Write My Name in the Sand

2: the stairwell

(sorry if the writing isn't the best, i'm just dealing with some stuff right now so this book will get better in the future. also, just to clarify: i haven't really figured out the timeline of the story yet, but it takes place sometime between episode 10 and 11)

Paintbrush couldn't help but feel left out, despite it being their birthday.

Lightbulb and her tendency to go off chasing butterflies or whatever and get distracted by the smallest things felt like it had dragged them through the entire hotel. The sun had disappeared below the horizon, the sky a pink, grey and purple flurry of clouds, and little water droplets fell from time to time. The only other people that had interacted with them outside of a mumbled greeting and handing them their present had been Test Tube and Fan.

Now they were sitting on the floor by a window, as Knife, Pickle, Soap, and Bomb had claimed the couch for themselves.

"Lightbulb", Paintbrush started before taking a deep breath. Lightbulb was fiddling with the two party hats that she was wearing - one of which Paintbrush had graciously donated to her - but hearing her name immediately caught her attention, and she gave them a gentle nod to signal that she was ready to hear the rest of the sentence.

Paintbrush hesitated. "I feel... I don't know, like a lost puppy following you around."

Lightbulb propped her elbow up on Box, who was sitting beside them, a curious expression on her face. She grinned at the comparison. "What do you mean? You're the birthday person, this day should be all about you."

"It's just..." They curled up into a ball, looking up at the ceiling as partygoers chatted around them. "Everyone is either scared of me or hates me, because of my temper. I feel like they like you better than me, and I'm just following you around to feed off of your popularity. I don't want them to be scared."

Lightbulb seemed puzzled. "I'm not scared of you, Painty."

Now they were just getting irritated. They hated being misunderstood. They cared about Lightbulb, they really did, but sometimes she was just so...

"Everyone's been so avoidant, like they don't really like me. I know she's sick, but even Marshmallow stayed home." They anxiously reached out a hand and placed it close to Lightbulb, on the floor. "You've been wandering away from me all day. I expected you to want to spend all your time with me, since we haven't been together in so long."

Lightbulb raised an eyebrow. "You think Marsh's faking to get out of going to the party?"

"Why don't you-" Paintbrush caught themself raising their voice, and inhaled deeply before continuing again. "-...get it?"

Lightbulb put down her hand aswell, nearing Paintbrush's. "Well, I get that you feel left out. Feared. Ignored." She stopped to get Paintbrush's reaction, and continued once they gave her a little nod. "I don't really... notice that kind of stuff. I see everyone as equals. Every time someone's mean to me, I just pretend they aren't, and then they stop."

Trophy tried to wave Lightbulb over from the other side of the room. Paintbrush grimaced and retracted their hand in jealousy.

"Can you promise me that you'll stay by my side tonight?" Paintbrush asked, crossing their arms.

"Of course I will, Painty!" Lightbulb scooted over to Paintbrush, and just as she was about to put her arm around them, she let out a dramatic gasp. "I need to check on Baxter! Who knows if anyone got into your hotel room?!"

She took off running, dazzling colors from the discoball reflecting on her glassy yellow complexion, leaving Paintbrush alone, disappointed, and angry.

They began to trudge up the stairs, making their way to the rooftop. They were already isolated on the first floor, but up on the roof, they could at least get the soothing silence that came along with being ignored, and make an attempt to clear their head.