"Hold on, that's quite an accusation," Alan muttered to himself, feeling irritated by Chosen's words. He didn't create them just to witness their suffering! With a furrowed brow, Alan thought, "That's not—oh, Chosen," he interrupted his own thoughts, facepalming in exasperation. He lifted his head, finding Chosen fixed on the cursor, awaiting his response. He then looked down, scuffing his feet in a manner reminiscent of Second.

[That's not true] Alan typed out. Chosen glanced back up before lowering his gaze once more.

[I see] Chosen responded, running a hand over his face, expressing a sense of defeat. Alan let out a melancholic sigh. "How do I explain this to Chosen? Ugh, this is hard," Alan muttered to himself, giving his cheeks a light slap in an attempt to gather his thoughts, only to notice Chosen walking away, looking disheartened. Alan straightened up, calling out, "Wait," as he maneuvered his cursor to intercept Chosen.

Chosen skidded to a stop and tilted his head quizzically. [Wait, hold on], Alan typed, managing to draw the notepad closer to Chosen once again. [Why?] Chosen asked, placing a hand on his waist.

[I'm sorry, I'm not really good with this, but trust me, I didn't make you both just to see you suffer. I care about you two] Alan typed, surprised by his own words. "I'm not writing fanfiction, am I..." Alan's voice trailed off. (Alan don't break the 4th wall..)

Chosen froze at Alan's words, then looked down, appearing suddenly shy. [I see. It will take time for us to believe that. Sorry], Chosen responded. Alan let out a melancholic sigh.

He understood where Chosen was coming from; what happened all those years ago was truly beyond their control. Perhaps if Chosen also shared his side, things could improve. Alan frowned, feeling empathy for the black stick figure.

[It's okay. What can I do to help you and Dark believe it?] Alan asked earnestly, typing swiftly.

Chosen looked up at Alan, tapping his chin before shaking his head. [Sorry, I don't know, maybe stay?] Chosen suggested. Alan scratched his head, a bit perplexed. "Stay? As in here? I don't get it," Alan muttered to himself, tapping his chin in thought.

Feeling flustered and embarrassed at the fact that he couldn't understand it, Alan decided to simply agree.

[Okay, I won't leave, not that I could, I mean], Alan typed, hoping to elicit a chuckle from Chosen. But Chosen remained unfazed by the attempted humor.

[Okay, thank you, go to sleep now], Chosen instructed, waving a hand. Alan chuckled softly to himself, finding it amusing that a stick figure was telling him to sleep. "Alright, good night," Alan said, even though Chosen couldn't hear him.

For a moment, Alan stared at the black stick figure as he retreated behind the folder, probably to rest as well. Alan then shut down his PC and settled into bed. "Mhmm," Alan hummed as he rolled around for a moment before reaching to his bedside to switch off the lamp.

"Alan... Alan!" DJ shook Alan, who snapped out of his thoughts in surprise. "What's got you so tired, man? You look like you went through hell," DJ remarked, taking a bite of his hotdog. Alan blinked wearily at DJ before glancing down at his own half-eaten hotdog. "Just had a hard time sleeping, that's all," Alan mumbled, taking another small bite.

DJ frowned, eyebrows raised. "That's strange, you love sleeping," DJ pointed out. Alan simply shrugged. "Just honestly too tired to even sleep. I don't know how that makes sense, it just does," Alan explained with a hint of boredom in his voice, observing the pigeons milling around them, eyeing their food.

"Okay, how's college going for you?" DJ inquired with a grin. Alan turned to DJ and shrugged before taking another bite of his food. "Good, managed to learn a lot of stuff, you know," Alan replied, a faint smile crossing his face.

"That's great. How about your secret job, which is not so secret anymore since Aunty already knows what you do in your free time, which you don't have, by the way," DJ snarked, causing Alan to shoot him an annoyed glare. "Solid burn, man," Alan said with a frown, then turned his attention back to the pigeons.

DJ pouted and lightly elbowed Alan on the side with a smirk. "Come on! What's got you down?" DJ prodded. Alan sighed and set aside the wrap around his hotdog.

"DJ, hypothetically, what do you do when someone you had fought with comes back and wants you to make amends? And when you ask them how, they simply say 'stay'?" Alan questioned, turning to DJ.

"Man, is that still hypothetical or is it really happening to you?" DJ inquired, pointing out the seriousness of the situation. Alan huffed and playfully pushed DJ.

"You're no help," Alan grumbled before being playfully pushed back by DJ. "Hey, you can't just push me around! I could've dropped my hotdog!" DJ protested with a mock pout, taking another bite of his food, their squabble momentarily forgotten as they sat in silence, surrounded by the ambient noise of the park.

"Well, I guess that means they want you to stay close to them? Or maybe keep talking to them, I guess? I don't know the circumstances of that fight, so it might not be the right advice," DJ offered, trying to decipher the situation.

Alan hummed in acknowledgment. "I see..." he responded, adjusting his glasses and reclining on the bench. "You see what? You can't see with those thick glasses," DJ teased, earning a side glance and a glare from Alan. "Can't beat honesty, bro. I should start calling you a bat," DJ joked with a grin before his expression suddenly changed, his eyes widening as he pointed at Alan's side.

"Alan! Your hotdog!" DJ exclaimed, alarmed, as Alan turned to witness his hotdog being snatched away by a daring pigeon, only to be intercepted by another bird. The hotdog tumbled to the ground where a flock of pigeons quickly gathered around it.

"Bro..." Alan muttered, dropping his head into his hands in defeat, while DJ burst into laughter beside him, thoroughly amused by the unexpected turn of events.

-O-

Alan groaned in frustration as he rotated his wrist once more, a cry of pain escaping his lips. "Stupid, stupid! Stupid wrist, stupid body!" Tears streamed down his cheeks as he twisted on his bed, gasping in agony. Curling into himself, he clutched his arm tightly, trying to find some relief from the tingling and shooting pain that radiated from his wrist to his fingertips, causing them to grow numb.

"Oh god," Alan cursed through gritted teeth, shifting to his other side and tucking his hand between his legs, hoping to alleviate the pain. Tears continued to fall as he took shaky breaths, the pain overwhelming him.

After a while, the intensity of the pain began to diminish, though his fingertips remained numb. Alan sighed in relief as he slowly released his hand from its cramped position, letting it drop to his side with an "Ouch" escaping his lips. The sudden onset of pain had caught him off guard.

Realization dawned on him; he should have noticed the warning signs earlier. But Alan had been so engrossed in his drawing, with Second by his side to help the process.

Eventually the pain became unbearable, that he decided to take a break from his desk and lay down, hoping to endure the discomfort.

Wiping away the tears from his cheeks, Alan carefully sat up, muttering a curse under his breath as he reached for the wrist brace from his bed side and secured it around his right hand.

Alan winced slightly as he secured the wrist brace tightly. "There," he said, breathing a sigh of relief. While the brace restricted the movement of his hand, it provided much-needed relief from the pain. Alan knew that wearing it would likely help his wrist feel better by tomorrow or later tonight.

Slowly rising from his bed, Alan stumbled over to his chair with a tired exhale. He noticed Second sitting at the program, moving his head from side to side in anticipation, tapping his hand on his knees to create a rhythm.

"Aw," Alan remarked with a smile as he watched Second trying to create a beat for himself. Pulling his chair closer, Alan positioned a text box next to Second, using only one hand to type. [Hey, sorry for disappearing suddenly, something came up], Alan typed out.

Second perked up, swiftly standing. [It's okay! Do you want to continue?] Second responded, bringing out his pencil again, tapping his foot excitedly at the bottom of the program.

For a moment, Alan frowned, his gaze shifting to his wrist. [Not now, can you continue it for me?] he typed, feeling a pang of embarrassment at having to ask Second to take over the animation work that Alan was being compensated for. It didn't sit right with him. Alan reflected sadly, a sense of guilt churning in his stomach. He watched as Second slumped slightly before nodding. [Okay, I can do it. We're almost finished anyway. Are you leaving?] Second inquired.

"Leave?" Alan muttered to himself, puzzled by where Second got that idea. What had prompted that assumption? Alan wondered. [No, still here. I'm going to watch you. I just have some things to take care of, but I'm still here, don't worry] Alan reassured, sensing the relief in Second's reaction as he perked up, as if Alan had just given him the best birthday present ever.

[Oh okay! Gotcha!] Second replied, focusing on sketching the final slide. "Huh, what's that all about?" Alan mumbled to himself, leaning back in his chair and pushing it slightly away, propping his feet up on the desk and resting his wrist on his stomach. Humming to himself, Alan observed as the orange stick figure took shape on the screen, while he idly scrolled through his phone, browsing through Facebook.

A silent chuckle escaped him at some amusing posts before switching to reels and watching random cat videos. "Cute," Alan remarked, liking a particular video, before a thump from his monitor caught his attention. Raising his head, he noticed Second trying to get his attention. The last slide was already completed.

"Woah, that's fast!" Alan exclaimed, surprised, as he pulled his chair closer, rolling it back towards the desk.

[I'm done!] Second exclaimed, hopping excitedly. ["Awesome! You're so amazing, Second"] Alan typed out, praising the orange stick. Second suddenly halted his hopping, freezing in place before nervously tapping his hand stubs together. "Is... Second getting shy or something?" Alan pondered with a laugh, observing as Second scratched the back of his head bashfully.

["Thank you, Sec. You did great, I love your work"] Alan expressed through the text. Second continued to scratch his head, appearing even more embarrassed before swiftly jumping out of the program and darting into a folder, stumbling slightly before disappearing inside.

"I-" Alan started, a puzzled expression on his face before bursting into laughter. Who would have thought that Second could feel embarrassed? Alan marveled at the unexpected display of emotion, saving the animation and storing it in his personal folder. "Ahh, Second is so cute," Alan giggled, charmed by this new side of Second.

He hadn't been vocal about his appreciation for Second. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. It wasn't his nature to outright express gratitude; usually, Alan showed his appreciation through actions. However, since Second and the others relied on words, they couldn't truly understand how much Alan valued them without him verbalizing it. Another sigh escaped him as he pushed himself back, stretching his good arm.

"How about a tub of ice cream," Alan pondered to himself, recalling the tub of ice cream DJ had bought for him the day before. "Hmm, maybe," Alan said with a shrug as he stood up, feeling excited at the thought of indulging in some chocolate ice cream.

"Alan, is your hand hurting again?" Jennifer inquired, her gaze fixed on the wristband adorning Alan's wrist. Alan glanced down and nodded in acknowledgment. "We really need to go to the doctors for that, you know. You can't keep letting this happen. What if it gets worse, and they have to do something drastic like operate on your other hand?" Jennifer remarked with a teasing grin. Alan pouted in response. "That's not true. It just hurts because I've been drawing for hours," he explained.

Jennifer's expression turned serious as she frowned. "I understand that you're busy with selling your art, but you know you don't have to push yourself so hard, right? I can handle other things. You have college, and we can't risk you injuring your hand," Jennifer insisted, her hand gently running through Alan's tangled locks. Alan closed his eyes, allowing her to ruffle his hair, and he offered a smile tinged with pain.

Jennifer smoothed down his hair with a smile before suggesting, "Let's eat? I made your favorite." Jennifer sang, and Alan perked up, grinning. "Heck yeah!" Alan cheered, pumping his fist with his good hand, only to have his cheek pinched again. "Language!" Jennifer chided playfully. "It's just heck, Mom!" Alan protested, rubbing his cheek with a pout.

Second rubbed his face, feeling embarrassed, before stomping his foot on the ground and crossing his arms, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Why are you so embarrassed that Alan complimented you?" Red inquired, scratching his head as he placed Reuben down beside his leg. Second shook his head and huffed. "Nothing... it's just that he rarely does that, I guess," Second explained, scratching his head, a pang of emotion hitting his chest.

Beside him, Red tilted his head, puzzled. "What do you mean? You and Alan have known each other for probably a year. He never complimented you before?" Red questioned, trying to understand.

"I mean, he does! It's just... it's hard to know if he means it. But now he said it twice, and I'm just flustered," Second admitted with a whine before feeling a comforting pat on his back. Red shook his head with amusement. "Man, I feel bad for you," he remarked with a chuckle.

Second turned to Red and playfully punched his shoulder before crossing his arms, adopting a petulant stance. "Imagine getting flustered because your dad complimented your work," Red teased with a laugh. "He's not my dad!" Second retorted, feeling embarrassed and waving his arms around in panic. "Sure, Sec, tell yourself that," Red teased back, wiping a fake tear from his face.

Stomping his feet on the floor, Second exclaimed, "Stop teasing me! That's it, bye!" He turned around and walked away, hearing Red chuckling behind him. "Okay, bye, Second!" Red called out cheerfully, waving his arms. Second responded with a gesture that conveyed 'I don't care' as he stomped back inside his Minecraft house, crashing on his bed with a sigh.

As Second lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, he let out a breath and crossed his arms. "He's not my dad, he's just my creator...," Second muttered with a pout before turning to his side and curling his legs closer to his chest.

There was still a tinge of anger lingered within him for not being informed about Chosen and Dark. Additionally, a hint of jealousy crept in as he realized he wasn't Alan's first creation.

Second paused, his thoughts swirling before he slapped a hand to his face. "I'm not jealous!" Second asserted to himself, irritated, slapping his head again in frustration. He repeated to himself that he wasn't jealous or disappointed, but deep down, he wished Alan had shared more with him. Second let out a heavy sigh and buried his head in his pillow, feeling a wave of despondency wash over him.

"Alan never tells me anything. If anything, I'm just his drawing partner and nothing more... 'Dad,' my ass..." Second muttered, disappointment evident in his voice. At times, he yearned for a closer bond with Alan, hoping for a relationship that isn't just about art, maybe there was something more that they could talk about? Despite what the others said about their supposed close connection, Second struggled to perceive the depth of that bond.

In reality, Alan barely engaged with him beyond discussions about art, drawing, or the occasional game of Solitaire. Their interactions remained surface-level, lacking the depth and intimacy that Second craved. He felt a pang of longing for more meaningful conversations and shared experiences with Alan, wishing their relationship could evolve beyond mere collaboration.

he couldn't shake the feeling of being abandoned by Alan for extended times. What took Alan's attention that was more important than their relationship? Second's mind raced before he shook his head to dispel the unwelcome thought. After all, Alan never placed him on a pedestal; he was simply his "drawing partner," a term Alan had used.

Given Alan's potential responsibilities and family, he understood he played a minor role in Alan's life. He buried his face more into the pillow, disappointed and sad. "I wish I wasn't just a stick figure. "I wish I could see Alan," Second murmured, frustration in his voice.

His frustration intensified, and he clenched his fists, pumping one in the air in a burst of anger. "Why am I even acting like this? I'm not a child! I'm 18! 18!" Second reminded himself, trying to dispel his feelings of v̶u̶l̶n̶e̶r̶a̶b̶i̶l̶i̶t̶y̶ a̶n̶d̶ l̶o̶n̶g̶i̶n̶g̶.

Exhaling deeply, Second let his hand fall back onto the bed. "Man, I wish what Red said was right," he murmured before closing his eyes, hoping that sleep would eventually envelop him, providing a temporary respite from his emotional turmoil.

Alan slumped back down in his chair with a sigh, rolling it closer to his monitor. His expression soured slightly upon not seeing Second around. Disappointment flickered in his eyes as he leaned back, scratching his head. "Ah, Second's probably resting now," Alan mused with a sigh. "I shouldn't have made him embarrassed; didn't realize he hates being complimented," he chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.

"That's so adorable," Alan remarked, a smile spreading across his face before he opened Solitaire.

For a while, Alan repeated the game several times before deciding to switch to Google and play Tetris instead. "Hmm," Alan hummed to himself as he achieved yet another high score, surpassing Green's previous record. With a satisfied smile, he remarked, "Take that, Green! Let's see if you can top that."

Alan then playfully tapped his desk and leaned back, a sense of accomplishment evident on his face. He knew that Green would likely be irritated upon discovering that his high score had been bested by Alan.

"Let's see if he can beat that," Alan chuckled before opening a new tab and navigating to YouTube. He idly scrolled through the video feed before settling on a random gameplay video to watch. As the video played, Alan stretched both his arms, being mindful of his right hand, and let out a contented sigh of relief.

-O-

"Dark, how about you take a break and rest for a bit?" Chosen suggested, observing his friend slumped over his desk before wearily lifting his head to look at him.

"Yeah, in a moment. Just need to sort this out," Dark mumbled, his gaze fixed on the TV on his desk. "You can always do that tomorrow. Second and the others aren't pressuring you to finish it quickly," Chosen pointed out, tilting his head.

Dark shot him a sidelong glance before nodding and pushing himself up. "Fine, fine, I hear you, Mom," Dark retorted sarcastically, a smirk playing on his lips as he walked past Chosen and flopped down on the nearby sofa.

"Seriously? You're not going to sleep in your own room?" Chosen asked, irritation evident as he placed his hands on his hips. He watched as Dark threw his legs up on the sofa, letting out a relieved sigh. "Too lazy, just let me be," Dark drawled, covering his face with an arm.

"Why are you so stubborn, Dark? Go to bed," Chosen insisted, moving closer and shaking Dark's shoulder in an attempt to get him to move.

Dark remained unmoved, keeping his arm in place until Chosen gave him a firm nudge, prompting Dark to lower his arm and shoot him a glare. "Stop pestering me. Why are you so irritating?" Dark complained, thumping his leg on the sofa like a child throwing a tantrum.

"Good grief," Chosen sighed, his face in his palm. "Why are you so fixated on returning to the computer? Don't think I haven't noticed you using the TV as an excuse to come back," Chosen questioned, his tone tinged with frustration.

Dark halted his mock tantrum and turned to Chosen with a sheepish expression. "What do you mean?" Dark asked, attempting to divert the conversation with an awkward chuckle, but Chosen only glared back at him, exhaling deeply.

"Is this about Second?" Chosen inquired, to which Dark remained silent. "Or is it about Alan?" Chosen pressed, and Dark weakly met his gaze with a glare. "So, it's about Alan. What are you up to? Don't tell me it's something reckless again. I don't want you causing trouble for those kids once more!" Chosen admonished.

Dark rolled his eyes. "They're not kids anymore, Cho. They're probably 18 or 19. Stop treating them like children," Dark groaned, eliciting a sharp glare from Chosen. Dark could sense that Chosen was on the verge of scolding him if he hadn't flashed a forced smile at him.

"Then what's the deal? Are you intending to cause trouble for Alan again?" Chosen questioned, crossing his arms.

"What?! No! Do you really think I would do that again?" Dark retorted, sitting up with a frown.

Chosen's expression remained stern, prompting Dark to groan in frustration. "Fine, I messed up once, but never again! And yes, I do want to return to the computer for Alan, but not for nefarious reasons! I just... I just want to talk to him, okay?" Dark admitted, his voice wavering as he stared down at his lap, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Chosen's glare softened as he lowered his arms. "Oh... I see. Are you planning to ask him something?" Chosen inquired, tilting his head before sitting beside Dark and offering a comforting rub on his back.

"I... I don't know... I just want to talk. It's difficult to understand that man, you know. I want to know what my true purpose is. It can't just be to harm or terrorize people," Dark expressed, turning to Chosen with a troubled expression.

"Second helped me see things differently, but in doing so, I've lost my sense of purpose. Inflicting pain on others is what I excel at. That's what Alan created me for... Now, I feel lost," Dark confessed, his gaze dropping to his lap.

Chosen observed him quietly before reaching out to grasp Dark's arm and embracing him tightly. "Oh, Dark, it's okay. We'll figure it out together, one step at a time," Chosen reassured him, rubbing Dark's back gently.

"Okay, I trust you and Second," Dark murmured as he buried his head against Chosen's neck.

"I know," Chosen replied with a soft chuckle, offering his support to his friend in need.

"Huh," Alan muttered, perplexed as he scratched his ear, annoyed by the random itching sensation. "Ugh," he groaned in frustration, awkwardly attempting to reach his right ear, mindful of his injured hand that couldn't scratch it. Resorting to his left hand, he contorted into an odd position, resembling a monkey trying to scratch its own back.

"Why does it have to be my right ear?" Alan complained as he continued to scratch the back of his ear, uncertain of the exact location of the itch.

-O-

Alan let out a groan as his vision blurred, the screen in front of him doubling. "No, I can't be sick now," he muttered, feeling his eyes burning and unsure if it was from hours in front of the screen or a raging fever.

"Mom said I should rest... but this commission is worth a lot. I need to finish this," Alan insisted with a frown, forcing himself to look back at the monitor.

The blinding white light intensified, causing a throbbing ache in his head. "Ugh," Alan groaned, turning away as the pain worsened. He closed his eyes and leaned back, trying to regulate his breathing. Every glance at the screen made his stomach churn, fearing he might accidentally vomit on his desk and monitor.

"Just breathe in, breathe out," Alan coached himself, turning back to the monitor and picking up his pen. In his peripheral vision, he noticed Second sitting patiently, waiting for him to return.

[I'm back] Alan typed, his eyes still slightly blurry, causing him to pause and then bury his face in the crook of his arms. After a moment, he exhaled and looked up, seeing Second looking puzzled.

[Sorry, what was that? I didn't catch it, I'm sorry] Alan typed, and Second shook his head before repeating his message. [I asked if you were okay. What happened?] Second inquired, tilting his head and tapping his chin to convey his concern.

"Oh, you're worried about me. How sweet," Alan chuckled to himself, finding solace in Second's concern, which lifted his spirits slightly amid his discomfort.

"[Nothing is wrong, don't worry]," Alan reassured, hoping to ease Second's concern, realizing that Second had more important matters to focus on than his fever.

Second stared at the text before shaking his head in frustration, accusing Alan, [You're lying, you're not telling me anything at all!]

"Why are you getting angry? There's no need to worry about me," Alan sighed, crossing his arms, unsure of how to handle the situation. He didn't want Second to be overly concerned about him.

Frustrated with the escalating tension, Alan cursed inwardly, observing Second standing there, visibly upset and clenching his fists. "He looks really angry," Alan noted, feeling a pang of hurt and sadness.

[Hey, relax, it's really nothing. How about we take a break for now?] Alan suggested in his response. Second stared at him before walking away, leaving Alan bewildered.

"What? Hey, that's really rude!" Alan protested with a pout as he watched Second stride towards a folder, each step marked with an angry stomp.

"Sec..." Alan began to say before coughing into his fist, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. Placing a hand on his forehead, he wondered if he had a fever but shook his head, struggling to discern any changes in his temperature. Dizziness overwhelmed him, signaling that he really needed to lie down.

Stumbling to his feet, Alan made his way to his bed and collapsed onto it with a groan as his headache worsened. Remembering Second, he muttered, "Ugh, he's completely furious for no reason. What's going on with Second?" Alan groaned, laying on his back with an arm over his face, the coolness of his skin providing a slight relief to his feverish face.

"Later... I'll talk to that guy. I don't know what's wrong with him," Alan mumbled, his vision blurring before he closed his eyes, succumbing to unconsciousness and passing out.

"Second, what's got your panties in a twist?" Green remarked, observing the orange stick slam a raw steak inside the furnace, his annoyance evident as he crossed his arms.

"Nothing, just nothing, and that's the problem! He never tells me anything!" Second ranted, surprising Green, who raised his arms in defense. "Woah, woah, hold on, what did I even do?!" Green asked, taken aback by Second's sudden outburst.

Taking a moment to collect himself, Second exhaled heavily before letting out a tired sigh and slumping.

"Sorry... Didn't mean to take out my anger on you," Second said, rubbing his face wearily. Green lowered his arm, tilting his head in understanding. "It's okay. I shouldn't have joked like that, especially knowing you were having a tough time," Green apologized as he approached Second and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

Second looked down, shaking his head. "Still, I'm sorry..." he trailed off.

Green looked at Second for a moment before exhaling. "So, if you don't mind me asking, what happened? Did you get in a fight with anyone? Wait, is it Red?" Green inquired, crossing his arms as if suspecting the red stick to be the source of Second's distress.

"No, it's not him. It's Alan," Second responded, retrieving the steak from the furnace and taking a bite, disregarding its steaming heat.

"Alan? That's the last person I thought you would be fighting with," Green remarked, tilting his head in surprise. Second shook his head, "We didn't have a fight. I'm just angry at him," he explained with a huff.

"Why? What's wrong?" Green probed, seeking to understand the root of Second's frustration.

"It's just... He never tells me anything. I feel like I'm missing out so much. Is it because he doesn't see me as an equal? Is it because I'm just a stick figure to him?" Second's tone turned slightly hysterical, expressing his deep-seated concerns and insecurities.

Green flinched in response. "Second... I don't know. I mean, Alan and you, you guys have a special bond, you know? That can't be it," Green reassured, tilting his head in contemplation, trying to offer some comfort and perspective to Second's turmoil.

Second scoffed, "Doubt that. I don't feel it. Nevermind, I don't really care anymore. I don't even understand why I'm so angry," he said wearily, shaking his head in resignation.

"To Alan, I'm just some stick he created. Look, he even created Chosen and Dark without telling me he made them," Second protested, feeling a sense of exclusion and frustration.

Second sighed once more and walked past Green. "Nevermind, I'm just gonna go to sleep," he mumbled, leaving Green looking concerned.

"It's still kinda early. Don't you want to rave with us?" Green asked, a hint of hope in his voice. Second paused for a moment before turning back to Green with a sigh.

"Fine, sure," Second agreed, attempting to inject a bit of enthusiasm into his tone. Green nodded eagerly and grabbed Second's arm, "We'll make this fun for you. Come on!" Green urged, trying to bring some joy and distraction to Second's troubled thoughts.

Alan blinked his eyes open, feeling disoriented and dizzy as he sat up. "What the fu-" Alan began, turning towards his PC that he had left open. Loud music blared from the speakers, accompanied by a riot of colors on the screen. "What's going on?" Alan muttered, his annoyance evident as he rubbed a hand over his face, wincing when he felt his glasses still perched on his nose. He had completely forgotten to take them off before passing out.

Another wince escaped Alan at the loud notes pounding from his monitor. "Ugh, don't tell me they're partying again," Alan groaned, irritated by the impeccable timing of the disturbance. Pushing himself up to sit, he felt even dizzier and more disoriented than before.

For a moment, Alan froze, clutching his stomach as he tried to suppress the urge to vomit on the bed, willing himself to keep his nausea at bay amidst the chaos of loud music and flashing lights. The situation was certainly not helping his state.

After standing up from his bed, Alan walked over to his desk and leaned on his chair, exclaiming, "What the hell, guys.... He groaned, palming his face in frustration as he observed the orange stick running around and playing music, with the rest of the gang joining in with their own instruments. Alan sat heavily in his chair, feeling increasingly unwell.

Opening his notepad and moving it closer to the stick figures, Alan typed in [Guys, I was sleeping. What's all this ruckus?!!] with a sense of urgency, his irritation evident as he struggled with his rising sickness and the overwhelming brightness of the monitor exacerbating his discomfort.

As the stick figures froze and the music ceased, Second noticed Alan's message and responded apologetically, [Alan, I'm sorry. We didn't know you were sleeping], his guilt palpable through the screen.

Alan shook his head wearily with a sigh, already accepting the apology before Second had even explained himself, then a sudden wave of nausea hit him, prompting him to rush towards the bathroom, his body reacting to the stress and sickness.

In his haste, Alan forgot to respond to Second due to the fog in his fevered brain. Second, feeling increasingly anxious and guilty, said [Alan? Are you mad?] and then called out [Alan? Alan? I'm sorry], rubbing his arms nervously as he awaited a response, concerned that he had upset Alan.

"What's wrong? Why isn't he responding?" Yellow inquired, hopping down from the note block and approaching Second, with the others following suit. "I-I don't know! I think he's angry at me!" Second panicked, his anxiety mounting as he feared the worst.

"Whoa, hold on, calm down. Maybe he isn't—" Blue attempted to reassure, but Second's distress escalated. He grabbed his head, breathing rapidly, on the brink of a panic attack. "Second! Second! Calm down," Red intervened, taking hold of Second's shoulder and offering him a comforting hug.

"What if he doesn't come back? Is it my fault? I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Second babbled, tears streaming down his face as he sought solace in Red's embrace.

-O-

"Alan, I told you to rest, and you still went against me," Jennifer said, disappointment evident in her voice as she closed Alan's PC. Alan, lying on the bed, could only groan in response, his eyes welling up from the heat in his face. "S-Sorry, mom... Really thought I could do it," Alan murmured, his words slightly slurred from his exhaustion and fever.

"It's alright. What's important is that you learn. How do you feel? Do you need a bucket close by?" Jennifer asked, sitting beside Alan on the bed, her worry palpable.

Alan closed his eyes and let out a soft hum as his mother placed her cool hand on his forehead. "Your fever is really high right now. We really need to bring it down," Jennifer said, her concern growing as she bit her lip.

"I'm fine, mom. I really just want to sleep. Sorry," Alan slurred, opening one eye to look at his mother, his gaze tired and slightly unfocused amidst the fever-induced haze.

Jennifer's face softened as she caressed Alan's cheek gently. "Oh, Alan, you've been working yourself too hard. I'm getting worried. I don't think you're balancing your work and school well. Look at you, you're falling off the seams," Jennifer remarked, her eyes glistening with concern and a hint of sadness.

Alan blinked, trying to process his mother's words. "Oh... I'm sorry, Mom. I'm trying... sorry," Alan whispered softly before closing his eyes briefly, only to open them a few seconds later.

Jennifer continued to run her hand through his hair, her touch comforting. "Alan, how about taking a break from your commissions, at least for just a few days?" she suggested, her voice tinged with a sense of hope, as she wished for her son to heed her advice and prioritize his well-being over his workload.

Alan looked at his mother and nodded shakily, "M'kay, just 2 days maybe. Second... is waiting for me, mmhmm," he slurred before drifting off to sleep, his words a mix of confusion and exhaustion. Jennifer, momentarily puzzled by his mention of "Second," dismissed it as fever-induced rambling, choosing to focus on her son's well-being instead.

"Sleep well, Alan. I love you so much. Don't forget that," Jennifer whispered affectionately before rising from the bed, silently closing the door behind her. "Love you too, Mom," Alan mumbled sleepily, turning to his side and pulling the covers over himself, his body shivering slightly from the fever.

"Love you too, Sec," Alan murmured once more, his words blending with a yawn as he nestled further under the covers, seeking comfort and rest in the warmth of his bed.

-O-

"Second, maybe it's just a misunderstanding? What if he did something really important?" Red suggested, observing Second pacing in front of him. Second, consumed by frustration, scratched his head angrily and stomped back and forth.

"I-it can't be! No way he would just leave like that. The conversation wasn't even over yet! Admit it, he's actually angry at us," Second cried out, overwhelmed with doubt and self-blame, crouching down and burying his head on his knees in a fit of despair.

"Alan hates me," Second mumbled, his voice filled with self-doubt and sorrow, as Red approached him with visible concern etched on his figure.

"Sec... How about we don't assume things first? Alan really loves you, man. Everyone can see that. I don't know why you can't," Red said gently, kneeling beside Second and offering a comforting pat on his shoulder. Second raised his head, his eyes red and puffy from crying.

"It's really hard to believe that, sorry," Second murmured, his vulnerability laid bare in front of Red.

"Why? You and Alan are like stuck to the hip. What's making you doubt him now?" Red asked, his worry deepening as he tried to understand Second's sudden change in perspective. Second, lost in his thoughts, looked down at his knees and let out a sigh.

"It started with Dark and Chosen... I-I felt like he didn't think I was someone close enough to him to not tell me he made them. I-I don't know... Is it valid for me to be angry at Alan?" Second asked, his embarrassment evident as he stole a glance at Red, grappling with his feelings of betrayal and uncertainty.

Red looked at Second thoughtfully before nodding, "It is valid. After all, you're Alan's creation too. But it isn't really good to assume things, you know? It might hurt you along the way, Sec. You guys need to talk," Red suggested, tilting his head in a gesture of understanding and guidance.

Second gazed at Red for a moment, his resolve wavering before nodding shakily. "Okay... I'll do that. When he comes back, we'll talk," Second affirmed with a determined nod. Red, filled with optimism, clapped Second's back excitedly.

"I know you and Alan will work it out. He's basically your dad!" Red exclaimed with enthusiasm, although his words only caused Second to recoil into himself, feeling the weight of the impending conversation.

"Okay..." Second muttered softly, the anxiety swirling in his stomach becoming more pronounced.

"Second? Trust me on this. Just talk. Maybe this is all just some big misunderstanding," Red urged, his voice filled with reassurance. Second, hugging his knees tighter to his chest, emitted a low hum in response.

"He's been gone for almost two days, I'm getting worried," Blue expressed, sitting at the dining table with Yellow beside him, who sighed in agreement. "We don't exactly know what happens in the outside world unless Alan tells us," Yellow remarked, voicing the uncertainty that loomed over their heads.

"Don't tell me he's actually angry at us for the rave we did the other day. We've done that multiple times, and he never gets angry!" Green chimed in with a pout, reflecting on past experiences.

"Maybe his patience finally ran out," Blue suggested with a frown, contemplating the unusual length of Alan's absence.

"I don't think so. Alan has a really, really long patience considering... we've burned his literal important files multiple times. I don't think raves would make him that angry to the point where he doesn't come back," Red argued, offering a different perspective on the situation.

Second, who had been quietly listening to the discussion, buried his head in his arms, overwhelmed by everything.

What should he do now? Alan still hasn't come back. He's never done that before! Alan always gives him a heads up if so, but now he doesn't know where Alan is or if he's still coming back. Second pondered silently, lost in his thoughts and fears.

"What happens when he doesn't come back? Do we have to live in the outernet?" Blue suddenly asked, startling everyone in the room with the weight of the question

"What do you mean by that? Are you implying that Alan won't come back?" Red interjected, his voice tinged with anger. "You all should stop assuming! How about we all calm down and just wait for Alan to come back," Red urged, crossing his arms in frustration. Reuben expressed his own concern with worrisome snorts, nudging Red's leg for comfort.

"Alright, maybe Red is right, but still, I can't help but feel uneasy, you know? We surely didn't anger him, right?" Yellow voiced his apprehensions, seeking reassurance from the group. Blue nodded in agreement, sharing Yellow's unease.

Red, after a moment of contemplation, shook his head and sighed before directing his gaze towards Second, who had remained quiet throughout the discussion. Concern etched on his face, Red observed Second carefully, sensing the weight of the situation on his shoulders.

"What are we gonna do now?" Green's question hung in the air, highlighting the group's collective sense of helplessness and confusion.

Suddenly, Second rose to his feet, surprising everyone in the room with his decisive action. "I'm calling Chosen and Dark. Maybe—maybe they could help us?" Second proposed, breaking the silence that had enveloped the room.

"Thought they don't wanna come back here anymore? Them and Alan aren't really on good terms, aren't they?" Yellow inquired, prompting Second to shrug in response. The uncertainty surrounding Alan's talk with Chosen and Dark lingered in Second's mind, stirring up a mix of emotions that he struggled to untangle.

Though Alan was supposed to talk to them, Second couldn't be certain if that conversation had taken place. The mere thought of it twisted his stomach with a wicked sense of jealousy, a feeling he tried to push aside. I can't think like that. Chosen and Dark have the same rights as mine. Second reasoned with himself.

Despite his attempts to rationalize his feelings, the jealousy brewing within Second persisted, casting a shadow over his thoughts and emotions. The sudden intrusion of Chosen and Dark into his established dynamic with Alan shattered the peace he had found in their friendship.

For almost a year, it had been just "Him and Alan," a comforting routine where they shared a unique connection, understanding each other almost instinctively. Second cherished the sense of normalcy in their interactions, relishing the feeling of being needed and valued by Alan. Helping Alan gave Second a profound sense of purpose and fulfillment.

However, the arrival of Chosen and Dark disrupted this balance, stirring up feelings of inadequacy and jealousy within Second. The revelation that Alan had created stick figures before Second struck a chord of insecurity within him, challenging the notion of exclusivity that Second had believed in.

Wasn't it supposed to be just him and Alan, a "partnership" built on trust and mutual understanding?

Trusting Alan had always come naturally to Second, but upon reflection, doubts arose about whether Alan reciprocated the same level of trust and care that Second held for him. This realization weighed heavily on Second, stirring up feelings of guilt for questioning the depth of their bond.

Surely Alan cares for me, right? Second pondered, a flicker of doubt clouding his thoughts before he shook his head, trying to dispel these unsettling notions.

"Yellow, can you try messaging Dark from here to the outernet? See if you can ask them to come here so I can try to explain our problem," Second suggested, seeking assistance from Yellow in reaching out to Chosen and Dark for help. Yellow nodded before rushing off to retrieve his laptop.

"Are you sure about this? I mean, I'm okay with Dark and Chosen, but they are still terrorists, and we're letting them in without Alan's permission," Blue voiced his concerns, his nervousness palpable as he tapped his hands together anxiously.

"I'm sure it will be fine, relax Blue," Red reassured, extending a comforting pat on the blue stick's back.

"I knew it, Alan is really messed up in the head," Chosen growled, his fist clenched in anger. Dark and Second exchanged surprised glances before turning their attention back to Chosen, who suddenly flushed with embarrassment.

"Sorry about that, but—I knew Alan would do something like this, hurting you and all. He didn't really change, did he?" Chosen expressed bitterly, crossing his arms in frustration, his disappointment evident.

"That's not true," Second weakly protested, though his own doubts began to overshadow his defense of Alan. As Chosen's accusations lingered in the air, Second found it harder to refute them, his faith in Alan wavering.

"Oh, spare me the words, Sec. Alan is just like that. He acts kind, as if he wants to talk, but when you try to engage with him, he just shuts down and refuses to respond. He may have never physically hurt you like he did us, but he's clearly deteriorating your mental health!" Chosen's voice rose with each word, his frustration and concern for Second palpable.

"But—" Second attempted to interject, seeking to defend Alan, only to be met with Chosen's glare. Desperate for support, Second turned to Dark, hoping the red stick would come to his aid in defending Alan. However, Dark raised both hands and shook his head, signaling his reluctance to mediate the escalating conflict between Chosen and Second

"Sorry Sec, I don't really want to deal with Alan right now..." Dark trailed off, a strange look crossing his features. Despite Second's plea for understanding and a chance for Alan, Dark hesitated to involve himself further in the situation, choosing to distance himself from the conflict.

"But—I really want you guys to give Alan the benefit of the doubt. What if we just decided to talk to him properly? Maybe it would be much better, right?" Second weakly protested.

Chosen's glare bore into Second, causing him to shrink back in shame. "There's no misunderstanding here. All I see is Alan being a lousy creator as always," Chosen muttered disdainfully, rolling his eyes and shaking his head, dismissing Second's words.

"That's not true! Watch your mouth!" Second retorted, his anger flaring in response to Chosen's criticism. Sensing the imminent fight, Dark intervened, pushing both Second and Chosen apart before their disagreement could escalate into an actual fight (he'd rather not see Second blast Chosen away).

"Enough, you two!" Dark's voice cut through the tension, his frustration evident as he tried to quell the rising conflict. Second let out an angry huff, turning away from Chosen and crossing his arms in frustration.

"Why don't we all take a breath? I'm also getting irritated by the two of you, I swear to the creator," Dark grumbled, his patience wearing thin as he surveyed the tense standoff between Second and Chosen. With a muttered curse and a stern glare directed at both of them

Chosen lowered his head guiltily, expressing his regret, "Sorry, I didn't mean to say that," he murmured apologetically, acknowledging the weight of his words. Second, in turn, turned towards him and admitted, "Me too. I'm just feeling really nervous right now. I'm just afraid that Alan would be angry at me," revealing his vulnerability and anxiety.

Dark, observing the exchange, crossed his arms and tilted his head, offering a gesture of support, "Do you want to come with us to the outernet?" Dark's unexpected offer caught Chosen off guard, his surprise evident in his expression.

"I-No, what about the others?" Second hesitated, feeling a pang of embarrassment at the thought of joining them. Dark paused, considering the question before turning to Chosen for input. Chosen shrugged before nodding, granting permission for Second to accompany them.

"You can bring them," Chosen affirmed, giving his consent for Second to join them. Dark, relaying the decision, turned back to Second, stating simply, "Well, that's your answer then," with a noncommittal shrug

"Uhm, what if Alan comes back? I think I should wait for him," Second replied, nervously rubbing his arm. Chosen scoffed at the suggestion, while Dark shook his head, reiterating, "The offer stands, Sec..." through clenched teeth.

Feeling torn between waiting for Alan and accepting the offer to join Dark and Chosen, Second persisted, "I know he's going to come back and explain himself. Dark, can't you really send Alan a message to his phone?" Second inquired, seeking a way to communicate with Alan.

Dark shook his head regretfully, "No can do, Sec, sorry," he said with a shrug, indicating the limitations in reaching out to Alan directly. Disheartened, Second slumped slightly before nodding in resignation. "It's okay, I understand," he trailed off, his frustration evident as he scratched his head, grappling with the uncertainty of the situation.

Chosen, sensing Second's distress, spoke up with a serious tone, "Look, Sec, I really wish we could help you, but Alan... I don't know how to tell you this. He's a hard man to read, and I'd rather you not have to deal with that. Why don't you and the others live in the outernet? We can always help you all," Chosen suggested.

"Cho... that's a really nice idea, but—I don't really want to leave the PC. This is my home, this is where I was made, and this is where Alan is... I don't want to leave him," Second confessed, awkwardly scuffing his feet on the ground. In front of him, Dark and Chosen exchanged a glance that Second couldn't quite decipher.

"Okay, we're not forcing you to leave Alan, but the offer still stands and will be like that until you make up your mind, got it?" Chosen clarified, making it clear that the invitation to join them remained open for Second to consider. Second nodded, unconsciously hugging himself as he processed the conversation.

"M'kay, thank you Cho and Dark, and sorry for getting angry again and raising my voice," Second expressed, his tone apologetic.

Chosen gestured that he didn't mind Second's outburst, acknowledging, "It's okay. I did say a lot of bad things about Alan. It's normal for you to protect him, but you know that's not all your purpose, right? You can do other things than staying here and drawing with him," Chosen pointed out.

"I really like drawing with Alan, that's that," Second stated definitively, closing the door on further discussion about his preferences. Chosen regarded him for a moment before conceding, "Okay, okay, I got it," raising his hands in surrender. Second visibly relaxed, nodding in gratitude.

"Okay, thank you guys. I really appreciate you both coming here and trying to help us," Second expressed, twirling his hands together nervously, conveying his gratitude for their support and understanding.

"It's not a problem, anytime, just for you, Sec," Dark reassured, with Chosen nodding in agreement beside him. Chosen then issued a stern warning, "Remember to tell me if Alan comes back, okay? If he doesn't return by tomorrow, I'm seriously going to bring you to our house and take care of you properly," Chosen declared firmly, his tone conveying a sense of responsibility and protectiveness. Second gulped and nodded in acknowledgment.

"Make sure you two actually talk," Chosen added.

-O-

"I've been gone for 2 days now," Alan murmurs to himself, stretching as he boots up his PC. Pondering the whereabouts and well-being of the others, he muses, "Wonder how the others are doing right now... I feel like I'm forgetting something," tapping his chin in contemplation. With a sigh and a shrug, Alan refocuses on his screen as it loads.

"Ah, whatever, it's probably not important," Alan dismisses his lingering thoughts, opening the folder containing Second's house. Noticing that Second is still not awake, he hesitates, unsure of what action to take. Closing the folder, he instead turns to Google and Facebook, deciding to engage with a customer while he waits.

"Might as well talk to the customer for now," Alan mutters to himself, crafting a message explaining the delay in his work meticulously before sending it off after a final proofread.

Switching tabs, Alan opens a website to play Tetris, briefly muting the music as he immerses himself in the game, humming the familiar theme under his breath. Engrossed in the gameplay, he is taken by surprise when he notices Second standing at the bottom of the screen, a mix of anger and nervousness evident in his expression.

"Oh, Sec!" Alan exclaims, closing the tab and pulling up the notepad application. Typing swiftly, he inquires, [Second! I was trying to find you, where were you?].

As Second stared at Alan's message, a sense of unease settled over the scene, prompting Alan to frown, sensing that something was amiss. "Did something happen while I was gone?" Alan muttered with genuine concern, only to be met with a sudden question from Second, "[Where did you go?]"

Caught off guard by the directness of the question, Alan hesitated, realizing the delicate nature of the situation. How could he possibly explain that he had been sent to the hospital due to a high fever, burdening his mother with worry and care in his absence? Alan grappled with the dilemma, torn between the urge to confide in Second and the fear of complicating matters unnecessarily.

"Would Second understand? There's no hospital here and stuff, ah..." Alan muttered to himself, contemplating the implications of disclosing the truth. Despite feeling guilty for abruptly leaving Second without explanation, Alan hesitated, unsure of how to broach the subject.

Attempting to deflect the question, Alan initially typed down [Work things] before swiftly deleting it, realizing the inadequacy of the excuse. However, Second had already seen the response, prompting a surge of frustration from the orange stick figure.

"No, that's some bad reasoning..." Alan trailed off, his attempt at evasion falling short as Second's anger flared, stomping off in a display of indignation. Bewildered by Second's outburst, Alan could only manage an awkward, "What?" as he watched Second leave, puzzled by the sudden turn of events and the apparent rift in their communication.

As Second's departure left Alan in a state of confusion, scratching his head in bewilderment, he couldn't help but wonder, "What's wrong with Second?"

Seeing Second's withdrawn behavior, Alan quickly grabs his notepad. [Wait! What's wrong?] Alan inquires, his expression reflecting genuine concern as he nervously bites his lip, unsure of what triggered Second's reaction.

As Second halts, averting his gaze and crossing his arms in a defensive posture, Alan's confusion deepens. "What the? What did I even do?" Alan questions with a hint of hurt in his voice, pondering the reason behind Second's sudden anger. [Second, talk to me, come on] Alan types, urging Second to open up.

Despite Alan's efforts to prompt a conversation, Second remains silent, standing with arms folded and foot tapping rhythmically. "Come on, Sec, talk to me," Alan murmurs, his nerves palpable as he taps his thigh anxiously.

After a moment of tense silence, Second finally spoke up, [It's nothing. I'm sorry for snapping at you], his actions betraying his guilt as he shook his head apologetically.

Alan breathed out slowly, shaking his head in bewilderment. "What was that all about?" he muttered to himself, the confusion palpable in the air. [I don't get it. Please, talk to me], Alan urged, but Second remained tight-lipped, only shaking his head in response.

Alan sighed in frustration, his hand meeting his face in exasperation. Second's sudden outburst followed by his reluctance to explain left Alan feeling utterly bewildered and perplexed.

"Come on, Second, talk to me," Alan urged, nervously biting his thumb as he observed Second scuffing his foot on the ground before shaking his head. [Sorry, Alan. I'm glad you're back], Second finally spoke up. Alan frowned and let out a sigh. "Maybe I shouldn't push so hard. Second might get angry again," Alan mumbled, a tinge of sadness in his voice.

[Okay, do you want to help me with my commission? I missed you :(], Alan typed, expressing his longing through a sad emoticon, mirroring his own pout.

Second hesitated for a moment before shyly nodding. [Okay!], Second responded, suddenly looking much more excited, as if the earlier anger had dissipated into thin air. "Ugh, Sec," Alan chuckled, shaking his head in amusement as he watched Second eagerly open the program and grab the pencil tool from the side.

-O-

"Ah, DJ, it's so good to see you again. It's rare to see you come down here," Jennifer greeted with a warm smile as she settled at the dining table. DJ followed suit, taking a seat beside Alan, who responded with an eye roll.

"Alan! Your manners, your friend is here. You should be greeting him," Jennifer scolded, prompting Alan to groan and deliver a light punch to DJ's shoulder. "That's alright, Ms. Becker. He's just like that," DJ remarked with a charming smile, earning a giggle from Jennifer.

"Come on, eat up, eat up. I'm just so happy to see you here again. You've grown so well!" Jennifer gushed, her joy palpable. DJ smiled in response, while Alan maintained a scowl. "Okay, mom, enough. He didn't even grow; he's kinda small," Alan teased before receiving a poke in his side, causing him to flinch and shift away from DJ.

"You!" Alan growled, shooting a glare at DJ, who only smirked in return.

Jennifer chuckled at the playful banter between the two. "Oh, boys, you both have grown. DJ, do you remember the time when you started to cry because you thought Alan was angry at you?" Jennifer began, a smile playing on her lips. DJ blushed, ducking his head at the memory.

"Oh, Ms. Becker, not that one, spare my dignity here," DJ pleaded, hiding his face with his hand while Alan snickered beside him. "Turns out Alan's sight was just really bad, and he was squinting to see you properly. You thought he was glaring at you!" Jennifer recounted before bursting into laughter

She slapped her knee and wiped a tear, "Please, Alan, stop it, aunty!" DJ groaned out as Alan joined his mother in laughter. "DJ was a crybaby back then. Did you know he loved holding my arm because he said he might lose me? Oh, that's just hilarious. That DJ back then was cuter than now," Alan teased, mock-sighing and stroking his chin in a playful manner.

Jennifer snorted and chuckled once more. "Oh, DJ, you adorable boy. I'm so glad you two are friends," Jennifer exclaimed, beaming with delight. DJ turned his head up with a small smile, looking at Alan, expecting a smile in return. However, Alan appeared a bit somber. "Alan?" DJ inquired, tilting his head in concern. Alan snapped out of his trance, nodding and offering a small smile.

"Totally regret befriending this goof," Alan quipped with a smirk before yelping as his side was poked yet again, this time eliciting a loud shriek from him. Jennifer burst into another round of laughter at his exaggerated reaction.

"Ahh, it's pretty cold, isn't it?" DJ remarked as he stretched his arms above his head while they strolled down the quiet street. Alan, feeling tired, simply hummed in agreement. "Man, I'm glad you're alright now. I really thought you were going to be in the hospital for a long time. What even happened?" DJ inquired, a frown creasing his forehead. Alan sighed and rubbed the back of his head.

"They said I overworked my body too much and I was underweight. Don't give me that look; it's just that I burn fat too fast. That's called metabolism. You wouldn't know that anyway," Alan smirked before being playfully pushed by DJ. "You goof! I'm being serious here, I swear to God, man," DJ said with a laugh, to which Alan chuckled and rolled his eyes. "You can't even be serious even if your life depends on it," Alan retorted, moving away when DJ made a move to tickle him again.

"I swear, man, thank God you just came back from the hospital, or I would've tickled you to death right now," DJ remarked with a smile, his expression turning serious as he observed Alan shivering and pulling his hood up, breathing on his hands. "Are you sure you still aren't sick? You still look pale, you know," DJ expressed with a frown, genuine concern evident in his voice.

Alan rolled his eyes. "Overreacting much?" he teased, snickering when DJ shot him a glare. "Just worried for my friend. It's really rare for us to talk. The last time we had a chat feels like weeks ago, or I don't know, I'm bad with dates," DJ remarked as he stopped and slumped onto a bench.

Alan followed suit, settling beside him. "This is the same bench we sat on that same day," Alan pointed out, prompting a chuckle from DJ. "No pigeons this time, right?" DJ joked.

Alan groaned and rolled his eyes. "Not that again," he retorted before leaning back, the two of them lapsing into silence, listening to the wind and the sounds of people passing by on the street. "You good?" DJ inquired suddenly.

Alan turned to him and sighed. "Dunno, just not doing well. The bill was crazy when I left the hospital, and I know Mom is struggling right now. I still have so much to catch up with my commissions, and I missed some classes in those two days," Alan confessed, releasing an exasperated breath.

DJ tightened his lips and looked away, observing people walking and chatting around them. "Alan, you're not that well yet. You shouldn't push yourself too much. Look at you; we just had a short walk, and you look like you're about to keel over," DJ expressed concern, noting how pale Alan appeared.

"Yeah, I know, I know. Don't get your panties in a twist, man," Alan drawled before the two of them lapsed into a deep silence once more.

"You seem preoccupied with something else. Tell me, what's more important than taking care of yourself?" DJ leaned towards his friend with a smile, prompting Alan to turn to him and sigh.

After a moment of contemplation, Alan spoke up. "It's just... I have this friend, uhm, online. I don't know, he just suddenly got angry at me, and when I asked what's wrong, he wouldn't tell me why," Alan explained with a frown.

DJ hummed thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. "Is this the same person you had a disagreement with, that we talked about last time, or is it a different one?" DJ inquired.

Alan simply shrugged, causing the other teen to roll his eyes. "Okay, mister world-wide with a lot of friends, sorry for being such a normal friend," DJ said dramatically. Alan snorted and gave him a strange look. "You're so weird, I swear to God," Alan remarked with a chuckle.

"What? I'm just saying, you have a lot of friends. Are you like... getting groomed or something?" DJ whispered jokingly, prompting Alan to shoot him an 'are you serious?' look.

"No, man, and don't joke about that, Jesus Christ, DJ," Alan grumbled, glaring at his friend. DJ shrugged noncommittally, offering a tight-lipped smile and a hum. "Anyways, maybe you did something to him that's why he got angry at you," DJ suggested, causing Alan to furrow his brow.

"I did something to them? Like saying something or..." Alan's voice trailed off, a sense of nervousness creeping in as he wondered if he had unintentionally offended Second.

"Bro, I don't know. Rack your big brain and see if you did something wrong. That's where you'll find out why your friend got angry at you," DJ advised. "Ah, well, I don't know if I did something wrong, really. Now I feel like an asshole," Alan muttered, burying his head in his hands.

For a moment, DJ contemplated whether to laugh at Alan or offer assistance. Seeing how seriously Alan took the situation, he decided on the former. "Relax, Alan," DJ said, patting his friend's back. Alan let out a hum before sighing and lowering his hands. "I guess I've been too busy with life, and I don't pay that much attention to what he does," Alan murmured, reflecting on his recent interactions.

DJ tilted his head, "Are you sure this is a friend, or is it a secret relationship? You surely don't need to spend so much time with him," DJ teased. "Ugh, DJ, seriously?" Alan responded, his voice tinged with disappointment and annoyance.

"Sorry, couldn't help it. But seriously, I'm getting jealous of how much you care about this secret friend more than me," DJ pouted, feigning a sigh, before halting when Alan turned to him with a serious, nervous expression. "Seriously? DJ–" Alan began, looking guilty.

"Whoa, I was just joking! Don't worry about that, man. You're good, I swear," DJ reassured as he patted Alan's back. "Oh, whew, I really thought... sorry, I'm just not good with connections, am I? It's weird that you're still my friend," Alan remarked with a frown.

"Well, that's true. You're really awkward, terrible at discussing things, think everything you do is unnecessary, which sometimes leads to misunderstandings. Dare I say more?" DJ quipped, raising his fingers to indicate the number of faults he found in Alan.

"Wow, DJ, thanks. I feel so much better now. You're the best person ever," Alan retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm just telling the truth, man. You're really bad at maintaining friendships. It's weird that you have friends, even online! You know how dry your texts are? Really dry! Drier than the desert itself, man," DJ remarked, prompting Alan to pout and throw his arms up in exasperation.

"Thank you, DJ. I couldn't have asked for a better friend, but I got you instead," Alan said with disdain before receiving a playful punch on his shoulder from the other teen.

"I'm just telling you the truth, Alan. In this generation, you have to be more upfront! Say what you feel, not act what you feel. Not everyone prefers actions over words. Why? Well, they don't interpret it the way you do," DJ explained with a grin. Alan only frowned.

"You have your own way of communicating. You use your actions as a form of showing appreciation... but sometimes, your actions can cause more harm, you know? Especially when you overwork yourself just to help Auntie," DJ added, his tone turning somber.

"Oh... sorry, DJ. I, uh, I'm really trying. I'll try to do just that," Alan said, embarrassed. It was quite flustering for him to express his true feelings. "See, you get awkward when you say what you actually mean. Honestly, I think you should have focused more on your social skills, man," DJ remarked.

Alan huffed and rolled his eyes, "Whatever. Isn't my response enough? Stop grilling me, dude!" Alan exclaimed as he playfully punched DJ's shoulder, a bit too hard. "OW!" DJ yelped in response to the unexpected force.