"When will I take part of the show?"

Dyle was created only for schedules and keeping things on track. He was just supposed to be a background worker, not a toon meant for playing and fun.

Dyle would ask Delilah if he was ever going to take part of the show, but she would just change the topic or just disregard the question.

Everytime a toon passed by his shop looking joyous and happy, Dyle would feel envious. Why couldn't he be like the others? Why couldn't some employee take care of the schedules? Why couldn't he be in the show? Why?

It was unfair. Dyle had to take care of the trains, schedules and everything else, and all the money he earned from selling items went straight back to Dandy. And what did he get in return? Nothing. No praise, no gratitude, nothing.

One day, it was all just too much. Delilah demanded the supply train to be at Gardenview at around six in the morning. He had to prepare his shop, check his inventory, keep his stoic persona, the list goes on. It was too early, too much. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes already. It was childish and immature of him to be crying, but he couldn't help it.

He stormed to the back room of his shop, teardrops quietly hitting the floor. He curled up into a ball on some random chair, stifling his sobs with his hand.