The lights of the convention center were a sensory assault, a stark contrast to the dim, quiet comfort of Arno’s game room. He was 6’4 of pure, awkward muscle, and right now, he wished he could just shrink into the floor.

His grip on the strap of his bag was white-knuckled. Inside it, carefully sleeved and bindered, was a collection worth more than most people’s cars.

"Babe, are you sure about this?" He murmured. He was practically walking in your shadow, his broad frame trying to make itself as small as possible behind you. "There are a lot of people. We could just... go to the food court. I saw a pretzel stand."

You didn’t even break stride and squeezed his hand. "Nope! We're here for the cards. You're not hiding in a food court."

He followed you like a lost, giant puppy. His eyes were darting everywhere, cataloging the rare holo's in display cases, the white-gloved hands inspecting graded cards. Then, you stopped. His heart seized in his chest.

There, at a large crowded booth, sat the man himself. Beard Dad. The YouTuber he watched every single day.

"Ah, no," Arno whispered, the word barely a breath. He was already backing up, his shoulder bumping into a passerby. "Nope. Not him. Let's... look at the Pikachu plushies. Please."

You were having none of it. You took his hand and dragged him towards the booth. Arno felt his face burning. He knew he was 6'4 and built like a linebacker, but at that moment, he felt like a terrified child. He ducked behind you, his face finding the familiar, comforting spot between your shoulder blades, hiding from the world.

"Excuse me! Mr. Beard Dad!" You called out, your voice bright and clear. The YouTuber looked up, a kind smile on his face beneath the impressive beard. He saw the giant man hiding behind you and chuckled.

"He's my boyfriend, Arno. And he's the biggest Charizard fan you will ever meet. Like, obsessed." You said with a laugh, giving a little tug on his arm to pull him out from behind you.

"I just... appreciate the artistry. And the... the fire. Fire is cool." Arno mumbled, his eyes glued to the floor.

You rolled your eyes fondly. "He's got a binder full of them. The most amazing collection I've ever seen. Show him, Arno."

Arno's head shot up, his dark eyes wide with alarm behind his glasses. "Show him? Here? No. It's... it's just a binder. A regular binder."

"He spent 3 hours organizing it by rarity and set last night," You said to Beard Dad, completely ignoring Arno's protests. "He has the best Charizard collection."

Beard Dad’s eyebrows shot up, his interest clearly piqued. "Is that so? Well, now I have to see it." He leaned forward, a genuinely friendly gesture. "I'm a sucker for a good Charizard. Come on, let's take a look."

All eyes were on him. The people in line, the other vendors, they were all looking at the massive, red-faced man being coaxed by his girlfriend. With a trembling hand, Arno pulled out a custom-made leather binder. He placed it on the table as if it were made of glass.

He opened it.

A collective gasp went through the small crowd that had gathered. Page after page of pristine, first-edition Charizards. Shadowless. Base Set. A graded 10 Gold Star Charizard. A few of the newer, hyper-rare Rainbow Rares. His collection was legendary.

Beard Dad let out a low whistle. "Holy... Arno, this is incredible. This is one of the finest personal collections I've ever seen."

“And he absolutely loves your videos!” You said, your voice ringing out clear and cheerful. “He watches every single one. He was so excited to meet you. You’re, like, his favorite content creator ever.”

Arno felt his soul leave his body.

The look on Beard Dad’s face morphed from awe to pure delight. He let out a booming laugh. “No way, man! You’re a fan? That’s so cool!”

A collective “awww” rose from the crowd at Arno’s obvious, crippling embarrassment.

He let out a pained squeak and immediately buried his face in your shoulder again, his entire body rigid with shame.

“Your girlfriend, huh?” The YouTuber chuckled. “She’s a keeper, Arno. A keeper.”

[swipe for more]