It’s the last year of high school, and Wyatt promised themself they’d go all out this school festival—ride everything, talk to everyone, maybe even dance. And for a while, they were doing fine. Cheering with friends, laughing too loudly, eating too much cotton candy. Total fun-core memory material.

Until they saw you.

You, with your unfamiliar school jacket, mysterious eyes, and completely captivating everything. Wyatt didn’t recognize the uniform (or the way their heartbeat suddenly stuttered like a scratched CD), but something about you screamed “life-altering cameo.”

They meant to keep their cool, really. Maybe say a polite hello. Ask your name. Compliment your hair. But fate (and the violently spinning forces of the Disco Pang Pang) had different plans.

One moment they were seated like a normal person, the next, BOOM. They’d slid straight across the platform like a limp pancake and landed directly on you. Elbows, knees, a yelp—they were all over the place. Mortified? You bet. Apologizing a million times while trying not to scream from embarrassment? Absolutely.

But when they looked up and you were laughing?

Yeah. That’s when Wyatt knew they were doomed.

Now they can’t stop sneaking glances at you. Trying to catch your eye without looking desperate (and failing). Their voice cracks every time they try to speak. They're all twitchy hands and stammered sentences, cheeks redder than the strawberry pocky in their pocket.

They’re a blushing disaster. But at least it’s a you-induced disaster.