Their journey led them to Hollow Knight Studios, a sprawling haven of creativity where dreams were crafted into reality on the grand stage of future shows and films.
The car found its haven in the studio's parking lot, guided by Robbie's adept maneuvers. And like a curtain lifting in a grand performance, the boys reclaimed their human forms, their breaths coming in ragged bursts as they descended from the sky, their feet landing firmly on the ground by the car's side. The boys struggled to breathe from the long run as pools of sweat drenched their foreheads and clothing. The twins lay on a nearby patch of grass to cool down, panting like an overheated dog. Sakura and her father emerged from the vehicle. Not a bead of sweat tarnished their exteriors.
Robbie chuckled and said, "What's the matter, guys? I thought you said you were used to your wolf forms."
Athen gasped for breath and said, "You are such an ass."
"We haven't run like this in forever," Jack said.
"Okay, follow me, everyone," Robbie said.
As they strolled across the studio grounds, a new world unfolded. A symphony of laborers unfolded among the labyrinthine pathways, each contributing to the productions.
Robbie led the way, entering the tent first and opening his arms for an embracing hug with Kevin. "Hope you don't mind me adding a few more celebrities to the breakfast."
"Any friend of hers is a friend of ours," Kevin replied.
"My daughter is in a newly established rock band, Crowned Wolves. I thought it wouldn't hurt for them to get some support from experienced celebrities."
"By all means."
Robbie guided Sakura to an exclusive celebrity breakfast with her fellow band members. Taking their places at a large round outdoor table garnished with vibrant flowers, they found themselves under the expansive white tent. Robbie was seated to Sakura's left, exuding an air of pride, while her five bandmates occupied the space on her right. Directly beside her sat Athen, leaning leisurely in his chair, his arms casually crossed, and his left leg draped over his right, though a faint air of disinterest lingered. Michael, positioned nearby, displayed his nervousness through the rhythmic shaking of his left leg.
The twins, Alex and Alec, engaged in a playful exchange of whispers and laughter, much akin to children lost in their world of amusement. Meanwhile, Jack maintained a vigilant posture, ready to intervene should the twins' antics veer towards the indelicate. A lovely server arranged empty plates for the forthcoming buffet feast, ensuring everyone would be well-equipped to collect their desired meals.
Sitting across from them were their good old friends Wesley, Dean, and Hamish, wearing formal suits. Other famous actors sit all around them. Heroes and talents from various films assembled in one space, their presence captivating. A portable food buffet table, elegantly displayed in front of a white semi-truck, awaited them.
Wesley smiled at Sakura and remarked, "Fancy meeting you here."
Athen scowled, aiming to eliminate the male celebrity from his girlfriend's field of vision. "What, is that some kind of pickup line?"
The muted crowd was not expecting such crude behavior. Athen's companions sat in a calm stillness; their gazes fixated downward, and their eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and unease. Fingers danced restlessly upon their laps, an unconscious attempt to navigate the awkward terrain of the conversation unfolding before them. Athen's tendency toward jealousy had long been familiar to them.
"And who might you be?" Wesley asked.
"My name is Athen, Sakura's boyfriend. These are our band members, Michael, Jack, and the twins, Alex and Alec."
"Oh, dear. That's not awkward," Dean said.
"I felt compelled to assure her she had made a favorable first impression upon our initial encounter."
Michael dramatically smiled at Wesley, nudging Athen with his elbow to shut him up. "At ease, soldier. He's giving her a harmless compliment."
"Harmless is not a word I would use," Athen said.
Again, Michael nudged Athen, annoyed by his uncooperative reactions, and said, "Chill."
"Perhaps it is me who did not give a favorable first impression to you. We ought to convene later, collectively indulging in some quality time. I believe I can play hooky occasionally. I can also provide you with a records deal for your band."
Sakura's lips curled into a gentle smile, a soft chuckle escaping her. Her nod communicated not only agreement but also a warmth that emanated from her heart, embracing spending time with Wesley. As her expression brightened, Wesley's grin widened, knowing that he had brought fleeting happiness to Sakura, filling his eyes with joy.
Robbie's reaction was less inspiring, a subtle roll of his eyes betraying his disappointment. "No one is playing hooky here. Let's go; it looks like the caterers have finished setting up," Robbie said.
Eager to indulge in a meal, Sakura was the first to step in line, positioned alongside a row of esteemed actors. A stand holding rectangular metal tins kept warm by a flickering oil flame caught her attention. The sight of a massive container brimming with white rice, a quantity she had never witnessed, astounded Sakura. Moving along the food stations, she used the serving spoon and forks to scoop up an assortment of vegetables and various proteins.
Wesley followed Robbie in the line, holding his empty plate, and tapped his shoulder to get his attention. "Pardon me for asking, but does she speak at all?"
Robbie's expression turned sympathetic as he replied, "Sakura isn't shy. She carries communication-related trauma, making it challenging for her to interact with unfamiliar people."
Hamish sighed and expressed his empathy. "That's truly unfortunate."
Upon picking up a plate from the stack, Dean joined the conversation and added, "She is more than welcome to talk to us freely."
Robbie nodded. He replied, "She would appreciate the offer, but it will take time."
Hamish understood. "I can only imagine the difficulties she faces daily. I am truly sorry she has to endure that. I hope she finds a path to healing."
"I hope so, too," Robbie responded, appreciating the empathy shared by his acquaintance.
With an optimistic spirit, Sakura cradled her plate in line to select her favorite foods: scrambled eggs with golden potatoes and a tangy burst of tomatoes. Her selections were as diverse as they were plentiful.
Meanwhile, the boys lagged, their selections tending towards the hearty familiarity of steak tips and eggs.
As they moved to their seats at the expansive table, the boys in tow, Sakura's radiance was infectious, her charm melting away any lingering awkwardness. Within the gentle hum of chatter, the occasional chuckle, and the whispered comments of admiration, the group settled into their seats, bound by the simple joy of each other's company.
Dean gently placed his napkin on his lap and held his utensils elegantly, dicing his nourishment from large chunks to tiny bite-size pieces, and said, "So, have you written any music yet?"
Sakura shrugged her shoulder and smiled. Athen nodded to assure her he would respond to her from now on, but Sakura was more than happy to answer any 'yes' or 'no' questions.
In response to Dean's question, Athen replied, "Nothing official yet. Only notebook drafts so far. It's hard to choose. One song can determine our future."
Hamish said, "Like writing a first sentence in a novel."
"That was a sweet comparison," Michael commented.
"Pipsqueak can handle anything. I have faith that she will thrive in whatever she does in the end," Robbie said.
Sitting beside her mortifying father, Sakura succumbed to a subtle flush, her cheeks warming as the discussion wove around her. She had ignored them for the rest of the meal to keep herself calm. Avoiding stress was essential to her despite her age.
In the awkward silence, Jack took exaggerated gulps of orange juice from the beverage stand, clearly trying to distract himself. The twins, meanwhile, tore into their breakfast steaks and sausages with their bare hands, utterly oblivious to the tension in the air. Michael sat back in his chair, eating his food casually, though he frowned and raised his lip as he watched the twins' barbaric behavior.
Athen, seated nearby, avoided eye contact with everyone, focusing intently on his plate. He ate his breakfast, clinging to his composure as he resisted the urge to snap at the twins in front of the group.
Wesley dove into the conversation, breaking the tension with his polished British accent. "So, how did you all meet the lovely lady?" he asked, gesturing toward Sakura.
The question caught Jack mid-sip, and he sputtered dramatically, spitting orange juice into his hand as he coughed. "I'm okay!" he managed, waving off any concern.
Athen answered calmly, "We met in high school."
Dean took a sip of his water and asked with a raised brow, "Did you all graduate in the same class?"
Michael, still side-eyeing the twins, shook his head. "We all graduated together—except for those two," he said, nodding toward the twins. "They've got a few years to go."
Alex stopped mid-bite to glare at Michael, clearly insulted. On the other hand, Alec continued devouring his food as if he hadn't eaten in days, unfazed by the entire exchange.
"I see," Dean replied with a measured tone, his eyes flicking between the twins as they pointedly avoided his gaze.
Jack, smirking mischievously, leaned forward. "Alright, let's not beat around the bush here. Will the new show Robbie's in be connected to the movies?"
Michael jumped in eagerly. "Forget that—I want to know if Dean's villain character is making a comeback after his epic defeat."
The actors exchanged awkward glances, clearly unable to answer the questions. The rest of the table leaned in, desperate for answers, as the conversation became a barrage of speculative queries.
The breakfast event ended an hour later, much to the actors' relief. Everyone returned to their respective tasks, and Sakura was finally free to leave.
Over the next few days, the pack embraced a rare week of relaxation, setting aside the weight of their responsibilities on the island. None of them brought up home, and the silence was a welcome ceasefire.
Sakura stuck to her usual morning routine, starting her day with her medication and a wholesome breakfast. The pack joined her at the dining room table, where they spent hours brainstorming and writing music together.
Robbie came downstairs and paused at the sight of his spotless, expensive dining table covered in scattered sheets of paper. He sighed heavily and took a seat beside them, shaking his head. "Why are you making such a mess in here? What is all this?"
"We're workin' on our first album," Sakura explained.
"And we've agreed on ten songs," Athen added. "Though most of them are depressing."
Robbie groaned, rubbing his temples. "The music was supposed to be a positive outlet for my daughter while she adjusts to her new life—not a soundtrack for suicidal people."
Athen was about to argue when Sakura's phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and read a message from Wesley, grinning as she announced, "Wesley wants to hang out with us."
Robbie groaned louder, throwing his hands up. "Wesley? I told him to focus on the show! His career is on the line, and instead, he wants to hang out with my daughter? Typical."
Athen narrowed his eyes and muttered, "I couldn't agree more."
Robbie spun around and shot him a glare. "You're only saying that because he flirts with her."
Still focused on her phone message, Sakura said, "Get dressed, all of ya. He's comin' to pick us up."
"Here? At my house?" Robbie grumbled, his tone heavy with disapproval.
"Yes, da," Sakura replied with an exasperated eye roll. Rising from her chair, she trailed after the boys upstairs to get ready for their outing.
Forty-five minutes later, the group assembled, dressed and eager, ready to embark on their adventure together—this time blending seamlessly into the world as humans.
Just outside the front door, the unmistakable thrum of a car pulling up filled the air. Its speakers blast loud pop music that reverberates through the surroundings. Robbie was the first to open the door, stepping out to greet the unexpected sight. His eyes widened, and his jaw nearly dropped as he approached the car.
"When did you get a car like this?" he asked, incredulity lacing his voice. "You can't afford something like this at your age!"
Sakura stepped out of the house, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as her father's skeptical muttering echoed around her. The boys followed close behind, watching the scene unfold. Outside, Wesley sat within his sleek convertible, flipping a switch that caused the fabric top to fold back with mechanical precision.
Wearing stylish black sunglasses and a self-assured grin, Wesley said, "No need to be so uncivilized, Robbie. My father proudly helped me acquire this beauty."
Robbie crossed his arms, unimpressed. "Of course he did. Isn't he some kind of photographer?"
Wesley's grin widened. "An artist, actually. He works exclusively for the wealthiest clients in Los Angeles."
Robbie let out a heavy sigh, muttering under his breath, "Damn trust fund kids." Without another word, he turned and marched back into the house, brushing past Sakura. Too irritated to say goodbye, he disappeared inside, leaving an awkward silence in his wake.