The bright blue light was in fact, brighter than all the lights that had ever been put up front. 1872, Gloss, the strange mannequin and the other mannequin all looked at it, their nonexistent brains trying to come up with possible reasons.

Axel got off the stool he was initially standing on.

"Seriously Mark? I can't believe you couldn't come up with something that didn't involve poor ol' me changing every light in the store!" he half-yelled at Mark.

"Axel, back off!" Pat smiled as she handed the freshly bought tube lights to Mark. "Mark, you've done well. The boss now likes you."

"Haha, I wish. He's way too handsome. Maybe you..." Mark trailed off.

The mannequins and Gloss were completely engrossed in the conversation now. A theme change could probably be exactly what the store needed.

That was the company's speciality. A change- always.

Pat walked away before Mark could continue and he sighed, turning back to Axel.

Axel shook his head. "Even for you- she's too good, man. And I'm very sure the boss, like, likes me."

"Gee... thanks," Mark scoffed, stuffing the tube lights into Axel's arms before following after Pat.

Axel snorted. "Angry about the truth..."

He went on to change the light above 1872.

"Black Beauty... by this time tomorrow, there'll be a white beauty. Hey Mark! What's this thing's number?"

Mark quickened his pace.

"I'll miss you..." Axel stroked 1872's head.

Gloss felt shattered. He realised exactly what this meant.

Actually, everyone except 1872 did.

"Gloss, is Axel leaving or what?" he chuckled. 1872 never was much of a listener.

He had something more like a subjective ability to hear.

Gloss started panicking, fear washing over him like a disease.

"Gloss?" his friend called out.

After about fifteen minutes, Pat came out of nowhere and picked up 1872.

"You were our best mannequin though..."

She carried him to the very back. Mark caught up with her and a smile crept up her face.

"Mark, I hate you..." 

"You just said otherwise. And don't blame me. The boss chose the idea. It was... up for interpretation...?" Mark grinned. Nothing could keep the happiness out of either of their tones.

"All white... that's so racist Mark. And I'm not white."

"I said 'bright'! It's not my fault that dude can't hear!"

"You mean the boss? Whatever. But we're replacing my favourite!"

"1872? Yeah... I'm sorry." Mark mumbled.

Pat laughed. "I'm kidding! We're all ready for a change."

Mark waved goodbye after someone called him. 

Pat carried 1872 farther than the meeting room this time.

1872 couldn't believe what was going on. He was being replaced.

Pat opened the back door and placed him on the cold ground. The air of the night touched 1872 for the first time in a long time.

She went back inside, leaving him alone there.

1872's world was crumbling. His earlier fears, confirmed.

He wasn't best. He was a mannequin. He was replaceable.

"You get the clothes in, man. I couldn't do it," he could faintly hear Pat from inside.

The next morning, the store opened again. A brand new day, a brand new idea. 

'Pure' made the headlines in basically all magazines. Three white, unscarred mannequins stood on display. The glass had finally been wiped clear of the mysterious amount of water present on it.

1872 couldn't stay put in one place. The road wasn't very smooth.

And there was minimal space for him.

1872 hated trucks.