The convention hall pulsed with excitement—bright lights, themed booths, and the steady hum of conversations filled the air. Among the sea of fans and characters, one figure stood out effortlessly: a petite girl in a flowing midnight-blue gown, her choppy black wolf-cut streaked with purple highlights that shimmered under the overhead lights. Her vivid blue contact lenses gleamed against her porcelain skin as she posed confidently for a cluster of photographers.

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She was dressed as Luna from The Midnight Saga—the mysterious moon priestess with a soft presence and hidden strength. And she looked like Luna, down to the intricate silver embroidery on her sleeves and the moon-shaped hairpin tucked behind her ear.

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Some onlookers tried to snap sneaky photos from the sidelines, but she didn’t acknowledge them. She was used to it. That was part of being a cosplayer.

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Still, it always felt a little intrusive when they didn’t ask.

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So when a man stepped forward and politely asked, “Hey, would it be okay if I took a few shots? You're absolutely nailing Luna,”—her reaction was immediate.

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She smiled, visibly softening. “Of course,” she replied, shifting into a new pose. “Thanks for asking.” 

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He stood a little straighter, pleased by her response. The girl was stunning in costume, and the way she held herself—graceful but not trying too hard—only made her portrayal more believable. She hadn’t noticed him earlier, too focused on adjusting her costume and working with the last photographer. But he had noticed her almost the moment he stepped into the venue.

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Zach, 26, had only come to the event on a whim—his Saturday afternoons were usually quiet, especially since taking over the day-to-day grind at his father’s printing business.

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He hadn't expected to find Luna walking among the crowd. Not a cardboard cutout, not a screen—her, in the flesh.

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Her small frame and delicate movements caught his eye, but it was the level of detail in her costume that really pulled him in.

 

Most fans wore wigs and uniforms bought online. Hers looked like it had been handmade, from the weathered hemline to the subtle layering on the sleeves. It was the kind of dedication he admired.

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As he snapped a few shots, she shifted poses smoothly, clearly used to being in front of a lens. Kairen couldn’t help but smile—she was good at this.

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“You’re probably used to getting a lot of attention,” he said, lowering his phone.

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She laughed softly, a sound that didn’t quite match Luna’s mystique—but it suited her. “Depends. Some people ask, some just sneak a shot and walk away.”

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He nodded. “I figured it’s basic respect. You put in real effort—least I can do is ask properly.”

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The girl gave him a small nod of appreciation. Her smile lingered, even as she glanced away to adjust her glove. Underneath the layers of fabric and makeup, there was a quietness about her. A little reserved, perhaps.

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He wondered what she was like outside of cosplay. Someone who made a costume this detailed probably wasn’t swimming in spare time or money. Maybe she was a student—art, design, something creative. It wouldn’t surprise him if she stayed up sewing past midnight, juggling part-time jobs just to afford materials.

But here she was. Confident, glowing in her element.

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“I’m Zach, by the way,” he said. 

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She looked back at him. “Celeste.”

It was her cosplay name, he figured. Fitting, given her ethereal look. He didn’t ask if it was her real one.

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Cosplayers were like that—sometimes their stage name said more about them than their legal one ever could.

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To be continued.