✮ Rockstar ✮ || A Lightbrush Fanfiction

Chapter 27 - Note

Paintbrush re-read the note from their present over and over again in their head. It had been almost a week, and they still couldn't figure out why their mom wrote it.

"Dear Paintbrush,

    Merry Christmas honey. I hope you like the presents I got you. I asked Neon to pick them up and bring them over for you. I know you wanted to have your Christmas with your friends instead of us. If that is how you wish it to be, then very well. I love you.

-Pastel Canvas"

Why has she been avoiding me so much? Paintbrush sighed in frustration and crumpled the note in their fist for the fifth time. They observed their popcorn ceiling, trying to spot patterns like they did when they were younger. They racked their mind on why their mother sounded so sincere in the letter. They just didn't get it; why would she bring all the presents over instead of asking them to come home?

"Paintbrush?" A voice called gently, snapping them out of their trance. They sat straight up and hurriedly shoved the note in their pocket. Their door creaked open to reveal their mother.

Something was different about her. Her eyes were brighter than normal, or her smile was nicer, they couldn't think of exactly what. It's all just in my head. It's Mom. What does she want? She never comes up here unless I'm getting in trouble.

Pastel took a few steps into their room, looking around like it was the first time she'd been in there. They had done some rearranging recently with Lightbulb over FaceTime, so they couldn't blame her.

"Can we talk for a moment?" They held their breath. Shit, what did she find?

"U-uhm, yeah, sure," they said nervously. They scooted over to make space for their mom on their bed. She nodded her head in thanks and sat next to them.

"You know," she started glancing up at them, "LED called me earlier. She said Lightbulb was going to a New Year's party and she was begging you to come. Did you not get any of her messages?"

Paintbrush was surprised at her casual nature. She didn't seem hostile or anything. "Huh? Oh, uhm, no, I didn't," they responded, reaching for their phone. They pressed the on button, but the screen didn't light up. They tried again, but it didn't turn on.

"Oh, must be dead," they murmured, reaching for the charger and plugging it in. "So, why'd you come up here? Just felt like finding something to yell at me for?"

"I..." their mother didn't respond for a moment. They turned back, expecting to see an offended expression, but she looked almost shocked. Not in an angry way; more like she'd received upsetting news. Which, in a way, she just did.

She sighed and gazed down at their wooden floor, "That's... actually what I wanted to talk about." She glanced up at them again, a look of disappointment in her eyes. "Is there anything you want to tell me, Paintbrush?"

"No, Mom, I'm fine." They messed with their cold rings on their fingers, the sensation somewhat taking their attention away from the situation.

"No you're not," Pastel murmured, "I know you're not. LED told me you weren't on Christmas Eve."

They tensed up. What else could LED have told her? "...What did she say?"

"She told me her first impressions of you. The way you tensed up when she hugged you, how you were a bit confused at her hospitality and acceptance. She asked why. I didn't know at the time, but I've done some thinking on it the past few days."

"I'm a bad mother, aren't I?"

Paintbrush felt their heart skip a beat. They'd never expected to hear that, especially from their mother herself. They turned back to her, "Wh-what? No! You're-"