Oncie stepped forward from a shadowed niche as the ray of light that lifted the Lorax finally faded and allowed the smoggy sky to close in on itself.

"So..." Oncie spoke, even though Greed hadn't turned from his gaze. "I guess we're done."

The man slowly lowered his head. "...I need to see mom and dad," he spoke in an unusually soft voice, hands anxiously fiddling with the brim of his hat.

The false laughter of desperate pleading.

Things being packed away and a car door slamming.

"Oncie, you have disappointed me for the last time."

Dust billowing up and settling as they drove away, followed by the silence when the cart finally disappeared over the hill.

A long silence.

Oncie shakily moved towards his friend again, as stunned and hurt as the other.

"They... They only cared when we were making them money...?" He felt his eyes as tears began to form, desperately wanting to deny it. Greedler strode away back to the factory.

"W-where are you going?" Oncie turned, sniffing once.

"Back to work."

"...What? But we're done! Can't you see that? There's no more truffulas for miles!"

Greed stormed past, ignoring his statement as he made towards a group of employees who were leaving the plant. "Where are you all going?" he snarled.

"Sir? There's no more truffula fluff left. We were getting our gas masks to go hom-"

"Back inside!" he spat, making the men jump. "I have enough money to keep this company moving yet! So get BACK INSIDE!"

The frightened men scurried back from whence they came. "Greed, I don't-"

"Oncie, get back upstairs where it's safe."

"Safe..? But-"

"NOW!"

Oncie cringed, frightened from the outburst, but did as he was told; rushing back into the factory and towards Greed's living quarters. The man had his moods, but this felt off.

He paused for a moment to let workers rush past with a section of metal wall and machinery, surprised that they already had tasks to do, but baffled as to what it could be. 'What the hell is he doing...?' he stopped, about to follow them when he heard the clacking echoes of expensive shoes walking down the hall. The musician turned on his heels and hurried along the rest of the way, worried what would happen if he had been caught lingering around instead of following an order.

He nervously paced the room for hours, glancing out the windows every so often to glimpse down at the huge trucks that drove underneath into the main factory, their containers filled to the brim with massive sheets of metal and machine parts. 'Give him time,' Oncie told himself over and over, biting his lip with concern. 'He won't leave you in the dark forever. Everything will be okay, he-'

"You trust me, don't you?" came the ghost in his head.

"O-of course I do..." Oncie spoke to no one at all, pressing a hand against the glass as he lowered his eyes. "...I trust you because I love you..."

He let out a sigh, feeling a little more at ease though the sounds of heavy construction could now be heard from every angle of the office. Taking up his old guitar he sat on their bed to wait, smiling softly and strung a few chords before the voice of his mother suddenly rang through his head and made him pluck the wrong string.

"You've disappointed me..." it taunted again and again through the empty bedroom.

Squeezing the neck of the instrument, the musician finally flopped back onto the sheets and tossed the guitar aside; too upset for once in his life to sing. He pushed his hands against his face and fought to hold back tears as he let out a sob.

They both had tried so hard to make them proud...

He coughed, unable to restrain himself any longer, and wept aloud. If Greed was here, he thought, he wouldn't let anyone do this. No one but him could make him cry, and it was never for something like this. Greed would come in and fix everything. He'd make it okay.

Cuts would be bandaged, bruises would be mumbled about in apology, and things broken would be replaced.

Oncie blinked slowly as his eyelids began to get heavier; his hand slipping off the bed and down to the tape around Greed's patch job on his old guitar neck.

...Or at least he would try his best.