"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" I said, reaching out to steady both myself and the person I'd bumped into. It was a man in his thirties, dressed in dark jeans and a black hoodie. He had a professional-looking camera hanging around his neck, the kind photographers used for events or journalism. "No worries," he said, his voice pleasant enough. He adjusted his camera. "My fault. I wasn't watching where I was going." "Are you okay? Did I damage your camera?" I asked, suddenly worried. He checked it quickly. "Nope, all good. These things are built to take a beating." "Are you here for an event or something?" Trevor asked, eyeing the camera curiously. "Just documenting the opening week for the owners," the man said. "They want photos of people having fun for their social media." "That makes sense," I said. "Well, sorry again." "Really, it's fine," he said with a smile, then moved past us toward the arcade section. Trevor and I continued to mini golf, where his putting skills proved t
Last Updated : 2025-11-18 Read more