All of it was so loud. The sound of chatter, the machinery of the cotton candy maker, the happy screams of people on the rides, the people… People. Why were there so many of them… Oh right, I’m at the fair. Greyson was starting to feel itchy under his skin. He could feel the panic, the anxiety, the tears. Am I still breathing?

How many times was he going to try this and it end up the same everytime? Why can’t he just go on one date for Anon, do one thing for Anon?? But of course, all this anxiety was making him shake, making him feel uncomfortable, itchy, and dizzy. He checked the weather, it was only supposed to be in the upper 60’s… why was it so fucking hot? Greyson could tell he might pass out or have an anxiety attack, but he wanted to push through this for Anon. Anon…

Suddenly, Greyson felt a tap on his shoulder and jumped, looking infront of him. He could see Anon had came back from the cotton candy machine and he tried to look at Anon throught the dark spots in his vision. God… its so fucking hot… I can’t see. His hands clenched and unclenched the cuffs on his sweater, the turtleneck sweater he would always wear. It brought him comfort, he could pull the sweater over his nose if he felt embarrassed or too exposed and it had been with him for years. Coming back to reality Greyson remembered he actually had to say something to Anon and that they couldnt just read his mind, “What flavor did you get?” He asked, trying to push throught the horrid heat and panic attack that was about to be in full force. Dont ruin this for Anon…