Surrounded by a sea of people, several food trucks line the area. Zoe, perched on her father’s shoulders like a submarine periscope, scans the crowd for our target.

  “Over there, Dad! WG.” She points at a sleek, all-metal food truck with just one logo: World Gourmet with William Grant.

  That’s our main reason for being here. While most people come to meet fellow camping enthusiasts and share outdoor experiences, we’re here for the food. Or more specifically, because of Ella’s crazy idea to meet William Grant — an idea that dragged us into this mess and led to a series of humiliations and awkward encounters.

  But at least now we’ve checked into our three-star hotel not too far from here. I’m safe among normal people.

  I don’t even mind when someone yells at me to take my shirt off — I know how to handle that by now. Returning to these everyday interactions feels so much better. Incredibly, I feel less degraded by this than I did under that man’s stare. How humiliating.

  This is my natural habitat. I also make sure to show my companions the perks of it by securing some time for us to meet William Grant in person.

  I’m surprised to find he’s almost Ella’s height — he seemed so tall in his videos. But he really does come across as kind, just like we expected.

  He sits with us, enthusiastically explaining the different dishes he’s prepared. We take a few pictures and exchange autographs.

  “Before the show tonight, there’s going to be a dinner for sponsors in the VIP lounge,” the YouTuber chef says, clearly excited, probably already picturing the attention he’ll get and how the VIP crowd will find it fascinating that he brought me along. “I can get a few more invites. It’d be amazing if you guys came. What do you think?”

  I glance at the others, who nod eagerly at the invitation.

  “We’d love to.”

  “I’ll be there earlier, so around 8:00 PM, give me a call, and I’ll send one of my guys to bring you in.”

  Stolen story; please report.

  “Sounds great. Thanks for the invite.”

  Excited, he chats with us a little longer, but with my fans and his employees calling him back to the kitchen, we eventually say our goodbyes.

  “We’ve got just a few hours left. Let’s head to the hotel and get ready. I need to see if I own anything remotely fancy enough to have dinner with rich people.”

  We all agree and follow Ella.

  “His food is as good as yours. Pretty similar, actually,” Zoe says.

  “He’s even friendlier than in his videos,” Ella adds.

  “I thought his eyes were green from the videos, but they’re actually brown. And he’s shorter. And chubbier,” Zoe observes.

  “Zoe… No.” Her mother looked at her.

  “I’m not bullying him, I’m just stating facts. But I know, I won’t say it to his face — that could hurt his feelings.” She rolls her eyes. “Who cares if he’s chubby? I’d be too if I had unlimited access to amazing food. And his being short makes it easier to talk to me. I don’t have to climb him like I do with Dad or wait for him to crouch down.”

  “Good point, Zoe.” I grin, exchanging a conspiratorial look with Ella. Only a kid would think like that.

  “Even though I like seeing from up high, it’s really different from seeing things from down here.” She holding out her arms for her dad to carry her. Wally laughs, delighted by the small but significant perk of being tall.

  “JJ’s influence must’ve helped shape his kindness and generosity,” Wally says, flashing me a knowing smile. “Another free dinner, two nights in a row. What a budget-friendly trip. Is it always like this with you?”

  “No, I don’t eat out that often. And last night’s dinner definitely wasn’t free because of my fame.”

  “I’d say it was more about his chivalry — thinking about Zoe and Ella.”

  “I highly doubt he would’ve come back to help us if they weren’t in the car. He probably thought, ‘They’re men. They’ll figure it out.’” I say, disgusted. The others laugh, knowing I’m probably right.

  “Same goes for the shower and the food.”

  “We would’ve spent the night stuck in the mud, wet and freezing, with only food for comfort.”

  “Maybe we’d still be stuck.”

  “Sam’s not like that. He’s a good man,” Zoe defends him again.

  “A gentleman. A knight in shining armor — for you two. For me? He might as well have yelled, ‘Man up!’”

  At that, Wally bursts out laughing.

  “And I’m sure you gave him plenty of reasons to say something like that,” he teases.

  I groan, burying my face in my hands. “Enough. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”