It was the sound of tape skidding against the perforated metal tip of the dispenser that finally made Dipper lift his gaze from his journal. His dark eyes flickered over to his sister who sat opposite of the room, the summer's scrapbook against her knees. A worn, much-handled photo sat in Mabel's hesitant fingers, the strip of tape in the other hand.

He knew what page she was on, who was smiling and waving at her from the picture in her grip.

"… Finally time to add him to the gallery?" he quipped, setting the black light and journal to the side. His sister looked up at him and forced a smile. The tape crackled in her grip as her fingers tensed around it, forcing the sticky ends together and rendering it useless.

"Yeah—it's been a month now," she chirped back. Her face fell as she look back at the picture and set the tape down. She glanced at the destroyed plastic film and then dropped it aside.

Dipper bit his lip before he slid off the bed, hands slipping into his pockets naturally. He paused and then stepped over to his sister's side and leaned beside her. "… you don't /have/ to put him in there, Mabel," he assured her, smiling as he glanced up at her. "You can keep him out—he doesn't have to be a fail. You did have that fun week—"

"But does it count a success if he forgets me the minute he leaves?" she interrupted, finally tearing her gaze away from the photo. Her twin bit his lip as he stared at his sister. Mabel's shoulders drooped and she slipped the print smudged image back into the spine of the scrapbook and closed it. "… I wanted him to be different."

He had been different, her heart argued: he had paid for her meal, held her hand, kissed her knuckles, and treated her like a treasure. He had treated her like she was his everything.

Mabel sighed as she set the book on her quilt and dropped off of her bed, head lowered to stare at her feet. "I'm taking Waddles for a walk," she huffed before she kicked at a dustbunny and made her way out of the attic. Dipper watched her thump down the stairs, one at a time, determined to get her negative emotions out with each stomp.

When the screen door slammed shut, Dipper reached over for the book and flipped it open. With a frown that made his brow furrow in annoyance, he picked up the photo of the boy his sister had been enamored with.

"… c'mon, Fletcher… I thought you were better than this…"