Y/n moved with the current of their friends—Amy, Rue, and Jenny—a tight pod of laughter and sequins navigating a sea of monsters and mascots. The roar of a distant coaster and the tinny calliope of a nearby ride provided the chaotic soundtrack.

He moved with a predator's grace, closing the distance in three silent strides before unleashing a guttural roar directly into their group.

The reaction was instant and electric. Amy shrieked and ducked behind Rue. Jenny yelped, her hands flying to her star crown. The entire friend group scattered back a step in a wave of panic.

FryBoy’s intimidating gaze swept over them, a performer assessing his work. But then his eyes, dark and sharp, snagged on Y/n. The practiced menace in his expression flickered. Faltered. His head tilted a fraction of an inch.

The scare was over, but he didn't move to terrify anyone else. He just stood there, his stare locked, the roar of the crowd fading into a dull hum around you both.