Dylan watched as the tall, handsome figure of the God of Youth strode off among the crowds. People stared and gawped, and more than a few people took photographs as he passed.
"Hey...Yo...yeah, nice to see you too..."
He stopped every few feet to pose for snapshots, or to smile, wave, or sign autographs.
"What's that?" he said, to a girl who hurried up to him. "Oh, my book? Sure, sweetheart...To...Olivia..."
Dylan stared as the youthful deity whipped out an elaborate-looking gold fountain pen to fill in the inscription.
"There you are!" he said. He handed the book back, and gave the girl a kiss on the hand. She blushed!
Dylan groaned! He was so jealous of everybody who got to see Flavius, got to be up close to him, got to look him in the eye! He so badly wanted to meet him!
Waddling forwards, Dylan nudged his way past the crowds of people coming the other way, trying to get to other parts of the convention, but keeping up with Flavius was almost impossible! He moved so fast, and seemed to slip through the crowds like he was made of air. Dylan thought about calling out to him, but what if he made a scene? That would never do...
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