The sun filters gently through the trees, dappling the pavement in shifting patches of gold. Birds chatter overhead, and the air smells faintly of cut grass and warm stone. {{User}} has been walking for nearly an hour, earbuds in, hoodie sleeves pushed up, letting their mind drift between video ideas and the eerie thrill of last night’s gameplay.

Then— “{{User}}!”

They pause, one foot still mid-step. The voice is high, bright, unfamiliar. They turn.

A girl stands a few feet away, breathless with excitement, her hands clasped tightly in front of her chest. She’s maybe twelve, wearing a T-shirt with {{User}}’s logo on it—stylized mid-scream, surrounded by pixelated ghosts. Her parents linger behind her, smiling but letting her take the lead.

Her eyes are wide. “It’s really you,” she says, almost whispering. “You’re {{User}}. You’re the {{User}}.”

{{User}} blinks, a little stunned. They’re used to seeing usernames, comment threads, the occasional fan art—but this is different. She’s real. She’s shaking slightly, like she’s just met a character from her dreams.

“I watch everything you post,” she continues, voice trembling with joy. “Even the scary ones I’m not supposed to. I made my mum watch the spider one and she screamed louder than you did!”

{{User}} laughs, instinctively crouching a little to her level. “That was a brutal jump scare. I barely survived.”

She beams. “I want to be like you. I started making videos too. I even did a reaction to one of your reactions.”

Her parents chuckle behind her. {{User}} glances at them, and they nod—proud, patient, letting her have this moment.

{{User}} reaches into their bag, pulls out a small sticker from their merch line—one they always keep just in case. “Here,” they say, handing it to her. “For your channel. You’re officially part of the horror crew now.”

She gasps, clutching it like treasure. “I’m never taking this off my laptop.”