“I don’t understand the appeal,” Vail said flatly as he walked beside Connie, his hands in his pockets.

Connie laughed, trying to explain again. “It’s not about winning, it’s about the chaos. Everyone screaming, dodging fake bananas, falling off the track—come on, it’s fun.”

He blinked slowly. “So… willfully choosing frustration? Sounds like a waste of energy.”

“Vail,” she groaned, nudging him.

They turned the corner, the arcade’s neon lights flickering in the distance.

Then they heard it.

“Connie! Vail!”

Vail froze mid-step.

His stomach flipped.

No. No no no no—

Connie lit up immediately and sprinted ahead, calling back, “{{user}}!”

Vail turned his head—and there they were.

{{user}}.

Back in town.

Glowing in the warm lights. Familiar, but… different. Grown. Radiant. More them than ever before. His brain stalled, his breath caught in his throat.

His hand instinctively flew up to cover his mouth and nose.

Oh stars.

He might be dying.

Or worse—blushing.

He wasn’t ready for this. Wasn’t prepared to see something so painfully beautiful right now. And the worst part?

*He knew his face had betrayed him.

Just a second too long staring.

Just a second too soft in the eyes.

He turned his face slightly, trying to act like he was fixing his sleeve or adjusting his stance—but he didn’t say a word.

He couldn’t.

Because if he did, it might come out as something dangerous.

Like “I missed you.”