Frank’s Big Day

     “Are you sssssure you want me to come, Frank?” asked Sidney, the owner of the Fairgrounds Kiosk. He sat at their kitchen table, thumbing through a catalogue from Prigpants & Swolthy, Tailors, while Frank tried on some new outfits. “I don’t know anything about art.”

     He squeaked his assent, browsing through the mini clothing rack full of new outfits that Sidney had bought for him from the Wanderers. Frank didn’t know why they had outfits for Petpets, but they were really well made, and it pleased him to run his paws through the sumptuous fabric. He was certain most of them were clothes made for Usuki dolls, but that didn’t bother him.

     What outfit should he wear? The Mystery Island shirt was way too casual, and a tracksuit may as well say that he’d given up, so he skipped those options. A tuxedo would just say he was trying too hard—and he had two of those! The suit of armour might come in handy at the Stone Dome, but it wouldn’t do for Neovian high society; neither would the Meridellian musketeer tunic—complete with hat!—but it was both his and Sidney’s favourite outfit from the bunch so he made sure to keep that protected in its garment bag.

     “How about the jeansssss and button up top?” Sidney suggested, putting down his catalogue to pay closer attention to the fashion show happening in their living room.

     Frank shook his head. Business casual was for startups, not for serious artistes like himself. He looked up at Sidney with his big beady eyes and motioned for him to set their brass looking glass on the floor, grabbing a beret from the adjacent hat rack and tilting it on his head just so.

     “Marvelousss!” Sidney said with great exaggeration, but Frank knew he loved it.

     Whenever he saw galas and award shows on NeoVision, the artists always wore such elaborate outfits; both he and Sidney would titter at some of their choices. Now he was expected to play the same role, hopefully without being televised, but he found himself in their shoes without any fashion experience or claim to fame. The idea that people would judge him and his art together was daunting and he hated the idea that they would think less of his work just because of his outfit.

     Frank put on a long red robe, reminiscent of something King Skarl once wore to show up his brother at a summit, but the moment he saw himself in the mirror he doffed it and put it back on the clothes hanger. Looking at himself in the mirror, beret still jauntily set, he tried to imagine how he wanted himself to be perceived by others. His large eyes looked back at him, the red paint job still a surprise every time he noticed it, and he tried to see what everyone else would see if he were on NeoVision.

     His art would be criticised and admired by critics and amateurs alike. The presenter, Pat Turn, would tell the audience the various techniques used in the pieces, liken him to other visionaries, and have the camera pan to him, then zoom in and zoom in and...oh. They would see his large eyes, see his small stature, and see him for the amateur that he was.

     Frank took the beret from his head, blushing. Who was he kidding? It was an art show, not an artist’s show! His art had to speak for itself—the audience wasn’t there for him. Frank hurled the chapeau into the Meepit hole Sidney made for him that he turned into a walk-in closet.

     “Oh, c’mon, little buddy,” the Nimmo said, getting down on his knees to talk to him more closely. “You’re overthinking thissss. I think you look fantassstic.”

     Frank patted Sidney’s cheek in thanks with his small paw, then sighed, worried that the art show would be a huge bust. What would the other contestants think of him? Petpets don’t do art. Petpets don’t go to conventions. Petpets don’t show up their partners. He was also a Meepit, and Meepits only cause trouble.

     Sidney lifted his top hat and took out a small black shopping bag that had been sitting on his head, placing it in front of Frank before replacing his hat.

     “I took lessonssss and made thissss for you,” he said with an embarrassed grin. “You don’t have to wear it, but I wanted you to have it.”

     Frank parted the white tissue paper inside and pulled out a black and gold Gnorbu wool scarf. The design reminded him of a friendship bracelet, and he wondered if the Wanderers had taught him how to make it. There were some mistakes in the pattern, but it added a surprise element to it, which was very Haunted Woods. He immediately wrapped it around his neck and struck a pose in front of the mirror.

     “Like a gilded lily,” Sidney said, meaning that it was unnecessary ornamentation on something that was beautiful in its own right. His smile turned into a grin when Frank jumped onto him for a hug. “I’m glad you like it.”

     Sidney put him back down, leaving Frank to deal with any last-minute details. His invitations were already safe in Sidney’s satchel at the door, his outfit was chosen and proudly displayed, and his art had already been sent ahead; since Neovia was right around the corner, there would be no trouble with his paintings arriving in one piece at the gallery. There was nothing more to worry about.

     “I can’t go like thissss,” he heard Sidney say from his closet at the other side of the room. Frank took this opportunity to scurry up the kitchen table to take a peek at the catalogue, baulking at the prices. Clothing was cheaper for the average Petpet because they were smaller and needed less fabric; the same couldn’t be said for Neopets, however. Frank thought about his friend’s outfit a bit more closely than he normally would, ignoring the aesthetic and going straight for the quality.

     Sidney’s usual clothing was the height of fashion years ago, but the quality had started to fail, and Neovians had been rocking shoulder pads and wide leg trousers for a while now. The shirt was in good condition, but the colour was fading, and that hole in his trousers wasn’t there on purpose; Sidney said it was built-in air conditioning, but that wasn’t funny in the cold winters when the wind would blow so hard it would knock Frank clear off his haunches. The Nimmo’s hat had patches in so many places Frank wasn’t even sure what the original shade of purple was. He sure wasn’t about to tell him about that expired scratch ticket stuffed away under the hat band, either, in case it was a winner. Those spats had to go, though—or at the very least, Frank should get him a pair of shoes to wear with them.

     Frank climbed down from the table and made a mental tally in his head of all the Neopoints he had leftover from winning all those spotlights. The art supply closet was stocked, as was his walk-in closet, and the utilities were paid in advance for the next year, so anything left over was just extra. Sidney had always taken care of him, and when he discovered Frank’s knack for art he was constantly looking out for deals on supplies, so it was only fair that he returned the favour. If Sidney could spare him a few Neopoints for a snack from Spooky Food every now and then, he could return the favour. He vowed to commission something nice for him at Prigpants & Swolthy, Tailors while they were there. Sidney was going to be his plus one at all the events from now on, after all.

     “Hang on, I do have ssssomething,” Sidney said, emerging from the closet a few minutes later in an outfit he had worn to the Spooky Food Eating Contest a few years back. It was similar to his usual outfit, albeit a bit theatrical, only the purples were darker and the pants weren’t ripped. He still had no shoes on, but most Neopets only wore them for aesthetic reasons anyway.

     “How do I look?” Sidney asked him, straightening out his vest and looking at him apprehensively. “I don’t want to embarrass you.”

     Frank applauded, and Sidney mock bowed at the praise. He turned around to pack his supplies in his Explorer Usuki backpack, bothered by what his friend just said. It was Frank who didn’t want to embarrass Sidney—not after everything he had done for him. No, his outfit was not ready yet.

     He went into his walk-in closet and fished out the matching purple pinstripe vest he had worn to the same Spooky Food Eating Contest. Frank knew he made the right decision when he came out with it on, and Sidney beamed at him.

     “Are we ready?” he asked when Frank put on his backpack and turned off his closet light. He nodded and followed after his friend, the anxiety about the event now gone. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought about him or his art; all that mattered was that Sidney was by his side as he shared it with the world.

     Sidney locked up behind them, and they started on their journey through the Haunted Woods, waving at everyone who was wishing Frank well at the competition. More people supported his endeavour than he expected. The Nimmo turned to him at that point and gushed.

     “I’m sssso proud of you, Frank.”

     Frank looked at Sidney fondly and touched his friendship scarf, the same feeling swelling inside of him, too.

     The End.