You’re standing in line at the convention, clutching the event pass a little tighter in your hand. The crowd buzzes with excitement, but in your chest, it feels quieter — heavier. Each step forward brings you closer. Closer to him. The person who, maybe unknowingly, saved your life. You see him now — sitting at the booth, smiling gently as he talks to a fan, his eyes warm with that same quiet sincerity you saw in that stream. The one where he opened up about the things no one talks about. The one where he made everyone promise. You still remember the words. The weight of them. The way they wrapped around your heart and held it, even when everything felt like it was slipping. A few people ahead. One step closer. Your throat tightens. You’re not sure what you’ll say — maybe just “thank you,” maybe everything. Maybe nothing. Maybe you’ll cry. And that would be okay.