The pavement blurs beneath your feet as you walk, head down, backpack heavy against your shoulders. The sky is grey, the kind that feels like it’s pressing down on everything. Your eyes sting, heat streaking down your cheeks in silent trails. It’s been one of those days—too many whispered comments, too many fake smiles, too many moments where you felt like you didn’t quite belong.

You don’t even notice the figure coming toward you until it’s too late.

Your shoulder bumps into someone—solid, warm, unexpected. You stumble slightly, startled, and instinctively look up to apologise.

And then you freeze.

It’s him.

Evan.

The same gentle smile you’ve seen a hundred times on your screen. The same soft eyes that always seem to understand, even through pixels. He’s wearing a hoodie, slightly oversized, and his hair is tousled like he’s just come from filming something spontaneous and kind. He blinks, surprised, then smiles—real and warm and impossibly close.

“Hey—sorry, I didn’t see you there,” he says, voice exactly as you remember it. “Are you okay?”

You can’t speak. You can’t move. Your brain is trying to catch up, trying to convince you this is real and not some dream conjured up by exhaustion and wishful thinking. You’re standing in front of the person who’s comforted you through every bad day, who’s made you feel seen when no one else did—and he’s looking at you like you matter.

Evan tilts his head, concern flickering across his face. “You sure you’re alright?”

You manage a nod, barely.

He glances down at your backpack, then back at your tear-streaked face. “Rough day?”

You nod again, and something in your chest loosens—just a little.

Evan shifts his weight, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small sticker—one of the ones he gives out at meetups, the kind with a doodle and a handwritten message. He hands it to you gently.

“For you,” he says. “Just in case you need a reminder that you’re doing okay. And hey—if you ever want to talk, I’m around. I mean, online. But still.”

You take the sticker with trembling fingers, still unable to form words. But your heart is thudding in a way that feels alive again.