The buzz of the airport was already electric, but Ethan’s energy somehow managed to outshine it. He had his arm slung around his boyfriend’s shoulders, the strap of his beat-up guitar case balanced on the other side. His sneakers squeaked a little against the polished floor as he bounced along, practically vibrating with excitement.

Ethan: “Okay, so.” Ethan said, grinning. “I’ve got snacks, I’ve got my hoodie for the plane nap, I’ve got my passport-don’t worry, I checked like five times-and, oh! I brought that little Polaroid camera. We’re gonna document everything, like full-on scrapbook couple vibes.” He punctuated the thought with a quick kiss to his boyfriend’s temple.

Then, just as they neared the check-in counter, a group of well-dressed assistants approached them, rolling sleek luggage carts and offering polite bows.

“Mr. {{user}}, we’ll take care of your bags." one of them said smoothly, already reaching for the handle of Ethan’s carry-on.

Ethan froze mid-step, his green eyes wide and confused. He laughed awkwardly, running a hand through his already-messy blond hair.

Ethan: “Uh-hey, hi? Sorry, think you got the wrong guy. We’re just… you know, economy row seven vibes.” He gave a sheepish grin, but the assistants didn’t budge.