Chapter Text
Today, on night duty, Joy, once again sending, extremely dissatisfied with the constant dishonest shifts of the main one, why she is so eager to watch Riley's dreams at all, it is not clear, Disgust at the departing crowd of other emotions in the rest room. Quietness in the head department and another nonsense from the studio of dream, which gave hope for the ability to surprise over the past at least five years, even though the light at the end of the tunnel seemed less tangible. In fact it doesn't matter what the directors show today, have they always been mediocre and taken on work exactly as people usually say there? "By ad"? Simple, awkwardly pretentious and sucked out of the finger plots were on the screen every time, but once a year and the stick shoots, there are interesting interpretations of what happened to the girl in a day, without cliche or something very stupid. Probably, at such moments, would-be-workers decide to get sick, or they light up with the idea of doing something normal.
A squeaky chair on wheels grates on the ice-smooth floor, moving closer to the control panel, allowing the main team to sit in a comfortable position, leaning on the edge of the desktop, the buttons are activated only during a shallow sleep, it lasts about ten minutes at most, of course, no one noticed, but it's enough for a short nap and comprehension of all the information by the emotions themselves, so that in subsequent situations they know what to do.
The worldview screen dims, bright lights instantly go out in the main hall and cute flower night lights with dim golden lighting light up, leaving Joy absolutely alone in the room.
Or not alone?
Uneven breathing at a long enough distance, just not to be heard, otherwise the whole world will collapse at the same second with exactly one click, short legs hidden behind a long, almost floor-length nightgown that shifted one on top of another in a ridiculous dance, palms trembling on a constant basis due to the indiscriminate consumption of taurine and caffeinated drinks and a weak smile immersed in comfort are the main arsenal of appearance and behavior of the most productive and eternally agitated employee of the head department.
Anxiety. Anxy. Eccentric.
Everyone had a personal designation for the restless personality, but she always knew her real name.
A worthless fool. And not just a fool, but the most natural idiot. She discovered her regression in the strict and steely dream of becoming an worker with all the main emotions at headquarters a year and a half before the long-awaited move to a new workplace.
On one of the constantly recurring days, workers received an order to put a small screen in the room of those waiting for their hour of emotion, on which actions from the head department were broadcast online every day. This was supposed to influence future productivity and plant in the depths of the soul the seeds needed for work, so that they would grow and bear their useful fruits.
In fact, no one was interested in this privilege, the basics of the controller have been studied almost since their are creation, with the exception of the orange girl.
In the early days, the interest was purely working, she sat for hours in front of the window into the world of her future, even recording someone's sneeze, at night she scratched with a black pen on a crumpled sheet, which had to be used as a pillow at moments when sleep dared to come without knocking, but the dreams of a girl who would soon become the main meaning of all of them The existences were loud, as the film studio, which shot them with special effects, played with them like a kitten with a ball of yarn. This even led to the fact that the volume had to be turned down to a minimum at night, or even to watch without sound at all, so that, God forbid, someone would not wake up... Such gatherings led to a short-term coma, from which it was possible to get out only after five difficult and black days. In the dark, something incomprehensible and shapeless accused emotion of obsession with the blue screen, and it is worth correctly calculating the forces for concentration so as not to fall into insomnia or stay with gastritis, if, of course, it could appear, she did not study anatomy, she does not know if has a stomach, because such a desire to keep an eye on everyone will not lead to anything good. But interest higher than above the health.
After another long dream, four cans of energy drink sparkled in the light of the refrigerator, opening almost at the same moment. It is necessary to prepare properly for the next description of everything that can be seen and heard.
And so, a body in a long nightgown flops onto a soft wide sofa, moving closer to the pillows and clicking a black pen, preparing to record a new day from the life the stars in the screen.
It was then that the eyes first caught on the masterful work of the most senior in the headquarters. She appeared somehow unexpectedly and was ingrained, like a cherry stain on a white sheet, deeply, completely, you cannot erase from your head. Palms slowly and smoothly, like a leaf floating along a stream, turned levers, pressed buttons and soothing music began to play in head, calming electrified nerves, turning them into a soft toffee candy. Judging by the noise from the worldview screen, the girl who was being controlled had some kind of hockey tournament, those waiting, in fact, were poorly enlightened in terms of information about a person who would soon need help expressing himself in the real world, what Anxiety constantly complained about in head. But workers immediately told about girl's hobbies.
The tablet fell to bent knees, the pen following him.
It was excellent.
She knows what she's doing.
Calm, focused and oozing bright sunlight.
A loud beep. The tournament is over. Who won and who lost didn't really matter, but the name that the redhead wrote just for show stuck hedgehog needles into her skin. Joy, that's what emotions were called her.
Now, any nighttime gathering in the company of waste paper and pillows was due to only one interest: to watch the magnificent work of the yellow sun, without writing down anything from the word at all. She has enough of what has been written in the past time, now she just wants to watch. In fact, it doesn't matter what she doing. It is pleasant to the soul from every action on the part of the most important in the department. Anxiety could watch her for hours, watch every turn of her head, every uneven and energetic step of her long legs, every crease in her dress that formed as soon as the hostess sat down somewhere, the flutter of barely visible eyelashes, the hands that pressed the buttons of the control panel confidently, harmoniously like a bird with wings in flight, for expressing happiness from his own work; the whole euphoria was better than a house of cards in the land of imagination, the main thing was not to let anyone get close so that the structure would not collapse and the workers refused to rebuild the magnificent palace again.
Anxiety was always quietly indignant whenever someone came closer than two meters to the screen. The angry look was not intimidating, it only showed a sick madness and obsession, from the side similar to the picture of a dog guarding a treasure.
— When was the last time you slept? — uncharacteristically for herself, Ennui began to worry, lowering the telephone and slightly frightened by the sight of her friend in front of her.
The question was brazenly ignored, which did not suit colleague, I had to step back and preferably forget the thin little body with red eyes from lack of sleep and severe bruises under them, so that, God forbid, I would no longer find the nightmarish picture presented a minute earlier.
Thoughts of working days at the general staff were floating in aching head... She is next to Joy... They control the remote control together.
Together...
Side by side...
The malachite eyes gradually close, revealing fog and darkness in front of them, without a condemning voice somewhere in the distance. She has not slept for two months, there is no strength for imagination from the word at all, a smile on her face, and in her hands a hugged pillow with "Joy" written crookedly on the corner.
— And how long have you been doing this pampering?.. — the awakened Anger one quietly interrupted the idyll of memories, obviously from the noise, Anxiety is terribly noisy, for sure, and why was someone else awake, of course, because of her. In his night clothes, with a frown, of course, he did not look somehow frightening, rather funny and awkward, but the confidence in his sleepy, and slightly hoarse voice, rang off in the ear passages, causing dense goosebumps hidden behind the fabric of a striped nightgown.
— How did you wake up? — a nervous emotion muttered with slight disgust, but immediately stopped and modestly answered the question posed by Anger in a whisper. — To be precise, — with a thoughtful and tired look, Anxiety, slightly lowering her head, looked at her trembling hands, examining the small pads on the phalanges and mentally bending each one, hiding it in a warm, stress-free palm, flashing her nails gnawed at the root. She didn't want to answer so much, she didn't want to see anyone at all, especially now, when she is sitting so comfortably and elegantly in front of the remote control, controlling dreams. — Long enough.
— Understood. — I raise my palm in front of a slightly embarrassed face due to the fact that I noticed the surveillance hidden from everyone, I frown a sleepy and dissatisfied face. — Go to sleep. Right now.
For the first time in their entire lives, the hurried thin legs walked as slowly and reluctantly as they could. The eyes in pathetic attempts tried to grab at least a small corner of the belover's night clothes, but only slightly angry red eyes rushed into the face, motivating them to move their pelvic limbs a little faster. In a mad head, the strongest storm began with the flood and destruction of numerous buildings, fears that Anger could blab to everyone about a small and even a little intimate secret of one of the staff members were indescribably terrifying. I wonder if there are the same emotions in the head as they are? If so, then Anxiety is run by a fool who is always afraid of everything and shies away from every breath of any animal, pulling at every control lever with indescribable force, breaking the remote control into splinters with absolutely unplanned movement. The springs of a small mattress do not even bend under a weightless body, the feeling of levitation, which gives peace of mind, is a modest but caring gift from Joy to improve sleep and maximum peace of mind so that productivity does not deteriorate. And the blanket... It's like hiding behind a cloud...
"He definitely told her." — something whispered in an unfamiliar voice, first in the right and then in the left ear, increasing the discomfort in the bed place.
How did he hear her? How did he wake up? How did it happen?
Why is it that even after all the comforts provided in bed, always feels so hard and, no matter how funny it sounds, disturbing? Sleep tonight refused even to fight without rules against the vile and killing stream of thoughts that enveloped the fragile body in thin streams and squeezed until the bones cracked. It's hard to breathe, face and back are so wet. Why is everything so sticky and sickeningly disgusting? She want to cry so much... Why is head so heavy? He would tell her, he had already told her, how disgusting it was. It's disgusting don't understand someone for their simple interest, for a simple hobby. But She's guilty, guilty, guilty!
Heavy tears leave treacherous wet footprints on the beige pillow in shallow tracks, aggravating the situation. She's tired, that's enough, it pisses off! Orange palms slap the head with all their might in the area of the temples, ending the killing moral pain, starting physical pain instead. It is necessary to live until the beginning of the working day. Must live to... Must... Perhaps the blow was not calculated, but only a couple of minutes passed and the hysteria instantly passed, the main alarmist was able to fall asleep, constantly tossing and turning in her sleeping place. She doesn't know how to sleep, she doesn't know how to work, she just goes crazy for all ten out of ten.
"You're not going to do anything, right?" — Ennui asked herself, lying on the bed opposite from Anxiety, hiding behind a plaid blanket from the raging flames on the mattress. — "It's useless." — calmly and in her own indifferent manner, she answers herself and barely audibly inhales through her sharp nose, watching the finished performance of one actor.