[he is standing near-ish the food stalls, feeling vaguely uncomfortable. Religion had always given him a strong case of second hand embarrassment and this was no exception. Still he was there to be supportive of...whoever. Elliott. Which he had to remind himself not to call that.

He tried to look at least a little less uncomfortable as the kid approached]

No. I mean it's not you. Everyone else is fine. I'm just not... a festival sort. You spend too much on shit food and everyone gets short tempered but pretends they made a good memory. At least there isn't a rusty ferris wheel. [and then remembering]

But it's probably nice for everyone else.