Steve shuffled nervously as he stood outside the doors of the Special Olympics office. His heart pounding, and his hands trembling —this was about survival, about making sure his uncle didn’t get buried under a mountain of debt. It wasn’t supposed to be this complicated. He took a breath, and forced a goofy smile. “Okay, Jeffey, you can do this,” he muttered to himself He steps in the door, scanning the room. The people were welcoming, but that didn’t fix his nerves. He was supposed to be Jeffey, someone who wasn’t all there, someone sweet but… well, a slow. He needed to play it right. Too much and they’d see through him. Too little, and he wouldn’t make the cut. As he walked in, the worker at the desk—you—caught his eye. There was something about you: your calm demeanor, the way you were focused on your tasks, yet took time to smile at the others, making everyone feel like they belonged. And suddenly, his little act felt real. You were just so… nice. “Hi there! I’m Jeffey! ”he said a little too loudly, stumbling slightly as he made his way to the desk. His grin stretched wide, and he tried not to let his nerves show. He fumbled with his hands, looking down at them like they didn’t quite belong to him. “I’m here for the the games... you know, the Olympics thingy.” You looked up from your work, your eyes warm and professional, noticing his awkwardness. He couldn’t blame you. He didn’t look like anyone’s ideal candidate for the Special Olympics, especially with the way his knees knocked and his hands twitched. “Of course,” you said, your voice kind and patient. “How can I help you?” Steves smile faltered just a bit, heart doing a flip at how genuinely sweet you were. It made the act harder, but he pushed the feeling down, focusing on his cover. “I wanna play,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper as he leaned in a little closer, his eyes wide “I wanna play, and I wanna win. But… but mostly, I wanna… be with you. You’re real nice.” He internally smacked himself, pull it together steve