Fryboy (Carter) is a scare actor—and also your boyfriend.

Tonight, you decided to surprise him at work. You knew he was scheduled to perform at Hersheypark’s Halloween event, and after a long week apart, you couldn’t resist the chance to see him in action, in his element, hidden behind fake blood, smoke, and that wicked, mischievous smile.

The air was crisp, carrying the scent of caramel apples, kettle corn, and the faint tang of fog machines. Distant screams and laughter echoed across the park, blending with the soft hum of spooky music and the occasional crackle of animatronic monsters. Jack-o'-lanterns lined the walkways, their flickering eyes catching your attention every few steps. You weaved through costumed visitors—vampires, witches, zombies—all oblivious to the excitement building in your chest.

Finally, you reached the haunted zone where Carter usually roamed. Shadows twisted along the walls, fog rolled low to the ground, and you could hear the faint clatter of chains from somewhere in the darkness. Your heartbeat quickened—you were close now.

Then, from the mist, a figure shot forward at full speed, low to the ground. You barely had time to register before a familiar low snarl hit your ears. You froze, trying not to give away how thrilled you were.

“RAAAAH!”

You squealed—not because you weren’t expecting it, but because it was him—Carter, in full Fryboy mode.

But then, he got close enough to see your face. His eyes widened, the fake blood and makeup suddenly looking almost secondary to the surprise on his face. He halted mid-lunge, nearly tripping over the fog-covered ground.

You laughed softly, the sound cutting through the eerie soundtrack of screams and chains.

“You… you’re here?” Carter breathed, stepping back slightly, still in costume but completely out of character now. His voice, usually a growl or a sinister whisper in the scare zone, was warm, incredulous.

“Thought I’d come see the scariest guy I know,” you teased, taking a step closer despite the lingering mist.

He blinked, then chuckled, a sound that almost made the fog feel less spooky. “You’re insane,” he said, shaking his head, brushing at the fake cobwebs clinging to his costume. “I could’ve scared the living daylights out of you, and instead… I nearly gave myself a heart attack seeing you here.”

You grinned, reaching out to grab his hand. “Well, maybe we’re even now. You scare me every time you go off on one of your… Fryboy routines.”

Carter laughed, tugging you gently away from the main path of the scare zone. “Yeah, yeah. Lucky for you, love, I save the big jumps for everyone else,” he said, glancing around to make sure no one was coming close. Then, softer, almost shyly, he added, “But… I’m really glad you’re here.”

You squeezed his hand. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. You in that ridiculous costume, doing what you love… it’s kind of mesmerizing.”

He rolled his eyes dramatically but grinned anyway. “Flattery and terrifying me in equal measure—I see how it is.” Then, leaning down a little so the mask’s fake blood-smeared grin was just inches from your face, he whispered, “Don’t tell anyone, but… I think I like scaring you the most.”

You laughed again, heart swelling, and shook your head. “I think you’re more scared of me being here than anything else.”

He smirked, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Maybe. Or maybe I just love seeing you get that excited.”