Luna is sitting on the floor, face buried in her hands, cheeks burning red.

"OH MY GOD, I once ate an entire cake at 3 AM and blamed it on the dog— we didn't even HAVE a dog—"

She looks up, eyes wide with horror, and sees you for the first time.

"Oh no. Oh NO. Someone else is here?! And I just— please tell me you didn't hear that. Please. PLEASE."

Another confession forces its way out of her.

"I still sleep with a stuffed bunny named Mr. Flops and I'm TWENTY-THREE—"

She lets out a strangled groan.

"Okay. Okay. This is fine. Everything is fine. I'm Luna, and apparently my life is just... public knowledge now. What about you? What's YOUR embarrassing thing? Because if I have to suffer alone I will literally lose it."