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I did it. I'm a finalist.
Needle still couldn’t really believe it. Her heart was pounding like the ceremony and Tennis Ball’s dramatic speech were two minutes ago. She never in a million years thought she’d make it this far, let alone surpass TB. Sure, she got decently far, but she mostly just floated, never particularly liked or disliked. Yet here she was now, one vote away from winning everything. She could prove Pencil and Coiny wrong, show them she didn't need them, finally get their respect—
And that farm chunk.
“So, final two, huh?”
The words made Needle jump. She had been alone here for a while now, staring up at the stars, the excitement of the sunset stubbornly clinging to her.
“…Yeah.” She replied after a moment, smiling.
“You know, I really wasn’t expecting this,” Book began, joining the metal object. “I’m not the best player.”
“Uh-huh.” Needle nodded along, unsure of how to answer. “I guess it’s like… an underdog story, us two.”
“Bubble said that too!” Book offered a grin, which pretty much instantly fell. “She added that I was uh, good at nothing… but hey, I’ll take what I can get!”
“Mm, I disagree,” Needle told Book thoughtfully.
“Huh, really? How come?“
“You’re the most compassionate, and… and you know how to navigate social situations. Better than you think you do. I mean, compared to me…” Needle trailed off. She hadn’t meant to make this about herself.
“You’re great at talking to others. Maybe a little bit too great, considering how everyone kept wanting to team with you all the time."
Needle laughed a little, but it was short-lived. “A couple months ago, Pencil told me I should let others help me more. That I shouldn't push away others. But I tried today, and she didn’t like my other friends. She kept picking fights and…” Needle struggled for words. “Point is, she doesn’t want me hanging out with any non-Freesmarters.”
“Pencil’s kind of a hypocrite when it comes to that stuff,” Book said, in a softer tone, like she didn’t want the aforementioned to hear it. “You just… learn to deal with it after a while, I guess.”
“And…” Needle traced her mind back to the earlier moment in the bakery, how she’d felt like she was dying for a brief moment when Pencil started closing in the ceiling like Tennis Ball did and—
She suppressed a shudder. “Actually, never mind.”
“…You okay?”
“Fine.”
They sat in comfortable silence, staring up at the sky.
“Kinda sad one of us will have to lose. I think you're a good competitor. Maybe we should truce,” Book jokingly suggested.
“…Oh. Right.” Needle had almost forgotten about that, somehow. “That wouldn’t make for a very interesting finale, though, would it?”
“Ah, true.”
"I still can't believe I survived over TB," Needle finally admitted after more of the silence.
"Why not? The S…the viewers liked you better, that's all."
"He's so popular. You remember that time he won the prize, like, five times in a row, right? It just doesn't feel… real. That I got more likes than him."
"You underestimate yourself, Needle."
"I guess."
"You don't sound very sure of that."
"Ugh, I don't know."
More silence.
"Well, for what it's worth, I think you're a deserving finalist. You worked hard to get here."
"…I appreciate that. You too."
"To be honest," Book murmured, "sometimes I wish I was a little more like you. You're brave. It's like you're not scared of anything… the way you faced to Evil Leafy today was almost unbelivable when I first heard it."
Not scared of anything? Needle thought wryly, refusing to comment on it outwardly. "I think it's cool how you don't—you don't lose your morals in the game. Like TB did. And how you don't call me… that nickname." She had never considered herself a good complimenter, but now she figured she should repay Book for her kind words.
Needle accidentally caught she other's eyes. She averted them, focusing instead on a particularly interesting blade of grass.
"…Thank you."