The book he’d bought the other day was gone. It wasn’t in his coat pocket or in any of the piles of books or shelves he had in his living room. It was gone and he had no idea how he had lost it. He distinctly remembered putting it in his coat pocket and when he’d checked, he’d found no holes in there, but the book was still gone and he had no idea how.

After the day before, he wasn’t surprised things weren’t going well for him. All he wanted was to lie in his room and read his new book, but that wasn’t possible. He hadn’t even gone to work yet that day because he hadn’t wanted to, all he’d wanted to do was relax and try to ignore what had happened down in the market.

Sadness hadn’t come to see him after they’d found him with Confidence the day before, for which he was grateful but also not surprised. They were disappointed in him, but not enough to say anything directly to him.

Physically, it left him in peace, but mentally, his mind was a wild mess of thoughts. He’d been caught and surely there would be some kind of punishment for it, but so far, there hadn’t been. Over the centuries, Sadness had briefly seen him talking with people, but quick explanations had always allowed him to get away with it. It had always been quick questions because he’d been buying something, necessary conversations.

Talking with Confidence had never been necessary. It hadn’t even been his choice, even if he wanted to talk to him, he’d just gone along with whatever Confidence said. The only time he’d actually gone out of his way to talk to the other man, he’d given him book recommendations and been caught by the one person who couldn’t catch him.

If there was a punishment for talking to people, Lonely didn’t know what it was. He’d never been caught before, but Sadness had promised him long ago that something would happen should he break the rules created centuries ago. He supposed he would find out what the punishment was soon, but it couldn’t be anything worse than what Sadness already gave him.

Even so, he couldn’t stop thinking about what was coming for him. Maybe Sadness would forget or maybe they didn’t care that much. All it had been was book recommendations, it wasn’t anything. But if Confidence told Sadness how much they had talked over the last few weeks, then he would be in a lot of trouble.

Never in the long centuries they had been alive had any emotion been punished more than being excluded from a play or a Performance, which had only been as a result of not doing work. Lonely always did his work, even though he didn’t want to. The rules the emotions had to follow were simple, do your work, do it right, do it every day. Lonely had extra rules; don’t talk to anyone, don’t have friends, be his emotion as best he could, just like everyone else.

Irritated and with nothing else to do, he stalked into his bare workroom and picked up the violin that sat in the corner. He might as well work and take his mind off the book for a while. He’d probably find it in some stupid place later that day and chide himself for putting it somewhere so silly.

Playing his violin wasn’t the best way to take his mind off of anything, but he didn’t want to read any of his other books and he didn’t want to go down to the marketplace to search for it either, not after running into Sadness. Work was the only thing he could do for the moment, even if he hated it.

As per usual, he let his music take him, his mind drifting along with the sad notes his hands played. Between one blink and the next, the visions appeared, but he tried not to pay much attention to them. He didn’t want to feel any worse than he already was.

Instead, he lost himself in the song he was playing. It didn’t sound like anything he knew, but something his mind had made up on the spot. Sometimes, he played songs he’d heard in Zajed or from his visions, but a lot of the time, he came up with something new. His song was a sad one, a scared one, with long, deep notes that echoed in his ears. He poured his emotion into the song, the loneliness he didn’t want to feel anymore.

Swaying from side to side, he sped up, the song nearing its crescendo. He closed his eyes, for once allowing himself to listen to the music he played instead of ignoring it like he did everything else. Then came the creak of a floorboard behind him and his song cut off with a squeak so long it hurt his ears.

He turned, panting loudly and blanched when Confidence gave him an apologetic smile. While it was generally accepted that the emotions leave their homes unlocked when they were there, welcoming anyone to visit them, Lonely had never expected someone to show up unannounced.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Confidence said, still smiling. “I just wanted to listen. Your music is beautiful.”

It wasn’t. Anything that spread loneliness to other beings wasn’t beautiful, it was awful, but it was his job. If he didn’t do it, then humans would suffer from the imbalance and he would be overwhelmed with his own emotion. “Thank you,” he said stiffly, not wanting to argue. “What are you doing here?”

Confidence reached into the dark overcoat he was wearing, showing off the grey waistcoat he wore underneath, and pulled out a familiar book. “I have this. I wanted to return it to you,” he said, something sheepish in his eyes.

Placing his violin back where it belonged, Lonely reached for the book. “Where did you find it? I’ve been looking for it all morning,” he said, smiling when Confidence handed it to him.

The taller man’s cheeks darkened and Lonely frowned, not sure of what it meant. “I might have taken it from your pocket the other day,” he muttered.

“You did what?” Lonely asked, unable to wrap his mind around what the other man was saying. “Why?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” Confidence said with a shrug as if it were that simple. But it wasn’t.

“You shouldn’t,” Lonely told him, itching to push him towards the front door. He had never thought to lock it, part of him silently hoping that someone would walk in, but it was such a bad idea.

Confidence shrugged again, but there was something in his eyes that betrayed his calm posture. “Why not? Don’t you want to talk to me?” he asked.

“I do!” Lonely answered before he could stop himself, wincing at his own stupidity. “But it’s not allowed. Sadness and Disgust-”

“Aren’t here, so what does it matter? Why should you listen to them? If you want to talk to me, then talk to me,” he replied, his tone completely serious.

Lonely was stumped for answers, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. “But… They are our leaders! They made up the rules,” he argued, even though he hated it. “Aren’t they your friends?”

“Only because Stress forced me onto them. They’re nice enough, I suppose, but I don’t like the rules they made,” he said and smiled at him. “I wanted to talk to you. I don’t see why I can’t.”

His hands were shaking and he bunched them into his white shirt to hide them. “Because…” he said, but trailed off. Because he was Lonely, was what he was supposed to say, but he didn’t want to be anymore. Instead, he said nothing, ignoring Confidence’s probing look.

“Look, I’m sorry I took your book. I just wanted a reason to come and see you,” he said and let out a laugh. “It was stupid really. I could have just shown up and it would have been fine. I guess I thought I needed an excuse in case someone asked what I was doing, especially after yesterday.”

“It’s fine. Yesterday was normal,” he said and ran a hand through his hair. “Sadness isn’t angry, right?”

Confidence frowned and pursed his lips for a moment. “Not that I could tell. They asked me what we were doing, but I told them you were helping me out and that I asked you. Don’t they let you talk to people?”

“Why do you think I live up here? It’s not by choice,” he answered and shook his head.

Confidence looked offended as if his words had directly insulted him. “I’ll talk to Sadness about it. That’s not fair,” he said and grabbed his shoulders. Lonely’s cheeks heated up and he hoped it wasn’t too noticeable. “I don’t like the rules they made, Lonely, they’re wrong and unfair. There are others who agree with me. If we talk to them, maybe I could get them to fix-”

“Don’t!” he yelled and pulled away. “You’ll only make things worse. Just leave it.”

“But-”

“What did you really come here for?” he asked. He needed to change the topic before he agreed to what Confidence was proposing. He couldn’t show how desperately he wanted things to change, but it was impossible. All it would end with was more trouble for him, possibly even more seclusion, because Sadness would know that his and Confidence’s conversations were more than what they said they were.

Confidence sighed and his gaze dropped to the floor. “I want to get to know you,” he whispered.

The words silenced Lonely for a moment and he was sure that even his breathing had stopped. “Why?”

“Because…” Confidence said and trailed off in much the same way Lonely had earlier, letting out a loud sigh. “I don’t know, to be honest, but something in me wants to know you. I just… I just want to get to know you, Lonely. I want to be your friend.”

There was a long moment where Lonely had no idea what he was supposed to do. His eyes stung with unshed tears but he couldn’t reach up to wipe them away without making it obvious. No one had ever said anything like that to him before and he’d never expected it. He wasn’t allowed friends.

The first few times he and Confidence had talked, he was sure he’d just wanted something from him, not actual friendship. But maybe he’d been wrong. Unless it was a trick set up by Sadness, but he couldn’t see what the point of that would be.

He took a deep breath, not looking Confidence in the face. “Would- Would you like something to drink?” he asked, even though he only had tea and water.

Confidence beamed at him and not ten minutes later, they were sitting in his living room with steaming mugs of tea, staring at the books in silence. Neither of them had said anything since they’d sat and Lonely couldn’t help but feel bad about it. He’d invited him in but he had no idea how to entertain guests.

“I’m sorry, I don’t-”

“I’ve been trying to count the books,” Confidence interrupted, still smiling like nothing was out of the ordinary. “But I can’t. How many do you have?”

All he could do was shrug. “I don’t know. I’ve been collecting them from the moment they were first made. I loved them,” he said and blushed at his silliness.

“You’re very passionate about them. Have you tried writing one?” Confidence asked.

He faltered for a moment, watching the kindness in the other man’s eyes. There was no judgement in them, just kindness and curiosity, something he didn’t know how to handle. “No, I never have. I don’t think I would be very good,” he answered.

“Ah, don’t say that,” Confidence said, standing and throwing his arms wide to gesture at all the books. “You’ve read so much, you’d know everything you need to know. You just need practice and… Well…” He broke off with a short laugh and Lonely knew that he had been about to say his name.

He sighed and sipped at his tea. “Maybe one day,” he answered even though he knew he never would. It wasn’t something he had really thought about, but even if he tried it, no one would read them. “Would you like to borrow one of the books?”

Confidence laughed at him again and the sound was like music to his ears, something like what he wanted his violin music to be like. “I think I have enough books after yesterday but thank you,” he said and stopped for a moment to sip his tea. “How about, next week we meet in the communal gardens so I can tell you what I think about them? How does that sound?”

It took him a moment to register the words, but when he did, a smile broke out on his face. “That sounds nice.”