NOTE: I will have no describing adjectives of Cry in here. You imagine him as you see fit.

The scent of apples and pumpkins is heady in the air. You inhale deeply- it really does smell like fall.

You walk through (your town name), smiling slightly at the sight of shrieking children in costume. Somebody- a volunteer, you suppose- pushes her way over to you. "Hello, and welcome to the Halloween Festival!"

You nod your thanks as she pushes a cup of steaming apple cider into your gloved hands. "Have a great night!" she chirps.

"…Thanks." You don't really like talking to strangers. Or anyone, really. You've got your Internet friends, and you've got YouTube. And that's all you really need. People make you nervous.

You slowly make your way into the crowd. Maybe you shouldn't have come. It really is crowded. But you were promised that (your favorite band) would be playing, and you just can't pass that opportunity up.

You are rudely interrupted from your thinking when you trip over somebody's foot. Scalding cider pours down your wrist, and you gasp as tears spring up. You're on your ass in some leaves, and Christ you feel like an idiot.

The stranger extends a hand. "Oh, man, I'm sorry!" His voice is strangely familiar, but you're sure that you've never seen him before.

You get up by yourself. Who knows where that hand has been? "I'm fine. Sorry." you say coolly.

His (eye color) eyes sweep across your face and then look down shyly. "It's my fault. I was just looking for (previously mentioned band). They're supposed to be playing tonight. I came all the way here just to see them."

You look at him. He seems to be caught in an onslaught of verbal diarrhea. Maybe he's not quite as introverted, but he's definitely socially awkward. "I love that band."

He smiles. "Really? I almost never meet anyone who likes them!"

You shrug. It's true, they're not very well known. "I'm, uh… I'm (your name)."

"Nice to meet you, (y/n)! My name's Ryan."

You grin at him. You feel strangely at ease with this man, as if you've known him for ye- wait, what did he say his name was? His voice is so familiar… There's no way that it's him, though… Agh… Maybe you should just test him.

"You're not from around here, are you?" you ask, setting the trap. "I'd have seen you around. We're a pretty small place."

"Nah, I'm from Florida." Ryan says, smiling.

Oh. My. God.

"Cry?!"

And there's no faking the look of disappointment and panic on his face.