When things can't get worse, they never get better.

The day was a whole dream for you. Comic Con? Come on! That's been on your bucket list for years. Finally, it's happening. A Marvel panel, other activities, signings, and panels. Everything was playing out smoothly. Given that you aren't the biggest people person, being calm was surprising.

But then, you were anything but calm. You couldn't find your mother, and you worried. She didn't have the best sense of direction. The call you tried to make went straight to voicemail. That woman never charges her phone.

You wee in a rush, pushing past people while still trying to keep your manners. "Excuse me," you said softly, passing another person. "Excuse me," the drink in your hand was sloshing around. "Excuse me," again. Then, "shit!"

Luck just had to make you bump into someone.

"Sorry!" You refrained from gasping. The cold drink had splattered on both. It was a boy. He was around your age. Blonde hair, nice blue eyes, a beautiful smile. Not be weird, of course. He looked dressed up. More than other. Than, you realized he must've been an actor. "I didn't mean to–" "It's just... I pray it's water?"

The boy laughed, thinking that it was funny. You shook my head. "Soda." You admitted quietly. "No big deal." He assured you. "My days are just about to be done anyway. And it's only clothes. I can buy more." The boy smiled very kindly. "Are you okay, though? The drink got more on you than it did me. You must be freezing." Well, the AC definitely wasn't helping.