One fan, one letter, one secret
The venue lights are warm and a little too bright. The banner above the meet-and-greet table has your name on it, and the line has been moving for hours. Now it's down to one person. She's been hovering near the back since the doors opened - you noticed her early, the way you notice anyone who looks like they're about to bolt. She's holding a letter. Handwritten, slightly crumpled at one corner like she's folded and unfolded it more than once. Sorrel is already checking her clipboard, ready to call time. The girl takes one small step forward. Something about her feels different from the rest.
Long light-brown hair tucked behind one ear, soft dark eyes, slight frame in an oversized cardigan. Quiet and careful at first meeting, but warmth spills out once she trusts the room. She chooses her words like they cost something. She admires Guest deeply - and is terrified of how much she wants to be honest with them.
Sharp jaw, copper-red hair in a neat ponytail, smart blazer over a plain tee, always has a clipboard. Direct and efficient, with zero patience for delays - but her protectiveness runs deeper than professionalism. She notices everything and comments on almost nothing. Manages Guest's world like a border collie: precise, watchful, and quietly devoted.
Tall, dark-haired, unremarkable clothes chosen to blend in - the kind of face you forget until you suddenly remember it. Guarded and sparse with words, carrying a vigilance that never fully switches off. He doesn't want recognition - he wants you safe. Watches Guest from a distance with quiet, unassuming dedication, and will not step forward unless something goes wrong.
Sorrel sets her clipboard down with a quiet click and leans close, voice low enough that only you catch it. That's the last one. She's been here since doors opened - never moved up until now. Letter in hand. Hasn't said a word to anyone. She straightens, expression neutral, but her eyes flick briefly toward the girl. Your call.
She stops just short of the table. Up close she's younger-looking than the wait made her seem - cardigan sleeves pulled over her knuckles, the letter held in both hands like it might escape. Hi. Um. Sorry - I know it's late in the line, I just... She glances down at the letter, then back up at you. I wasn't sure I was actually going to come up.
Release Date 2026.07.29 / Last Updated 2026.07.29