We open just a few minutes after yesterday's episode. Yes, I know this completely ruins the timeline but whatever just roll with it.

Facebook is running through the halls of the courthouse,  trying to find somewhere she can hide or at least be alone. Eventually she finds a storage room and runs into it, slamming the door behind her. She sits in the dark for a few minutes before choking out a quiet cry.

A few minutes pass. Facebook is now sitting in fetal position with her head between her knees, sobbing, and whispering things like "Pathetic" and "Always did belong to him, didn't you?"

A few minutes later the door opens. Facebook sits up quickly and tries to make herself look presentable as the light turns on. A person with long pink hair with shaved sides and a leather jacket stands in the door, awkwardly.

Arin: Oh, sorry. Is this a bad time?

Facebook: No, it's okay.... ma'am? Sir?

Arin: Actually I don't go by either. Call me Arin.

Facebook: Okay Arin. [a pause] Nice name.

Arin: Thanks. I got it for my birthday.

The conversation ends, and it's just silence. Arin checks their phone, and spends a while texting someone. Facebook starts crying again, this time trying to stay quiet so that Arin won't notice. This doesn't work. After about 3 minutes, Facebook starts hyperventilating.

Arin: Are you okay?

Facebook doesn't answer.

Arin: For god's sakes girl, um...

Arin takes off their backpack, rummages through it, and pulls out a paper bag.

Arin: [tosses bag at Facebook] Breathe into this. It helps.

Facebook takes the bag and breathes into it for a while. Arin just kind of looks around, trying not to make it seem like they're staring at Facebook.

Arin: Are you better now?

Facebook nods.

Arin: Good. [a pause] If you don't mind me asking, what's wrong?

Facebook: It's nothing.

Arin: Really? Because to me it looks like you were just in the middle of a freaking panic attack, or at least some sort of breakdown.

Facebook: Yeah, well, looks can be deceiving.

A pause.

Arin: I'm not saying you were having a breakdown, and you don't have to tell me anything, but just know that venting can be a very effective coping mechanism.

Facebook and Arin sit in silence for a while, Arin staring at Facebook, Facebook staring at the ground. Eventually Arin sighs. They stand up to leave just as Facebook starts talking.

Facebook: I wasn't always a criminal, you know.

Arin sits back down next to Facebook.

Facebook: I was a good kid. If you told my fourteen-year-old self this would happen, I would've laughed in your face. I would have said go away, you have me confused with someone else. Hell, if you told my twenty-one-year-old self that I'd be here right now, no. I'm not that type of person.

Facebook sighs and turns away from Arin.

Facebook: Except... I am now. People always told me as a kid that I could be whatever I wanted when I grow up, but I never chose this. If there was some button I could push to just restart the entire universe, or even just my life, I would.

Arin: I know how you feel—

Facebook: No, you don't. I could've been something great. I could... [starts to tear up again] I could've been a real lawyer, instead of a pathological liar with trust issues. But here I am, a criminal, praying I don't get fired from a job I never wanted and all because... I picked up that... that freaking knife... and...

Facebook goes back to sobbing. Arin is now soothingly rubbing Facebook's back, trying to calm her down.

Facebook: Do you think I don't know what they all say about me? Do you think I like pretending to hate them, or that I don't care?

Facebook sighs, then looks at Arin tears still streaming down her face.

Facebook: Do you think I wanted to be the villain of my own story? I thought... I thought I would be free if we just talked but no. He trapped me... in a lie... made sure, even in his passing, that I was, and always would be... a bitch.

Facebook collapses back into sobbing again. She and Arin sit together, Arin trying to be as supportive as a complete stranger can be. Outside the door, Wattpad has been listening to this entire conversation. Wattpad turns and runs down the hallway.

Wattpad: I've got to fix this.

*

Wattpad runs into the rest of the Pinvengers, who are all having dinner in the cafeteria.

Wattpad: I need to tell you guys something. I don't think you should ship Facespace anymore.

Fanfic: Okay.

Tumblr: Is this about her little temper-tantrum she had about the trial ending tomorrow? She can't just expect the universe to let her get her way in everything.

Wattpad: But it hasn't! I overheard her talking a few minutes ago, and she seems pretty unforgiving towards him, like if he won this trial she'd somehow be tied to him for life. It's like he's forcing her to do something she doesn't want to do.

Tumblr: That's all for show. He can't force her to do anything, he literally has no mass.

Wattpad: That's not the point! I now know for a fact that their relationship was never healthy. That's why she wanted to help me get away from Wikipedia, she didn't want me to end up like her.

Tumblr: Or she just wanted the ship to sink.

Wattpad: [sigh] Tumblr, we need to get those journals. I've heard enough of other people looking back on the events, it's time to get Facebook's story. Who's with me?

Fanfic: I am!

DevA: Yeah! Let's get that book!

Pinterest: What about you, Tumblr?

Tumblr: I'm not. I like this ship. I'm not letting this one go.

Wattpad: But Facebook—

Tumblr: This isn't about Facebook! I don't care how they really feel about each other! I just want to ship them because they look good together and they've dated in the past so it could theoretically be canon, is that such a crime?

Wattpad: It is when it puts people's lives in danger.

Tumblr: Drama queen.

Fanfic: Tumblr, I know you hate Facey, and I know we're probably not going to be able to convince you not to, but for all the things Facebook's done for you, don't you think you sort of owe her this?

Tumblr: Please, what has that idiot ever done for me?

Instagram: Well, consider this: Who was the one person who remembered your birthday without you having to tell them?

Tumblr thinks for a moment.

Tumblr: Let's get that diary.