Nico’s feeling bad today. He’s in a slump. I just need a pep talk, he tells himself. Then I’ll be right again.

He opens Irro. Scrolls through the time stamps. September 8 has been his go-to, but lately it’s fallen flat. He’s thinking of another day, a few years ago, when he felt on top of the world. July 17--there it is. The icon pulses with cheery brightness. He taps it.

“Nico!” Irro says, in Nico’s own voice, with his own face. “Why so glum?”

“General malaise. Tell me something happy?”

Irro smiles widely. “Freaking everything! We’ve got that promotion locked in. Ice cream’s two-for-one at the corner shop. And Sandra’s baby is home from the hospital.”

Irro’s genuine enthusiasm kindles a mirror feeling in Nico. July 17 for the win. “That’s good. What else?”

He should call Sandra. Last he heard she lost her job. But that conversation would only bring him down, and Irro’s right here, full of sunshine. Friends are okay, but Irro’s easier. Wiser. It’s his own best self, after all.