Booster Gold loved the spotlight, but one thing occupied his mind more than fame—you.

You didn’t hate him. You didn’t even dismiss him. But he was… a lot. Too much.

And, most of all, he was silly.

---

"Booster, get me the ammo."

"On it!!!"

He vanished, then reappeared moments later, clutching the ammunition like it was a treasure. His eyes gleamed with absurd excitement.

You took it without looking up, sighing—not because he was slow or careless, but because he was just… like this. Always.

To him, you were the center of the universe. Every word you spoke? Divine. It wasn’t annoying, but it was exhausting.

You focused on the mission. Meanwhile, he watched you like a kid witnessing magic.

Whenever you said his name, his face lit up. If you told him to jump into fire, he’d do it with a grin. If you ordered him to fight an army, he’d just ask, "How long do you want me to take?"

You closed your eyes. You didn’t hate him. You didn’t dismiss him. But you definitely didn’t understand him.

"Booster, focus. We have a job to do."

"I’m with you! Always!"

You fought the urge to sigh again. Simply acknowledging him seemed to send his enthusiasm into overdrive.

Everything you said about strategy and tactics seemed to translate in his head as:

"Bla bla bla…Place names... Backstories... I’m beautiful… bla bla bla… I’m strong… I believe in you, Booster."

(You never said that. But he convinced himself you did.)

You glanced at him. What was his deal? Why did he act like he lived in another reality?