Chapter Text
"check, check, one two three.. is this thing on- a ha! Welcome to.... Fan's Fantastic Phantoms! Your one-stop shop to everything freaky, fearful, and frightening-!"
"-And fruity, looking at you."
"Cut!"
Fan set down the bulky camera. "You can't just yell out in the middle of recording, Lightbulb, you'll ruin the immersion! Paintbrush, tell her she's ruining the immersion!"
Paintbrush looked up from their spot on the warehouse floor. "You're just mad that she gives actually good commentary," They grunted as they pushed themself up, walking to a nearby crate. "There's nothing here for a good video, anyway."
Fan threw his hands up. "Then we'll make the content! You know, Paintbrush, you won't ever go far without being creative."
"Isn't that just lying?" Lightbulb pointed out.
"Wh-no!" Fan sputtered. "It's... just giving a good performance. It's not our fault that ghosts are sometimes unimaginative with their hauntings, but it is our duty to make these spectres sparkle!"
"Can we please go home, Fan? There is absolutely nothing here to record. And please stop taking anonymous tips off the internet, because this was obviously a fake." Paintbrush picked up the camera and began to put it back in its case. "We can find something in the morning, alright? The channel will be fine without another upload for a bit."
Fan opened his mouth, then shut it. He followed his crewmates out of the warehouse and back to the truck. As Fan reached for the passenger door, Lightbulb pushed him out of the way and slid into the seat. "Come on!" Fan cried. "The show is literally named after me, and I don't get to ride shotgun? Lightbulb almost threw me on the ground!" Paintbrush rolled down the passenger window. "My car, my rules. Not my fault you have no license." Lightbulb threw up a middle finger. "Yeah, girlfriend gets to be passenger princess! Away with ye!"
In the backseat, Fan started grumbling under his breath. "This is the third botched recording attempt in a row, our views are going to go down. I can feel it."
They drove in silence back to Fan's apartment. Paintbrush pulled the car into the designated parking space, and unlocked the doors with a pop. Fan was laying on the backseat, one arm dangling off and absently nudging old floor wrappers and trash. Suddenly Lightbulb's face appeared upside-down in his vision. "Come on, buddy! Don't'cha want to come inside?" Fan let out a groan in response, and was met with two arms wrapping around him. He slightly folded as Lightbulb carried him under one arm and he attempted to wrestle out of her grasp.
Paintbrush hauled open the trunk and began unloading the recording equipment. They handed Lightbulb a camera, which she reached for at the expense of Fan. He swayed back and forth in the air a few times before landing face-first on the pavement.
The group climbed the steep stairs of the apartment building with grim determination. Fan's apartment was at the very top of the building, a renovated family home with rickety floorboards and faulty wiring. Fan fumbled with the jammed lock on his door with his free hand, stumbling forward a bit when it finally unlocked.
A chill immediately hit the group, the space heaters working overtime since the apartment's heating broke. Fan needed to call the landlord about that. Again. Lightbulb shouldered her way past him and into the 'living room,' which was more of a bump in the wall than anything. The apartment was blessed with four rooms: the living room/dining room/kitchen, the bathroom (the only warm room in the house since it had a door), a bedroom that came with an old mattress and no bedframe that hasn't been touched since Fan moved in, and the... closet? Attic? Whatever it was, it was haunted. Maybe he should make a segment on that. Actually, nevermind. Nobody on the internet needed to see that.
"Hey, Fan, where do you want me to put this light?" Paintbrush called out. Fan blinked and gestured vaguely to the room as a whole. "Um, right there is fine." Paintbrush stared for a second, shrugged, and unceremoniously dropped the equipment at their feet.
After everything was piled in the middle of the main room, everyone congregated around Fan's small TV where lego Star Wars was loaded into the Xbox 360. Fan only had two controllers so, being the amazing host he was, he forced Lightbulb and Paintbrush to share. This was their weekly ritual after every recording session. This was their eighth playthrough of this game, and everyone had the puzzles memorized by heart at this point. Didn't stop them from playing, though.
Fan thought back through the month. Going through the motions of the game, he recalled last three recording attempts, losing more and more hope after each one. The subscriber count was going down. Of course, he knew he shouldn't be so hung up on numbers on a screen, but it felt good knowing all those eyes were on him. He was the face of the channel. Paintbrush and Lightbulb made the recording sessions possible, but all of the comments were praising his commentary, his work. He could admit it was selfish, but that's why it stayed an inside thought.
Fan needed a new video idea, and quick.