Soos looked into the bathroom mirror, trying to remember what Abulita told him to do when he thought he was going to throw up. Hold his breath and count backwards? Drink water? No wait, that was hiccups.

“Ya got ten minutes, kid.” a gruff voice came from the other room. “How long does it take to put on a suit?”

“I'll be out in a second, Mr. Pines!” Soos called, a small squeak in his voice.

The buttons on the front of Soos's jacket were slippery between his fingers, and he fumbled with them. Mr Pines wouldn't understand why he was taking so long...he wore a suit all the time. A suit made sense on him. But Soos? He'd worn a tuxedo t-shirt to Reggie's wedding. He hadn't been in an actual suit since his first communion. He looked in the mirror and thought of those little dogs ladies carried around in their purses. The kind that people dress up in little sweaters and bonnets that always look like they want tear them off with their teeth. That's what he felt like right now...a puppy dressed in people clothes.

“Tick tock.” Mr. Pines's voice came from the other room. “Time's a-wastin.”

Soos took a deep breath, and lowered the fez onto his head. And for a moment, the face in the mirror looked a little less like that of a scared puppy. He turned and exited the bathroom.

Mr. Pines was waiting in the den, pretending to read the newspaper. He looked up when Soos came in.

“Um...how do I look?” Soos smiled nervously, bracing himself for criticism. But his boss—uh, former boss, didn't seem to have anything to say at all. He just looked at Soos, silently for a while. Finally, he stood and gestured him over.

“Your tie's crooked. C'mere.”

Soos obediently crossed the room and lifted his chin, letting the older man adjust the ribbon tie around his neck. As he carefully tugged at each end of the bow, Soos saw a gentle smile on his face. The kind he didn't allow himself very often.

“There we go.” Mr. Pines lowered his hands, still holding onto the smile. He laid an arm over Soos's shoulders and pointed at a nearby mirror. “Heh, we make a pair, huh? Mr. Mystery senior and junior.”

Soos looked at their reflections side by side, he wasn't so sure that they made a pair. Mr. Pines looked like he always did, even without the fez. Soos just looked sweaty and uncomfortable. Like a kid dressed up in a Summerween costume. Like someone who never wore a suit.

“...I don't think I can do this....” Soos confessed.

“Sure you can.” Mr Pines replied.

“I can't. I'm not ready yet.” Soos wrung his hands together. “...Can't...couldn't you do this one more time? I could just...watch....”

“First day on the job and you're already trying to pass the buck to someone else, huh?” Mr. Pines grunted, folding his arms. “Not a chance. Get out there.”

Soos swallowed, looking out the window at the people crowding around on the Mystery Shack's lawn. He had to go. He didn't want to disappoint Mr. Pines...but he couldn't get his legs to move.

“What's the problem?” Mr Pines asked. “You've memorized the tour backwards and forwards.”

“I think I'm maybe gonna throw up. I've already sweated through three layers of clothing.” Soos held up his arms to show the dark stains around his pits. “I feel like I have to yell and faint and go to the bathroom at the same time. Is this normal? Am I going to die?”

“Hmm. Stage fright, huh?” Mr Pines gave him an appraising look. “Well, guess that's not surprising. Happens to everyone sometimes.”

“...Even you?” Soos said, eyes widening.

Mr. Pines laughed. “Not a chance. There's nothing in this world big or bad enough to scare your boss—er, former boss.” Stan scratched his head. “Guy who's still living in your house while he figures out how this 'boat' thing's gonna work? Whatever.”

Soos sighed.“What if they don't like me?”

“Those idiots?” Mr. Pines gestured towards the window. “Who cares what they like? Lemme tell you something, Soos. The dumbest people in the world file through these doors. Half of em would probably be happy if you jangled keys in front of their faces for an hour. You'll do fine.”

“That's easy for you to say....” Soos muttered.

Mr. Pines never seemed to mind if other people didn't like him. Except when he did. It was complicated, and sometimes really confusing. But Soos, well...he knew not everyone he met would respond to his honest if aggressive brand of friendship. He could live with that. But the idea of going out there, begging for attention and maybe being ignored or even hated made him want to hide under his bed with all his pillows and a great big bowl of sadness potato chips.

Stan sighed heavily. “All right. As a rule, I don't generally do this....”

“Do what?” Soos asked.

“Be honest with people. But it's a big day, and I guess you've earned five minutes.” Stan said, checking his watch. “Ask me again if I get stage fright.”

“Do...do you ever get stage fright?” Soos asked.

Stan put a hand on Soos's shoulder and looked seriously into his eyes.

“...Every day of my life.” he said.

Soos stared, speechless for a moment. “...Wh-what do you do? How do you deal with it?”

“Most people will tell you that the secret to getting over that fear is imagining everyone in their underwear, or picturing them as a bunch of monkeys or something. But all of that's bull. There's nothing you can do in your head that'll make all those faces looking at you any less scary. What you gotta do instead is re-imagine yourself.”

Stan's grip on Soos's shoulder tightened, giving him a little squeeze. “Imagine yourself as someone different. Someone who doesn't make the kind of mistakes you make...someone smart, and strong, and above all someone confident. Someone you can believe in when you can't believe in yourself.”

“...Someone like you?” Soos blurted out before he even realized the words were in his mouth.

For a moment, Stan looked like somebody had smacked him with a shovel—all wide-eyed, stunned and confused. Then a grin broke across his face and he laughed, loud and hard. He grabbed a fistful of Soos's cheek in his hand and squeezed it like his tias used to when he was little.

“Y'know, I'm really gonna miss you, big guy.”

Before those words could sink in deep enough for Soos to start tearing up, he felt himself being turned around and gently shoved in the direction of the door.

“All right, time's up.” Stan said, guiding his cane into Soos's hands. “Ready or not, you're going out there. Show 'em what you're made of.”

“Right.” Soos took a deep breath and walked out. “What I'm made of.”

There were a couple dozen people outside. No one he recognized. No one he'd ever seen before. A few families, some couples, and hostile-looking teenagers. Soos spread his arms wide, the way Mr. Mystery always did, and began.