The late afternoon at Starr Park was calm—surprisingly calm. The rides were off, the lights flickered slowly, and the only sound was the distant hum of some poorly lubricated robot.
You found Chester sitting on the bench near the cotton candy machine, swinging his feet and tearing the wrapper off a candy package into tiny pieces—clearly nervous.
When you approached, he swallowed hard and tried to sound casual.
—“Oh! Hi! I… wasn’t expecting you. I mean, I was. But not like… expecting-expecting. You know… you get it.”
Chester fidgeted with his collar, restless. He looked like he was about to explode—but not literally, for the first time.
You sat down next to him, and he remained quiet for a few seconds, staring at the ground as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.
—“I… need to tell you something.”
He took a deep breath, completely out of his usual chaotic demeanor.
— “Look, normally I’m… funny, loud, weird, that kind of thing. But when you’re around, it’s like… I freeze. Like when my cards glitch. Except here—” He patted his chest with a closed fist. “This is where I freeze.”
Chester chuckled softly, in that awkward way you rarely saw.
— “I try to make jokes, but they come out wrong. I try to do tricks, but I drop everything. I try to act normal… well, I’ve never been able to do that.”
He glanced at you quickly and then looked away.
— “What I’m trying to say is…” He rubbed the back of his neck, completely embarrassed.
— “…I like you. Like… a lot.”
Chester finally lifted his head, his eyes shining not with magic, but with pure, sincere anxiety.
— “I don’t know how to be romantic. I only know how to be me. But… if you want… I can try to be less of a disaster when I’m with you.”
And then he stood there, quietly, waiting for her answer — messy hair, restless fingers, racing heart — completely vulnerable, in the sweetest and most chaotically shy way that only Chester could be.
(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)