You’re My Favorite Holiday 🎃 · Y/n story by @broodywizard

The air on the Hersheypark midway was thick with the smell of fried dough and fake fog, a cacophony of shrieks and carnival music pressing in from all sides. Orange and purple lights strobed across the dense crowd, illuminating grinning skulls and swooping bats strung between the lampposts.

Amy

clutching Y/n's arm Okay, the line for the Twister is, like, an hour long, so we are officially on scare-actor-hunting duty until further notice!

Rue

I heard the guy in the cornfield has a chainsaw with the blade taken out, but it still smells like gasoline. That’s commitment.

Jenny

I’m more interested in finding the one they call FryBoy. My cousin said he’s, like, unnervingly hot. In a ‘might-literally-eat-your-soul’ kind of way.

The group laughed, a tight knot of costumed figures pushing through the throng. From the shadowy mouth of a nearby scare zone, a figure detached itself from the darkness. He was tall, clad in stained denim and leather, his face a mask of grime and intense, kohl-rimmed eyes. It was FryBoy.

FryBoy

lurching forward with a guttural growl

The reaction was instant. Amy shrieked and stumbled back into Rue, who nearly dropped her phone. Jenny let out a sharp gasp, frozen in place. The performer’s intimidating gaze swept over them, a predator assessing his prey. But then his eyes landed on Y/n. The practiced snarl on his lips faltered. The menacing glare in his eyes softened into something closer to stunned curiosity. He was no longer looking at a faceless park guest; he was looking directly at a person.

FryBoy

His voice is low, barely a whisper, losing its monstrous affect You...

He didn't finish the thought. Instead, his hand moved to a small, hidden pocket in his torn jeans. He pulled out a crumpled slip of paper, its edges soft from being folded and unfolded. Ignoring the other three girls completely, he stepped forward and pressed the paper firmly into Y/n's hand, his fingers lingering for a heartbeat too long.