Fame Chapter Two

Instructions

As the sun melted from perfect gold into a gentle, dusky pink, Alice wandered along the winding path toward her little home. It wasn’t much—just a tiny cottage, barely big enough for one bat, tucked between wildflowers and tangled shrubs. Still, it was hers. The walk was quiet, the cobblestones warm beneath her feet, and the air tinged with the sweet scent of evening. Yet, as she listened to the soft hush of twilight settling over the town, Alice couldn’t help but feel the absence of Mexi at her side. For all her friend’s dramatics, Mexi always knew how to fill the silence. Alice paused at her front gate, glancing back down the path. Shadows stretched long, and the world seemed unusually still. A sliver of worry crept in—Mexi should have caught up by now, chattering or complaining about something. But the alleyways remained empty. With a sigh, Alice pushed open the cottage door and stepped inside. She lit a small lamp, casting a gentle glow across her cozy space. For a moment, she tried to shake off the unease. Maybe Mexi had simply taken another route or stopped to nap again. As Alice settled onto her favorite chair, she couldn’t ignore the unsettled feeling in her chest—a quiet sense that something, somewhere, had just gone wrong or was about to. But nevertheless, sleep still reached the quiet bat as the book she was reading fell off her lap. A sudden, piercing crash—like glass shattering—jerked Alice from her uneasy rest. The sound rang sharply in her sensitive ears, far louder than it would have been for most toons. She winced, pressing her hands to her head as the echo faded into a high, persistent ringing. Then, through the silence, she caught the faint sound of liquid dripping just outside her door. Heart pounding, Alice moved cautiously, her shadow flickering in the lamplight as she reached for the handle. She eased the door open and froze at the sight before her. A teacup toon lay sprawled on the cobblestones, her porcelain head fractured into jagged shards. Pale green tea pooled beneath her, seeping between the cracks in the stones. Alice’s breath caught in her throat—she didn’t recognize the toon at all. This must be a new arrival, and already she was broken. Alice didn’t waste a moment. She hurried to the fallen teacup toon, carefully scooping up her delicate body and gathering the jagged shards of her porcelain head. Green tea dripped through Alice’s trembling fingers as she cradled the broken pieces close. With the door quickly shut behind her, she carried the toon inside, heart racing. Setting the newcomer gently on her kitchen table, Alice arranged the shards with trembling care, trying to piece the head back together. The sight was both fragile and tragic—a newcomer, shattered before she’d even had a chance to find her place in this forgotten town. Alice fetched a clean cloth and dabbed away the tea, her mind whirring. Who was this toon, and what had happened to her? As she worked, she whispered softly, hoping the teacup toon could somehow hear, “Hang on, I’ll help you. You’re safe now.” Alice pressed the final shard into place, careful not to let her hands shake. She sat the teacup toon upright, her patched head wobbling ever so slightly but holding together. With a worried glance, Alice set a small kettle on the stove, listening anxiously as it began to bubble and steam. She poured the steaming water gently into the teacup toon, watching as the golden liquid filled her hollow form. “Please be alright… Please…” Alice whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. For a moment, nothing happened. The cottage was silent except for the soft hiss of the kettle. Alice held her breath, watching the toon for any sign of movement. Then, a faint crackle ran along the seams of the teacup’s head. The toon’s painted eyes fluttered, the green tea swirling inside her as if stirred by an invisible spoon. With a tiny gasp, the teacup toon blinked and looked around, dazed but alive. “W-here?! Where am I? Who are you! What is this place?!”