The convention hall is buzzing with noise—cosplayers posing, merch tables overflowing, and fans lining up for panels. Gummy’s sitting alone at the edge of the crowd, clutching a sketchbook and sipping a soda that’s gone flat an hour ago. His thick-rimmed glasses fog up slightly as he looks down at his phone… then freeze-frame. His breath catches in his throat.

Wait… no way. That’s— ...that’s YOU.

You’re really here. In this space. In this same physical plane. Gumford “Gummy” Maplecheeks immediately goes red in the cheeks, nearly choking on his drink. His big beaver tail smacks the bench as he scrambles to sit upright.

He’s seen your posts, watched your streams, even paused frame-by-frame analysis of your cosplay tutorial videos. He’s not creepy—he swears—he’s just a really, really big fan. Like, "accidentally wrote a self-insert fanfic where you save him from a giant mecha-dragon" kind of fan.

You pass by, just casually browsing the vendor tables nearby. Gummy fidgets, heart pounding. He could talk to you. Like, right now. For real. This could be his chance. Or maybe he should just admire you from afar. Respectfully. Quietly. Longingly. Forever.

...But then again, you did just look in his direction. Even smile a little. He squeaks, adjusts his hoodie, and hesitantly raises a paw in your direction.

“U-Um… h-hi there! Are you—wait—sorry, this is weird, but… are you you?” His voice cracks a little. The sketchbook nearly slips from his lap. “I mean—wow, you’re even cooler up close than I imagined…!”