way of playfully bothering her in addition to their fake annoyance.

Still, she let it happen, hoping with all her soul that Paintbrush couldn’t feel her heart pounding a million miles a minute.

But it was nice. It was really fucking nice.

They both fell asleep quickly afterwards, no longer caring about the mess of schoolwork they’d have to deal with when they woke up in a delirious state in the late afternoon. It was nice. It was worth it.

Lightbulb just couldn’t read a room for the life of her.

Chapter Text

Test Tube stared at the darkness of her apartment when she opened the door, making out the outline of Fan lying on the couch. A blast of frigid cold hit her as she stepped in and switched on the light.

“Are you okay?”

Fan was stiff on the couch and staring up at the ceiling as if it had the answers to life. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His hair was straying in every direction, he was wearing the shirt he had on when she left the day before, his face was concerningly pale, and he overall just looked… distressed.

“Fan?” Test Tube asked again, carefully stepping towards the couch as if a sudden movement would send Fan running like a wild animal.

Fan’s eyes flicked towards her briefly before returning to their original mindless gaze. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” Test Tube said slowly, setting down her stuff and beelining for the kitchen. She filled up a glass of water and pulled over a TV-tray to place the water on for Fan. She wasn’t great with words by any means, but she did what she knew how to. 

Still, Fan didn’t look over.

Test Tube recalled the strange interaction she had with Lightbulb that morning and the text messages that were left and succinctly decided that giving Fan space wasn’t the way to go this time. She needed some answers before she could leave him alone, and she didn’t really want to leave him alone in the first place. Definitely not like this, at least.

She carefully slid Fan’s legs over so they were placed on the floor and took a seat next to Fan, who now looked uncomfortably sprawled in between a sitting position and his back flat on the couch. A silence filled the room as he let himself slowly slide off the couch until he was sitting on the floor.

Test Tube wasn’t sure what to say. This wasn’t her expertise, and she didn’t like to pry, at least not on matters like this. She immediately threw herself into any scientific inquiry or opportunity she could get her hands on– it was almost instinctual for her– but the psychology aspect of that? Not her forte.

She waited for a little while in hopes that Fan would say something in explanation first. 

He wasn’t this quiet about this stuff when he met her, right? She could recall them talking about life with all the emotions and in-depth stuff that came along with the ups and downs, at least in the past. Did something change that she hadn’t picked up on? Everything went so smoothly while they lived together that she never considered that how they acted towards each other could have changed or faltered at all.

After a few minutes of nobody speaking, Test Tube finally spoke up: “You needed to talk to me, right?”

Fan nodded very slightly, barely moving at all.

She waited again, assuming that Fan would start explaining at that point, but he didn’t.

Test Tube nudged him maybe a little too roughly on the shoulder with the back of her hand. “Hey.”

That finally snapped Fan out of it. “Oh- yeah. Hey. Hi. Sorry.”

The air was thick with something unspoken, something that Test Tube couldn’t put her finger on. ‘Talking about things’ probably has and probably never will be her speciality. She was a person dependent on what she could see, and right now? Fan was being obvious in the most confusing way. He was sad, yeah, but about what. 

Test Tube couldn’t help but feel that she was missing out on something really important.

“I got you water,” Test Tube pointed out, assuming Fan was too out of it to notice. 

Fan blinked. He shook his head a little bit as if it was a method to break himself out of the trance he found himself in. “Aw, thanks.” He grabbed the glass and chugged the water all in one go.

Test Tube raised her brow, words full of tentative confusion. “Were you just thirsty?”

Fan looked at her as if she had just grown a third arm. “Yes, I was definitely not having a breakdown or anything. Just really thirsty. Parched, really.”

“Sorry,” Test Tube said. She didn’t really know why she was apologising, but she figured it was the best response she could’ve come up with either way. If Fan didn’t look so disheveled, she probably would’ve been able to throw back a fun retort, or properly engage with Fan’s sarcasm. In this moment, though? Fan looked sick .

She spoke up again, “You said you wanted to talk to me, Fan. About what?”

Fan looked up at Test Tube from his spot on the floor. “I was having a bad night last night,” Fan admitted, tilting his head to the side in thought. He shrugged. “I just… wanted to talk to you.”

Test Tube wasn’t buying it this time. Not pressing for information is one thing, but it’s different when someone looks like they’re holding onto their sanity via a thread.  “Really? That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Fan mumbled, stress still evident in his face. “That, and I’m tired.”

This wasn’t Fan. Not the Fan she knew, at least. The more she thought about it while looking at him, the worse it seemed. Test Tube may not have been the best with emotions at times, but she knew enough to recognise what level unhealthy dropped into. This was unhealthy.

The whir of the fridge accompanied the creaks in the floorboards. The slide-out door to their tiny balcony shined a soft, morning light into the room on top of the singular, jarring, fluorescent bulb that was there when they got the studio. The two of them laughed while trying to change them out for something calmer once, but it was a fruitless effort to try to get past the screws on the light covers. Whoever put those light covers in may as well have nailed in some cement around the ceiling light while they were at it, too.

It was a little too quiet recently, especially in an apartment with the two of them.

Fan stood up abruptly, turning on his heel and walking towards the door to their room. He closed it behind him without any malice, instead opting to say something vague about naps being a gateway to the heart before closing the door behind him.

She really could have done something; she could have. It was just hard. Fan had his moments over the years, and usually they’d let up eventually, and he’d be back to his normal, goofy self. It didn’t take much for the two of them to return to normalcy, just some time, and it’d be fine. However, this was different. Fan had been sad for weeks. Not normal sad, like when you fuck up on a test you thought you did good on or when you watch a painfully well-written, bittersweet movie. This type of sad was leaning more towards the type when you can’t find a reason to get out of bed– when you can’t find a reason to keep putting effort in anymore.

Test Tube didn’t know what to do.

If she walked into their room, would that be intrusive to Fan’s personal space? If she left him alone, would that seem like she didn’t care? She didn’t understand, and that was the part that was dragging her down. Any action she could take wouldn’t matter, because she had no idea what Fan was going through, surface level or otherwise.

—

Lightbulb awoke to the aroma of something savory and the thud of Paintbrush’s notebook getting thrown against the wall over the hum of slow rock music being played from a portable speaker.

She opened her eyes groggily, taking in the sight of Paintbrush on their floor sitting criss-cross and pinching the bridge of their nose with a plate of food half-finished in front of them.

“Did you make food?” Lightbulb asked, pushing herself up from bed with a groan. She now had a collective ache in her back from the night in the car and the cramped nap with Paintbrush in her twin bed. She moved around, cracking her spine and neck.

“Ew,” Paintbrush said to the sound, proceeding to jab another mouthful of food with their fork. 

Lightbulb’s eyes lit up at the full plate of food left for her on the drawer nearby their bunkbed. “Ooh.”

“It’s probably cold now,” Paintbrush warned while grabbing their neglected sketchbook.

Disregarding what they said, Lightbulb grabbed the plate and scooped up a large portion of rice, shoving it all in her mouth with one go. It was cold. “Don’t care. I’m hungry.”

Paintbrush rolled their eyes. “Do you have to speak with your mouth full?”

“Yes,” she said, making a finger towards the air, “I must.”

Paintbrush didn’t bother to justify that with a response. 

The sunset was already creeping through the windows, making Lightbulb all too conscious of how long she slept. It had to have been late-afternoon at earliest. 

She continued to eat, the full, aggressive thought of her and Paintbrush cuddled up in the bed she was currently sitting on hitting her like a brick. She willed herself not to start blushing when the fluttery feeling erupted in her chest again, as if that was possible. She felt like her face had been set ablaze.

If Paintbrush noticed, they didn’t say anything, instead opting to continue their scrawl of notes. They sighed, not looking up. “How do you get shit done? I never see you do any homework.”

Lightbulb considered it, pushing down the rapid cycle of thoughts of the two of them, trying to focus on the question. “Oh, y’know. I’m just a mastermind at getting things done.”

Paintbrush scoffed. “Right.”

“I just go with the flow and hope that I don’t fail, really,” Lightbulb said, curling in on herself. “Also, it helps that I’ve been studying animals since I was a kid. ‘Makes it easy to not get tired of it.”

Despite knowing each other for so long, Paintbrush never asked why Lightbulb wanted to go into ethology. It was just so natural for her to be so invested in taking care of animals that Paintbrush never really thought about it. 

“Why did you go into animal sciences?” Paintbrush inquired, setting down their sketchbook. 

“Baxter.” Lightbulb smiled. “The love of a pet crab and a handsome, blonde-haired, tank top wearing idiot will lead you through life, truly.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Paintbrush annoyedly said, but they couldn’t help but grin.

Lightbulb laughed; they fell back into their comfortable routine in their dorm: Lightbulb scrolling through whatever nonsense she could find on her iPad and Paintbrush slaving away on some art project they had too little time to complete and too much pride to let themselves get anything below an A for. 

As more time passed, Lightbulb eventually got bored of binging YouTube and checking how much homework she could squeeze into the least amount of hours after some planned procrastinating. Vaguely detached, she grabbed her phone.

testy :P

Okay, now I’m worried about Fan.

She clicked her tongue, relieved that Test Tube noticed the obvious.

did you end up talking 2 him???

testy :P 

A little bit. He kind of brushed me off and went to take a nap.

Lightbulb B)

u shud tell him that he can b vulnerable w/ u

he trusts u more than me lol

he jus doesnt wanna bother u by bringing shit up i think

testy :P 

I’ll try that. Thanks, Lightbulb.

Lightbulb B)

no problemooo

mayb we can all hang out 2gether he needs 2 get out of the house bro -_-

feel fresh air

take some photos

get in that breeze w sum company

testy :P 

That sounds nice if he’ll go. What did you have in mind?

Lightbulb hummed, tapping her fingers against the side of her phone in contemplation. “Hey, Painty? Do you wanna hang out with Fan and Testy this week?”

Paintbrush shrugged. “Yeah, sure. That sounds cool. I needa give my wrists a break,” they said, proceeding to roll out their wrists and sighing while thinking about it. “I’m gonna get carpal tunnel at this point.”

“Yay!”

Lightbulb B)

lets go 2 the mall :3

like wednesday i dont got any classessss

testy :P 

That is far from fresh air.

Lightbulb B)

but i wanna get more naval jewelry 💔

spencers yearns for my presence

testy :P 

Well, now this just sounds biased.

Lightbulb B)

it totally is

but also Fan likes to look at the video stores

testy :P 

I’ll ask him tonight.

…Or drag him along anyways.

Lightbulb B)

thats the spirit!!!

this is so cool beans

Lightbulb smiled, tossing her phone down. It’ll be good to see Fan and get to hang out with Paintbrush again. Paintbrush was always staying up so late at night finishing projects that they rarely had the energy to go out. Lightbulb? She ran with a social battery of a grand jester with  ten energy drinks and an entire bag of gummy bears in their system.

And slightly, subconsciously, she really wanted to spend time with Paintbrush again. Good, one hundred percent attention, quality time. Hanging out in their dorm wasn’t enough– she really, really wanted to go out. To enjoy an activity together, Paintbrush was something she had closely in her grasp, unwavering and steady. Sometimes, it felt as if she didn’t hold on tight enough, they’d disappear. Sometimes, it felt as if they said a little too much, let her jokes slip into reality a little too clearly, they’d run. However, if she held their hand just softly enough, with friendliness that came with fourteen years of friendship, maybe they wouldn’t notice how her hands got clammy and her face flushed and instead notice a casual, happy skip in her step.

She didn’t know why she felt so strongly, but she did. She slammed her face into her pillow as if Paintbrush wasn’t right there.

She gripped her hair, not knowing that Paintbrush actually was watching closely, with a sly smile brighter than gold.

—

Little did the four of them know that Wednesday would be far more eventful than they ever could have guessed. 

Chapter Text

The days leading up to their excursion dragged by far too slowly. Fan knew he was going, but he refused to leave his bed before then other than to drink water, eat, or to the bathroom. Paintbrush submitted a slew of assignments that they had procured. Lightbulb ended up finally hunkering down and typing up a few reports. Test Tube did the same, although she did so  with an underlying worry that Fan was going to get sick of malnutrition before she could even get him out of the house.

Still, Wednesday eventually came around. 

Paintbrush parked in a corner far from the mass of cars in the parking lot and scrolled through their phone while Lightbulb talked their ear off. The two of them were waiting for a text from Test Tube or fan that they had arrived, but it was already nearing fifteen minutes past when they were supposed to be there, so they decided to just get up and go inside anyway.

Kids running, parents scrambling after them, bright fluorescents, mixed smells of candle shops and cinnamon rolls, loud chatter: the mall, an introvert’s nightmare.

Paintbrush sighed, already feeling slightly ticked off at the attack of stimulation thrown at them. Lightbulb, however, had a skip in her step already. She motioned for Paintbrush to follow her, aiming for a shop filled with various knick knacks and pop culture references lining the shelves. Paintbrush checked their phone one more time- no text- and followed after her.

—

Roughly thirty minutes late, Fan and Test Tube made it to the mall. It was a hell of an effort for the two of them to get ready with Fan zoning out every few minutes and shaking like he was about to blow away in the wind. Test Tube, on the other hand, was getting increasingly upset at the sight of him. She didn’t show it; she refused to show it, but seeing someone she cared for so deeply like that ? It was enough to make her want to cry.

She wasn’t sure what exactly made it click in her head after dismissing it for so long, what tilted her towards a realm of fear, but something was seriously wrong. There was an ache in the back of her head from repressing the urge to beg him to snap out of it, to beg him to be himself again.

Test Tube stared at Fan attentively as they walked towards the mall. She was grateful she was able to convince him to come, but her gut was telling her that maybe he should have stayed home anyways. There was something close to despair in his eyes, maybe regret or guilt, that he’s sending towards his shoes, head downcast. She didn’t say anything.

Fan sent a text to their little four person group chat to announce that they had arrived. It didn’t take long for the four to find each other. If Paintbrush and Lightbulb noticed how bad Fan looked, they didn’t say anything either. Instead, they all fell into a regular rhythm of talking and walking, minus Fan being more quiet than usual. He was talking, though, and that was enough for Test Tube to feel some weight lifted off her chest. 

Lightbulb dragged them into Spencer’s first, albeit with a groan from Paintbrush. She shot straight to the tall, glass jewelry cases, spinning around several until she found what she was looking for. Paintbrush followed close behind her and looked amused at her endless chatter as she tapped on the display cases, pointing out the several ones she liked. 

Fan scanned the walls filled with graphic tees, looking slightly less disconcerted.

Test Tube stood beside him. “They have that show you like,” she said, eyes falling on a small section of t-shirts. 

About a year ago, they’d set aside at least two days of the week that they’d go to the other’s dorm, and they would binge watch whatever Fan was stuck on. Even in the height of his obsessions, he would wait to watch the next episodes until Test Tube was around. She would have to force herself to stay awake with caffeine just to stick it out to 3AM and match Fan’s relentless enthusiasm.

“I have a lot of shows I like. You’ll have to be more specific,” Fan said, a small, tired smile forming at the corner of his mouth. 

She couldn’t tell if it was forced or not. 

There was a squeal, and Test Tube turned around. Lightbulb was bouncing on her heels as she waited for a worker to come over and open the display case so she could get her jewelry. Paintbrush rolled their eyes but placed a supportive hand on Lightbulb’s arm as if it would tie her down to the world around them.

“Would you ever get a piercing?” Fan asked, curiosity etched on his features. 

Test Tube hummed, turning to look at the wall of t-shirts again. “I have my ears pierced.” She walked slowly through the store, Fan following close behind, and took in the wall of mugs, water bottles, and shot glasses. None of this was to her interest. “But, I don’t think I’d get anything else. I did want a septum piercing and a Monroe a lot when I was in high school.”

“Really?” Fan said, playfully skeptical. “A lip piercing? I would’ve thought you’d be the type to rant about how it’s bad for your teeth.”

“It is bad for your teeth,” Test Tube said, distastefully picking up a shot glass with a crude joke on it. She set it back down. “That’s why I won't get one now.”

“What about the septum?” Fan picked up the discarded shot glass. “I should get this.”

“You absolutely should not.” Test Tube took the glass from him and set it back on the shelf again. 

“The septum,” Fan reminded. 

“Right,” she mumbled, “I guess I don’t think I’d look good with it.”

Test Tube turned and continued to walk through the store, leaving Fan with a slight face of shock. How could she possibly think she wouldn’t look good in anything? 

Test Tube always towered over Fan by a solid five inches, even in high school. Her dark green hair flowed down her shoulders like waterfalls on the rare times she had it down. She wore so many button ups and slacks and thin framed glasses that she would push up on the frame of her nose, and she always matched it with combat boots, which gave her another two inches to her height. Her face was clear, she was hygienic, and her voice felt like liquid glitter in Fan’s ears. 

Not only that, she had the personality of an angel. She got him water and soup when he was sick, she would stay up late on calls with him when he was stressed, and she would distract him from his bad thoughts with whatever science-y stuff she was working on or things she learned recently.

How could she think of herself as anything except incredible? What could she possibly mean by she wouldn’t look good in anything.

Fan lightly jogged back up to her side. “What? You’d look amazing.”

Test Tube paused her window shopping and looked down at him, narrowing her eyes. “Are you being sarcastic?”

“No! No, I’m not!” Fan exclaimed anxiously. “I just genuinely think you look good.”

She raised her brow.

“I mean,” Fan stuttered, scratching the back of his neck. “I mean I think you would look good in anything, y’know, including the septum… piercing. Uh.”

Test Tube smiled. Fan was acting like Fan for the first time in a while. “You’re silly.”

That was when Paintbrush and Lightbulb walked up to them, Lightbulb holding a black bag, likely filled with jewelry.

Paintbrush slightly tilted their at head, trying to read the tension in the air. “Are you guys ready to go?”

Lightbulb pulled a little square out of the bag. “Look! This one has a heart at the end of it!” 

She pushed the item toward Test Tube. As she said, it was a silver belly ring with a pink heart at the end. 

“She got four,” Paintbrush deadpanned.

“They’re so cool, though,” Lightbulb emphasised, taking the jewelry and putting it back in the bag.

Test Tube glanced at Fan, who nodded, before agreeing that they were ready to go to the next store. 

The four of them traversed the mall for a while longer. As much as Test Tube tried to make it so Fan felt comfortable going into one of the stores he may have liked, he was uninterested. Instead, he walked with the rest of them, hands in his pockets.

They all decided to stop at the food court for lunch after walking around for about an hour. Lightbulb and Paintbrush went to a pizza place while Test Tube and Fan headed towards a smoothie, sort of brunch, type spot. It was one of those places that really wasn’t that good for you but had the disguise of being healthy through advertisement.

“I already know what I want,” Test Tube said. “I go here far too often for it to be good for me.”

Fan huffed a laugh. “I know.”

“What do you want?” Test Tube asked, pulling out her wallet.

“Oh, uh.” He didn’t think this far ahead. He was hungry, but there was this deep, unnerving feeling in his gut that seemed to leech all the enjoyment he could get out of anything he might have purchased here. It was all unappetizing. His stomach churned at the thought. “I’m not getting anything.”

Test Tube frowned. “I can buy it for you.”

Fan waved his hand dismissively. “I’m not hungry.”

“Okay,” Test Tube said, worried  “Are you sure?”

He mustered up a halfway convincing smile and gave a thumbs up. “Yeah.” He knew that she knew he hadn’t eaten anything that day. It was the perks, or in this case, downsides of hanging out with the person you live with.

Test Tube ordered and got her smoothie before the two of them scouted out the table that Paintbrush and Lightbulb were sitting at, already eating pizza and sharing a large soda. They sat down.

Lightbulb wiped a bit of sauce off the side of her face. “Fan, you didn’t get anything?”

Fan cringed. “Yeah, I’m not hungry.”

It was then that Test Tube loudly breathed out of her nose, hurt showing on her face. She bit the inside of her cheek before taking a sip of her smoothie.

Paintbrush noticed far too quickly: Test Tube’s eyes watering as she sighed, Lightbulb clenching her jaw as if to stop herself from saying more, and Fan ignorantly tracing imaginary shapes on the table with his finger. They were getting sick of this. Fan had been pretty much sulking since he got to the mall and it dampened the atmosphere, making them progressively more frustrated. How long had this been going on for? Now he’s not eating? They internally seethed.

“Okay. One second.” Paintbrush stood up abruptly, grabbing Fan by the arm, dragging him to the corner of the food court. They shoved the two of them into a corner near a few candy machines and the doors to the bathrooms. Their conversation would still be visible, out in the open, but it was more discreet than confronting Fan at the table where Lightbulb or Paintbrush could intervene.

“What was that for?!” Fan exclaimed, rubbing his arm.

“You need to stop playing with that girl’s feelings,” Paintbrush said dimly. “You’re hurting her.”

“I’m not fucking hurting her. I’m not doing anything!”

Paintbrush threw their hands in the air, exasperated. “Then why am I hearing from Lightbulb about all the times Test Tube has messaged her worried sick about you?” 

“What?”

“Test Tube,” Paintbrush pointed back at their table. Lightbulb and Test Tube were looking over in slight confusion, but the food court was loud enough to drown out their conversation. “The girl you live with? Yeah! She’s exhausted, Fan. Do you know how much she likes you? Do you know how much it hurts to be ignored? Because that’s what you’ve been doing to her.”

Fan grimaced. “Imagine how it feels for me , Paintbrush.”

Paintbrush’s eyes softened. “You need help, Fan. This is like in high-”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Fan sneered. “This is none of your business.”

“I know we aren’t as close as we used to be, but it is my business when I’m overhearing phone calls of your roommate in near tears.”

Fan didn’t have anything to say to that, instead curling in on himself. He looked like was about to cry too.

“Please,” Paintbrush pleaded, “I don’t want to fight. I- I’m worried.”

Fan seemed to consider this for a second, eyes darkening. “I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity-”

“Things were fine before you so selfishly interrupted! I was talking. I was-”

“Fan-”

“No.” Fan put his hands up to stop Paintbrush from talking. “No. You know what? I’ll walk home. Fuck you.”

Paintbrush went to grab Fan’s wrist again but he pulled it back. “I don’t want your help.”

He walked off, leaving Paintbrush standing there, fists clenched.

Chapter Text

Plastic cutlery clattered as Paintbrush threw their hands on the table with a groan. “He never listens.”

Test Tube watched closely, gently tapping her fingers against the side of her cup. Paintbrush had a tendency to be extremely obvious with their emotions– whether they were understandable or not– and Test Tube wasn’t sure if she was supposed to know about whatever frustration towards Fan they were implying. Test Tube didn’t like to get in the middle of things if she didn’t have to, but as time went on, this was looking more and more like something she was going to be stuck in.

A heavy silence filled the space between the three of them. None of them were sure if they should say more or if they should say anything at all. Was it insensitive to point it out or was it worse to let the fight they all just witnessed to rot out in the open? What crosses the line?

Finally, Paintbrush broke the silence. “I can’t believe him!” They slumped into the chair next to Lightbulb, pressing the palms of their hands into their eyes. “Jeez.”

“What?” Test Tube pushed away her cup, growing more concerned. “ What?”

Lightbulb bit the inside of her cheek, seemingly considering her words and making sure to use a lot of caution on how to share them. She locked eyes with Paintbrush. “Is he-”

“ Yes! ” Paintbrush exclaimed, “He is!”

“Test Tube,” Lightbulb drawled, twirling her chopsticks in her hand, “Do-”

Test Tube gripped the side of her hair. “Holy shit, just tell me what’s going on! What ?!”

Paintbrush dropped their gaze. “Fan has bipolar disorder.”

Lightbulb pushed Paintbrush’s shoulder with more aggression than usual. “Dude, I don’t think we have the right to talk about that.”

“So?! I think we’ll have the right to talk about it if he kills himself again! ”

“Paintbrush!”

The world spinned slightly, chaotically. Suddenly, the chatter of the mall was as loud as police sirens, the lights were brighter than hot, stoked fire, and the conversation in front of Test Tube was dusty, dirty, and far away. Everything floated in front of her like wisps of life in a whirlwind of ideas, none of which she could quite grasp. 

Fan has… 

Fan…

Test Tube couldn’t think too hard about what Paintbrush or Lightbulb said. If she thought about it too much she would get a headache. If she thought about it for long enough, she wouldn’t act like herself anymore.

The air was thick with repressed guilt, with unrepressed anger, and with the sickening smell of sweet and savory fast food. If she stayed for one moment longer, she wouldn’t be surprised if she threw up. 

She wouldn’t be surprised if she threw up from thinking about the word “again.”

Again?

“I’m- I’m going to go get him,” Test Tube said, pushing herself up from the table, wobbly on her feet. “I’m going home. We’re going home.”

—

Test Tube didn’t catch Fan on time. Instead, she found out through a hasty text message that he was already on a bus and that he was closer to home than she was. She proceeded to spend the next minutes driving home in a dazed panic.

The city seemed more cramped than it truly was. Full, bustling streets of couples walking hand in hand, people smoking on their work break, people selling overpriced street food. It was lively in a way that made Test Tube nervous and envious at the same time. It was her home in the way that it made her tired looking at it.

In the parking lot outside her and Fan’s apartment, she slammed the car door shut, a pre-migraine headache tearing at her skull already. Why the fuck did he have to go home alone? If nothing else, Test Tube was extremely protective, and almost breaking her finger while closing the door in a frenzy should be a sign that she was maybe more than just protective. She was on fire, a gas-lit fuel of worry that wouldn’t run dry.

When she scrambled into the apartment, Fan wasn’t in his usual spot on the couch. She rushed into their bedroom to find Fan in his twin bed and staring at the ceiling, raspy breaths rattling out between tears.

“Fan!” She exclaimed, rushing over to his side. “Are you okay?”

He wasn’t okay. She knew that, but it was so instinctual to ask that she said it anyway. 

It was in moments like these ones that Fan was able to tell that there was something undefinably real about Test Tube. She was so full of life it made him sick. She had a look in her eyes that felt like cold water on a burn wound, and he couldn’t stop himself from choking on another sob. Even in the dark, she practically glowed with compassion. It killed him that he couldn’t be more like her– more alive.

Fan coughed, tears welling up in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

If he wasn’t so small, so quiet, Test Tube might have thought the rasp in his voice came from screaming.

“What?” Test Tube got on her knees next to the bed, leaning over to place her arm next to Fan’s pillow. Still unsure, she laced her fingers on top of his. He squeezed her hand back. “Fan, it’s okay. I’m here. You don’t have to apologise.”

“I do,” Fan breathed, shoulders shaking. “You’re here… aren’t you? That’s the problem.”

Test Tube pulled back slightly to look at Fan’s face, but she kept her hand in place. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No- I mean- I- this is the problem!” He tilted his head as if to gesture to himself. “I can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“Bothering you!”

Test Tube squeezed Fan’s hand harder, heart faltering. She almost stopped herself from saying the words she did, but they tumbled out of her before she could think. “Fan, you never bother me. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be. I care about you.”

The sound of the overhead fan buzzed in time with the wind picking up outside. If not for the slight light slipping through the black-out blinds, the room would be pitch dark. 

Fan pressed his face into his pillow, not daring to look at Test Tube. He wasn’t sure what he would say if he did, but he didn’t want to know that either. He wished this moment could last forever– quiet, comforting, shared silence. Isn’t that what he always wanted? Company? His chest ached as he tried to pull his hand back but Test Tube didn’t budge, just pulling his hand closer to her chest. 

“Fan, please,” Test Tube pleaded. When she was met with more silence, she sighed. “Do you want me to give you space?”

“No!” Fan sat up on his elbow with one free arm, the other hand still captured in Test Tube’s. In this light, Test Tube could see the puffiness under Fan’s eyes and the redness around his nose. She wondered how long he had been crying for before she got back to their apartment. 

“No,” Fan repeated desperately, still shaking. “Don’t give me space. That’s the last thing I want from you.”

There was never a good way to talk about these things. What’s going on with you– it weighs heavy on a heart, on a mind, to think about what the world is actually like when it’s dissolving in front of you. What does it feel like to not be torn open from the inside out by your own brain, a futile attempt at being known, a futile attempt at recovery? Is it possible to have someone scoop out your heart and see it for what it is? Soft and scared? Sacred but sick? 

There’s a shift in dynamic when someone finds out you’re not right. You may be in the world, living in it like others do, but you’re off center in every photo– a reckless reminder that you don’t quite fit in, no matter how hard you try. 

Is it possible to hold someone tight but in a gentle enough way to not break them? To capture them in an embrace that will remind them that they are here for a reason? A reason that begs for someone to stay alive and keep your heart beating, lungs breathing, eyes blinking, voice speaking, for another thousand years?

“Fan,” Test Tube whispered, trying her best not to let her voice break, “I’m not leaving. Okay? I’m not leaving.”

To that, Fan laid back down and closed his eyes. “Okay.”

“Do you believe me?”

Did he?

“Yes.” He swallowed thickly. “I do.”

Chapter Text

Lightbulb sat on the edge of her bed while clutching her knees. “Paintbrush, you can’t just… you- that wasn’t your place to talk. Fan-”

“No, Lightbulb, it is my place to talk now. You know how bad it got before, and I couldn’t do anything, and- fuck! What else am I supposed to do? It’s not like he’ll talk to me anymore after everything that happened.”

Paintbrush had been pacing back and forth across their dorm for the past twenty minutes. The two of them had been trying to talk things over for those same twenty minutes, and they were getting nowhere. It was a cycle with no end.

“He doesn’t have to talk to you.”

With a heavy sigh, Paintbrush stopped pacing and sat down on Lightbulb’s bed next to her. Paintbrush leaned their head against her shoulder, trying not to cry in spite of the fact that they had been borderline heaving with panic since Test Tube left the mall.

Neither of them had the courage to send a message to ask about what was going on. They weren’t sure if they had the heart to hear it.

Lightbulb put her arm around Paintbrush’s shoulder, tugging them closer. If it wasn’t for the circumstances they were in, Lightbulb probably would’ve been far more distressed about the tight pull in her chest as she felt the warm air of Paintbrush’s breath on her neck. She dug her fingers into her knees tighter, tensing up.

Paintbrush knocked Lightbulb’s hand, silently urging her to come back to reality. “Let’s do something else to get our mind off of it before I go insane.” They replaced Lightbulb’s death grip with their own hand, gently rubbing comforting circles into her knee. Paintbrush wasn’t the best at calming themselves down, but taking care of others brought them more peace than they could ever bring themselves on their own.

They ended up watching another movie together, this time a sweet, cinematic film– no horror. It was quiet this time.

—

A week had passed and Lightbulb and Paintbrush hadn’t heard back from Fan or Test Tube. Lightbulb had sent out a few messages checking up on them, and Paintbrush sent one to Fan to apologize for their outburst, but there was no response. The lack of conversation between the group was odd. Lightbulb couldn’t remember the last time that Test Tube went over a day without sending Lightbulb a fun fact about something she learned in class or random details of her day. 

The world was in slow motion– a rotating mass of people all going one direction. Everyone had places to be, things to do, stuff to get done. It was weird to live in a world such as that and feel isolated. Everyone is working together, in some weird way, by trying to make it through life with as little hiccups as possible. Yet, Lightbulb and Paintbrush seemed to be working together alone. The two of them didn’t leave their dorm except to pick up groceries or go to class, and they didn't have much of an urge to change that. Somehow, allowing themselves to exist in a bubble felt safer than forcing themselves out of it, especially when they didn’t feel like they were wanted otherwise.

A few friends other than Test Tube and Fan reached out to the two of them, though. Suitcase and Balloon asked Lightbulb in one of their shared classes why she hadn’t been showing up to their makeshift book club, and she couldn’t come up with much other than a shrug and an awkward joke to dismiss the issue. OJ sent an enthusiastic invite to Paintbrush and Lightbulb in an attempt to get them to show up to a house party near a campus on the other side of town, and Lightbulb spoke for the both of them in a half-assed lie about exams.

If it wasn’t for each other, there was no doubt that the guilt would eat them alive.

Paintbrush ran a sparkly, pink comb through Lightbulb’s hair, occasionally gently threading out tangles with their fingers. In middle school, they always messed around during sleepovers, trying out eccentric outfits and giggling while doing each other’s makeup in secret when their parents went to sleep. It quickly became their thing for Paintbrush to style Lightbulb’s hair with silver tinsel and do Lightbulb’s makeup after they began to figure out their style of androgyny and Lightbulb stuck to her passion for sparkles.

The nostalgia was a blanket of warm in the cold evenings, the ones where they didn’t have the courage to tell anyone else that they were afraid of being known.

Lightbulb slicked on a layer of clear lipgloss, popping her lips as Paintbrush continued to tie in new strands of tinsel. Looking up, she noticed the galaxy of colour in Paintbrush’s eyes and how they slowly fixated on the strands of her hair as they gently, sweetly worked with precision. They were a milky, soft shade of brown, enhanced with explosions of hazel and green like a forest on a warm summer morning. 

She breathed out slowly, overcome with a heavy yet distant feeling in her chest. Their life right now was lonely and quiet, but it faded away in accelerating speed when she was in the company of Paintbrush.

She whispered, “I love you.” It was so faint no soul could possibly hear it, but as Paintbrush leaned close enough to brush Lightbulb’s hair behind her ear, they heard it: words like a kiss on their forehead, words like sunshine peaking through curtains, like the smell of vanilla seeping through the kitchen from freshly baked dessert.

They moved back steadily. “What did you say?” There was no worry and no malice in their voice, just… subtle curiosity.

Lightbulb froze. A burst of butterflies rose in her stomach in panic. “I- Uh. I like you. You’re nice.”

Paintbrush raised a brow, a small smirk forming on their face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Paintbrush moved their hand down her neck onto her shoulder, resting delicately on Lightbulb as if one sudden move would cause her to shatter.

“Thanks,” Paintbrush whispered back. “You’re nice too. Thank you for spending time with me.”

Lightbulb curled in on herself slightly as a familiar heat rose to her cheeks and her biting back a smile. She internally prayed her feelings weren’t obvious on her face and that Paintbrush couldn’t feel her heartbeat pick up. Her heart pounding was so loud in her head that she thought she might implode.

“I wouldn’t trade spending time with you for anything else. Ever.”

Paintbrush smiled and casually returned to tying tinsel into her hair as if nothing had happened.

Is this what friends do? Smile at each other like the other raised the moon? Brush each other’s hair and stare into each other’s eyes with extreme fondness? Spend their nights together watching movies and lying in bed so close that their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces? 

She was down horrifically bad, and she knew it now. She knew it with absolute certainty to the point she wanted to cry. If the feelings weren’t returned, she didn’t know what she would do. 

Unknown to her, Paintbrush felt tingles under their hands with every move and fireworks erupted in their body every time Lightbulb’s face scrunched up when she laughed. 

If there was anything Paintbrush was sure of, it was that they liked Lightbulb.

Loved her.

—

Test Tube and Fan spent two weeks cooped up in their apartment, also not leaving except to go to class, buy food, or go on the occasional walk through the park a few blocks away.

It took some time, but Fan eventually opened up about his disorder. It was inevitable that the conversation would come around after Paintbrush haphazardly announced it to her. He explained episodes of deep, unwavering depression followed by episodes of extreme elation. Weeks spent rotting in his bed, shaking, and not eating were followed with abrupt moments of his heart feeling so light, so pure that he thought only grandeur itself would keep him alive.

Test Tube didn’t full understand, but it clicked for her what he meant when she recalled the years they spent together. In hindsight, she was able to pick out what she thought was just “Fan being Fan” as what it truly was: a disorder.

She wondered if Fan had a part of himself that was the “true” him separate from the episodes or if his disorder was explicitly connected to him, making him who he was. Truthfully, Fan wondered about it too at times.

Test Tube learned what made Fan feel safe, and she learned it quickly. She didn’t want to waste a single moment knowing what Fan was going through without putting in the effort to at least try to ease a sliver of his pain. It tore her up knowing that he was struggling all this time and she had no idea. It was the least she could do to make up for all the lost time that she could have been holding him tight while he was in heaving sobs and alone in his dorm room.

Although, after about a week of bringing Fan water, holding him close to her on the couch as they watched his favourite shows, and reminding him to get up to brush his teeth or eat a snack, something changed. 

It was inexplicably sudden. Like a switch without any notice, Fan was just happy one day. When they both woke up in their twin beds on opposite sides of the room, Fan rushed over to Test Tube’s and shook her awake.

She rubbed her eyes, absentmindedly reaching for her glasses on the bedside table to see Fan’s figure above her more clearly. 

“Hello?” She mumbled.

“Good morning!” Fan stopped shaking her to press a stable, reassuring hand against her cheek as if it would wake her up any faster. “We need to go out today!”

“What?”

Fan shoved himself onto the bed and sat on his knees as Test Tube got up, tugging her sleep shirt up over her shoulder that had slipped in the night. “You’re… happy today.” She didn’t know what caused him to be so energetic this morning, or if anything caused it at all, but she was glad regardless.

Fan grinned, placing a hand on each of her shoulders. “I am. I am with you. Let’s go out.”

Test Tube laughed, joy growing in her as she saw how Fan looked like he just won the lottery, and the fact that it was probably only eight in the morning. “Is this a date?” She joked, placing a hand on top of one of Fan’s and squeezing it slightly. 

“If you want it to be!” Fan exclaimed as he got up from her bed, rushing over to his side of the room to scrounge around through his drawers for an outfit. He pulled out a big, black graphic t-shirt with a logo from one of his beloved shows and picked up a random pair of jeans. “We’re going bowling.”

“Bowling?!”

“And to an escape room. And other things, probably. I don’t know! We’re going on an adventure. ”

Test Tube giggled again, rubbing a hand across her mouth to hide the shock on her face. What had gotten into him between the night before and this morning? Was there some transition period to this that she didn’t pick up on?

More so than that thought, she was shocked at what Fan said. If you want it to be. What?!

She wasn’t sure how she felt about it. On one hand, they had been pretty close for quite a while. Hell, they lived together. But not like… that. Right? What did he mean by that? She was just making a joke. A joke!

Maybe she was reading into it too much. She shook her head as if to dismiss the thought. Fan was just making a joke back. He was always silly, making bad jokes and practically jumping off the walls… most of the time.

She already got most of her schoolwork done for the week, and she assumed Fan likely did the same with how many times he face planted on their kitchen table in front of his laptop with an editing program up, so they were both free for the weekend. 

It was an early, cold morning on a Friday, and they weren’t talking to anyone else, but they were okay. They had their own plans, and that was enough for them.

With Fan practically running through their apartment, Test Tube finally listened and got ready for whatever excursion ( ...date? No. Not a date. ) Fan was about to take her on. She threw on a pair of wide leg slacks and an emerald green button up that matched her hair like the northern lights before freshening up in the bathroom.

Fan had already gone through his whole morning routine with ease and was cooking hash browns when Test Tube stepped into their small living room. The room was filled with the savory aroma of breakfast on top of the outside petrichor creeping in. It was homey just like it was some weeks ago.

They ate breakfast as Fan continued to jitter with excitement as he rambled about all the things they could do today, but Test Tube zoned out watching how he smiled between sips of his too-sugary coffee. He had faint dimples and an adorable squint in his eyes when he was laughing.

She snapped back to reality, realising that her tendency to analyze others was starting to lean towards something more fond, more affectionate. That had never happened before.

Odd.

Still, they finished breakfast and their coffees so they could head out. Normally, Test Tube didn’t like last minute plans, but when it came to Fan? She couldn’t care less. 

Test Tube barely had the time to grab her keys before Fan was pulling her by the wrist out of the door with infectious enthusiasm.

Cute.

They were off on their adventure, and they had no idea about the exchange they were about to have.

Chapter Text

Warm lights and the smell of worn-down, swirly carpet hit them as they stepped into the doors of the bowling alley. The clatter of pins falling down and aimless chatter swarmed Test Tube and Fan as they walked over to the counter to rent some shoes and a lane. 

It was interesting to have the opportunity to do something so casual for once. Test Tube couldn’t remember the last time she went out to do an actual activity other than hanging out with friends with no real plan. This was organized but open enough to let the day take them wherever.

Test Tube smiled with fondness and suppressed a laugh as Fan picked up a bowling ball far too heavy for him and he hunched over in surprise, almost dropping it on his foot. Fan switched over to a more suitable bowling ball and started rambling about how he was “totally going to win” as Test Tube popped their names into the control panel.

Rolling her eyes, Test Tube watched as Fan took his turn first, throwing the ball with an excessive amount of wind up. It ran straight to the gutter.

“Golly, you are… so fucking bad at this.”

“Shut up,” Fan retorted, already grabbing another ball off the rack. “That was just a warm up. Watch this.”

Fan threw the other ball, almost slipping even though he used less force than previously. The ball rolled painstakingly slow and hit five pins on the right. He spinned in place, looking far too smug for doing close to nothing. “First try.”

“You hit five pins. Off center.”

“Pretty much a strike.”

“That’s not even half.”

Fan moved over to Test Tube as their pins reset and the bowling balls rolled back in. He held up a finger to her lips, ignoring the screen above them switching to Test Tube’s turn. “Shhhhh. Let me work my magic.”

Heat flooded to Test Tube’s cheeks and she moved back quickly. She desperately stared at the points screen as if it would personally send out an S.O.S. signal to rescue her from her awkwardness. She recovered discreetly, cocking her head in a defensive manner. “Keep your grimy fingers to yourself.”

Totally normal friendly-not-date.

Fan scoffed and waved his hand dismissively. “My hands are pristine.”

“Yeah, pristinely bad at bowling.”

“HUSH.”

Test Tube proceeded to take her turn, taking a heavier ball and landing nine pins first try. She totaled the next three without a second thought. 

“What was that about winning?” Test Tube teased, walking back over to Fan to lean over him and playfully flick him on the forehead with her index finger and her thumb.

Fan slapped her hand away lightly. “I SAID HUSH!”

Totally normal friendly-not-flirting.

They went through the rest of the rounds, Test Tube obliterating Fan for most of the game until Fan caught up more towards the end, which he gladly took the chance to tease Test Tube back about. Still, Test Tube ended up winning at the end by an ego-destroying amount of points for Fan.

They walked out of the bowling alley and Fan threw his hands up in the air. “Totally rigged!”

Test Tube “You have no muscle mass. This is destruction of your own doing from binge watching TV shows.”

“I’m proudly chronically online, okay?!”

“That’s exactly why you have no muscle mass.”

They got back in the car and Fan and plugged the escape room he was interested in into the GPS before listing off options for lunch they could dig into after they were done. The drive was a little bit longer since the going-to-work-traffic picked up and it was farther on the opposite side of their college campus. They enjoyed the ride anyways and continued to banter back and forth on the way over (with a lot of lighthearted eye rolls included.)

When they arrived, Fan stared up in admiration at the brightly coloured building, jumping up and down on the heels of his feet. “I’m stoked. Holy shit.”

Test Tube laughed, a bright feeling blooming in her chest at the sight of Fan truly, genuinely smiling under the near mid-day sun.

A clearly bored worker at the front desk greeted them as they walked in, sitting up in their chair. When Test Tube and Fan asked about what was available, they explained that they had a sci-fi themed open room not reserved that would be open in two minutes, but they’d have to wait to see if two other people would join in– it had to have four people.

Fan glanced at Test Tube, who shrugged, and they went about signing release forms in a lobby with a few other people. They were lucky enough to have a spot ready for a drop-in, who cared who was there or what the room was themed.

After only two minutes of awkwardly waiting in a cramped lobby with a family of six and a couple that looked like they had an arrest warrant out for them, another pair of two that Fan couldn’t fully see walked in. Fan silently prayed that they were also dropping in and that his last-minute attempt to feed his addiction to mild adrenaline would be fulfilled.

The worker gestured for Fan and Test Tube to come over. Fan got up far too fast and scurried over fast, Test Tube following along leisurely, until Fan stopped flat in his tracks.

Lightbulb and Paintbrush turned around, making eye contact with the other two.

Of ALL of the many escape room places in this huge ass city, they’re here at the same time at the same place with the two people they’ve been avoiding for half a month? Seriously? SERIOUSLY?

There was a pause filled with awkward silence, and the worker picked up on their surprised facial expressions, eyes flitting between the two groups. “Do you guys know each other?”

Test Tube cleared her throat. “Uh, yeah.”

There was another pause.

Lightbulb clicked her tongue, mostly unbothered by the coincidence. “‘Wanna play with us still?”

Paintbrush seemed much more apprehensive, but they knew internally that they really wanted things to go back to normal between the group, so they relented, nodding their head to show agreement.

Test Tube and Fan stared at each other for a moment to exchange a silent conversation with their eyes.

How are they here, of all places, Test Tube?! What the fuck.

I don’t know! Do you want to play still?

Yes! I do! Do you?

Yeah, I do.

Are you sure?

Yes.

“Yes,” Fan said, elatement flooding back into his voice. “Let’s do it.”

They went through the usual steps: watching a video about not tearing stuff off the walls– if it doesn’t move, it’s not supposed to– how the door isn’t actually locked, and if you have to step out if you need to use your phone (no cheating!)

There was still some tension in the air between the four, but it wasn’t as bad as any of them thought it would be. They weren’t really mad at each other; they were just avoiding each other for a while. It was easier that way to process, to open up about things, to sort life out a little.

The employee handed them their “hint” radio and led them to a room with grey, mechanical walls and bright blue overhead lighting. A huge box with a screen and a console was in the middle, random compartments were scattered across the walls, and strange switches and bars jutted out from places. It really did look like a lab, or an alien spaceship, or… something.

The door shut behind them and the introductory screen popped up on a TV lodged in the upper left-hand corner of the room. Some dude, definitely not paid enough for this job, eccentrically acted out being a mad scientist that took them in his UFO to destroy a planet. The screen switched to bright green countdown.

Immediately, Fan rushed over to the center “console” to start looking at puzzle pieces and magnets tied to strings. Test Tube followed suit, running her fingers underneath the edge of cabinets in contemplation. Lightbulb and Paintbrush had their own incomprehensible method of looking for clues.

Fan gasped as he clicked two magnets together and a hatch opened. “Guys! I opened something.”

Lightbulb continued to work on whatever she was doing while Test Tube and Paintbrush came over to examine the contents of the metal slot: a slim, laminated piece of paper with a number code, a letter, and two more magnets.

Paintbrush went to work figuring out where the code could go. Test Tube read out the letter to the group, gears turning in her head trying to pick out if there might have been a hidden message. Fan picked up the magnets and began to speed walk around the room for other slots.

They got back into the hang of things fast, their little friend group quickly repairing itself without much needing to be said. This group, to some extent, had always been together. Sure, it was through friends of friends and time-consuming group projects for a while, but they all knew each other and got along well.

Although, little pricks of frustration lingered in the back of their brain. It wasn’t perfect by any means.

They got through most of the challenge with just a few hiccups here and there before they got really stuck.

Paintbrush crossed their arms, leaning on one of the few empty spaces of the wall in contemplation. “I think we should ask for a hint.”

“No!” Fan exclaimed, shuffling stuff he found around the room on the center console. “I’ve almost got it, I think…”

Lightbulb gave Fan a small pat on the back. “Not to burst your bubble, but you’ve been working on that for the past ten minutes, Fanster.”

“I’m asking for a hint,” Paintbrush said flatly, turning the radio over in their hand and squinting under the blue light to find the button to press.

Fan glared at them. “Paintbrush, leave it alone.”

Test Tube glanced between them all, trying to come up with a quick idea in her head to dismiss the tension before it backfired on everyone. “Hey-”

Paintbrush sighed and mumbled under their breath a little too loudly, “Last time I ‘left it alone’ it didn’t go so well.”

“What?” Fan said, voice breaking as it rose in pitch.

Paintbrush wasn’t sure what made them do it. They wouldn’t ever know. Something broken and repressed, angry and distraught, bubbled over like a stove left unattended. “Last time I let you figure things out ‘ by yourself’ it…”

“It what? What.” Fan seethed, retracting his hands from the puzzle to form fists at his side. “Are you going to bring this up again? Right now? In a fucking escape room where we’re supposed to be having fun?!”

At this point, Test Tube and Lightbulb stepped back in their respective positions from the fight as if it was venomous and it would bite them. The tension in the room now was palpable, nearly suffocating like a pile of quicksand sucking them in too deep.

Lightbulb waved as if to grab their attention. “Heyy, guys, let’s just do the puzzles! Y’know-”

Paintbrush nearly broke something when throwing their hands up in the air, brows furrowing. “You think I wanted to have to think about this? To think about the sight of you?”

Fan nearly choked, trying to ignore his heart pounding a million times a minute his chest. “What does that mean?! Can’t you drop it! We don’t need to talk about THIS right now.”

“How can I FUCKING drop it? I had to fucking see you on the floor like that! You were DYING.”

—

It was a cold spring night, and Fan hadn’t responded for a while. They were supposed to clean up details on a project due to wrap out their senior year and hang out afterwards, but he wasn’t picking up any of their calls. It was nearly ominous. Fan was always on his phone. He typically picked up calls on the first ring.

Paintbrush sighed as they walked up to Fan’s house, a couple streets down from theirs, and noticed the empty driveway and how all the lights were off. Fan’s parents were never fucking home. 

They rolled their eyes. Good riddance.

They trotted up to the door and fished out the spare key hidden under a fake potted plant decoration before fumbling with the lock. The squeak of opening the door cut through the stale, humid air and the low hum of the wind.

“Fan?” They called out, squinting to make out the switch to turn on the living room light.

Click.

Paintbrush inhaled quickly as they caught sight of Fan’s limp body on the carpet, curled up, drool dripping from his lips and eyes pin-point, dull, nearly shut.

“Oh my God. FAN?!” Paintbrush rushed over, dropping to their knees, shaking him by the shoulder. “Shit. FUCK! What did you do? FAN? Oh my God. Wake up. Fan, PLEASE. What did you FUCKING DO?!”

—

The room was silent.

“Paintbrush… I-”

Abruptly, the timer on the TV in the corner ended, and a pre-recorded sequence played about how they couldn’t escape.

The same employee from before opened the door awkwardly, well aware of the conversation that went down through the radio in the room.

“Uh... Your time’s up.”

Paintbrush nearly ran past him, attempting to not let the others see the tears in their eyes. “Lightbulb, c’mon. We’re leaving.”

Lightbulb flashed an apologetic look to Fan and Test Tube before scurrying off after Paintbrush.

Test Tube and Fan left the room, eyes downcast, ignoring the employee as they offered to show them how they could’ve completed the room. 

They politely declined taking complimentary photos and walked out to Test Tube’s car. The afternoon sun didn’t feel as warm and inviting anymore.

The car doors slammed shut behind them and Test Tube rested her hands on the wheel as if it could pull her back down to reality. “You almost died…?”

Fan clicked his seat belt on and leaned his head against the window, trying to will his pounding heartbeat and forming headache to die down. “Just… drive us home.”

Chapter Text

Test Tube wasn’t usually the type to get angry, but sometimes she snapped.

This was one of those times.

The car ride was quiet, but all of the thoughts swirling in her head collided with each other during the car ride, like a tornado that ripped apart a city, with a volume incomprehensible to anyone else. There was no rest, no sense in it all. 

Fan almost died?

Test Tube slammed their apartment door behind them. “You need to tell me what happened. Now.”

Fan didn’t look at her. Instead, he bee lined for their room, holding himself tight like a hug.

“ Fan,” Test Tube urged as he didn’t reply. She dropped her things on the floor and rushed after him. “Fan. You need to tell me what’s going on. Right fucking now.”

“NO I DON’T!” Fan screamed, turning around and pushing her back. “Can’t you leave it alone? STOP! I don’t want to TALK ABOUT IT.”

Test Tube flinched at the raise in her voice, regaining her balance. Fan didn’t have much strength against her due to his size, but the emotional damage of having hands put on her was enough. It was more than enough.

She inhaled slowly, held it for a moment, and exhaled out her nose. “Okay.”

Fan paused, eyes flashing with the realization of what happened. “Wait- Test Tube, I didn’t mean-”

“Okay.” Fan shook her head as if it would get rid of the slithering ache of disgust– betrayal– under her skin. She needed to scrub it off of her. She needed to take a moment before she said something she’d regret. She needed something– anything– to get out of the hell forming before her. 

She took one more breath before going back to the main room to pick up the things she slammed down so hastily. “I’ll leave you to process… or whatever.” 

Fan called something out to her but it was all static. A muffled yet thundering echo of words she couldn’t quite focus on or make out.

She closed the door behind her and sent a hasty text to OJ. She needed a place to stay, and Paintbrush and Lightbulb’s dorm was out of the question. Everything was too much– too loud, too daunting, too scary– and she needed a break. A break from everything.

—

OJ’s house was surprisingly nice for a college student. Plush, red carpet, daringly bright orange furniture, a kitchen with marble counter tops and varnished wood floors. Picture frames lined most of the walls, a ton of video games crowded the living room TV, and shoes lined up neatly near the doorway.

Test Tube figured it a large part of paying for the house came from daddy’s money or some strategic loans or something. OJ was smart. He knew how to get things done quickly, and it baffled her at times.

“Thanks for letting me stay the night,” Test Tube said, a little too monotone. “I hope I’m not intruding too much.”

OJ rounded the hallway corner with a suffocating amount of pillows and blankets piled up in his arms. He walked over to the couch and threw the soon to be makeshift bed onto the couch before shooting her his usual endearing grin. “Yeah! Of course. You’re fine, absolutely not intruding at all.”

OJ had an energy that invited everyone to him. His extroversion was magnetic, drawing in people of all backgrounds to his company like a moth to a flame. He plopped down on an adjacent, equally large couch and bit a hair tie off his wrist, holding it with his teeth as he worked on tying up his vibrant hair in a bun.

It was so normal to the point that it was odd.

Test Tube shifted in her place, still feeling awkward about suddenly coming into someone else’s home. She was a person that gave at least a week’s notice for these types of things. She was so frantic about getting out of her living arrangement that she hadn’t considered how she’d feel once she was actually in someone else’s.

However, OJ was endlessly kind. Sure, he had an air of grandiosity around him at times, but it was the type that was well deserved. He had managed to do a lot in such a little amount of time: getting a mortgage on a house, opening up the place for roommates to rent, getting his bachelor’s done a year early, and already beginning to set up his own business. If Test Tube wasn’t so upset about the situation she was in right now, she might have been a little envious while looking at him.

“You’ve had it pretty good, haven’t you? The words slipped from her mouth before she could stop them, interrupting the small talk that they were exchanging.

OJ’s face scrunched up in confusion as he finished adjusting his bun, but it was quickly washed over with thought when he processed the question. He rubbed the light scruff on his chin, staring down the room around him, the one in the house he managed to buy for himself.

“I guess so? I haven’t really thought about it that much, honestly,” he admitted sheepishly.

You almost… died?

Test Tube suppressed rolling her eyes.

Yeah. Of course you haven’t.

Shit. Why was she thinking like this? This wasn’t like her. She cleared her throat, pushing the distraught deep down in the back of her mind where it wouldn’t bother her.

OJ raised a brow. “Why?”

Test Tube sighed. It wasn’t the irritated type of sigh. It was the tired one. “I was just thinking about something. Sorry.”

His eyes narrowed but he let it go. 

Just then, Paper rounded the same hallway from before. He was also carrying something of his own, but this time it was what looked like an egregiously heavy amount of textbooks. “If I get assigned one more book to read… I’m killing myself.”

Test Tube blinked.

OJ laughed as Paper threw down his books on the dining table before finally catching sight of Test Tube. “Oh, hi! Long time no see.”

She waved awkwardly.

This whole thing was a nightmare. Maybe if she squeezed her eyes hard enough, she’d wake up.

—

Lightbulb’s skin prickled as Paintbrush hugged them closer, their head resting in her hair.

The day was pretty tumultuous, and that’s why Lightbulb suggested their go-to of watching a movie to comfort the both of them. After the two of them sent a slew of texts to Fan and Test Tube, that was all they could do at the time, so comforting themselves was the next step to not having a break down so loud that their dorm neighbours could hear them.

Lightbulb just wasn’t expecting for Paintbrush to sit down in the middle of her bed, making a weak grabby motion with one hand, and pulling her into their lap. She sat facing forward, using her knees to prop up the iPad while Paintbrush sat behind her, holding her tight.

If she wasn’t so off-put by how the day started, she probably would’ve died from how gently Paintbrush was encompassing her.

She didn’t speak. If she said something, Paintbrush might move, and that was the last thing she wanted.

“ No ,” Fan repeated desperately, still shaking. “Don’t give me space. That’s the last thing I want from you.”

After what felt like a century, Paintbrush tilted their head a little, just barely out of Lightbulb’s hair. “Honestly, I haven’t been watching the movie.”

Lightbulb giggled quietly, placing one of her hands over Paintbrush’s arms, still wrapped around her. “No way,” she drawled sarcastically.

Paintbrush scoffed. “Wow. You’re making fun of me now.”

“Am not!”

“Golly, you are… so fucking bad at this.”

“Shut up,” Fan retorted, already grabbing another ball off the rack. “That was just a warm up. Watch this.”

Paintbrush squirmed out from under her, stood up, and stretched. Lightbulb shifted in place to glare at them. Paintbrush tried not to let their amusement show on their face. 

“What are you doing?” Lightbulb questioned.

Paintbrush pulled down an oversized jacket that was hanging off the side of their top bunk and plucked out a little blue and white box. They briefly opened the top to see the last two cigarettes sitting there and turned it around so Lightbulb could see. 

“Ohhh.”

They nodded their head towards the door and slid the jacket on. “You coming?”

“You really shouldn’t smoke.”

“Yeah, I know. Bad habit.”

Lightbulb smiled and jumped up from the bed to shove on some shoes before they both headed out of the door.

The movie buzzed in the background on the now neglected iPad.