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The stagnant night air was suffocating in Glisten’s lungs. The quiet was a deafening, oppressive presence that held him hostage in his own bed and whispered recollected tales of all the failures he’s suffered. He could feel a fire smoldering in his gut, slowly heating his ichor to unbearable levels and screaming at him for daring to try to sleep.
He couldn’t stand it anymore, he had to move, to do something other than lie still and ruminate. So he peeled himself off his mattress and pushed aside the sheer curtains draped around him, revealing his room’s proper night hues.
Glisten grabbed the fluffy robe on his vanity and slipped it around his form, tying it snug around his waist to ensure it wouldn’t fall. He clasped his fingers on the brass knob of his door, and with a light breath, pulled it open.
The hallway air was far cooler than that of his room, clawing at any bit of skin not covered by his garb. He slid his door back into place and pulled his robe tighter around his chest.
Not a soul disturbed Glisten’s journey to the elevator. Very few of his floormates had any difficulty sleeping, so no one was awake to ask about his intentions with being out of his room at night. That was particularly nice considering that even Glisten didn’t even know his own intentions; he had no idea where he was headed or where he wanted to end up, just that he had to move.
He ran his gaze over the many buttons on the elevator’s floor panel, and eventually settled on the lobby floor. If nothing else, he could take a long walk around Gardenview’s entrance and sort out his thoughts. The shaft clicked and rumbled as the gears pushed him up to the very top, then halted and opened the door with a ding.
Glisten stepped out and took in his surroundings - the gaping elevator room was hardly recognizable under the pale moonlight shining through the window above: the bushes grew ashy under the critical stare of the moon, and the tree in the middle of the area seemed to stretch all the way up into the sky as if to shield its fellow plant life from its glaring.
Glisten made his way around the centerpiece and into the front entrance. Under the minimal light seeping in from behind him, he could almost see children bustling in and out, almost hear the hiss of the train’s breaks, almost feel the tug of tiny hands begging for his individual attention. He was constantly surrounded by adoring fans back then, but those days are long gone.
He stopped between the shops where Dandy and Dyle would stand, eagerly exchanging parents’ money for tickets and bracelets and waving families off on their way out. They’d hand out pamphlets detailing which floors were hosting events that day and coupons for a free drink from the dining section and invitation for meet-and-greets with the most popular Toons. Glisten still couldn’t believe he was never allowed to join that lineup, with how children nearly piled on top of each other in an effort to get closer to him any time he entered a room. But he knew his own worth, knew that if he joined the other “main Toons” wouldn’t get any attention to themselves - at least, that’s the narrative he’d repeat.
He shook off the darkness that came with that thought and turned back. The lobby clearly wasn’t doing anything to help him settle down, so he’d try another floor. But as he set his sights back on the elevator room, he noticed a detail he’d missed before. Up high in the tree, sat quietly atop one of the thicker branches, sat a figure of purple and blue. Glisten cocked an eyebrow and headed closer to get a better look. In the closer proximity, a twirling silver key came into view, and with it the hum of a melody.
“Boxten?”
The echo of Glisten’s voice jammed the music box’s key, stopping the tune with a jolt and wracking his body. His arms flailed as he tried to recenter his balance before he could fall from his perch. Once he was steadied, he turned to find the source of the startling noise.
”G…Glisten? What are you doing here?”
”I could ask you the same question.”
Boxten began making his way down the branch and stood on the somewhat flat platform where the trunk split into sections. He peered over at Glisten, then offered a hand. Glisten took it and planted his foot against the bark to help Boxten pull him up.
”I couldn’t sleep,” he finally explained.
”So you climbed a tree?”
”The stars are nice…” Boxten’s key swayed back and forth as he gazed back up at the sky above. Sure enough, the twinkling lights were extra bright through the crystalline glass, painting a glittery framework for the moon.
”I couldn’t sleep, either,” Glisten muttered. He didn’t exactly enjoy admitting to such a shortcoming, but of all Toons, he knew his secret was safe with Boxten. He wasn’t a gossiper nor a Toon of many words, so the likelihood of the information reaching any other Toons was small enough to have justified a few confessions of such a nature in the past.
Boxten hummed absently, still locked onto the scene blanketing the glass above them. Glisten doubted he even registered what he’d said - he got like that sometimes, when something caught his attention.
Glisten settled next to him and sat back against the base of a branch. Boxten tore his gaze off the sky to investigate the movement in his peripherals, and suddenly, the gem catching his eyes was Glisten.
”Boxy? What… is there something on my face?”
Only then did Boxten realize he’d been staring, and he hung his head from embarrassment. “Your face… i-it’s reflecting the stars,” he whispered.
The air on Glisten’s face suddenly grew cooler as the words gained a new meaning in his mind. “Oh! Uh… Well, I am a mirror, after all.”
”Mhm…”
The air between them thickened for a long while, but as the silence grew more comfortable, they both relaxed again. Memories swirled in Glisten’s mind, but he didn’t mind these. Any time spent with Boxten left a positive haze behind, even when it started with him waking him up for the millionth time. He opened his mouth to recall one of those times aloud when he felt a weight on his shoulder.
Boxten’s key wound up a soft melody as he leaned against Glisten. His breath evened out, bobbing his shoulders up and down like waves on an ocean. It was a peaceful sight, far more so than any time he was awake, but it drew a small laugh from Glisten’s chest.
”How did you fall asleep in a tree…? You’re so odd,” he muttered. There wasn’t much room for him to speak however, as he himself soon joined him in a dream.