Smile For Me Week 2026

My friend is a flower seller too. Baba works at my friends shop.

On the free days we went to the park and get Ice cream. It was Me and Menace and Kamal. I like chocolate the most. I like ice cream. I used to not get it. Kamal says some Ice cream is okay but not always because that is bad for your teeth. On Sunday it rained so we stayed home. Flowers need lots of rain. Some flowers don’t. They are called Kaktea. I like flowers. Baba likes flowers too. But he don’t eat them.

I drew him a daisy. He crode but he said it was because he was happy. He always cri a lot sometimes. Sometimes he is sad. But he says he is not as sad as when he was small.

I understand that, I am not sad anymore and I do not cry only sometimes and I grew five inches.

She never had a real name as far as he knew, but in his mind she would always be Agnes.

She was the highest telephone pole around the block, a dark, towering beaut, covered in wires that draped around her like an assortment of necklaces.

He remembers the first time he saw her and how gobsmacked he was by everything about her.

He had to crane his neck to truly take her in and it almost made his heart jump from his rib cage.

The deep, static hum in his ears… and her smell. He never knew a whiff of wood could smell like THAT.

Everything about her was bodaciously amazing and he spend a lot of days on that street just to be around her, tinkering and building things from trash and things he fished from the lake just to be close to her comforting, low humming voice.

Now Gerry understood why his sister could never stop yappin about her classmate, how she was so smart and wonderful, so kind and how her blue curls shimmered in the sun like waves.

But oh boy, did that lass have nothing on his Agnes.

And one day she was gone.

One bad night, one thunderstorm, one badly aimed strike of lightning and she was gone. Just gone. It would take a while to reconnect everything, to put up a new, “safer” utility pole, a sleeker looking thing, equally as massive but with less cable adorning him, but his Agnes? Gone.

Gone.

And suddenly Gerry understood why his sister was so down in the dumps when her classmate moved away.

But now there was Martha.

A lady as imposing as she was beautiful. A machine whose purpose was lost on him, maybe she was just made to be drop dead gorgeous.

He was pretty much in love as soon as he laid his peepers on her. Strong, loud, noisy. Steamy pipes ssssh-ing and zzzzsh-ing and huffing with every puff of smoke she released into the world. Dented steel and big screws and a wide body that made him feel like he was running out of words by the minute.

And what a smile. Oh what a smile.

How could he not have fallen for her?

It’s the janitor who tries to tellim first.

Gerry doesn’t quite remember what he was doing in the boiler room At the time, he thinks it had something to do with that wacko kid, tried to offer him some vampire protections , but when he was poking around the water to see if some useful junk would turn up, he suddenly heard a voice.

They had a pleasant lil gab at first, exchanging names, were they came from and such.

… But it wouldn’t take too long till he got to the meat of the soup.

He tried to break it to him gently, poor sod, tried to tell him about the big boss and how he could not be trusted, how anything Habit built for this place only spelled disaster, that whatever his beloved was made for, it was something foul.

Gerry also doesn’t quite remember how he reacted to this humbug. He thinks it included a lot of fancy words he picked up from his hometown and would not repeat in front of a lady or his sweet mom, but he remembers how he stepped out of the room fuming more than the boiler itself.

What did he know? Nothing thats what’s he knows.

Next who tries to warn him is the nervous fella from the roof. Sucker, but Gerry has a soft spot for him. Nice to have someone in this place who speaks almost normally compared to everyone else.

He makes pleasant conversation. Pleasant, awkward, stilted conversation, before he finally gets down to business.

Says how he must like that machine a lot.

And Gerry answers that he sure does, she’s the love of his live! His sweet lady! His soon to be Mrs. Podunk. Ain’t no more beautiful machine on the face of the earth!

Nervous guy makes a weird face for a second like he is caught between a bad smell and a sneeze, but catches himself quickly.

Asks him if Gerry knew what she… does…

And Gerry furrows his brows at him behind the wielders mask, pressing the trigger of his torch a few times for good measures.

Tells him that what she does is make him a pretty darn happy man and asks if he gots anything to say about that.

And Nervous guys lips get a bit thinner and he starts to fidget, blabber, oh she really is a beauty, he says, he’s sure she makes him happy, he says, but if … Gerry ever thought she could maybe be… possibly… if he ever felt faint in her presence, if…. You- you know what? F- forget it.

And he turns to leave. Throws one gaze over his shoulder though and says, quietly, like he is taking all of his nerve to say it to him that… he just hopes… hopes that Gerry would be safe in the future.

And then he trucks back up to the roof again, says that Flower shmoe is probably waiting on him.

It takes seeing her blueprint to fully believe him and Gerry’s first instinct is to disregard it. Nah. Nahhhh. Why? Who would do that? Who would build such a beautiful dame only make her do something like THIS? What kinda fool of a man would make the most gorgeous machine in the world and design her to puff poison into peoples faces? And draw smiley faces on her blueprints?! Like this was fun?! Like someone was having a big guffaw at making her do such a thing.

He is being played.

His head snaps around looking all over the place. Okay who did this? Who thought they could pull his girls name through the mud like that??

There’s nobody else on his floor when he finds it, which doesn’t help him figure out who the culprit is. His first instinct is the janitor. Then he decides the poor shmuck would not be brave enough to leave anything in front of his door in the morning. Guy never leaves his walls as is…

Goateyes from the roof seems like an obvious second suspect. He hasn’t gots the guts to say things in person, but the story of how he had quit his job had spread round the Habitat like a wildfire… just as him being a giant chicken about stairs. Deadly afraids of em. Only reasons he’s up on the roof is because the elevator stops up there.

… so would that nervous Nelly really have the gall to come up here and show him?

… There is a third option.

That florist.

That florist has been running all round the place a bajigagillion times, doing the weirdest stuff, running errands, kissin folks, waterin plants… for no discernible reason at all, except to make folks… happy.

But why would they?! They helped him out of a pickle before! Got him a gift to give to her! What was this about?? Why fake something like that? What was this blud even PLANNING?!

He makes his way down to her, fuming, blueprints still in hand, as he gets back to work again. Gotta make doubloons somehow, gotta give his lady the live she deserves, a new coat, maybe some new screws, hell, maybe he could even replace that rusty part on her side.

The day keeps going as always, hot, dusty, no customers to speak off even though he almost sells the lawyers watch to himself… but he keeps looking back at her.

… what was Martha made for?

If the blueprints are to be trusted, those big pipes could connect to… something… could be anything really! Water, fire… gas.

He shakes the thought from his head, trying not to dwell on it.

…. The big event… just what was that?

The doc has not been giving anyone much info about it, has been very hushhush in fact. Doesn’t seem to really want anyone to smile, doesn’t really want anyone to skedaddle either. Which is WEIRD. Wants em all here… in one place…. Don’t want anyones to leave.

… The prints mention something like “Nay-trous-ox-aid” if that’s what it’s pronounced like. What was that? What was that? He heard it before… something toxic? Something chemical? His brother has always been better at this stuff… says it smells sweet and irony…

Sometimes his head spins when he’s near her.

Not like he did when he was near Agnes. Different. It’s oughta be love… it’s oughta be real good love that makes you outta breath… till you have to huff to get some oxygen back. Kinda love that gives you headaches….

His hands shake a little as he tries to put something together.

He doesn’t think about it, he doesn’t dwell on it, he doesn’t care… he doesn’t stay in the courtyard as long as he usually does.

And he absolutely does NOT lie in his bed that night, mulling over the evidence, holding tears back. And if a tear did manage to escape his peepers it was a very MANLY and TOUGH tear, the type of tears well dressed men in suits wore in movies before they said something cool like “My life ain’t something for the likes of yours Charlene, the rainy dark cesspools of this city are where I belong.” Before they turned away with a dramatic spin of their coat.

He does not want it to be real. She couldn’t be like that.

The next day the tall lady has started to pack her bags and photos and the funky artist on her floor has already called a cab for the next day.

The place feels so empty.

He makes his way to her one last time, can’t just leave her like this, has to let her know.

Puts his hand on her side. Martha lets out a huffing noise and she feels warm. So warm, so pretty…his Martha.

Stays with her for the entire day like that, leaned against her, watching the sky, listening to her metallic groans and the huffing of her pipes. Inhales the sweet, irony scent… what a horrible scent, makes his head hurt… what a lovely scent, very earthy, very Martha.

He had them since high school, nothing new to him, nothing to worry about. If anything it was a good time to get some reading done or to do some cleaning.

At least that used to be the case until he started rooming with his ex boss.

Boris face is unimpressed as he stands in the doorway of their kitchen, illuminated by the light of the small lamp hanging over the table where Kamal was doing some studying , arms crossed, a frown on his face and Kamal hasn’t felt like he got caught with his hands in the cookie jar for ages, but Habits scowl could keep up with the most sternest of mothers.

“… Heeey buddy.”

“Kamal…. It’s free am.”

“Hey….hey now I was not pulling an all nighter again.”

Boris brows furrow further.

“No! No, swear! Not this time!”

Kamal holds his hands up in defense, hoping to convey to his friend that he is indeed telling the truth, even if his track record did not do him any favors in this regard. He was a night owl at heart, much to his early birds displeasure.

“I just couldn’t… just couldn’t sleep is all.”

Boris expression softens a little, even though he still doesn’t seem quite convinced.

“Couldn’t sleehp?”

Kamal sighs, lifting his cup to get another sip of tea, only to realize in disappointment that it has already gotten cold.

“Yeah. Must be a full moon or whatever people say these days.”

He pulls away from the table, trying to scooch his chair as little as possible to not wake up Putunia quietly, before he heads to the counter.

“… want some tea too boss?”

Boris thinks for a second and nods, sitting down at the table as Kamal pulls the mug Putunia made for his last birthday from the shelf. The rose she’d drawn on it looked more like a red cabbage, but it was still Boris favorite mug.

“I’ve been trying to get some shut eye since midnight, but nothings working. Trust me, if I could have I would have.”

Boris voice is mildly concerned as he asks

“… Did yuo… habe a bad dream?”

Kamal takes a second to register both the tone and assumption of the question and he does his best to dispel any worry as he shoots Boris a tired smile.

“Hm? Uh. Nah. Nah that’s usually not an issue at all. Worst I get are the dreams where I flunk sixth grade PE class…”

His joke makes Boris snort a little and he visibly relaxes.

“S just a thing that happens to me sometimes. I… I don’t know… WHY it happens, but it ain’t that bad… two sugar?”

“Du we have hunny?”

“Yeah. Want that?”

“Yes pls.”

They share their tea in comfortable silence, Kamals feet on the pleasantly cool tiled kitchen floor as he absentmindedly rubs his thumb over the warm porcelain of the mug and Boris blearily drinking his chamomile tea, clearly still tired and getting ready to go back to bed.

The clock ticks on

Half an hour passes before Boris shifts, yawning as he does.

“Heading back?”

“Hmm-hmm… I em not cut out for this.”

Boris gets up, setting his mug quietly next to the sink.

He turns back to Kamal and stops in his tracks for a second, like his mind just realized something.

“If… you’d come beck to bed we could… do something?”

“… do something? At this time?”

“Sumfing to help you sleeps I mean.”

“I mean… sure? I’m not gonna count sheep though.”

Boris rolls his eyes.

“Ibm not gonna make you count sheep.”

“Aight… worth a try I guess.”

The sheets are still as crumpled a the way he left them when he went to the kitchen and Boris, the sweetheart he is, insists of fluffing up his pillows for him before Kamal lays down again.

The blankets are refreshingly cool as Kamal gets tucked in and he has to admit, it was nice being cared for like this, even if he wasn’t sure he would fall asleep anytime sooner just because Boris insisted on doing so.

Speak of the devil, the sheets next to him shift as Boris kneels down on his side of the bed and looks down at him with a calm smile.

“Compfy?”

“Extremely.” Kamal admits.

It feels a bit funny to be tucked in from all sides like he is expected to pupate overnight, but he cannot deny it’s relaxing.

Boris nods in approval, before his expression turns a little bit more bashful and he tucks a curl behind his ear.

“Sooo… I’ve been thenking of somefing that may help but it maye be a bit… spooky.”

Kamal wiggles in what could be considered mild alarm.

“Spooky… uhhhhh… spooky how exactly?”

“Not bahd!” Boris assures him quickly.

“But I… would have to.. yuo knoe…”

… Ahhhhh. That thing he does.

Truly, it was something that Kamal still considered a bit unsettling and indeed “spooky”, but it was not something that actually concerned or scared him anymore.

He had known about Boris second form for a while now, seen it, lived with it, and apart from the occasional jumpscare when he went down to get a glass of water… it had rapidly stop to creep him out the more time went on.

Truthfully, he had started to grow fond of it in a way. Remembering something pulling a blanket over him while he was half asleep, or seeing something scoop under Putunias doorway, just to make sure she was asleep and well in her room, it was less like being haunted by a ghost and more like being protected by a shadow.

“Oh! Oh that’s fine. Knock yourself out big guy.”

He gets a happy, gap toothed smile in response, as Boris settles next to him.

“Obkay! Just… try to keep an opin mind…”

He changes between blinks.

The shadowy figure smiles down on Kamal and the dental assistant gives his best to give him a reassuring smile.

“… Hey there.”

The shadow does not answer in response but Kamal thinks he sees the glow of his smile grow just a tiny bit brighter.

Boris hand reaches out towards him.

The sensation of his touch feels a bit like the static on a tv screen Kamal thinks, as his long fingers gently tuck a strand of loose hair out of Kamals face.

He starts slowly, gliding his thumb over Kamals brows and the bridge of his nose, gently caressing the sides of his face, before his fingers gently tangle into the his hair and scratch over Kamals scalp, the tingling sensation sending a pleasant buzz trough his brain.

He is not quite sure a head massage is going to help him sleep, but it sure isn’t something he is going to turn down and he has to admit, His eyelids do grow heavier by the second.

Boris puts his palm on his forehead and stops, causing Kamal to open his eyes again just so and as he meets his friends eyes he realizes that Boris is looking at him with a sort of inquiring look.

His palm slides down his forehead and over his eyebrows slightly and Kamal just gives him a gentle nod, before Boris eyes completely cover his eyelids.

Everything around him becomes completely covered in black.

Not even the sort of darkness that exists in a room that has been completely shielded from all sunlight, this feels different somehow, there is no light at all anymore, just black. Not just darkness but just… dark.

The humm in his brain increases.

Have his arms felt that heavy before?

He can actively feel himself fall asleep and part of Kamal thinks that he SHOULD be worried about witnessing it so clearly, but the only thing he is left with is complete trust in Boris and the pleasant buzz in his mind… One… two….

He doesn’t even make it to three.

It’s 10 am when he finally wakes up again, disoriented, confused even and he takes a good minute to pierce together who he even is and what happend the night before.

Ah…. yeah that did help a lot actually.

Boris is already up, because of course he is, and Kamal can make out the Saturday morning tv already playing in the living room.

He makes his way downstairs still in his pajamas and is greeted to Boris mulling over a puzzle Nect to Putunia, who is transfixed on the tv and not even noticing the crumbs of cereal spread across her face.

“Oh! Good murnin …Iye already had breakfass but if yuo want some coffee deres still sum in the kitchen.”

Kamal makes his way over, still groggy, but feeling… oddly refreshed… glowing. His eyes fall onto Boris mug from yesterday and after rinsing it out he pours a bit of coffee for him as well, before adding enough milk to make it more of a milkshake than anything else, just how he knows Boris likes it.

When he comes back Putunia has switched her attention over to the Puzzle and now both her and Boris are kneeling next to the coffee table, mulling over the pieces together.

Kamal sets both of their cups down next to the side table before leaning over to press a Kiss on Boris temple.

“Mornin…”

Boris smiles before turning his head so he can return the kiss proper, not being bothered by Kamals morning breath and his expression turns into one of knowing.

“Moooornin~… did you have a good sleeps? :- )”