Their enthusiastic grin slips. Their bangs are covering their already-narrow eyes, but other-Frisk might notice their gaze flicking over them. Looking for bruises, cuts, anything--but hurts not on the body can be just as bad, and it's not like someone can't hide pain under clothes.

Frisk realizes they've let the silence go on for too long. "Um. It's good you have your music. But there's not--your parents aren't here, an' I don't think they'll ever be. And mosta the kids here are alright."