Burnout - An Inanimate Insanity Fanfic

3 - Assistance

**[WARNING!]**

**[THIS STORY CONTAINS: ABUSE, SELF HARM, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS, AND GENERAL VIOLENCE]**

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{ OJ POV }

A few days had passed since the incident yesterday. OJ yawned, stepping downstairs. Curiously, someone was up before him. His feet pattered quietly down the stairs into the living room. Everything was spotless. Not even a cobweb in sight. Food wafted from the dining hall, and he ran in there. It was set up perfectly, with each seat carrying its own dish. The food reminded him that he hadn't eaten at all yesterday. Nevertheless, he ran into the kitchen. There, he spotted the culprit, their rubbery complexion huddled over the sink washing the last of the dishes. They turned to face him.

"Hey OJ!"

"Balloon?" He walked further into the kitchen. "What did you..?"

"I cleaned the hotel for you! I could see you needed some help, so I decided to do the morning chores today!" Balloon grinned happily, as if expecting some sort of praise. Why would he praise him? HE was supposed to be the one up at 1am cleaning. HE was the one supposed to be consistently messing up with breakfast eggs and pancakes. Not Balloon. And now he had nothing to do. Nothing to keep him busy. Nothing at all. OJ blinked at Balloon. What was wrong with them? This was HIS job. It's his duty. Why did Balloon clean the hotel for him? Why did he cook breakfast for him? Did Balloon think he wasn't capable of it? Of course he was capable of doing things on his own! He could handle it! 

"I can do this stuff by myself!" He snapped.

"Oh..." Balloon fizzled a bit, shrinking, as he placed the final plate into the cabinet.

He took a deep breath. "Please, leave everything to me next time. Thank you for trying to help, though." 

Balloon nodded, and OJ left to the living room. Everyone was already gathering in their respective, usual, places. OJ wasn't used to having free time. He was a working man, not a lay-around man. He pressed his hands together, looking at his feet, then up and around. He searched for anything out of place that he could fix. A chair that needs pushing in? A fly that needed swatting? Paintbrush held an art class around this time. Maybe he could help there?

OJ hurriedly made his way to the craft room, peeking inside.

"...Now, color theory is, by definition, the body of practical guidance for color mixing and the visual effects of a specific color combination. Terminology is based solely on what's called the color wheel. I want you to implement one of these new color schemes into your art today."

The juice anxiously stepped inside; hands squeezed together in a proper manner. Paintbrush immediately took note of him, passing over to meet him.

"Hey, Paintbrush!" He greeted cheerily.

"Hi OJ. Did you need something? I'm in the middle of a lesson right now."

"Uhm, not anything specific? Just looking for something to do."

The tall brush blinked. "Uh, actually, it's all good here. Balloon came in today and restocked all the supplies, so we don't really need anything at the moment."

His hands tightened. "Ah! O-of course!" The two stood there for a long second. "I'll...be on my way then!"

"Yeah...." Paintbrush slowly closed the door. "...Bye."

The door clicked shut, and OJ was once again left on his own. He stood at the door. A few minutes later, he remembered something. "Oh! I can take the kids to school!" He walked back into the living room, expecting Bow, Goo, and the Cherries to be waiting for him. But they weren't there.