Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

< ‘so that’s all I’ll be to you huh’

< ’just a bad memory’

The text messages lingered on your phone’s bright screen. You almost couldn’t believe your eyes, even if the blur caused by your wet eyelids didn’t leave room for doubt. You clutched your phone with both hands. Its battery was at 39%.

<’I’m sure you’ll find new friends soon, unlike me’

<’just another thing I’m powerless at’

The account went offline. You exited the chatroom and let out a shaky, breathy sigh. You put your phone on the table, letting the screen shut down by itself. She wouldn’t have come back. You lied down on the couch in your living room, hugging yourself, as if it helped you in stopping your all too familiar tears.

It always ended like this. Even if this time you thought that it would have been different. You were so in sync and so close after all. Apparently, it took only the smallest problem arising to make you stop putting in the work altogether. Your poor friend didn’t deserve this, it would have been better if she hadn’t met you. Why do you have to be so selfish?

You chest ached, and you held yourself tighter to make it harder for your lungs to get fresh air. You didn’t just want to stop crying, but your mom would have been horrified to find you in some other worse state, so you pushed those thoughts away.

Your therapist said that you needed to think about yourself too, and deep down, you thought that she was right. But why did it have to hurt this fucking much? You good for nothing creep. Better sooner than later, you concluded amid the tears.

After finally feeling the dried streaks on your cheeks, you got up. The part of the couch where your head was resting was now soaked in your grief. Since your mother was asleep, by tomorrow it would have completely dried. You raised your head to gaze at the living room clock. Not even a click could be heard from that somewhat old digital thing, as it showed you that it was 20 minutes to midnight.

You decided to pull yourself together, not because you wanted to, but because you didn’t want to linger on your restless thoughts again, since it was no use. You couldn’t have crawled out of your skin anyway, and you weren’t even sure you wanted to at this point. It would cease being you probably, like a river metaphor you heard in high school. Was it a river? You couldn’t bring yourself to care now.

You blew your nose, turned your computer off, and drank some fresh water. The cold sensation in your guts almost punishing you for tonight’s mistake. Then you put your phone in silent mode, right after setting up the alarm, and crawled in your bed sheets. No matter how many blankets you had, you always felt cold, tonight more than ever. You couldn’t help but stare at the ceiling of your bedroom, hearing your mother gently snoring in the bed not too distant to yours. The night light meekly tried to push your demons away, but another thought came from your own flesh to torment you:

You probably would have died like this.

You tried to suppress your sobs, letting your regrets fall out of your eyes. You always thought that being you would have been the better choice, would have been better than to have friends who didn’t like you for who you were. But where did that bring you? Here? Are you happy now? Like this? Chasing shadows?

You squeezed your eyes tight, making you cry even more. Hoping not to wake your mother up, you let yourself sink into the bed sheets, with the pillow eating away at your consciousness.

When the alarm rang, you lazily got up, aiding yourself with your arms and aiming for the phone on your small night stand near your bed. The sun was too bright for your eyes, and even then, after snoozing the alarm, you had all the intention of going back to sleep, for at least another 2 hours, you mused. Something weird caught your interest though, snapping you back into reality.

Your mother was sitting on the edge of her bed, remote in hand, pushing the buttons almost in a daze. Her eyes were locked on the television, that was eerily quiet. When your eyes lied on the power up button that was being mashed mercilessly, you noticed that the usual television startup jingle was missing.

“Hey, good morning.”

“Not so good morning, apparently.” Your mother said as she turned to you.

“What happened?” You asked, when you pushed yourself on the bed in a sitting position.

“The TV died. Out of nowhere.”

You cocked your eyebrow, asking her to let you check, and you moved to her bed to sit next to her.

Your mother was usually the only one who used this television in the house, since she only watched the movies on her hard drive, that you had gotten for her in clearly mysterious ways (wink wink arr arr). The TV dying didn’t come to you as a shock or a tragedy, since you only really used it if you had panic attacks during the day, to calm you down before bed. But they had gotten so sporadic, you could have just turned to your phone like you always did. It wasn’t a very recent model, but you had gotten it ten years ago-ish? You honestly forgot. You only recalled that your grandparents gifted this television to your family, since they had already three at home. One for the living room, one for the kitchen, and one for the bedroom. They clearly watched it way more.

You couldn’t even say that you used the main TV of the house much, the one in your living room, but since it was a smart TV you could at least put music on it thanks to its ability to connect to the internet.

You were sure your mother was very upset though. What would she do if she couldn’t fall asleep to one of her favorite movies after a long day of work? She would have had to lie down, and sleep by closing her eyes, like she did in the days of old, when there was no TV in your bedroom. But alas, you checked the television.

It was cold to the touch, and since it wasn’t responding to the remote, which was clearly sending signals due to the red light on its edge flashing under your scrutiny, you ran your fingers on the sides of the slim square to reach the manual buttons. Pressing them did nothing, and when you grabbed the dvd player’s remote to boot it up, it showed its usual display with green writings, that signaled its life to you.

“Yep. It’s dead alright. When did you notice?”

“It just...turned off while I was watching Mission Impossible. The movie stopped, it beeped, and then...black. I tried turning it back on, but since it wasn’t working with the remote, I just said I’d check in the morning.”

“Oh well, things just die when you least expect them to nowadays. Just like uncle said, they’re not built to last.”

Your mother put one of her warm arms around your shoulders. You were totally expecting her to make a fuss about that squared machine.

“Did you talk to Lisa?”

Your eyes darkened and moved to the floor, avoiding her gaze.

“Yes.”

“How did it go?”

You half thought that you’d have started crying again, but the tears never came. You just felt your throat tighten, and you thought that it was normal since you didn’t drink anything after waking up.

“We’re not friends anymore.”

Your mother shifted her arm to hug you tight, head pressed gently on your shoulder. She was warm.

“It was the only way it could have gone. You did the right thing, honey.”

She patted your head, feeling the texture of your hair, before pulling away.

You frankly wanted to say that it was your fault, that you made a huge mistake and you didn’t hold onto her enough. That she hurt and you didn’t lift a finger to help, too caught up in your own anxiety, but you clamped your mouth shut.

Your mother would have probably given you a mouthful, repeating what you therapist told you almost a week ago at this point. You listened, but it didn’t stick. Why was that?

Without saying anything, you got off the bed and promptly started to wash up, since you weren’t sleepy anymore. You changed into your home roaming pajamas, washed your teeth, and made your way to the living room, where your mom was waiting for you with her cereal bowl in front of her.

“Now we even have to call up the dump workers to come pick that thing up. I’m not bringing it down two whole floors, that’s for sure!”

The broken appliance was old, yes, but it was slim, so you figured it was because of the size that your mother didn’t want to carry it down the stairs of your apartment complex. She was getting old after all.

“While you look for their number, I’m going to check for TVs that someone doesn’t use anymore. There’s gonna be lots for sure.”

You rushed to the kitchen, only to come back with cookies and a mug filled wth cold milk, meaning to brush the conversation and your brain away from Lisa.

“Where?”

“On Tinted of course.”

You bit into a cookie as she stared at you, lost in thought.

“Where we asked that guy for the console and he didn’t want to drive all the way to the meeting spot? Where we got the cartoon dvds?”

“Ooooohhhh. That app.” She sparkled in understanding.

As you felt the cold milk on your tongue, you looked for old TVs on your phone, always ready to answer one of your mom’s questions.

“I’m not dying to get a new TV though.”

“Yeah, sure. And throwing your hard drive out of the window? The player too. Didn’t you have to start a new series or am I wrong?”

“Ok, I guess I’d miss watching it before bed.”

“Maybe there’s some cheap ones that aren’t too big for the closet, hold on.”

The television couldn’t have been too large or too wide, since its place would have been inside the bedroom wardrobe, which wasn’t very deep; you couldn’t go to Narnia in that thing.

It also needed to not bump into the wardrobe’s sliding doors, since you put many of your clothes and towels in there.

While your skilled finger scrolled past something that was clearly a monitor instead of a television, a pretty sight caught your eye.

It was a brown old television, plastic almost drowning into orange, and its screen was pristine as it reflected the light from the camera shot, giving away that the glass was somewhat rounded. It sort of reminded you of the one you had in the living room when you were little, before your other parent got the SMART ULTRA WIDE 3D TELEVISION WITH BLU RAY SUPPORT INCLUDED against your wishes. The old one had nothing wrong, and you recalled many memories filled with your favorite shows, movies and games, thanks to that grey old box.

You figured that getting the smart TV had turned out in your favor in the end, but this cute machine had already gotten your attention as you clicked on the advertisement.

It was just to see the other pictures, you reminded yourself. Also because such a beauty would have at least costed beyond a thousand euros, for the marvelous state it was in.

You couldn’t hold back a laugh of mirth as you scrolled the other photos, where the cutest pair of antennas, two metal sticks with two rounded ends, could be seen on the television’s top. They were unfortunately cut from the frame in the first pic.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, it’s just, this TV has the cutest antennas…it’s kinda giving mickey mouse.”

You were thankful that your mom was somewhat educated to internet slang, because having to correct yourself now would have been mortifying.

Objectively, it was the first time you saw antennas directly on a television, but you didn’t mind. Your mom probably had one of these during her childhood, when they were more common.

“Can I see?”

You turned your phone to her.

“I’m just looking, because it’ll cost at least two kidneys.”

“Yeah, it is cute.”

You scrolled down, preparing for the blow…

…that never came, since for the first time in your life you read the word ‘FREE’ in capital green, instead of the 4 numbers you were expecting.

Your eyes widened in disbelief.

“What do you mean it’s free???”

“Huh? No way.”

You read the vendor description.

‘Giving away CRT for free bc of a deal gone wrog. Screen is in perfect condition beside burn in in corne. One bent antena. Sticker on side. Didn’t opn it but it works. Tested 3 times. Vintage. You can scrap it fr parts if you want, dont care. Don’t even know model but 70-80s minimum. For measurements pass by shop.Ask for detals in chat.’

This text was making it very hard to like the little box. Even if, as it stated, it worked. It looked like a splendid opportunity.

As you read the description aloud, marking the errors in the text made by someone who was clearly your mom’s age or even older, you turned to her.

“What is burn in?”

“You’re the tech savvy, dear, not me.”

A quick internet research told you that it was a lasting image due to the screen displaying the same picture for too long. The more you know. If it was just in the corner, also counting for your mom’s hideous eyesight even without drowsiness, you thought it might have been alright.

“It’s a slight defect in the screen, nothing to worry about.”

“Where’s the shop?”

You checked the town name next to the vendor’s info. It was the biggest city near where you two lived. Scrolling through the shop images you figured that the store was specialized in vintage appliances, and it was a pretty sight even for your young eyes.

“It’s in the city, next to grandpa and grandma!”

“Then what are you waiting for? Send him a message!”

You kind of jolted, thinking that two seconds ago your mom would have completely thrown away the idea of getting this TV in particular.

“Are you sure?”

“It’s free right? I only watch it in bed, so it’ll be fine, and we can always ask the shopkeeper to boot it up before we get it.”

Fully convinced, and with help from your mom in writing in the guy’s dms, you agreed to meet in 2 days, when your mother was free from work. You chose to drive there, because in no way either one of you could have lifted that giant box throughout all the metropolis’s entire underground. It could have destroyed someone’s foot. Or feet.

You weren’t exactly ecstatic, but at least it would have been something nice that you did, besides playing games and reading your weird books and comics, to tell to your friends. Oh, who were you kidding?

You had no friends.

After finding a reasonable parking spot, you made your way through the smoke filled sidewalk, full of bars and diners, while some cigarette buds joined their kind on the edge of the street.

When you passed in front of the first cafè, you raised your eyes from the floor and, the second you felt someone’s eyesight on you, you met their gaze and held it.

At first, you just didn’t want to step on the thousands of dog droppings that so elegantly decorated the roads of your little town, keeping your eyesight locked on the ground. That was up until recently, when you started getting used to raising your gaze, and staring back at the people who were giving you unwanted, generous looks. In the beginning, you gave them the benefit of the doubt, because you didn’t notice this at all when you were a child, still blissfully ignorant as you were. But after letting some time pass, you had your suspicions confirmed: people for some unknown reason just…stared, at you. They at least had the grace to spare your mother.

So the best strategy you came up with was to stare at them back. Eyebrows furrowed, gaze narrowed, neck turning. If you were lucky, they looked away in shame, realizing what they were doing. That they weren’t looking at an alien. If you were lucky that is. No one ever said anything to you, and you thought that if they’d have, you would have probably told them off. You had decided to stop caring about other people’s opinions and well being if they were being creepy or mean, even if it was hard.

Gone past that godforsaken street, you and your mom arrived in front of the store from the address, as you squinted your eyes because of the sun. Inside, the shop was still entirely made of wood, signifying its status as one of the last antique stores standing in the city. It was full of vintage household appliances, but not limiting to those. All where you eyes could land there were brooms, radios, lamps, kettles, and you almost squealed when you saw an entire teacup set in pristine condition, not unlike the ones that your grandma owns.

The store was filled to the brim, even the wooden cupboards on show had mugs and glasses inside them, and some corners even housed other vintage televisions, placed on tables near or on delicate doilies. You even spotted a Commodore 64, thinking it weird that no one still had managed to find that piece worthy of a collection.

After some wandering into the shop, you found the owner, that was busy fidgeting on his phone, holding it entirely with one hand and using a finger of the opposite palm to graze the screen.

“Excuse me? We are the ones that asked for the vintage television, the one with the rounded antennas.”

“Sure thing, follow me.” Said the shopkeeper with a deep voice molded by smoke.

He guided you towards the sight from the ad, the…CRT that kept reflecting the light from the window, making your mother’s lens change in color. The term was still new to you. Now that you were closer to it you could see the sticker that was mentioned in the ad description on its side: a green lizard that spit a small fire ball. Cute.

“Here it is.”

“You’re sure this works, right?” You let your mother speak.

“Absolutely. It is old, but I am not kidding when I say that I switched it on three times, on three different days, and it showed the channels every single time.”

“So…we can be sure that it won’t break all of a sudden.”

“Ma’m, these things are sturdy, built to last. So if it does work, it’ll keep working for at least another 30 years or so.”

“Climate change permitting.” You said, unsure if the man even heard you. No one really did anyway.

You looked at the sides of the plastic box, and noticed that it didn’t have any opening nor vents. You weren’t really sure how it would have survived all those years, but you had the AC in your bedroom, it would have probably been alright.

“I can plug it up real quick if you’re not sure.”

“Oh yes please! If you don’t mind!” She encouraged him.

The owner moved the television with some effort and placed it on a fairly large wooden stool. One cable got connected to a set-top box that was already on a nearby table. He then grabbed the black plastic cable and plugged it to the nearest socket.

Taking hold of the first universal remote he could find, the man turned the appliance on, which showed static for a few seconds before changing into a cooking show that was very famous in your country.

The audio was good and the image quality was acceptable, besides the burn in that you learned about a few days ago. After another glance you confirmed that it would have certainly fit in your bedroom wardrobe.

“Seems fine to me!” Your mother said while turning towards you.

“I mean, yeah, it is.”

The shopkeeper switched your soon to be TV off, and started to roll up the cables, unplugging 3 colored plugs from the back of the plastic box. You didn’t recall this type of plug before, so you spoke your mind.

“Will we need any more cables besides the HDMI one?”

He looked at you as if he had heard a peacock scream.

“No…kid. This is an RCA connector. It’s too old to have an HDMI jack.”

Even if you were somewhat disappointed that he had stared at you at in utter disbelief, now he was speaking your language.

“Ok. So are there some converters that we could use?”

“Oh absolutely, they sell all kinds of ‘em on the internet.”

“Then it’s perfect.”

“Where would I go without them?” Your mom affirmed in a rhetoric question.

“Come on, it’s no big deal.” You immediately tried to bring your status down.

“Lemme tell you ma’m, in these times it’s practically mandatory to have someone that knows technology. Hell knows where I’d be if it weren’t for my kids and their tech gizmos. I’m not made for them, as you can…see all around you.”

You smiled but refused to add anything to avoid striking up a longer conversation with the man. Your mind wandered to your grandparents again, one of which managed to not only get his smartphone (that he insists on using against his wife’s wishes) filled with adware, but also managed to get hacked and subsequently robbed of a few hundred euros, courtesy of a ‘totally normal link in his messages’.

Happy that you two for once didn’t have to pay a single cent, you came out of the shop while carrying the TV in a little metal cart, offered by the shopkeeper to at least bring the heavy appliance to your car. After propping it on your vehicle’s back seat, you put a seatbelt on it to keep the CRT somewhat steady, even if it probably didn’t need it, considering its weight. You only had to return the metal cart to the store, and then you were off, all the while your mother was already dreading bringing the television up to your apartment through 4 sets of stairs. You wanted to help her, but she refused, after all, she did the same for the oven that you bought last year. You would have been fine carrying only the cables, like she told you in the car.

While you were choosing what playlist to listen to, you suddenly remembered that you forgot to ask what that ‘deal gone wrong’ was about, but you figured that if the television worked, it was sorta none of your business anyway.

You plugged your trusted earbuds in your phone, and relaxed while imagining the coolest animated Mvs for your favorite songs, staring at the lonely countryside of your journey back home.

Chapter Text

Tenna gently stirred, when the light broke through the window and made visible the particles of dust that danced in the air. He had been here in this crowded shop for…fountain knows how long. When loneliness haunted him, just like this moment, he tried to recall Susie’s face, while she laughed heartily in his studio, playing together with her friends, especially Kris. Tenna missed them terribly.

The dumpster truck was etched into his mind, when it stole him away from the rain and the cold, just outside the building he used to call home. He probably would never have forgotten all of the warm memories that the Dreemurs gave him, even the Holidays, how happy he made them all. Not even all of the dust that they made him collect could ever have replaced that, and it never made him regret all of his attempts at keeping them together, his attempts at protecting his whole world and the family  he held dear to his engine. Tenna had only wished to see Kris or Susie one last time, before they brought him away.

Not that he blamed them, as Susie’s words still echoed in the back of his mind, but sometimes, he forgot that those were still kids. Well-meaning, lovely kids that had tried to help him. It wasn’t their fault if…Toriel brought him outside…under the rain…

Tori had even put a plastic bag on him! So that he wouldn’t completely freeze! This was clearly the best outcome possible for him. They could have left him in the snow, right after the Knight had cut his arms off. Left to turn off forever, never to be watched again, the flowers of hope wilting against the elements.

And now Tenna was staring at all of the appliances around him. Furniture that he thought he’d never see again, right out of his prime days, and he couldn’t help but rekindle the desire to be watched deep inside his circuitry. Maybe if he was here there was still a chance…since all of them here were like him, waiting patiently to be adopted, just like he so desperately wished. Tenna wouldn’t have let that hope die out again, he owed that to Susie, who had been so kind to him despite what he’d done to them all.

The shopkeeper had been nice at least, while he carefully connected his cables when he tested him the first time, right after Tenna entered the store. The set-top box had been fairly newer than him, but he didn’t mind, he wouldn’t have let that deter him, as he effortlessly showed the broadcasted channels. See? He still had it!

Just like he’d showed the man for the next two days, and then…radio silence.

Tenna kept himself entertained listening to the noises of the city outside, and occasionally watched the birds reflected of the cupboard glass, that chirped in harmony.

The sound of the door opening had almost fried one of his wires, but soon he recollected himself when he saw you and your mother walk into the old shop. Finally! Someone who could potentially be his family! Maybe he should have kept his hopes down, to avoid more hurt, but Tenna couldn’t bring himself to care when you came clearly into view, towards him! He passed the test by showing you the channels, as he did before, and almost started squealing when you’d said you would have brought him home.

You kind of startled him when you started talking about jack in the boxes and weird syllables, that strangely enough were also known to the owner, but he paid it no mind since he figured that you could have explained it to him, all in due time. Unlike that filthy little mailman who could do nothing but break promises. You were taking him in, when you put him in your car’s back seat securely and even strapped the seatbelt onto him, right? Tenna thought that he was worth more that…no money of course, but he just felt so alive when he gazed at the view from the car’s windows, as if he had been corporeal near the both of you. You didn’t talk about more family members, but he would have been happy with just the two of you, if your intent was to watch him.

Your mother carried him for two set of stairs, and while she was indeed strong, she could be no match for Tori of course. You on the other hand, just brought the cables, so light but all too important for the magic to begin. Talking about magic…he didn’t even spot a single monster when you brought him home. Did your town had a mostly human population? Not that it would have mattered to Tenna: he finally had the chance to see more of his lil’ stinker’s kind.

Your shared bedroom was pretty wide, and the lighting that passed through the silken curtains was even prettier that the one filtering in the store. He just had the time to get comfy in his new spot in the wardrobe, letting the smell of fresh clothes and clean towels fill his nostrils, only for you to close the sliding door on him! Leaving him in the dark???

Sure, you did plug him in, and cleaned the dust off him, and checked a mysterious little drawer with a green dice and a remote inside it, and carefully tilted his antenna upwards…but he couldn’t understand why you didn’t try to switch him on.

He tried not to despair as he faintly heard the sounds of your life muffled by the wardrobe’s doors. Chats, spraying cleaning products, bedsheets being moved, your neighbors talking on the near balconies. Occasionally he even saw your faces, when you slid the doors to grab either a towel or a pair of pants, letting him see the sun for a while. These were his favorite moments in the day.

Until your mother confidently opened his home, again wiping a cloth over his screen to remove any possible dust, and you came into view with a new cable in your hands. It had the familiar three colored ends he knew, red white and yellow, and had a little box in the middle before ending in another metallic tip.

Your small hands connected the back of his roomate, the dvd player, to the wire, and then plugged the three little colored tips into him with the aid of a flashlight.

Tenna felt alive the moment all of the cables enstablished a bond. The electricity finally hitting all of his circuits, where it all should go, all as it should be. He couldn’t help but be excited at his new prospects, the many possibilities unravelling in his mind. He knew many shows, movies and games of course, he would have just had to rummage a bit through his catalogue to find out what each of you liked! Everything would have gone smoothly, for sure!

The player sprung back to life, letting its disk slot open under your commands. Tenna didn’t see a set-top box anywhere around him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care at this moment, not now.

“You’ll just have to plug the hard drive to the player, but I’m sure they’ll play. If they don’t, it’s the player or the movie format’s fault, not the TV’s.”

Of course it couldn’t have been his fault, the reassurance getting to his head even if he hadn’t understood a single word of what you had just explained to your mother. He was still cutting edge!

“What do you want to put on? It’ll be only five minutes to see if we can hear it and see it well, and then we’ll go back making the chicken broth.”

You were making broth? How yummy! Tenna didn’t remember Kris ever be this cooperative about cooking with their mother, not even if it meant baking their favorite pie. He watched you closely as you pondered the question.

“Hm……why don’t you watch Pride and Prejudice?”

“…okay. Why though?”

“Mom, it’s literally on your night stand out of its casing.”

She turned around to lay her eyes on the dvd out in the open.

“Oh goodness, am I really this simple to read?”

She stood up from where she was sitting on her bed and picked up the disk. The two lovers stared at each other in a grassy field, right under the spot that the dvd was placed on, even if the plastic casing was a tad worn out from prolonged use.

With the assistance of the player, Tenna managed to focus enough to manifest the movie in all of its glory. Vibrant colors danced on his screen as he showed the opening credits. So, your mother liked Pride and Prejudice. A classic. Tori loved it too, but it wasn’t her favorite. After all, who doesn’t like a good adaptation of a renowned romance?

His gaze was fixated on your mother, who finally let her features lit up at the joy of having her favorite movies on before bed, that simple pleasure returned to her after a strange albeit not tragic pause.

She likes it! She likes what I’m showing her! Fountain, it’s been so long! Maybe it will be all right with time, event—

Tenna felt his wires constrict in his chest.

You were totally dissociated, with your eyes staring at the floorboards of your bedroom, completely unabsorbed by the movie, not interested even in the slightest. Your mouth was closed, a straight line, as your body gave off an eerie chill. If he had dared to name that terrifying expression, he would have said that you were disgusted. Your eyelids cast a shadow on your gaze, and only now he noticed the terrible eyebags that stained that pretty face of yours. You didn’t even engage with your mother, but he was at least thankful that you weren’t busy with your phone right now.

He shook himself off, chuckling.

No one said that it would have been easy! You wanted him, of that he was sure…probably. You wanted to watch him, he just needed to find your preferences. You didn’t like the same movies as your mother’s? Fine! He is a CRT of many quirks, he can pull it off just fine, he can entertain everyone, from the smallest infant to the crankiest elder. Lullabies and night skies, documentaries and war blockbusters.

You would have had to smile at him, eventually, you just had to. All that Tenna needed was time, and he had plenty of that to spare.

Okay, maybe he did have all the time in the world, but holy pure fountain was it boring staying in the dark all by himself.

After you had tested him, something like a week and more had passed, and what he gathered up until now was this:

You and your mother never watched him together. It was mostly her turning him on to see something light right before bed. 8 out of 10 times she ended up collapsing from drowsiness, as her neck bended forward and her glasses threatened to fall on her lap. Sometimes she woke up and rewound the player, only to give up a few moments later, letting sleep win the battle. Sometimes you woke her up, gently caressing her head to avoid making her jump, and looking at her warmly to encourage her to turn him off. You even gave her a smooch on her hair, and his engine fluttered at the gesture every time.

Speaking about you…well.

Tenna regretted saying this, but…

You didn’t watch him at all!!!

You just wandered around the house while your mother was at work, occasionally cleaning up some of her leftover chores and making the bed after you awoke, precisely some hours after her.

What startled him the most was that, even if he couldn’t see everything at all times due to the irritating wardrobe door blocking his vision, you didn’t come to bed at the same time every day. Oh no. Sometimes, he waited, and waited, and waited, your mom got up for a bathroom break, and he waited, and waited…until you finally closed the bedroom door to crawl into your bedsheets. He dared to look at his internal clock, and for how loud he gasped he was scared you could have heard him, because it was 3 o’ clock! 3 A.M. IN. THE. MORNING.

Just what could you possibly be busy with to keep you from coming into sleep’s dear embrace?  Not every day, but most days? When you didn’t have to go out the following morning? Even if admittedly it was rare for you to go out. Sometimes he wondered if he would have ever been fit for youngsters. There were so many things he didn’t understand, and the technology…it was too much for him sometimes.

But then, you surprised him, this time in positive.

Tenna heard your voice turn into lovely tones during the day. When you were alone, folding clothes or grabbing other appliances from the wardrobe, you broke into song, delightedly letting your throat play with the air in your lungs, and how pleasant you were to listen to.

Didn’t your mother know that you sang? When he distinguished two pair of footsteps, and it was always two, he was sure of that, you never did, not even as a joke. Not a sound besides the normal tone of your voice. Sometimes you laughed at her jokes, but not quite enough to reach that musicality.

He found himself dancing and swaying alongside your melodies, happily recalling the steps if it were songs he knew about, mostly from old animated musicals.

Usually you sang in a completely different language! But he never heard your voice falter, sure in its pronounciation and cadence, even if it never dared to spread itself as farther as it could have. You were clearly afraid of disturbing you neighbors, but how could you? You were so lovely to listen to, that if you hadn’t been so shy he would have loved for you to sing while your mother was present as well.

You even hummed some game soundtracks! And this was valuable information. Maybe you were up all night playing videogames unbeknowst to him, that he could get a little. But didn’t you have friends? He never heard people come over, you just left and returned after a while, maybe mentioning your grandparents in passing. He never heard you chatter on your phone either, as he could distinguish when you were talking to yourself and when not.

Tenna noticed that you talked to yourself a lot. Sometimes making snarky comments about the books you were reading while in front of him, only separated by the sliding door, or reminding yourself of tasks you were afraid of forgetting. You surely were a person of many hobbies, but they kind of felt…strange. Like a…replacement.

There were only so many ways someone could keep their mind busy until you started to cave. Tenna had his work, his show with his literal face on it, but the thoughts eventually came back to bite him in those silent minutes spent in his office.

Don’t you feel alone?

His thought was probably proven right when he rarely heard your breath stutter. He could only hear you when you were in the room with him, because you tried to stifle your sobs even though you were alone, as if you were also afraid of being heard by the Angel. The mattress creaked, when grief quietly consumed you, only interrupted by the blowing of your nose. Tenna didn’t need to be an expert to understand that you were terribly, terribly lonely, and that your little heart craved affection.

And that’s when he made up his mind. You would have met him, you would have partecipated in his shows, you would have been a proud, skilled contestant, and you would have finally found someone to spend your valuable time with, instead of ruining your cheeks with pesky eyebags. Tenna would have found your favorite movies, your favorite series, your favorite games, your favorite everything! So that the two of you could finally, with time, be friends.

Maybe even singing live on air? Maybeeeee?

But he didn’t need to hurry. His studio was still absorbing power from the strip on the wall, and his influence was slowly getting stronger, he was sure of it. He would have just needed to wait. He was sure you could have handled it, just like you probably had endured all of this time on your own.

One day, when you opened the wardrobe door to pick up your usual hairdryer for your bath, you didn’t bother to close it. Tenna took advantage of your little mishap to let the sun linger on his screen for just a second longer, until you came back with a giant black metal box in your hands.

It had some wires attatched to it, and something that resembled a stand to make it sit upright. The television watched as you pushed some of the clothes to the side to make space for the literal black box, before you plugged it in the player. The remote assisted you in choosing what movie you wanted to watch in that moment, and Tenna got so overjoyed he almost forgot himself.

You settled on an animated musical, and after fastforwarding to a song segment, you let Tenna work. Your throat deliberately sang alongside the characters, while you moved the sheets or mopped the floor. Not even a single lyric was lost to you, and you even harmonized with the background chorus at times, when its melody was more interesting that the main one. Then, when the bit ended, you fastforwarded to another song later in the movie, before chanting along again, sometimes even stopping what you were doing to watch the scene that clearly was etched in your mind. You even quoted the characters when they said some particularly funny bits, and Tenna’s engine swelled with happiness at finally seeing your engaged expression, fixated only on him and the movie.

You added a joke without thinking, when you stopped the footage and used the remote to flip through the…files? He remembered his ex partner call them as such, but he didn’t see how a case could be related to the movies he could show at the moment.

An episode was chosen, another musical show, and you clearly had taste when you put an episode with half of the runtime focused on a performance. He hosted live concerts, so he knew they could get pretty lengthy, but Tenna was sure that you had only done so just to sing some more. Your were so cute when your hands tried to mimic the instruments being played in sync with the melody, and your eyes crinkled in happiness. Then you chose another series, that instead had many insert songs in the middle of their runtimes. Tenna didn’t mind this at all. He would have showed you anything to keep you entertained and content.

…until the magic ended. You stopped abruptly, startled by the sound of the keys being inserted in the main door. You pressed pause and immediately switched the television off, gathering the metal box and its wires only to put them away in a haste.

Your mother had just come back from work, and that meant that you had other things to attend to.

Instead of Tenna.

…but that would have changed soon.

It was a nice morning, the clouds occasionally blocking the sun from being too bright for your poor eyes, and the temperature was just right. You texted your mom when she wasn’t busy to check on her, and then got to your usual chores. After having completed those, you finally relaxed with some app scrolling while enjoying a nice cup of warm coffee, sweetened by some sugar and a drop of fresh milk.

You sat on the bed afterwards, and after you closed the chapter of the book you were reading, and putting that next to the mangas you had just finished in a single sitting, you stared at the wardrobe.

Surprisingly, the CRT had been behaving just as the shop owner promised, maybe even better, if only you had another similar model to compare it to. Your mom never complained, so it was fine to you, everything proceeding like usual. When you had tried plugging your own hard drive, even if it was just to be silly for a good half an hour, you hadn’t expected the sound to be so clear. It was certaintly miles ahead of your old television, strangely enough, since everytime you directly connected your hard drive into it, it had a significant sound lag once you watched it for something as small as 5 minutes. It was a small defect, but for how mad it made you, you were all too grateful to have a substitute that didn’t have it, even if it was older. The burn in was also forgettable, to be completely honest.

You glanced at the remote, contemplating on whether to sing a little or not, but ultimately decided not to, promptly standing up from the bed to start preparing for your shower.

The sliding doors didn’t make any kind of significant resistance when you opened them to look at the plastic box. Its screen was clean, and even if that compartment (that somehow someone thought that it could have been possible to hide) had surprised you with that spare dusty remote and…a dice…for some reason, you definitely had made a good ‘purchase’.

You crouched to pick the hairdryer up, when you probably brushed your shoulder on one of the buttons on the side or something, because the TV switched on.

Whoops. You needed to be careful with these. The washing machine did this too, but it was easier to turn on since it had touch controls. Just leaning on that thing wrong could prompt it to start.

Now the television showed static. Obviously because the player wasn’t on. Your hand tentatively tried to reach out to the buttons…that weren’t on the side, before the screen switched to a broadcast.

It was a children’s show. A little boy waved to the fourth wall from a supposed educational cartoon.

While you found the situation silly at first, you soon started to frown when you tragically realized that there was no broadcast that the TV could be attuned to. And even if there were, it would have needed a subscription, that you only had for the smart television. In the other room.

“…okay.”

You muttered aloud when you turned around to get the remote.

Only to stop dead in your tracks when you heard a woman scream “WAIT!” after a static pause.

The woman was clutching her supposed loved one under the rain, when you looked again at the appliance. Your mouth couldn’t help but open.

“Uhhh…”

Static. Then another channel. Two girls were introducing each other, before the camera cut to one of them when she excitedly said “Hi!” in a high pitch.

“…hi, girl.”

Another wave of static, this time faster, taking bits that you didn’t have the time to linger on, in an effort to spell “Not—girl-“

“Sure…’not girl’.”

Your eyes widened. There had to be some weird malfunction.

“How’re you doing?” Asked a handsome man to one of his colleagues.

“……I, don’t know.” Was that all your dumb mind could have come up with?? You didn’t know?? How???

“What do you mean-“ The sentence ended abruptly, probably cut off before the line could get too specific.

Your hands flew to your head, blocking your vision, when you audibly groaned. Then, right after you glanced at the screen covered by static one last time, you hurriedly grabbed the remote and promptly shut the door to the bedroom, letting the slam of wood reverberate in the air.

Great. All that you needed now was a fucking haunted television. If it was free there had to be a catch after all. Maybe that’s what the deal gone wrong was about.

You hit your head on the door, not knowing what to do. You could have called the police? No, they wouldn’t have believed you. The dumpster workers? No, they wanted a fee and you didn’t want to make your mother worry. The shopkeeper? No, same as the police. It wasn’t haunted when he tested it, maybe. An ambulance? One for you, please.

Maybe the internet could have had an answer for your troubles, there were all kinds of shows where they tested places, buildings and objects for ghostly presences, after all. You turned around, before quickly realizing, to your dismay, that your phone was sitting alone pathetically on your bed, stuck in the dangerous room.

“Fuck, can I get more stupid than this?”

You could have turned your pc on, but it took a long time to start, and you needed to get your phone back, if your intention was to call that well deserved ambulance. You also needed to break the news to your mother, before she could have freaked out at the thought of having the wardrobe cut off from your house entirely.

Yeah. You needed to at least get the phone.

The remote in your hand resisted your tense grip, when you suddenly realized that you could have tried turning the television off. No harm in trying, right?

As you positioned your thumb on the soft rubbery off button, you heard a voice come from the other side of the wooden door. It was muffled by the walls, but…did the volume turn up by itself?

“Sorry for—scaring you— please- come back!”

The plead distinctively came from a woman’s crying voice.

“Please…” The appliance begged again, until only the sound of static was left.

As you stared at the remote in your sweaty hand, your eyes darkened.

It’s not like you had anything else to lose, right? If you were destined to be alone all of your life, there was no point in holding on. You wouldn’t have been able to keep track of all of your favorite media even if you had any hope left, so you might as well get eaten by a ghost trying to…fix whatever this was. You were only sorry that your mother would have found out later, probably giving her unimaginable pain.

You gathered air, preparing for what would have happened in the next few moments, and pressed both of your hands on the metallic handle. Remember, it’s okay. You were never meant to get this far anyway.

You peeked through the door, checking for any corporeal presences, before locking your eyes on that haunted screen. It still kept showing static and gave off a midly annoying buzzing noise.

“…hi?” You quietly asked, almost hoping that the ghost had chosen a better way to spend their time.

The screen proved you wrong, springing immediately back to life and showing a birthday party, completed with children screaming in delight and party poppers going off. You couldn’t help but bring your hands next to your ears, as if to shield you from the high volume.

“Hello! Hi!” Said a child excitedly.

“Uhm…I don’t know, how to put this…”

A segment of a game show, displaying a giant question mark, came on.

“Are you…a ghost, or something? A…non-girl ghost?”

Loud buzzer reverberated in the room when the screen showed a giant red x.

“Not- haunted—” Some kids with flashlights exclaimed at the end.

“Okay.” You took another deep breath. “So, you’re the, television? A man television or a genderless television?”

“YES!” A woman screamed happily. “I’m a man—” A concerned spiderman said while pointing at himself in a parking lot. Hey! The only movie you recognized!

“Alright.” You sat on your bed, trying to not make it seem like you were sitting right next to your phone. You still didn’t feel entirely safe yet.

“You…uhm, asked me how I was doing…… why?” You let the end raise in pitch to show that you were more weirded out than concerned.

“Why not?” It replied. Not only a sentient TV but also a witty TV. This would have been hard to grasp.

“Listen. I get that you are trying to be nice and stuff, asking me how I’m doing and all. But I’m pretty sure that, considering that I’m talking to my…” You gestured at the plastic box, trying to put your thoughts in line. “…television, I think I at least deserve to know…what your big idea was.”

The CRT kept quiet, strangely enough. You gazed at the floor, before the sound drove your attention back.

“Want to—be friends.”

The phrase must have gone through your synapses faster than you expected, because you couldn’t control a laugh from escaping your throat. After you sighed to rein in your reaction, you checked in with…it.

“Are you kidding me? You’re a-“

“I’m serious.” A man covered in scars and battle gear answered you.

Your eyes couldn’t help but widen. A plastic, electrical, old ass appliance, for fuck’s sake…wanted to be friends?? With you??? The sanity must be slipping from you entirely. This had to be a dream. What could you possibily offer to it? How would such a friendship be feasible?

You shook your head in confusion, thinking about the logistics. This…not haunted television must have watched you for a very long time before reaching out like this. Did it know about your mother? Did it hear your conversations? You mentally gasped. Did it know that you sang?? It definitely did, after you had plugged your stupid hard drive into it. Fuck.

Then again, who were you to say no? This probably wouldn’t have been a friendship that required much effort. You would have watched it from time to time, or maybe occasionally, until it got bored of you and tried to say hi to your mother, who was clearly the best candidate. You two didn’t even have a way to fluently communicate, so heavy philosophical questions were out of the window. It wouldn’t have hurt you, unlike your ex friend did, to give…him, what he seeked. You gave him 3 months maximum to be generous, before he’d have gotten bored of your sorry excuse of a person.

You gathered your courage again.

“I mean…if you want to, we can be friends.”

Another party, this time a room with a disco ball full of people, was displayed. The loud music went on for less than 30 seconds, before showing a familiar red haired princess with a white streak of hair gesture in delight to herself. You smirked, amused by this sequence.

“So…I can’t believe I’m saying this…” You gave him your name. “You probably know my mom’s name, too. If…you were aware up until now.”

“Yes.” A professor said as he examined some papers on his desk.

“Nice to meet you!” Another girl exclaimed.

“Is…television fine, or do you have a name too?”

The screen almost scrambled to show you some very distinct footage: a man presenting himself by starting with “Mister-“, an animated movie where two anthropomorphic ants were talking to each other “Ant-“, and lastly, some technician’s cut sentence “-tenna”.

“Hold on- what happened to your antennas now? Are they bent or something? They look fine to me. Do they hurt?”

“No—”

Again, the ants scene, right before the technician’s affirmation.

“…sorry, I don’t follow.”

Now the CRT just showed the man crouched over some kind of machine that he was probably fixing. After a slight pause, probably waiting for you to understand, he did it again, repeating the word. The thought that the appliance would wait for you to catch on gave you chills.

“Your name is Tenna?”

A correct buzzer’s sound effect played, adorned by confetti flying everywhere in a large game show studio.

“Huh. And what were the ants for?”

A man looked up through his glasses, asking for a full name.

“Ooohhh. Got it.” This fucking thing even had a full name. You didn’t dare to reflect on which was which. Did it have parents that named him? Did someone…give bir- You immediately shuddered at the thought.

Your eyes glanced slightly at the open wardrobe door, the hairdryer safely tucked away right under the shelf occupied by the television.

“Sorry, uh, Tenna, but I was actually getting ready for my bath. Do you mind me staying away for a while? We can…chat later, if you want.”

The appliance answered you with a quick scene of someone sticking their thumb upwards.

“Alrighty.”

You sighed to calm yourself down. If it wanted to chat, then you wouldn’t have had to worry about calling any kind of ambulance, or police station. The hairdryer felt colder to your touch as you picked it up, and you closed the sliding doors once more. Before you could get to the bedroom door again, a thought quickly burst through your mind.

The doors got somewhat heavier now, but you pushed them aside regardless.

“Do you want me to keep, the uh- wardrobe open? If you can see me then you probably got bored to death in the dark by yourself. Sorry…”

You brushed aside the concept of death for an old appliance, only to watch a girl excitedly squeal, as if she was begging for a new toy.

“Yes! Please?”

“Sure thing.”

You finally turned away, picked your phone up from your bed, and went to the bathroom. The ramifications of what this could have meant for your life sat in the back of your mind, as you let the warm water slide off your skin and consume your fears.

It was just a…sentient television. It would have been fine. Everything would have stayed the same. No one would have taken your pleasant solitude away.

…right?

Chapter Text

Of course, your mother couldn’t have known about this. About how you’d started to keep the doors of your wardrobe open for way longer than necessary, and how sometimes you striked up conversation with your own bedroom television. Maybe he wasn’t exactly ‘yours’ per se, but you thought that he probably called, or thought himself as ‘your’ friend, so it was alright. It kept being weird, calling the appliance a he, but the last thing you wanted was making him sad because of your close mindedness.

You noticed that he only ‘bothered’ you when you weren’t busy, static breaking free from the confines of the wardrobe doors, just so that you could notice his presence. The CRT, much to your relief, wasn’t capable of moving on his own, but you pondered what he could be so busy with that sometimes kept him from casually chatting with you, even when you were free. Did he retreat into some sort of mind palace? Were all televisions like this? Was the smart TV in your living room shy? Or maybe they meditated and sometimes lost track of time. It must have been like that, because if you had been in such a situation, stuck in one place with entertaining humans as your only job, you’d have gotten bored pretty quickly.

You had stopped singing, just in case he was aware during the day. Your non-existant singing talent absolutely could not become a conversation topic. You didn’t even bring it up with your now ex friends in the past, and relief washed over you when you looked back on it, after your bonds had already been severed. You sadly were the oversharing type, and many times you regretted saying something too personal or, god forbid, you talked about your interests in pristine detail. The awkward silences were the worst, but what scared you the most was the possibility of hearing that you should have focused on more western songs, because it was true. Because your time was constantly wasted on songs that no one cared about.

When in the past you cursed your shyness for not attending any kind of singing course, now you were even thankful. If you ever changed your mind and started going now, you’d probably struggle tenfold, in contrast to the other students. Even in your high school, the school band that you were in felt disheartened when looking at you, when they had to assign you songs. You knew close to none, the only exception being songs that you had heard in movies. Either they didn’t believe you or they burst out laughing when you told them that you knew ‘Here comes the Sun’ from the Bee Movie. You understood the meme reputation, but not their being outwardly cruel.

Going back to the television, whose name was Tenna, you reminded yourself, he was surprisingly chatty. He asked simple questions really, but in a way that was clearly aimed at knowing your preferences. Your favorite color, your favorite foods, your favorite season, if you liked showers or baths better, mundane things. Sometimes Tenna asked how the house was structured, and it made sense considering his position. If he had been anyone else, you could have imagined that he was planning a theft, but thankfully, the CRT didn’t have any legs or hands to commit such a thing.

Luckily for him, you had much free time when you were at home by yourself, or maybe you should have stopped saying that? You didn’t even change in your bedroom anymore because of him, after all. The thought of an appliance being flustered at nudity or worse couldn’t linger on your mind for too long, afraid of what that could have meant for all of your furniture. Tenna, for how it seemed to you, was happy with your current arrangement, and you didn’t even dream of asking him if he needed anything else from you, scared of commitment in a relationship with a plastic box, of all things.

You officially had given up on making new friends, now more than ever. If you were such a weirdo, destined to hurt anyone who you came in contact with, it would have been better if you didn’t even entertain the possibility. Sure, you needed to think about yourself, but how could you when your standards were so high for a normal person? How could you favor your interests when others deserved to have their more normal needs met more than yours? A snake biting its own tail. It was easier to give up. Especially because a fu- *sigh*, a television, was the only one who was silly enough to ask for your friendship and companionship.

It would have been fine. All would have been well. You had your family. It was going to be okay. It had to be. Don’t think about it too much.

Tenna was kind of a different story. For one, you were right that he couldn’t offer you the same kind of fluent conversation that one would normally have with a human. Even if someone else would have definitely thrown him in the trash without a second doubt for being able to send ‘messages’, now that you were used to him, it was kind of underwhelming. Yes, the phrases were only cut words from a specific scene, but it took an unbelievable amount of time for him to articulate, and you were sort of grateful, since you wanted to avoid heavy topics. Not that he knew much about how human lives worked, you thought. He was still plastic, metal and wires, after all.

Second point was that he remained, again, a household appliance. You would have never been able to play together, do watch parties, or eat together at the same table. It wasn’t the same as those people who had left you behind, but at the same time, deep down, you were sad that the one who had been foolish enough to choose you as a friend wasn’t even capable of physical contact. Lisa used to hug you all the time. She was warm, until your skin felt cold at the reminder of her confession. You would have just needed to comfort her when she needed you, and all would have been good, in her mind. For some reason, you chose to be selfish and cut her off. Because that’s all that you were good for, right? This would have never happened with Tenna, you thought.

He was like a dog in some way. Whereas a dog needed stimulation and food, the television wanted your company and to be watched. You couldn’t have complained. He was the most eventful thing in your life, all things considering, right after the favorite medias you were hooked on in these months. There was no pressure, no heavy commitment. The only thing you needed to be careful about was your mother, but since he gave no signs of wanting to communicate to her yet, much to your surprise, it wasn’t a difficult task.

The charade wasn’t hard to keep up, even when you visited your grandparents once a week. They were warm and welcoming, always asking what you did during the week and how was work for your mother. You had tried, in the past, to explain to them the new games you began playing, the new comics you picked up, telling them the plots. But for them, they all melted into one giant pot called ‘your weird interests’. Back in junior high, when you had tried to show your grandma one of your favorite shows, she kept grinning delightedly and nodding at your commentary, back when you still believed in their attention. Only much later you heard from her that she didn’t remember the episodes, the names of the characters, and that she struggled to follow the subtitles. You had even taken extra care to find the episodes after much tribulations. But who were you kidding? If your mother didn’t remember the plots, how could your grandma have accomplished such a task? It was just pity. Thankfully, your grandpa just straight up fell asleep when he was bored, so you hadn’t even wanted to try it with him.

So, if the conversations between your mother and her parents were full of spirit, engaged and remarkable, you mostly stayed quiet. You only talked about what meals you decided to cook, what part of the house you had cleaned on what day, and some funny things that your mom did or that had happened to you. That was it. Empty discourse devoid of feeling for your greedy and selfish heart. It was pretty easy to hide a sentient TV.

Even if you got bored at least once a week, you still loved your grandparents. It was undeniable that they had helped you many many times, and you recognized that you being weird was just their short end of the stick. Everyone struggled to connect with their elders, but you were something else entirely.

That train of thought worked until your uncle and his wife came along. To them it would have been even easier to hide Tenna. They barely came to visit at all, and when they did, it was always at your grandparents’ place. Your uncle was their son after all, but you’d started to wonder why he never invited you to some con or out for a simple stroll in the park anymore. You had even tried arranging some fun activity for the two of you, but he always ended up changing his plans at the last minute, either blaming work or some thing that had happened to his wife.

Speaking of his wife… you hated her. Vitriol for her flowed in every fiber of your being. If normally you kept quiet because you had nothing valuable to say, nothing that could have come out of your mouth could have ever been valuable to her. She had the hideous habit of speaking when she didn’t know better, so talking to her about mundane things or speaking your mind only ended up in a chaotic mess. You’d given up on ever salvaging that relationship, considering that if she was mildly annoying in the past, now she was absolutely insufferable. Again, the two of them together were sort of unwelcome, mostly because of that woman, but your family didn’t seem to mind.

Nothing that could have ever made them find out about the new television.

Well, they knew, because of normal chit-chat, but they were ultimately too absorbed in their own travels, often in wholly different states, that kept them away from where you all lived.

When they came you honestly wished you were somewhere else entirely. Your phone was the thing that caught your attention in that timespan, and you only frowned when your grandma gazed at you with a somber expression. She knew that you weren’t enjoying yourself, and wished for the visit to be over so that you could go back home as soon as possible.

This was your life. A white canvas colored only by your escapism and the magical worlds you were mentally transported to. Everytime you felt the urge to talk about them to your mother, you stopped and bit your lip. A stone sat on your chest everytime you remembered that she didn’t care, and you regrettably started ignoring the things she liked in a twisted sense of revenge. She liked what was popular, convenient, near her grasp. It was like she went through puberty a second time just to ‘spare’ you.

Heck, sometimes for how hungry you were for that spark of joy, you even thought about telling Tenna. Immediately you tried to shove that stupid wish in the back of your head, reminding yourself that no one would have gotten how you felt.

You were different, you didn’t try, didn’t want to change, so you were destined to have a secluded heart. If a CRT was the only thread that kept you from spiraling entirely, so be it. Nothing would have changed, anyway, so there was no point in wishing for more, like your silly soul wanted.

You brought you mother coffee, seating the cup near her nightstand as she chatted happily on her phone. From her tone of voice you knew it was your grandma on the other end. Not that it would have been hard to figure out from their conversation topics. Your grandparents didn’t go out a lot, so in the end they often talked about other family members, or what they watched on TV. A thought brushed your brain: Tenna would have been happier with them, probably.

They left the house more than you did and still watched more television. Why did he ask you to be his friend again?

You sat beside your mother on her bed, savoring the bitter taste of your own cup as you quietly stared at the closed wardrobe door. The phone call wasn’t lost on you, but you kept wondering how the CRT felt at this moment. Literally barricated from what could have, no, was his entire reason of existance. Relegated to a witness in his own house.

The coffee snapped you back into reality, its coldness reminding you to finish it up.

“Yeah, they’re the worst. Have you tried wetting your forehead with hot chamomile?”

You stared at the sky through the window, hearing the afternoon birds chirp and showing you a life that would have never fit you.

“The peditrician always said to do that when they had headaches. Too much reading probably.”

Warmth. The taste of chamomile lollipops that you had when you were young made you crave relax. No harm in laying down while your mother talked. You only had to wash two cups and two spoons, no big deal. You wouldn’t have fallen asleep, it was just to let your limbs rest.

Your fingertips found the bedsheets of your mother’s bed, as you positioned yourself comfortably, placing your head on the pillow. She glanced at you and kept speaking.

The television behind the door would have been staring at you, had the door been open. Would he have scolded you for dozing off? For neglecting your chores for a second? Or was he busy? You never heard him when you mom was near, so you never knew if he was aware or not, watching you closely. Another glance of a life he could have never had.

Eyelids suddenly fell, plunging your mind in darkness. Suspended in sleep’s embrace, your body let the tension go. Your brain gave you respite only in these moments, so you treasured them as best as you could.

All sensation ceased, your mother’s voice was gone, and the heart beating in your chest slowed. You wondered if it would have ever stopped. What kept it going?

Suddenly, your eyes opened at the nagging feeling of being stared at. They didn’t meet a stare, a gaze, but a light, cutting through the darkness.

A…square?

It slowly grew, maybe slightly bigger than the CRT you just got around two weeks ago, moving towards you. You shifted your limbs to try and swim away, or to at least put some distance, but they didn’t have that same feedback.

Like they weren’t quite there.

Now the television illuminated you, making your eyes squint. The weird thing was that you had to crane your neck pretty high just to stare at it directly. Did your mind conjure up a divine Tenna or something just to make you feel important for once? As if it could have worked.

“…Tenna?” You muttered, and tentatively tried to reach out to the screen.

You recalled the feeling on your fingertips from your last TV, static tickling your digits and hair standing up. Warmth under your touch. You should have tried it again now that you had an older model.

Your whole arm shook in surprise when you registered the feeling of your hand being caught. It hadn’t reached the screen in time, and it was being held gently, letting you feel a soft fabric on your palm. Your eyes dared to peek slightly lower, and the light of the display showed that you had been stopped by another hand, connected to the television by a clothed torso.

You screamed.

The fingers let you go in a haste as you scuttled backwards in fright. Those hands even covered the screen protectively, while the relaxation from before was replaced by a heavy adrenaline rush.

You stood up from the bed, thankfully not covered in sweat, but you must have yelled considering the jump that your mother did where she was sitting. She strictly scolded you for the scare, calling out your name in an annoyed tone.

“What happened?!?”

“I…had a nightmare. I felt my hand being touched.” You stared at your palm, now completely responsive.

“Sigh. I’m happy to know that you’re okay, but don’t scare me like that! What? No, it’s…they had a nightmare.”

You couldn’t help but touch your hand again. With the soft fabric wrapping you being gone, you wondered just what wanted to make contact with you. You clutched your fingers.

“And they fell asleep for what? 10 minutes? That was fast!”

From the bed where you were sitting, you stared at the closed wardrobe once more. Was it your mind playing tricks on you, or was it really a higher being that wanted to deliver you a message? That recollection felt too real, even if you were sleeping, even if the glove that grabbed your hand was unbelievably soft and warm. When the light from the screen had hurried backwards, you could have sworn that it had reflected on a small golden pin on its ‘chest’. It said ‘TV’.

Tenna? What is going on?

The elevator bell rang when the doors unlocked. This old machine still had two small doors on the inside, that then led to another bigger one, made to face on the outside world. You stood behind your mother as she opened the elevator to finally step out.

Your grandparents’ apartment was already accessible, with the warm smile of your grandpa welcoming you in the middle of the doorway. You two greeted him, before washing your hands quickly to meet your grandma in the living room. She had just placed a tray full of snacks on the table, having set up four differently colored glasses for the family to drink from.

“Hi, how are you doing?”

“It’s alright, what about you? Is the headache gone?”

“Yes, I tried using chamomile like you said, and I think that relaxed my temples enough for it to go away. What about you dear? How was work?”

The four of you sat down, while you checked your notifications quickly just to place your phone screen down on the flat surface.

“Stressful as always. I don’t get how the boss can’t see that everywhere we look it’s a complete mess. I’m still waiting for that raise he promised a month ago!”

You poured the water for everyone, asking each member to hold their glasses out for you.

“He still hasn’t?”

Your mother turned to your grandpa.

“No, and it drives me crazy! Can’t he see I’m working harder than everyone in there? I swear, the only nice thing we have in there is the coffee. The best machine in the world.”

“What brand is it?”

“I don’t know, dad. I still haven’t had the time to check properly. I’ll tell you next week, if I’m lucky to have enough time to take a picture.”

“What about you, sweetie? Are you bored at home? Tell me about your week.”

Here we go with this question again.

“No, I’m not bored, promise! I have so many things to do, also considering the internet, you know? On wednesday I dusted the kitched shelf, and I cleaned the CRT……yesterday, yeah.”

“That old thing is reliable, right? Can’t compare with what we have here, even if they are easier to clean for you. Right, my love?”

“Frustratingly, yes. I can use a longer tool to reach behind the screen, but you have to bend to reach the back of your new one, right? You should be careful.”

“Of course I am, grandma. And I didn’t even do much: I reached in the back and wiped a cloth on the screen.”

She hummed in agreement.

“What did you all do?” Your mother asked.

“Oh, you know, the usual. We went grocery shopping and then I made my special dish for a special someone!”

This is the tone that your grandma used when she had prepared your favorite savory pie. You were already salivating at the thought.

Right when she got up to go get it, the doorbell rang again. Everyone rose in attention. All of you knew what your roles were. Grandma went to hide the cake from someone who would have taken it as granted for the whole family; your mother got two more chairs; grandpa reached for the door handle, and you searched for two more glasses.

Your uncle came in first, greeting everyone with a booming voice. Then his wife followed suit, comfortably placing her coat and bag near the doorframe.

They both thanked your mom for placing the chairs and then served themselves to the snack tray, while you poured them water in silence.

“How was work, dear?”

“We finally had the server in management fixed! Now my work station is much easier to deal with! And…” Your uncle looked at his wife adoringly.

“…I found a place for the new wave of people that came in. It isn’t big enough for…47 people, but it’s a start. At least the kids won’t get separated.”

You bit your lip at her ignorant remark.

“Well, that’s nice. Where do they come from, again?” Your grandpa asked, giving her a puzzled look.

“Oh, they’re from the United Delta Federations. I guess someone was tired of being bossed around by those… monsters, hahaha.”

You had to put your phone down, afraid of cracking it from your intense grip.

“That’s understandable, wh-“

“I saw that you posted new pics on your profile. Antegria, was it?” Your mother interrupted her father, because you had hated where the discourse was going from the moment your aunt had opened her mouth.

“Oh yes! We went for a short trip to visit some family members there! My nephew goes to university already! They grow up so fast!”

“Oh you would have loved it! They have this giant mansion, and they have these german sheperds that just had a litter. They looked so cute!” Your uncle nudged your shoulder playfully since he was sitting next to you. He was the only one you could stomach of the two.

“It’s full of churches there, they often have these stained glasses that are absolutely stunning to look at when the sun comes through!” He added.

“Shame we couldn’t stay for long though. I thought we could have enjoyed a nice hymn, but then the priest just had to be a little fish who…floated in the air. Can you believe it? A priest that can’t even hold the book they’re supposed to read from!”

Your guts twisted as rage boiled inside them.

“Honey, the university was nice to visit at least, right?”

“Oh, yes. The classrooms are really wide, and they organized this pretty photographic exhibit full of rivers and national landmarks. Very nicely done.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to care enough.

“Speaking about university…”

That egregious woman stared at you.

“Haven’t you decided what you want to study?” Your pinky twitched, as it held the fabric of your pants alongside your other digits.

“Languages.” You muttered. It was a safe bet. You did not want to give her more info, or she would have never let you hear the end of it. You hoped that either she dropped the topic, or that your mom came to rescue you.

“Ah, good call. Are you studying for the admission exam? Are you taking any courses for that?"

You wouldn’t have needed such a stupid thing that could only steal time from you. You were perfectly capable of handling the study yourself, even if the book with the university brand on it made your insides flip when you dared to look at it.

“I am studying, thank you very much. And no.”

“No, what?” She bit.

“I-“

“They aren’t taking any courses right now! They told me they didn’t feel the need to follow any, and it’s better like this considering that they’re really expensive, right?”

“No, I know how it is.” Your aunt ignored your mother, turning from her seat to stare at your avoiding gaze defiantly.

“You just want to loll around and do nothing all day, am I right?” She added, with a grin that you wanted to punch.

Your grandma called her out, inviting her to calm down.

“No. Just when will you all realize that they need to grow up? They’re not a kid anymore, you can’t let them waste their time like this.”

“But they sai-“

“I’m not wasting my time.”

That woman called your mother by name.

“It’s not about needing courses or not. It’d be better for them to get into the university mindset, meeting other people who are studying for that same goal, to feel what it’s like to have less time for the things that they’re wasting money over.”

“It’s not wasting money.”

“They only ask for stuff that they know we can afford. They aren’t that selfish as to— Sorry dear, what did you say?” Your mother asked you, because your phrases had been barely audible from the family members raising their voices.

“I am not wasting my time.”

“What?” That woman turned towards you.

“I. Am not. Wasting. My time. I do whatever I want with it, and it’s not any of your business to know.”

Your aunt gasped. It’s been a long time since you’d stood up to her last.

“I am studying, right? Then stop. Asking.”

You hated how your voice strained to come out.

“Like you care anyway.”

The last part slipped, and all went into chaos.

As that woman tried to sneak an insult directed at you again, your mother intervened, affirming your choice. Your uncle tried to be on his wife’s side, right when your grandma gently invited him to stay calm. Your grandpa was sitting in the middle ground, not completely defending you but not entirely agreeing with your aunt either.

It all became a babbling mess of voices and shouts, and you almost felt the need to rush into the bathroom so that you could have a crumble of relief. Instead, you discreetely got up from your seat, and walked towards of the kitchen sink. The basket full of soapy water reflected your tired expression, while you washed the plates that had been used for the snacks. Why did you always have to ruin everything?

Someone probably tried to call you back there, but you zoned out, embraced by your thoughts and engrossed by the motion of your hands.

You weren’t even sure about languages. It was like a placeholder until you either found another more interesting course, very unlikely, or until the weight of the expectations crushed the air in your lungs completely. This one was the most probable.

Just like your school years had been a complete failure, and with your last friend’s bond dissolving in the wind, you were dead certain of being emotionally incapable of forming a new relationship. With anyone.

With everyone? With any……thing?

Your eyes focused finally on the kitchen wall. Slightly off your field of vision, stood your grandparents’ kitchen television. You…haha, really?

You want to see Tenna? Right now?

He’s- It’s… a television, for fuck’s sake.

You would have never become real friends, this was just a little stupid game you two played, only question being why you were playing along. With a goddamn television.

You inhaled sharply to drive away the tears that had been frustratingly building up.

Until you finished cleaning the dishes. Your mother came to check on you when the argument ended. And you both went home.

The bedroom felt colder and darker than usual, when you stared at your boring ceiling. The nightlight cast the shadow of your bed slightly to the side, darkening half of the picture your gaze was focused on. You took the opportunity to get up for a bathroom break, and turned the nightlight off. Now your vision was the same: if your eyes were either closed or open, everything was pitch black. The moon’s rays would have probably been reflected on the wardrobe doors’ giant mirror, but tonight was cloudy, while the sky gave a threat of rain.

You turned in the bedsheets, facing away from your mother so that she couldn’t hear your sniffles again. You hoped that Tenna too was asleep. Or whatever thing he did.

You were tired, so tired, of being in the middle of the line of fire. You wondered if every family was like this. But how could they be, if everyone you met was better put together than you could have possibly been? Why did the happiness of the family depend on your ability to act the part, be a pretty silent statue, like an accomplishment for your mother to show off? She never made you feel like that, luckily for you, but one person against four was a clear disadvantage.

Your grandparents never told you outright, but you knew. How they talked, what they chose to talk about, what they remembered and what they didn’t. How they assumed stuff from your school life that was the total opposite of what you went through. Their prime was spent dancing together in clubs, eating out together and chatting after mass. A lot of people your age invited you to some similar outings, but they’d never been for you.

Constantly out of place, your colorful cage was all that mattered. If you used more colors, put more furniture, kept it clean, it would have been enough to keep you going.

But what if it cracked from the outside? What if someone tried to make your inner walls crumble under time’s passage, and yanked you out of it with force? You wanted to believe that your worth was beyond being useful, in a society based on mutual service exchange, as your therapist once told you. That you could have made someone happy, making them look forward to be around you and spending time with you.

Not overlooking the inky, stained bits, that you constantly had to put under lock and key, but embracing you for them instead. As if they made you sh—

…

…this was pointless. There would have been nothing for you to look forward to, besides your role in the family. You would have gladly helped your mother, but there would have been no point in hoping for more, since it would have never come.

There was nothing else for you left but your dreams. Where you could have been wanted, liked, expected.

Heck, even loved for all that you were.

As your tears wet the pillow once again, you fervently desired to have a different life, to have someone next to you, to be somewhere else entirely. And as your eyelids closed shut, your mind shaped the confines of your dreams. It stopped the colors and lines from shifting and gave them perspective. Your limbs lost feeling for a moment, before they gained it once more.

The cold night wind hit you, making the sand graze your face.

And so you woke up, in an entirely different place. Surrounded by dunes under a starry dark blue sky.

Chapter Text

A shiver ran across your skin, prompting you to hug your pajamas…that weren’t as soft as your pajamas. Your vision finally cleared, before another gust of sandy wind hit you in the face. Feeling the fabric of your new clothes under your fingertips, you slowly got up, raising your head to stare at the dark sky filled with little stars.

This was one heck of a dream to be in.

Sure, you’ve had your fill of weird dreams, just like when you dreamed of being punctured by a scorpion, whose sting felt so painful you cried in relief when you woke up, but this was on another level. You hated the feeling of the sand, especially because it frustratingly seeped into your clothes, just like the few times you went to the beach with your mother on a windy day. It also felt unbelievably cold, too.

“What the hell?”

No one in sight. It was dark, but not completely unmanageable. You shuddered when another gust hit you. No amount of solitude could save you from hypothermia. Hot during the day, cold during the night.

Was this even a real desert? The sand was an indication, but for all you knew it could have been a giant sandbox, and not the digital kind.

You started walking uncertainly for a while, until luckily you stared down the top of a dune you had just climbed, getting your hands dirty in the process. Slightly below you, there stretched an abyss. A black crevice that promised a very deadly fall. You almost didn’t see the end looking either left and right. The only thing that interrupted it looking forward, was another mass of desert, as the sand trickled down the trench where the land ended. It seemed as if someone had cut the earth open, and tore a wound through the canvas of sand.

Nope, you weren’t going there alright.

Something else caught your attention instead, in the corner of your vision. A light that didn’t come from the sky, that now became visible thanks to your new point of view. Rays that shone upwards to the sky but that somehow were blocked from breaking across the stars, swaying in rhythm to… a faint sound. Like a city.

You cupped your ears to listen for something else besides the whispers of the wind. Music. Indistinguishable instruments, but it was indeed music. And music to your ears it was. You weren’t stranded alone in the middle of fucking nowhere!

Lights being operated and sounds meant people, and people, even for how much you hated that thought now, meant getting help, which you desperately needed if you didn’t want to either freeze or starve.

Hugging your sides, you moved towards the only source of light you found, occasionally struggling to free your feet from the hold of the sand.

Your mind was constantly occupied by the entrance of the bathouse in Spirited Away, when you got closer to the so called ‘city’. People… or what you assumed were people because they walked and talked, came from the desert that had been so empty just a second ago, somewhat hurrying to get access to the more lively capital. The sand was interrupted by a giant bridge, made out of black stone which shone glittery confetti inside it, while the edge of the structure was made of clean red stone, making up the railing. Down the bridge, stood the continuation of the crevice you had already seen in the desert, so to avoid any incidents, a platform had been built, in a style similar to that same bridge. Such platform connected both sides of the desert, until the abyss became too large for the structure to keep stretching, and it was cut off with another red railing.

A district beamed at the end of the bridge, attracting everyone who laid their eyes, or lack thereof as you could gather from some of the residents’ features, upon it. You spotted advertisements, shining and sparkling billboards atop of giant buildings, some even looked like houses. Everywhere you could look, everything was decorated with light, that made a stark contrast with the fact that the city, now that you were closer you could see that, had been created inside of a large hole in a supposed mountain. It was dark, even with the lighting, but the abyss was only cut off by this giant peak, that strangely enough, didn’t seem to dissipate as your eyes went higher. It looked like an enormous stone wall, and while a space had been clearly excavated into it to make room for the city, you wondered what had been built first, between the city and the stone bridge.

You had no choice but to join the crowd, in your search for a helpful face.

Even if the bridge was fairly large, others kept shoving into you without care, too lost in their own chit-chatter, and a little sentinel had been charged with supervising who came in from a small cabin. They looked like a person completely dressed in a black suit, or most likely obscured by a shadow in the small office, considering that you could only tell their features apart thanks to the lightning that sort of coated their form. Their face was dark, and they were wearing a hat, occasionally letting out a pleased saxophone like noise through a rotary phone.

It was hard to hear it in the chaos of the city, when people tried to talk over each other in an effort to compensate for the noise, as ads kept getting blasted everywhere you walked. Sometimes you had to pay attention to occasional cars that tried to cut across the crowd, before you noticed that they didn’t have wheels, but floated in the air.

You really felt transported to a more modern version of Spirited Away, also considering the fact that a big portion of the group of inhabitants was moving towards the same direction, as in the only building big enough that could afford to use those big light beams that were hitting the cavern ceiling.

A structure that had an illuminated golden cartoony sign that read ‘TV Time Studios’.

Was it a movie theater? Or was it a real studios complete with movie theaters? Like in Pokemon Black and White 2? Because you couldn’t imagine this amount of people going in such a place just to work, they were simply too many.

You chose to tag along, considering that ironically for its function, the complex seemed to be a point of reference for all the citizens or visitors here. The entrance was marked by two long lines of golden poles, all linked by a red silken rope, and they stretched for a while, before they actually led to the main door.

Every entry seemed to get checked, because a line started forming inside this somewhat ‘red carpet’, making you stand in line for something that felt like forever. The city noises had started to slowly get to you, and while you did see yourself as being pretty resilient, even the toughest person would have at least felt a bit drained after having their ears assaulted for this long. Cars, background chatter, advertisements and jingles, it got a bit too much for your head. So you hoped that the complex would have been more shielded from the noise.

Your heart sank in your chest when you realized that it wouldn’t have been the case, because even after getting closer to the entrance, quietness didn’t seem to prevail. On the opposite, everything got even louder!

When it came your turn to get in the building, a person with what you assumed was a very muscular build hidden under 20 layers of clothes, asked for your formalities. Two eyes stared suspiciously at you right above a thick line of two fluffy scarves. You gave them your name.

“I know that I may be out of place here, but I literally woke up in the middle of the desert, and I don’t know what I’m doing here. I just want to find someone who can help me!” You pleaded.

After some awkward moments of scrutiny, the security guard called someone through an earpiece they hid in their clothes, and in a few seconds, another one of those shadowy figures was at their side. They visibly jumped in shock, revealing a cute pair of cat ears under their hat, and screamed in an alarmed saxophone tune. Then proceeded to fluently address the guard, letting out different strings of notes. So that was their voice.

“You uh… can go with the Shadowguy, follow them. This place can get pretty labirintic real fast.”

You had totally expected them to kick you out. Unless they were calmy escorting you to a secret underground chamber for undesired guests.

“T- Thank you!” You managed to meekly blurt out.

So the aforementioned Shadowguy led the way. It soon became pretty obvious that not only was this building absurdly big and confusing, but it was also loud, just like you’d unfortunately anticipated.

Members of staff ran left and right, carrying papers about who knew what, and occasionally you spotted what you thought were dressed up actors, escorted by other members of security. From some rooms came buzzing music, and all of the doors were labeled to symbolize some kind of set for different movies or series. Someone brought a tray with beverages and snacks on them, and others walked from room to room bringing thick notebooks, with at least 50 differently colored notes that sticked out of them. You would have tried to stare at others like you usually did, but you were the stranger here, clearly. You didn’t feel alienated in the midst of your kind, instead you finally looked out of place for a good reason, stuck in a world that wasn’t at all like your own. You didn’t have the courage for it, not knowing what these people could have done to you or what they were capable of.

You tried desperately to follow your guide, but it became more and more difficult with every passing second you spent here, surrounded by a box made of drywall. You couldn’t drive away the wish to rest, to seclude yourself somewhere quiet, void of any disturbance whatsoever, just for five minutes, until your eyes suddenly shot up from the floor.

The Shadowguy had asked you something, turning their head towards you and making a puzzling saxophone noise. They probably had tried before and didn’t get an answer, due to you being lost in your pressing thoughts.

“Huh? Sorry, I wasn’t… listening…”

They made a longer phrase, always emitting that funny musical sentence that was way beyond your comprehension.

“Sorry… I don’t…”

You heard it before you saw it. The room slightly ahead the direction you two were walking. The text on the door said ‘recording room’. The bass and the kick drum sent a vibration through the floor, shaking your torso and making you feel hollow. Your heartbeat hammered in your ribcage, or was it the music? Going through your bones and taking your breath away? Don’t they know that you need air to survive? You clearly can’t stay here.

You froze on the spot, and the second your guide turned towards the incriminated room to be certain of the source of the music, you bolted. Panting heavily both to get back your lost air and to supply your escape, you kept your head low. You hit someone while running since you weren’t seeing what was in front of you, mindlessly seeking a place of comfort, and turned corridor after trapping corridor.

At last, you caught a small red guy, with a squared white head and who wore some sort of red vest, while he was dragging a cleaning cart out of a supposed broom closet. Finally, a corner of peace.

You bumped into him and the cart, in your rush to get into the room, closing the door behind you in a haste with a loud thud. The closet was dusty and the air inside was stale, full of cabinets that stored various cleaning supplies, but at least the silence here was palpable. Your body decided to heighten the tension for you, spiking your breath rate now that no one else could lay eyes upon you. Now you were sure that it was your heart that thundered inside you, because while you were busy hyperventilating and sliding down the wall, hugging your knees, it made you realize how utterly alone you truly were in this deceiving nightmare.

“WHAT do you mean you LOST them???”

Tenna made the Shadowguy nearly crouch down in terror. They let out small intermittent notes, reminiscent of hiccups. They had called him before through the phone in his office, to tell him that you were finally in his world, until this one called him all the way up here through the earpiece, right at the entrance of the green room, just to tell him that they’d lost track of you. He believed the Shadowguy, because before he had lost his cool they were panting, clearly out of breath from scrambling around in a desperate attempt to find you. BUT HOW COULD THEY LOSE YOU? You were a person, not a little trinket! An uttered melody tentatively came soon after.

“But why would they want to run away?” He gasped. “Unless…”

The darkner seemed smaller when Tenna flashed them a giant malicious grin, letting only his teeth show on his screen.

“You didn’t make them feel threatened, right?”

The Shadowguy cowered, heavily shaking their head left and right, before adding another suggestion.

“The recording room? But they love music, they’d never-”

The host stopped right in his tracks when he remembered your little face, back when you two had first met. You had tried to cover your ears, when you’d come back to him, when he displayed his happiness through a children’s birthday party. The brief look of pain on your face was unmistakable. They must have started a recording session and you ran away stricken by panic. Poor thing. If only he knew where you had gone…

A Clothug hurried towards them, and Tenna immediately turned in their direction. Before they’d come to him, the Shadowguy apparently tried to get a hold of everyone they could find, to see if anyone had any kind of information on your supposed whereabouts, and this Clothug casually happened to be the guard at the entrance. These guys’ addiction to Tenna’s contracts had probably been the luckiest thing that happened to him, when he found himself in the reign of your wardrobe, second only to meeting you. They were big and moderately strong, and most of all, reliable. Tenna came to know that they resembled nude owls underneath, a slender green frail body covered by heavy vests, but it wasn’t a weak point immediately obvious to the eye. He briefly imagined Susie trying to tug at one’s scarf end, spinning like a top and unrolling all of their clothes off them, but he snapped out of this silly thought. He had more pressing matters right now.

“Boss? How can I help?”

“You saw them at the entrance, right before you called this one right here. Did someone go after them? Did you spot them? Anything at all!”

“No, boss. I was checking who came in. If I’d known I would-”

“‘scuse me, boss!” In came Jongler, one of Tenna’s most loyal subordinates. Finally someone competent. He was so thankful that his main trio of employees, the ones who were the least prone to vent on the job, managed to come with him, since two of them were hindered by their physical nature in the light world. Kris and Toriel never noticed his compartment being full, thinking it jammed for one reason or another.

“Please, tell me that you have some news. We’re looking for a lightner here, you must know their face. You saw them when they opened t-”

“Yea, boss. There’s someone here who knows what happ’nd.”

Behind them, stood the angriest Pippins Tenna saw in his life. His clothes were soaked in detergent and smelled like lemon, while his eyes were completely bloodshot.

“Oh, thank the Fountain. Where-”

“Broom. Closet.” His voice was terribly strained, as if he’d been screaming into a pillow for at least half an hour. The closet must have been in this wing of the studios, if the Pippins’s vest was still wet.

“Oh. Well, thank you. Let’s not waste more time! Our lightner must be terribly confused and shocked.”

As they all began marching, the Pippins muttered something under his breath, something related to making them pay for spilling countless cleaning products both on him and the floor. Jongler turned around and stared at him, in an effort to reprimand him.

It took them a few moments to reach the closet, only to find that a small crowd of staff members had gathered around it.

Two Shadowguys were mopping the floor, while another one just put a plastic warning sign on the floor because of one Zapper that was rubbing their aching back end, completely collapsed over a little soapy lake.

The cleaning cart had been dragged to one side of the corridor, with a familiar green Pippins that was struggling to put it back on its wheels, and another Clothug was pulling the closet handle with all of their might, trying to force the door open. The rest of the crowd consisted of actors and some stage operators, even the Weathers came to check on the commotion. They were all chatting in confusion and annoyance at what had clearly transpired.

“Oh, Angel. Can someone explain to me what happened here?” Tenna asked, not amused by the chaos.

“Where is he when you need him… MIKE!!!”

He trusted his most important assistant with his own life, even if he knew he’d left him before he started his last physical challenge with Kris and their friends. Mike was just… difficult to find these days. With the studios renovating, there was objectively a lot more work than usual, and Tenna felt so bad for disturbing his assistant, that at times, he did himself what he’d originally asked.

Thankfully, even if Battat basically ran away from him (or maybe he went to ask for backup, some backup who wasn’t standing there dilly dallying), turning the next corner, here came his Mike. This time, he sported his microphone gloves and his professional little red bowtie, as he stood in front of Tenna, awaiting his orders.

“THERE YOU ARE! Do you know what happened here? Why isn’t our lightner coming out?”

“I got here a while ago, boss. Someone told the janitor to go blow off some steam, but they left that mess in the corridor. As you can see they’re working on cleaning it up, as they should have done before I even showed up.” Mike sighed. His voice somehow always sounded so far away. Working in the showbiz got to everyone in the end, that’s why you needed a trusted assistant at your side.

“Perfect! And… ?”

“… and, boss?”

Tenna didn’t mean to shout your name at Mike, considering that he always hated reminding people how big he was, especially when upset, but he’d grown so worried over you that he struggled to contain himself, literally.

“The janitor said they’re in there! Why, pray tell, aren’t they still out???”

“Oh! Uhm…”

Mike twitched his decorative tail in complete silence, looking slightly past the television in front of him. Mike had many of these moments. Tenna tapped his foot to distract himself from growing even more.

“I… think they barricated the door, sir. The handle doesn’t budge, so I’ve been trying to break the door down.” Said the Clothug who was doing just that a few moments prior.

Tenna tried to hold back a nervous chuckle, failing miserably and giving out one of his award-losing smiles.

“Of course, because when someone just hides themselves in a dark, dusty room, alone, with no way out, of course they’d want someone TO TEAR THE DOOR DOWN!!!”

The Clothug froze in terror.

“Not to mention the fact that, SOMEONE WOULD NEED TO FIX IT!!! WE’RE HERE, ON A TIGHT BUDGET, AND YOU GO AROUND-”

Tenna swore that he felt his screen crack from the shock, because after he’d begun shouting, and everyone’s voices died in their throats, he picked up on a faint, tiny sound. His audio input closely listened to a rhythm that he’d heard many other times before, and it always pulled painfully at his wires, without fail.

He interrupted his scolding to look for the source, and shook in horror when he realized that it came from the broom closet. Those same hiccups and sniffles that had tried to make themselves unheard, many, too many, times.

You’d started crying out of fear.

He was so far gone that he inadvertently scared you almost to death.

No. Not you. Not because of him.

Not when you still haven’t had the chance to meet him.

A painful reminder of his past actions, of his horrible mistakes, how he’d caged those who just wanted to help him, how he’d drawn them away, in an effort to keep them from slipping out of his grasp.

Tenna eventually would have told everyone to shut up, because if you had run all the way here just to be in peace for a while, you certainly hadn’t enjoyed all the staff talking about you in such a spiteful way.

So, when he approached the door, he gave a good look at the entire crowd, hoping to coax them into not making a single peep. He held his hands together to stop them from reaching at the door, knowing that it wouldn’t have helped. You needed him to be calm right now. You needed to be calm, right now.

“Hey…”

You gasped in shock. Tenna was very close to the door after all.

“It’s okay! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you… again…… It seems like I can’t do anything right when it comes to you, haha.”

You didn’t answer.

“I know that I got angry before, but you don’t have to worry anymore. We’re all friends here and we’ve been waiting for so long to meet you.”

…

“I should have known that loud noises upset you. I’m sorry.”

Another gasp. Quieter than the first.

“I don’t think… you can recognize me, but we know each other. We’re— you told me that we could have been friends, remember?”

Something shifted inside the room.

Tenna called out your name, hopingly.

“It’s me. Do you remember when you asked if I had a name, and I showed you the clips, and you asked me what the ant cartoon was for?”

Sounds of steps.

“And when you-” No, you performed in your bedroom when you still didn’t know he was alive. “And when you asked me what my favorite season was, and I told you autumn because it’s when people start to stay inside more for the cold?” He recounted your preference in pristine detail.

“I… think I saw you, some days ago. I wasn’t sure,”

I scared you even in that instance.

“but I don’t know if you remember, you probably thought it was a dream.”

“…Tenna…?” The faintest sound from your timid voice.

“Yes! It’s me, I’m here. I’m sorry for what happened. I know that this looks unbelievable to you. This place, the people, this world, heck even lil’ old me! But I promise you that no one will hurt you here. You can relax when you’re with us.”

When you’re with me.

He interpreted the silence as you taking your time to decide.

“Come on, sweetheart. Please open the door. You’re not alone, you’re gonna be okay.”

You sniffled again, before Tenna heard furniture being moved inside the room, calmy. The wait was killing him and fraying all of his good wires.

You finally opened the broom closet, letting the light come in and using your hands to rub your pretty little eyes, stained by tears. You abruptly stopped when you visibly registered the pair of bent knees that was right at your eye level. He, too, having your small frame as a reference, realized just now how tall he’d gotten. Tenna was crouching slightly to avoid bumping into the corridor ceiling, and was aiding himself with both hands, one close to his head, and the other pressing on the top corner of the closet doorframe. What do you know, trying to keep his hands to himself didn’t work in the end.

You frankly looked lost.

“Uhm… my nose is up here.”

You tilted your head up, and up, and up, and up, gazes finally meeting. Tenna couldn’t hold back a warm smile, wobbling his lips in the process, while you on the other hand, seemed flabbergasted. He called your name again, more fondly.

“Hi.” Nothing he could have said could have expressed the many feelings running through his circuits.

“…hi.” And it looked like you weren’t faring any differently either.

That or you were probably wondering why the CEO of his studios couldn’t even walk around in them without breaking his neck. The television took a deep breath to calm himself down, to let the fact that you wouldn’t have disappeared out of thin air sink in, and slowly reverted to a more comfortable height.

“Now this is so much better. How are you feeling?” He mentally punched himself in the screen for asking such a thing, because the face you’d made in reaction to him shrinking was…questionable, to say the least. He knew that no human nor monster could do this, but he just wished that you wouldn’t be so thrown off by something that he struggled to control. Not when you needed to relax.

“I…” You sighed. “I don’t know…better? I guess?”

“Oh! That’s great to hear! There’s so many things I wan-“

“Sorry for…the cart.” Your voice had barely been audible, but he picked up on it regardless.

“Aw, sweetheart, it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean to. I’m sorry for overlooking your dislike for loud noises. It’s my fault, really.”

Tenna crouched on one knee, and while you were a bit lost in the moment taking in his appearance, he took out a small (to him at least) handkerchief from his breast pocket. You recoiled the moment you saw his hand approaching your face, you even backed off a few steps, and his fingers clutched the fabric in guilt.

“It’s……it’s just a handkerchief, it’s okay. I just wanted to wipe your cheeks.”

You immediately touched your face to check, sensing the wet streaks under your fingertips, and looked at him, clearly unsure on what to do.

“Here, you can take it if you want to. If you’d rather do it yourself.” He had to force himself to get that sentence out. It stung, knowing that you didn’t even want to be touched. Did he really scare you this much?

When he handed it over to you, thumb and index holding the sheet for you to take, you hesitantly grabbed it with your entire palm, careful on avoiding his glove. And just like that, you wiped your face using the tissue as basically a towel. You sniffled, but didn’t let yourself blow your nose on it. Where you worried about making it dirty?

Tenna simply admired your effort, when you’d stretched your trembling limb to pass the handkerchief to him once more, your grip firm nonetheless to keep it from falling on the floor.

“Thank you…” You looked away. You could raise your voice, you didn’t have to sound like you didn’t have the right to stay here.

“Don’t mention it. Now! Where were we…? AH! GOLLY! How could I forget?!?”

He stood up, his gaze briefly landing on the tremendously shocked face of the janitor. Yes you were at the wrong place at the wrong time buddy, he’ll be sure to give you some points to make you feel better!

Tenna had planned an entire performance, confetti flying around, lights turning and flashing, triumphant music and all, but due to this little incident, there was simply not enough time. The studios would have closed in almost an hour or so. What to do, what to do…

He moved the fingers that had cupped the edge of his screen, to point one index to the sky, while his antennas shoot upwards. He still had that VHS, and you would have loved it, oh yes, you would have liked it all the same!

“Mike, can you prepare Stage 2 for a presentation? I know that the display wasn’t in the schedule, but we’ll have to make do for the lack of time. Then you can all go home.”

Mike nodded and immediately rushed to work. The screen was pretty big after all, to be visible across the hall, but he was sure Mike was up to the task. He would have done it himself, considering the height advantage, but Tenna absolutely needed to take some time to fix some things in his office, now that you were finally here.

He turned to you expectantly. His idea was to grab your hand and guide you himself, but he knew that it probably wouldn’t have worked now, thanks to his outburst.

“I was planning to show you something. You don’t have to come if you’re tired, and I imagine that you are, but I had this thing organized for you, and I think taking your mind off things for a few minutes would be good for you. Whaddya say?”

Did you struggle this much with eye contact? He wasn’t complaining before, considering that looking at any part of his screen, changing your focus on the details, was the norm. But you often looked at his chest or mouth, if you weren’t turning your head away entirely. Maybe in the light world it was different because you saw him as a sentient television only. After all, he didn’t know how you behaved outside the house, with people besides your mother that weren’t him.

“Okay…” Tsk, your voice was hoarse from crying. That just meant that he had to find the biggest water cooler in the studio for you later.

“Perfect!” Um…”

Tenna offered his much bigger palm to you.

“Do… you want me to take you there? It’s Stage 2, it isn’t far, but— we wouldn’t want you to get uh… lost again.”

Of course you didn’t want to take his hand. It was hotter because he was stressed and you were scared and tired and you were so small compared to him of course you were still frightened just like with the handkerchief why did he ask you you could just simply follow him instead of—

The fabric of his glove shifted to welcome the tiniest hand he’d ever held in his life. Well, everyone was small to him, but when it came to you, you just felt…shy, minute, as if you were trying to occupy less space with every action of yours. Your fingers twitched slightly, and he treasured them in his own, gently reciprocating the hold.

“Okay.”

Tenna snickered quietly. You were so cute.

“Alright! Fans of real entertainment! This way, please!”

His stride started off slow, to let you follow him with little effort, but then he stopped for a second, pulling your hand closer to him while looking at the crowd.

“And everyone! Put this cart back back in place and you can consider yourselves dismissed for today! Have a good night’s rest and see you tomorrow!”

And the crowd dispersed, as if nothing had ever happened at all.