Paintbrush's room had been the very antithesis of Purgatory Mansion, in a lot of ways. The walls were a garish shade of orange and in a state of perfect repair, and there wasn't any clutter anywhere. The only personal touch in the room was a small framed photograph of Lightbulb, Paintbrush, Test Tube and Fan all spending time together in between challenges.

Marsh drummed her fingers on the arm of the big orange armchair she was sitting in. Less than a meter away, Paintbrush was leaning against the tall bedpost of the room's sole double bed.

"So, how did you even make up with Apple? I thought you hated her. She used you."

Hesitation; she didn't want to make anyone look bad. "I-I did, but it was a misunderstanding. Bow possessed her- but only because she wanted to protect me."

"Well, wait, hold up. You're saying that Bow made Apple betray you to protect you? And you forgave her?"

"...When you put it that way, it sounds almost unreasonable."

Her eyes almost hurt, it was so bright. There was no light at Purgatory Mansion.

Paintbrush stared at her, expression pitying. "Marshmallow, I'm sorry, but... Bow's gone. She's never coming ba-"

"Don't look at me like that." Marsh's voice cracked. "I'm not going insane. Her ghost hangs out there. Because MePhone4 was dead when she died, she... couldn't be recovered."

'I'd know, it's all my fault for killing her.'

"Hmm... I can take your word for it."

"I swear it's true; she has an active social media page and everything." She spoke in a tumble of words.

Paintbrush gave it another second's thought, arms crossing, then nodded. "So, all you did was hang out? For three years?"

"P-pretty much. Life at the mansion is boring, but we manage."

"Sometimes boring is good."

Marsh giggled. "It is. Apple had to talk me into coming to this reunion thing. I think this week'll suck eggs. The only reason I'm here is because Apple insisted, and... well, I could catch up with you and the others.

"Hm. I suppose that shouldn't surprise me. I think that's the first thing she's ever done that I'm okay with," Paintbrush joked.

A nervous little giggle. "Apple's really not so bad. Sure she's childish, but... she's nothing but nice to me these days, and never seems to mind sharing. And having someone else who's alive to keep me company at the mansion is probably what's keeping me sane. She's slow on the uptake, but you'd be surprised by how much she seems to get it when you're patient enough to explain. Y'know."

"Uh-huh... I never would've expected you two to bury the hatchet after what she did to you - sorry, what Bow did to you." Paintbrush's hand mindlessly ran through the bristles on its owner's head. "Sounds like you have a lot to say about her."

'Shoot. I rambled a bit there, didn't I?'

"W-what I mean is, you'd be surprised at how okay she is."

Paintbrush didn't look suspicious, at least. "I believe you. ...I just wish you told me everything was okay, or that you were going somewhere. I... I really did worry. There wasn't a day that went by that I didn't think about you, and when I found out she was missing, I was just... I don't know."

"Did they seriously not show any footage of us going to Purgatory Mansion in the show? There were cameras everywhere in the mansion, before we destroyed them all. I-I would've figured... that might tell you I was okay."

"I never got the chance to watch season two," Paintbrush admitted. "Trust me, I've been booked since I got eliminated. Lightbulb has this weird idea that she's my manager now, and also my roommate... Which has created a lot of problems. And even if I had the time, who wants to watch themselves on TV?"

Marsh nodded. "That's true. I haven't watched the show since season one. But... oh my marsh, I'm so sorry!"

"And I think that the reason rumors ran so much was because, well, it was three years. I think everyone was fully prepared for the possibility that things went wrong in that time."

"...It's not a dumb assumption," Marsh admitted, as much as it pained her to. The thought of hating Apple was like a distant nightmare,  like sandpaper to the touch. Such an unpleasant thought. "But we're really friends now."

"You seem happy. So, no troubles?"

"Not really. Bow and Apple still don't one hundred percent like each other for some reason-" an obvious reason, but not one worth sharing with Paintbrush, "and there've been minor arguments, I guess, but... not really."

Paintbrush sighed, smiling tiredly. "...That's a relief. I'll admit, this conversation was good for me... even if I kinda interviewed you there. Sorry."

"That's okay. If you have any more questions, I-I don't mind."

"Just a few more." Paintbrush glanced down, then met Marsh's gaze again. "I guess it's... This is hard to ask, but did I do anything wrong? Something that made you feel like you couldn't stay?"

"You didn't do anything wrong!" Not for the first time that conversation, her voice cracked. She bowled on, "I hated the game, not the players! You did everything right. You tried to make me feel listened to. I-I think it was just one of those things where I had to hear the words from that one person... It's not a reflection on you, Paintbrush, and  I-I'm so sorry you thought that."

Silence. Paintbrush bowed her- his head, bristles bobbing as he did so. "Well, that's a relief." Paintbrush frowned more intensely, arms crossing. "And... um, I guess this is a bad question to end off on, but... I'll admit, it's important. Do you still trust me?"

"Of course!" Marsh hopped to her feet. "How couldn't I?! Sorry, that was loud." She lowered her volume and continued, "You've been nothing but kind to me... why would I ever stop trusting you? We were a team."

'But, then again, Apple and I are a team, too.'

Partly to reassure herself, Marsh added, "Nobody's replaced you. There've been times that I wanted advice over the years, but... Bow and Apple are not the best for advice. And Dough is good for it, but only weird stuff. Like 'just grin and bear it' or 'never boil eggs while it's dark out.' He's weird. You give me actual advice."

Paintbrush's eyes were wide; Marsh guessed it was either the lack of hesitation or the determination with which she said it. Or perhaps both?

"The only reason I didn't tell you was because I acted on impulse. You know me: act in the moment, regret it for years." Marsh sighed. "I really would tell you almost anything."

There wasn't anyone on the planet she'd tell anything. Nobody else needed to know about the nightmares.

But if there was... well, Paintbrush just might be it.

'Even if I had to tell anyone about me and Apple, it'd be Paintbrush. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. None of the secrets we've ever shared have gotten out...'

Paintbrush sighed, smiling. "That's such a relief. You... have no idea how much I needed to hear that. Thanks."

'Perish the thought. I can't share that just yet.'

Marsh smiled in spite of the conflict in her heart. "No problem." She glanced at the clock. "Shoot, it's almost nine-thirty. Apple's probably ready to go to sleep by now; I better give her the room key."

She hopped off the cushy armchair and said,  "Uh, good talk. We should do this again sometime."

"Absolutely."

Paintbrush opened the door ahead of Marsh's exit. Marsh gulped, hesitant, before saying. "Um, Paintbrush... there is something I could tell you."

"What is it?"

Silence. Marsh folded her arms in front of her and rocked on her feet for a second before saying, "Um, how would you like to stay at the mansion for a while once all this nonsense is over? Y-you said your life was hectic, and... what better way to get past hecticness than by being bored?"

'Apple probably wouldn't like it, it'd mean more restraint, but...'

"Are you sure it's not a bother?"

"Sure. If you don't mind a little dust, you might like it."

"In that case, I'd love to." Paintbrush beamed. "Thanks, Marshmallow. So glad we came to understand each other, and that we can start getting back to normal."

Marsh's smile was genuine. "Oh, yeah! N-no problem. I'm glad to see you again, too..."

XXX

"MARSHMALLOW!"

Marsh fell backwards with surprise.

Suddenly she wasn't in Paintbrush's room, or with Paintbrush; she was in the middle of a secluded hallway. There was a single camera in one of the corners, but it was blackened and lifeless.

Apple stood in front of her, looking startled. Marsh climbed to her feet. "Geez, Apple, why are you yelling?!"

"You haven't said anything for, like, three minutes, even though I've been talking to you the whole time we've been walking," Apple explained in a rush as Marsh dusted herself off. "And you looked kinda mad, so... are you mad at me?"

"When am I ever mad at you lately? I'm just thinking."

"Oh. What'cha thinkin' about?

Their doors stood in front of them: rooms 306 and 307. They were honey-colored, with their numbers emblazoned on them in simple bronze letters.

'Geez, I really did space out. Guess that conversation with Paintbrush left me with more to think about than I thought.'

"Nothing worth talking about right now."

"O-okay."

Marsh pulled out the two roomkeys and slotted 307 into the 307 lock. She twisted it and then pulled it open.

Then she offered Apple hers. "It's open. Just head in and keep that somewhere safe."

"Uh, no thank you. I'll probably lose it anyway; I'm not, what's the word... Hmm..."

"Organized?"

"Yeah, that's it!"

"...Fine, I'll hold it for you.

Marsh unlocked her own door with a sharp click. She pushed it open to reveal the darkened hotel room, which looked almost identical to the one Paintbrush had.

'I can't believe that I left Paintbrush to deal with all that alone for years. Nobody deserves that, especially not such a good friend...'

"Hey Marsh, I owe you one for making me a friend earlier, so... want me to come in and tell you a bedtime story or something?"

'...I could use some company, honestly. Not for long enough for the cameras to get suspicious, obviously, but...'

Marsh glanced around to check that single camera there. It was black and lifeless.

"I'm really tired. Today took a lot out of me... All I want to do is get some sleep, so..."

"You're thinkin', Marsh. Tell me if I'm wrong, but aren't you just gonna sit there and think the whole time you're trying to sleep?"

''...Okay, that's a good point.'

Marsh sighed. "Fine. You can tell me a story, but... a really short one. Ten pages maximum." In a whisper, she added, "We want to be done by the time that camera turns back on..."

Apple glanced at it and shrugged, then walked in ahead of her.

Marsh shut the door behind them. Apple raised her hand to flip the light switch, but Marsh grabbed her wrist before she could touch it.

"It's staying off. Everything's so bright here that it's giving me a big headache."

She blinked. "Okay."

'It feels just a bit more like home. All that's still different are the air conditioning being on, everything being free of dust, being jumpy about cameras... '

Apple giggled. "You're holding my hand!"

'The only constant is that I'm guilty about something.'

Marsh noted that her hand had slipped down off Apple's wrist, to her hand. She sighed and made to pull it away, but Apple grabbed it and smiled playfully. "Gotcha! You did good today."

She averted her gaze. "...No offense, but you think that because you're you. But whatever, if you say so."

"Don't gimme that! You did do good. You got to talk with Paintbrush, and I got to talk about how cute you were for, like, four minutes and twenty-eight seconds because of you."

"...Quick question. Do you even know what 'lowkey' means?"

Apple glanced away nervously. "Uh, s-should I?"

An awkward pause.

She rolled her eyes. "...Figures."

"I guess what I'm meaning to ask is," Apple squeezed her hand, "Are you okay?"

Marsh hesitated before responding, "I'm so out of my element. I'm awful at acting, and I feel awful about how I abandoned Paintbrush. Nobody deserves to worry about their best friend for years. Paintbrush thought I was dead. And I guess that conversation gave me a lot of think about, so to be candid..." Marsh gulped, "Not really."

"Shucks. I'm sorry."

Marsh took a deep breath. "It could've been way worse... but we have a lot ahead of us. Tomorrow night we have the dance. A few days after that, the interviews. Then the parade. And I got to get off camera today, but even still, even if I wasn't guilty about leaving Paintbrush out to dry, I almost ruined everything."

'I can't believe I rambled like that about Apple. I'll bet Paintbrush thought that was weird...'

"Sorry."

A sigh.

"It's not your fault."

"But still, you shouldn't be upset." Apple pulled Marsh closer and planted a quick kiss between her eyes. "You're too nice to be sad."

'Not really. I've done a lot of horrible things. I killed Bow, and left Paintbrush alone, and... I did a lot of nasty stuff to you.'

"You know... I missed you when you were talking to your buddy, but it was a pretty good day." She paused; Marsh didn't speak. "We held hands almost the whole way here, and I know that tomorrow I'll get to see you in the light. Then we'll see who the cute one is!"

"Can you stop?"

A raspy laugh. "But it's totally true! I think you're adorable! It's part of why I stare at you all the time."

Marsh's cheeks went pink. "What are you doing, trying to be romantic or something? I'm having a serious crisis here."

"I don't know what 'romantic' means. What's a 'serious crisis'? Is it something you can eat?"

Marsh stared at her. "I'm not having a good day. I'm not in the mood to hear your compliments right now..."

"Compliment? It's not a compliment if it's fact!" Apple gingerly leaned closer. "And I think you think I'm adorable, too."

"Uh-"

"You looked a bit... upset earlier when Soap was calling me cute. Didja want to say I was cute? Were you jealous?"

"Are you kidding me?! I am not jealous!"

"You were."

"No."

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Okay, fine. I'm sorry. ...Kiss to apologize?"

Marsh's face was very warm. There was a weird feeling in her stomach, some combination of seasickness, elation, and annoyance.

What was it?

It was the fact that she didn't know how to describe it that compelled her to lean in a little and shut her eyes. Pretty soon, Apple's lips connected with hers.

The hand that wasn't holding hers was warm as it tugged her closer. Something manic and warm and happy seemed to burst inside of her when they kissed; it was so startling that Marsh's eyes snapped open mid-kiss.

Eventually they stopped. Marsh stared at her, focus only broken by her own shocked blinks. Her stomach did a little backflip. Apple grinned earnestly.

"Hope that was enough to make you forgive me."

They said that couples came to resemble each other the more time they spent together. At that point, Marsh looked more like an apple than a marshmallow. Her mouth was an O.

"Um..."

'It was, but... what even was that?'

"You're cute," Apple randomly remarked. "But, anyway, sorry. I don't actually know any bedtime stories. Do you want me to stay in here with ya all night to make up for it?"

Marsh stared at her for a second, then sighed. "No. Do you even listen? We can't make the others suspicious, you know.

"But who's gonna be suspicious anyway?! Friends have sleepovers all the time! And I forgot my teddy bear, anyway, so..."

Her heart gave a little thrill. "Did you honestly just say that?"

Apple blinked. "Uh... no?"

"Just... anyway." Marsh sighed and, swallowing her hesitation (and nerves, she realized), hugged Apple. "I was stressed, and now I'm not as stressed, so maybe I will get to sleep.... Look, I think I... really needed this tonight. But we can't take chances."

She clenched the hand their keys were in into a fist, and then added, "Sweet dreams, alright?"

She pulled out of the hug to meet Apple's gaze head-on. Apple hesitated for a second before sighing. "Fine. Sweet dreams."

It was curious. Marsh was wrong.

It was still hard to get to sleep. She was still anxious about what the week would bring.

But more than that, happy memories of times with Apple (and, to an extent, with Paintbrush and Bow) ran through her mind. Times from that day and the past week, sure, but also memories long past. It made her feel like a s'more on the inside.

Lying in bed with that same warmth in her chest from earlier, Marsh finally figured out what it was: a feeling that'd been quite familiar to her a few months ago.

One that'd kept her up late then, too.

Infatuation. Crush feelings. Or, at least, the feelings of a young girl who missed her crush.

Still, she went to sleep with a smile instead of a paralyzed frown, which she supposed was saying something.