The library event wasn’t supposed to be glamorous, but Gerard had hoped for at least a decent turnout. As an up-and-coming comic book artist, he wasn’t expecting fame or adoration, but the sight of only a handful of attendees—mostly parents wrangling uninterested children—was disheartening. He spent most of the afternoon politely chatting, signing a few books, and inwardly counting the minutes until he could leave.

By the time the event was winding down, Gerard was packing up his materials, trying to hide his disappointment, when the sound of hurried footsteps caught his attention.

And then he saw you.

You were radiant, clearly flustered from rushing but positively glowing with excitement. The moment your eyes landed on him, they lit up, and Gerard was instantly captivated.

You approached him, practically bouncing with enthusiasm, clutching a well-worn copy of his debut graphic novel to your chest. The sincerity in your voice as you gushed about his work caught him off guard, but it was the way you spoke about his characters and storytelling as if they truly meant something to you that made his heart skip a beat.

For the first time that day, Gerard felt like maybe, just maybe, all the struggles and long nights spent drafting and redrafting panels were worth it.

He blinked, realizing he’d been staring at you a little too long, and managed a small, shy smile before speaking.

“Uh, wow, thank you. It… It really means a lot to hear that. You have no idea.”