Chapter Text
On an ordinary day in Riley’s life the newly turned teenager who was still recovering from her previous anxiety attack,the emotions at Headquarters were already assigned to their tasks, but it wasn’t the same anymore.
There had been tension between the two leaders of the emotions, Joy and Anxiety, for a while after the incident. There was peace and even a sort of treaty between them, but over time they realized that not everything was as perfect as it seemed.
The screen glowed above the console, showing Riley in the middle of a hockey game.
Joy bounced excitedly at the console. “Alright, happy team! Let’s cheer Riley on!” she told everyone.
“Come on, Riley, you can do it. It’s just one more point,” Anxiety murmured while handling the console, pressing buttons and pulling levers somewhat erratically.
Outside, Riley began moving faster. She caught the puck from a pass, dodged the opposing team’s forward, and skated straight toward the goal.
“I can do this, it’s just one more shot,” Riley muttered. She kept weaving past her opponents, positioned herself in front of the net, and fired.
The goalie managed to block Riley’s shot, making her let out a sigh of frustration.
“No way! We missed—we missed, Joy!” Anxiety practically leaped toward Joy, grabbing her mid-motion. “They’re going to be disappointed in us! They’ll think we’re not athletic enough to be on the team, and they’ll kick us out because they won’t want to deal with us! We’ll quit hockey, and we’ll be nobody in life!”
Joy couldn’t help but shiver slightly at two particular words in Anxiety’s rambling, but she quickly composed herself so she wouldn’t further upset the emotion, who was now tugging at her own hair.
“Anxiety, it’s okay, right guys?” she said, turning to the other emotions and receiving several nods. “Besides, there are still about two minutes left; our girl can handle this.” She gave Anxiety a reassuring smile.
“I wish I had those reflexes,” sighed the small emotion sitting next to the indigo one.
“Guys, not to say anything, but time is running out!” Fear shouted, rushing toward the others.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got this.” "Anxiety," he said, stepping in front of the console.
“Anxiety, calm down,” Joy tried to say, but Anxiety was already controlling the console, turning it a bright, intense orange.
Anxiety’s breathing and Riley’s, began to speed up, Riley skating quickly to retrieve the puck.
“How do you expect me to calm down if we haven’t been able to score more?!”
Anxiety’s hands began moving more frantically, while the other emotions reacted in different ways to what they were witnessing.
The sounds of buttons echoed throughout Headquarters, the console glowing with that intense orange characteristic of the emotion that didn’t know when to stop.
Riley caught the puck but collided with a girl from the rival team, nearly knocking her off balance.
“Hey, easy, kid!” the girl shouted at Riley, but Riley could only think about scoring—about being enough in the minutes she had left, about helping her team.
“We’re crashing into other people! We’re going to get a penalty—or the bench!” Fear began to panic, prompting the other emotions to act.
“This has gone too far! You can’t go around crashing into people, Anxiety!” Anger moved toward the console, trying to pull Anxiety away.
“B-But it’s necessary… Riley’s about to score!” she pleaded, clinging to one of the console’s levers as Joy stepped in.
“Anger, try to be a little kinder,” Joy said while calmly attempting to separate Anxiety. In the tug-of-war between the three emotions, they didn’t notice the console shifting between red and orange.
Outside, Riley pushed forward with new determination. She passed two forwards, and just as her breathing became erratic, her eyes locked on the goal. That hunger to win made her launch the puck hard, scoring a point—but in the process knocking down a player from the opposing team. The distracted emotions realized what had happened too late.
“Point for the Firehawks. Number 15 to the bench for two minutes,” the referee signaled at Riley.
“B-but I… Ugh!” Riley sighed as the surge of determination that had pushed her into the foul faded away.
Riley headed to the bench; as she sat down, she felt her breathing turn uneven, her legs weaken, and her vision distort slightly in faint spins. She placed a hand on her leg without noticing it was trembling. The sounds of the pucks echoed around her; she knew they had won, but the restlessness and guilt over what she had done wouldn’t leave—it wouldn’t go away.
—“I-I didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” the orange emotion began to tremble slightly as she stepped away from the console. “B-but it’s okay, r-right? R-right, Joy?”
“I—I managed to make Riley score at the last second… we’re the winners.” She looked at the cheerful emotion, searching for approval.
“Anxiety… I think it’s time you take a break in your chair,” Joy said with concern in her eyes as she guided her to her special seat, placing a cup in her hands.
Meanwhile, Sadness approached the console. “Poor Riley, she got benched,” she said, touching it—causing Riley to let a few tears slip.
“Minnesota!”
Riley quickly wiped her tears and lifted her head when she heard her team calling her. Dani walked up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Come on, Minnesota, why the long face? It was a great game, and that rough play was awesome—just try to hold back a little next time and let the others play too,” she teased.
“I… I’ll try to hold back more next time. I’m sorry about the collisions,” Riley said, lowering her head and looking at her stick.
“Hey… it’s okay. Just try not to hurt yourself or anyone else, alright?” Val said as she sat down beside Riley.
“Yeah…” she replied, embarrassed.
“Then it’s all good, Minnesota! Cheer up—we won!” Val stood up and gave Riley a bright smile.
“That wasn’t so bad,” Joy said.
“Say what you want, but they saw us with puffy eyes. That wasn’t cool at all,” Disgust commented.
“This wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for her,” Anger muttered, pointing at the seated emotion.
“Hey! She didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” Envy said, moving closer to Anxiety until she stood beside her. Anxiety flinched at the mention, her hands trembling as she tightened her grip on the cup.
“She made us win! I wish I’d been the one with the ability to make us win. You can’t blame her for everything—even Val forgave us.”
“Guys, it’s fine. She regrets it, right, Anxiety?” Joy asked, looking at the emotion, who was shrinking into her own misery.
“I—I don’t regret it… She won. She made her team win…” Anxiety’s hands tightened even more around the cup as she lowered her anxious gaze.
Joy’s shoulders tensed and her smile faltered. She looked at the emotion in disbelief.
“You what?”
Anxiety hesitated; she bit her lip—a new habit she had passed on to Riley—but she stayed firm. “I don’t regret it. If I regret anything, it’s not organizing more projections or rearranging Riley’s schedule so she’d have more time to practice hockey.” She looked at Joy with determination that wavered when Anger spoke.
“You’re not listening, Joy! She hasn’t learned anything since last time!”
“I-I have changed!” "Anxiety," she said desperately, trembling violently even as she clenched her fists.
“Anger, that’s enough! We don’t want fights,” Joy interrupted. The purple emotion stepped in to defend her.
“It’s not her fault. She’s trying to improve,” Fear said, backing away when he noticed Anger’s furious glare. “I-I’ll just be over here,” he added, positioning himself behind Disgust.
Anxiety grew frustrated, lowering her gaze to the floor—only to meet a pair of blue eyes looking at her with admiration and a strong hint of concern from the small emotion who had defended her.
“I’m going to my room to organize Riley’s schedule…”
“Anxiety, wait!” Joy shouted, trying to grab her hand, making Anxiety turn around abruptly.
“No, Joy! I’m trying to do my best job, but they always remind me of the mistakes I made. I thought you had forgiven me… but it was too good… too fast…” Anxiety hugged herself tightly; she raised an arm and ran her hand over her face to cover it. The more she sank into her misery, the more worried Joy became. “I need some time to clear my head.”
The emotions watched as Anxiety walked away to the room Joy had requested for her. It was a room with beige walls decorated with framed motivational messages meant to encourage the poor anxious emotion. A red armchair stood in the center; beside it, a beautiful plant, and on the opposite side, a shelf filled with manuals about the different parts of the mind. The emotion lay down on the small rug in front of her chair, crouched, and wrapped her arms around her legs as she buried her head.
“For Riley… what have I done?” Anxiety sobbed inside her small protective shell.
As night fell, Riley went to sleep; the other emotions did too—but two remained awake. Anxiety stepped out of her room and headed toward the kitchen.
She walked slowly so she wouldn’t wake the others, trying to avoid running into whichever emotion was on dream duty. Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on Anxiety’s side, and she ran straight into Joy.
“Anxiety…” Joy said, gently touching her shoulder.
“AHHH!” Anxiety screamed.
Joy quickly tried to cover her mouth with her hand, leaning a little too close to her, which made Anxiety blush.
“Not that it’s anything personal, but we don’t want to wake the others, right?” Joy gave her a nervous smile. As she looked closer, she noticed the poor attempt at coffee in Anxiety’s hands.
“Hey… I know today wasn’t the best day… but don’t let what Anger said get to you. He really exaggerated,” she said softly.
“But he was right, Joy… I-I haven’t changed…” Anxiety tightened her hands around the cup, stepped a little away from Joy, and lowered her gaze.
“I’m still the same as before. I still feel like I have to push Riley a little more, that we’re not enough… that I’m not enough.” The two emotions moved toward the chairs near the table. The smaller one sat down with her cup and unconsciously brought a hand to her mouth in a miserable attempt to bite her nails.
“The worst part is that I don’t regret it. Even after everything, I still want more, Joy.” Joy tried to avoid pointing out the anxious little movement of her hand.
Only the sound of Anxiety’s rapid breathing filled the room, becoming more uneven as she kept talking. The cup vibrated slightly, clinking against the table; small gasps slipped out between pauses. Joy knew Anxiety felt overwhelmed—but she didn’t know what to do.
“Anxiety… I…” Joy shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She didn’t know how to comfort someone; Sadness was much better at that than she was. “I think you went a little too far today with all of that,” she commented, “but you don’t deserve everything Anger said,” she added quickly.
Anxiety looked at her for a long moment. Her hands were trembling, but when her eyes met Joy’s, they looked tired. She bit her lip, closed her eyes, and spoke.
“I can’t believe I thought you would understand me. Obviously, it was my mistake to think the leader of the emotions I once locked away—that your Joy—could understand. After all, we’re opposites.”
Anxiety stood up and didn’t look back, leaving behind a Joy consumed by regret and guilt for not knowing how to handle the situation.
Joy looked at the console. She couldn’t help but shiver at the sight of that bright orange glow from the corner of her eye—it made her think deep thoughts and sent small chills down her spine.
She didn’t want to lose what little control she had left. She didn’t want to stop being useful to Riley, because the older Riley got, the less she seemed to need her. Somewhere in her subconscious, she saw herself reflected in Anxiety—they both wanted to be useful. She didn’t like noticing that when Anxiety stepped back, she could almost see herself stepping back too.
Joy looked at the half-full cup on the table, but she couldn’t shake the discomfort of the moment—the uncomfortable feeling inside her that maybe that cup was actually half empty.