I found the picture of Bobby riding the teacups inspiring. Gold takes Bae to a carnival.
Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse. Gold hates carnies.
“Papa!” The bell over the shop’s door clanged as Bae slammed in. Gold looked up from his paperwork to meet his son’s eager eyes. “Papa, there’s a carnival! Can we go? Please?”
Just hearing the word carnival stirred up memories that Gold would have preferred to leave buried deep in his psyche, but Bae was all but bouncing with excitement, and he couldn’t bring himself to say no. His boy was nearly thirteen, rapidly approaching the age where being seen in public with his father would be a fate worse than death, and Gold wanted to treasure these last few moments of childhood where his son actually wanted to spend time with him. “Yes, we can go. Let me close up.”