Turning the Page

by Olivia Gaines

  The insulting man in the vendor shop had been just another testosterone filled moron who wanted to get into her pants before getting into her head. Her eyes grew wide at the mere thought of the stories she could tell about the misunderstandings from men who wanted to be a part of her world, but really did not understand what she was trying to accomplish. Jayne wanted to be a costume designer and design an original comic book character.

  She lived art. She drank art. In her free time, she breathed comics and she knew this year was going to be her swan song. This year she was going to debut her comic book even if she had to self-publish it on Kindle or Blurb. The work was good. The script was even better. The art work was high caliber, but it was lacking something. She could not put her finger on it, but there was still some time to figure out the defunct.

  At 28 years old, Jayne had scored her job with Cawley Public Relations after an internship her senior year in art school. She had not planned to stay with the company for five years, but it was a good fit. Moving back home had not been an easy decision, but her Grammy was getting up in age and the break up with Alex had nearly cost her the small amount of sanity that was left over after sketching and scribbling fictional characters. Occasionally, she would make it to a con and get to dress up as one of her favorite characters as well.

  Cosplaying to her was a step beyond LARPing and far more fun. Cosplay was a great way for costume designers to get together and show off their craft. The conferences allowed other comic book, fantasy, and science fiction lovers to get together and play games. To her, there was a big difference between cosplaying and LARPing. LARPing is live action role-playing, where the characters actually create scenarios and reenact scenes. That was just a bit too geeky for Jayne’s taste. However, getting a chance to don a costume and become the character, changed the way she felt about herself. She loved how the costumes made her feel. In costume, she was powerful and pretty.

  Commanding. Admired. Loved.

  None of the things she exhibited in real life. In real life, she was a petite weird black woman, with crazy hair, a gap in her teeth and dreams that men did not understand. Even her mother didn’t understand her. She felt at times that her friends were humoring her when they listened to her stories. Eventually, she had stopped sharing her ideas. None of what she said was coming to fruition, so it was all just a pipe dream. Or so it had been. This weekend, she was going to change her fate. Winning this costume contest was going to change her storyline. This was going to move her dream forward.

  Something made her come to a stop. Besides the several people wanting to take photos with her, she felt eyes boring into her back. Slowly she turned around and spotted the Gambit dude still watching her. Camera flashes were going off as she posed with a few children, two men, and the last one she took, she posed in a fighting stance. The shock she felt when she realized she was posing with Gambit was almost too much. The charge between the two of them was palpable.

  A small crowd began to gather as Gambit slid into another pose. Not to be outdone, she altered her stance to a second pose matching him. The crowd began to chant as Gambit pulled playing cards from his pockets and sent them flying into the crowd. In a flash, he grabbed her by the hand and pulled her close, segueing into a third pose that caused the crowd to go mad. He held her close with his hands in the small of her back. She could feel the power of his thighs pressing against her own while the male part of him pressed to her delicate part as he hoisted her thigh to ensure she felt his enthusiasm. The kids were all smiling. The flashes from the cameras had nearly blinded her, but she got a grip on herself. Without making a scene, Jayne pulled away, bowed to the audience, and kowtowed to Gambit, making eye contact with him while mouthing the words, “asshole.”

  She rounded the corner with Toshi on her heels, but the throng of people closed in on him wanting more pictures. He would not be able to get to her in time and he felt antsy, charged up, excited and ready for.......whatever. He wasn’t sure. Toshi knew that whatever it was, it included that woman.

  Jayne rounded the corner, out of breath and full of conflicted emotions. When Gambit took her hand, the sparks that flew up her arm were electric. The man was a pig to even pull her in close like that, so she could feel the pure maleness of his body. It was offensive! Yet, she had never experienced such an intense feeling with anyone.

  - Chapter 4-

  The light from the ceiling was cascading down on the dais, illuminating the strong facial features of the instructor. Jayne watched with some amusement as she eyed his strong jawline, high cheek bones, and Asian eyes. His irises were dark, giving him an aura of mystery, intrigue, and a hint of something she could not mash her finger into. Something felt familiar about him, but his skill set with shadowing was amazing. Each stroke of his wrist sparked her imagination as he tinted the panels of each comic book cell, demonstrating how to darken areas of the body to simulate motion. It was uncertain if the attraction she was feeling derived from his talent or the confidence which radiated from his role as an instructor. Either way, Dr. Toshi Yamaguchi was sexy as hell to her.

  She had never dated an Asian man, nor had any interest in doing so until now, but this man was giving her second thoughts. First that Gambit dude, now him. She thought back to her philosophy professor, who found Freudian meaning in every occurrence. She had met two very different Asian men in two days. One she found completely repulsive. The other, she found fascinating. The soft, confident way in which he delivered the two hour block of instruction was followed along with a trancelike state of conference goers. Jayne found herself hypnotized by his words and enlightened with his instruction.

  Banzaicon was only the fourth conference that Jayne had attended in her life. Outside of her run-in with that Gambit guy, she was enjoying herself immensely. After the check in on Friday night, she noticed two new classes had been added to the schedule. Shadowing Techniques for Comics, and Creating Original Characters. She jumped at the chance to take the courses. Thus far she had not been disappointed. The instructor was absolutely phenomenal as he used his tablet to sketch out designs, while having the audience follow along. Jayne was even more impressed that he left the make shift stage to walk through the room to check the progress of each of the attendee’s work before he moved on to the next technique. At some instance during the instruction, it was twice as impressive that Dr. Yamaguchi laid eyes on every single drawing in the room, providing quasi one on one with every attendee in the session. This was doubly impressive, considering it was standing room only. The younger fans were eating it up, when he looked at their pages, giving canned responses of “good, a little darker here,” or “great job.” Jayne even found she puffed up a bit when he glanced at her work, stating “good eye for detail.” Now she felt foolish because he smelled good too. She was fighting back the urge to get all goofy like many of the women on the front row were.

  In the final steps of the drawing, Dr. Yamaguchi employed an old technique of using time lapse to dictate shadow. “Start your shadowing technique at noon. To simulate running, shift the shadow to two o’clock, then three in the next frame.” Jayne had never considered such a thing, but when he demonstrated his idea in three panels, the whole room said, “ahhh.” Before long, the two hours were up. Dr. Yamaguchi thanked everyone for coming.

  The young women flocked to the instructor as Jayne sat, still sketching out an idea that had come to mind based on his last words. No other course had been planned in this room until after lunch, so she continued to work, drafting through her ideas. She was listening, but not listening. As the instructor escorted the women to the door, his deep voice reminded her of the bad guy in the Karate movies who always came into the whore house and drank up all the Sake. He told the young ladies, “I must leave now to grab a bite to eat, before the next session. Excuse me.” She found herself smiling as she mimicked, “ah, yes, Mr. Woo, so glad to have you in our fine establishment.” She let out a pretend courtesan giggle like she had heard the Asian women do in the movies.<
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  One of the young ladies asked him to join her, but he declined, saying he had already committed to having lunch with a friend. Jayne heard that part from his practiced lines and just imagined his new friend as some dim-witted ingénue in a Sailor Moon costume. Dr. Yamaguchi’s deep voice was rich with southern undertones and dripping with the practiced ease of a very expensive education. The ladies sounded disappointed, but he turned to Jayne asking, “Are we ready my friend? I am starving.”

  Jayne looked over her shoulder to see who he was talking to and spying no one else in the room, she quickly realized it was her. The look on his face was asking for a rescue, which made her gather her things and say, “sure thing ole pal. Ready when you are.”

  He opened the outer door for her and led the way to the hotel restaurant. “I only have an hour or so before the next session, so I hope you don’t mind eating here and...” he paused, cutting her a side glance. “... You do know I heard you back there?”

  She gulped, lowering her head in shame at the racial stereotype she had projected, mumbling an apology. She would make it up to him over lunch. Jayne had not realized how hungry she had been until she smelled the food. The hotel restaurant did not seem like a good idea, but most of the conference attendees were headed out for pizza or sandwiches, which left the lobby seating open. Toshi pulled out a chair for her then went to the bar to grab a couple of menus.

  What are you doing here with him? Wild thoughts ran through her mind that it was going to be the prickliest lunch ever, but to her surprise it was not. The conversation was light after he thanked her for coming to his rescue. His voice remained steady as he said, “I love to attend cons, but I am uncertain if many of the attendees are even old enough to drink, so I err on the side of caution.”

  “You seem to have a great number of groupies for an artist.”

  He smiled as he raised his hand for the waiter to come over. “Art is sexy. I am an artist.” He arched an eyebrow indicating that she needed to deduct the final formula.

  “You are a sexy artist,” she said in a flat voice. It was more of a question than a logical deduction.

  “Really, you think so? I thank you.” He let out a chuckle before adding, “have you decided what you would like?”

  Jayne looked at the menu and decided on a Chicken Caesar Salad, as she watched him over the rim of her glasses. He ordered a pot of tea. Since she had been insulting before, she felt she needed him to understand that she was not ignorant of his culture. When the tea arrived, she stood and kowtowed to him while filling his tea cup. She poured a bit for herself, then took a seat. He watched her with some interest, but his facial expressions were indecipherable.

  As the food arrived, he ate rice with chopped vegetables and Sautéed Chicken, as he reviewed notes and sketches. It felt peculiar to sit here like this with him, sharing a meal, yet it was perfectly comfortable. They were sharing a space, but not sharing each other. He had not asked her name and she had not volunteered to provide him with it.

  She looked up from her salad and found him staring at her. “What?” she asked.

  “There is something about you that speaks to me,” he said as he cut into the last chunk of chicken.

  Jayne wasn’t sure if it was a pick up line or another smart ass comment. “Thank you,” was all she could muster. He sat there waiting for her to say something.

  “What?”

  “I don’t know,” he said as he shrugged his shoulders. “There is something about you. Your qi is calling to me.” His heart rate had picked up again. This was an uncommon reaction for him around a woman. Although he had been with a few black women before, she felt different. It unsettled him.

  “I thought Chi was a Chinese term,” she said while continuing to eat her meal but looked at her watch.

  “Qi, or, chi and even Xi, are terms that are in several languages. All meaning life force. I don’t know what it is about you....” His words trailed off as he eyed the check.

  There was a quick demonstration on Kimono making in one of the break out rooms that she wanted to see before going to his next session on creating original characters. She picked up her purse, grabbed a twenty from her wallet, and laid it on the table. “Well, today is not the day for you to figure it out.” She bowed again and told him to take care as she headed down the hall to the demonstration.

  There was something about him as well that made her feel off kilter. She didn’t like it... not one bit. Playing with a man like that always came at a price and she was unwilling to pay the toll.

  The afternoon class was equally phenomenal as Dr. Yamaguchi showed the attendees how to use a favorite personal photo as a template to create an original character. The sound of pencils against sketch pads making strokes and shading, radiated throughout the crowded room. As he had earlier in the morning, Toshi milled through the throng of sketchers, who had laid out on the floor, leaned against the walls, and occupied every chair, as they presented their work to him at the midway point. The latter portion of the session, he taught his makeshift students the importance of drawing muscles, muscle tone, and muscle sinew. Jayne was amazed at how much better her earlier sketch looked after applying these newly learned techniques. She found herself staring at him absently.

  As if he felt her eyes upon him, Toshi turned, catching her unaware, meeting her gaze. His heartbeat sped up when their eyes connected. What was it about this woman? He quickly shifted his focus so his body would not betray him. At the end of the session, he was flocked by conference goers with a ton of questions. He looked for her, but she had disappeared.

  Jayne was uncomfortable with the intensity of the connection she was feeling with the good doctor. Maybe she was responding to his artistic ability. It was a foolhardy assessment. The woman in her was responding to the man in him. She shook it off and headed to her room to change for the Cosplay event at 6 pm.

  Jayne was planning to debut her costume as Pirotess, from Record of Lodoss War. Uncertainty was ringing through her mind as she wondered if anyone would know who she was or even get the character. It was all she had, so she was going to go with it. Earlier, she felt a great deal of confidence. Now she was uncertain. Three weeks had been spent creating the costume, ensuring that every minute detail had been covered, even working her body out extra hard. Threads, stitches, and fabric choice were all very important when designing a costume. Even more important was the flow of material when on the body. It was these details that she hoped would give her a placing in the show. She checked her hair, her makeup, and adjusted the girls in the suit.

  The time had flown by and it was time to head downstairs.

  Entering the elevator, there were several Lolita’s, Dragon Ball Z characters along with other sub characters from Sailor Moon. The show stopper was the Silver Samurai in the lobby. The detail of the costume was bordering on amazing as many walked up to him to touch the leather and fabricated pieces. As Jayne walked by him, he drew his sword, placing it in front of her to block her path. She could not see his face, but immediately knew it was the jerk from last night who was dressed as Gambit. A quick shove with her hand and she pushed the sword aside and made her way to the judging stage. The costumes had been judged earlier yesterday, so tonight was just a formality.

  One by one the characters filed on stage, role-playing in the costumes and showing off their handy work. The Silver Samurai was a skilled martial artist and swordsman. The audience oohed and ahhed as he maneuvered from posing to performing high flying kicks for two and a half minutes. Jayne felt sexy as Pirotess when she climbed on stage. She posed and showed a bit of skin as she sauntered across the platform.

  The waiting was brief since many of the costumes had already been judged. Three of the Dragon Ball Z characters had placed with honorable mentions. An online comic series had received third place for one of the characters, which received a great audience response. Jayne was excited when she was awarded second place. The Silver Samurai received first place. Standing close to him, she understood
why. He looked really good in the costume with his muscles bulging through the taut leather, his shiny black hair hanging from under the helmet, and those intense eyes gazing through the eye slots.

  The winners were all lined up on stage for a quick photo op and then the group began to disperse. The samurai touched her arm beckoning her to follow him. She trailed him into a corner and he removed his helmet. Jayne’s eyes were wide when she realized Gambit, the Silver Samurai, and Dr. Toshi Yamaguchi was the same person!

  Toshi asked her, “What are your plans for tonight?”

  “I plan to go to the party and have a drink or two,” she told him waiting to see if he would ask her to dinner.

  “I am heading to my room.” He turned and began to walk away. “Come with me.” It was said with such matter-of-factness that Jayne stood there blinking after him. He looked back to see why she was not walking along with him. He extended to her his hand in a quieter request.

  “What am I going to do in your room?”

  Toshi’s eyebrows went up, “I was hoping... me.”

  She couldn’t believe it. “You know you said that out loud?”

  Toshi moved closer to her. “Would it have more impact if I whispered it instead?”

  Jayne was disgusted with him. All of her admiration for his talent had flown out the window. She tried to step around him, but he extended his hand to stop her. “There is something about you that stirs my blood. I want to be with you. I am being honest by telling you what I want.”

  “It seems like you would want to know my name first, Professor. And you know what...?” she paused with her hand on her hip. “I was wrong about you. You are not an asshole, you are a fucking asshole.”

  Toshi moved so quickly Jayne was startled. He stood toe to toe with her. His breath, caressing her cheek as he leaned into her ear. “Pirotess, Bling, or whatever you want to be called, you are amazing. You are a talented artist and you are making me crazy, but I understand. There have been so many men that have lied to you. The truth is hard for you to accept.”