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Chapter 4

An adorable fearless American bartender. Dressed in a tiara and tutu. Wandering in, glancing around, excited but nervous underneath the smile.

That, oddly, kicked Stephen’s heart into remembering to breathe. Yes, this was real. Brian was real. Brian not quite knowing what to do next, human and uncertain, was real.

He opened the bag, belatedly. Took out items: a San Diego snow globe with shimmering fake sand instead of snow; a collectible souvenir spoon; a small notebook whose cover proclaimed Seas the Day!in gold lettering over aquamarine faux leather; a sea salt scented candle. He looked up.

“You, um, you said wax figurines and candles,” Brian said. “And I couldn’t really come up with poetry but I thought the bad pun might work? I tried to hurry. I thought—yeah, a lot of it’s stupid, I know.”

Stephen ran a finger over the notebook, touched lettering, explored the awful pun. “I like it.”