by Jen Wilde
She steps back and calls out, “Who traveled the farthest to be here today?”
A flurry of answers are shouted.
“Omaha!”
“New York!”
“Toronto!”
And then the girl next to me takes my hand and lifts it up, pointing to me. “She’s from Australia!”
Twenty Queen Firestones turn to look at me, and my breath gets caught in my throat.
The reporter pushes her way over to me, waving at the cameraman to follow.
I suck in a slow, deep breath and pray that I don’t make an idiot of myself. I catch a glimpse of Jamie standing in the aisle, snapping photos of the whole scene. He lowers his camera, his jaw hanging open. But he’s smiling.
Seeing his excitement strengthens my resolve, and I straighten my shoulders and smile.
“Hello there!” the cheery, red-haired reporter says with a sweet tone. “What’s your name?”
It takes me a second or two to remember. “Taylor.”
“And Taylor, how far did you travel to be at SupaCon today?”
“I came all the way from Melbourne, Australia.”
I don’t know if I’m meant to be looking at her or the camera, so I end up darting my eyes back and forth comically.
“Wow!” she says, like she’s hearing it for the first time. “How long is that flight?”
“Um. I think it was about fourteen hours. We pretty much came straight here from the airport.” I grin, pleased with myself for stringing multiple sentences together.
She turns to the camera. “Now that’s commitment! What a hard-core fan!”
And then she hurries away as fast as she came, leaving all of us buzzing in her wake.
Our group begins to disperse, all the cosplayers going their separate ways with excited waves.
I walk straight up to Jamie, a huge smile on my face. “Did you see that?” I slap him playfully on the shoulder.
“I did!” he says with a crooked grin. “You’re famous now! Better tell Charlie to watch out.”
I laugh giddily. I feel another tap on my shoulder and turn to see that same Queen Firestone cosplayer smiling at me again.
“I’m Brianna, by the way.” She adjusts the strap on her tank top. I notice she’s showing less cleavage than I am and wonder if my top is too revealing. I decide it probably isn’t, but hitch it up self-consciously anyway.
She sticks her hand out, and I shake it, hoping mine isn’t too sweaty from on-air nerves. “I’m Taylor.”
“Are you entering the SupaFan Contest?”
I scrunch up my nose. “Nah.”
Her eyes widen. “Why not? You came all this way!” She taps my arm. “You should make the most of it! First prize is dinner with Skyler!”
“That’s true,” I say, smoothing out my coat. “Maybe I will enter.”
“Great!”
One of the other girls starts calling her name. “I’ll see you there!”
I wave as she disappears into a nearby aisle. Jamie looks at me, smiling smugly. “So you are going to enter the contest?”
I wave my hand dismissively. “Of course not.”
He cocks his head to the side. “But you just said—”
“I know what I said.”
He furrows his brow. “I don’t get it.”
I shrug. “I couldn’t tell her why I don’t want to do it. It sounds stupid.”
“Being scared isn’t stupid. It’s normal.”
I start walking and he follows.
“It’s just that I know exactly how that conversation would have gone,” I say. “I would have told her I’m too afraid to enter. She would have asked what I’m afraid of. I would have had to bring up the whole social anxiety thing, and she would have either encouraged me to enter anyway, completely disregarding my terror, or she would have nodded and excused herself.”
He laughs and looks away. “You don’t know that. She could have understood.”
“History and experience have proven to me that it’s very hard for people to understand, and all too easy for them to judge.”
He shakes his head like he’s disappointed. “But how will you know how people will react if you don’t open up to them in the first place?”
I glance at him, confused. “Are you mad at me?”
His head snaps back in surprise. “No! Why would I be mad at you?”
I shrug my arms into the air. “I dunno! That’s why I asked.”
He laughs, but when he speaks, his voice is serious. “I could never get mad at you.”
“Good, because I hate when people are mad.” We wander around the busy floor, and I still feel slightly uneasy, so I try to lighten the mood. “I’m on such a high right now.”
Jamie tsks and waggles a finger at me. “Now, Taylor, you’re supposed to just say no.”
I roll my eyes and elbow him in the side. “A natural high, idiot.”
“Ow!” He pouts, rubbing his ribs.
He winks at me, and I poke my tongue out at him.
“Hey, Flirty McFlirtersons!” a voice shouts over the crowd, and I don’t need to look up to know it’s Charlie.
She struts toward us with a bright grin. A few heads turn as she walks by, escorted by Mandy and a SupaCon staff member. People recognize her and try to snap a sneaky photo.
“Hey!” I say.
“You know,” she says when she’s closer, “if you two were a couple, you’d fully be the superannoying type that call each other ‘pookie’ and walk around with your hands in each other’s back pockets.”
I give her a look that says “shut up!” and she winks at me mischievously. I feel like my whole body is blushing. Like all the blood is pressed against my skin, lighting me up like Kylo Ren’s lightsaber. If there was one thing I could change about myself, it would be the blushing. It’s my own personal awkwardness meter, and it’s constantly going off, telling everyone exactly how I’m feeling no matter how much I want to hide it.
Jamie hides his hands in his pockets, and I think I see a hint of pink in his cheeks, too. “Where are you going?”
She starts moving again. She’s being hurried through the hall by her little posse. “The Rising cosplay contest.” She turns around and starts walking backward. “You guys coming, or what?”
“What about the VIP stuff?” I ask.
“No passes required for this! Come on!”
Jamie and I light up like little kids on Christmas and run after her excitedly.
CHAPTER 8
CHARLIE
The crowd cheers as the winners of The Rising cosplay contest are announced. The floor vibrates beneath me from the applause.
“This is gonna be intense,” Reese says.
I nod. “It’s gonna be awesome.”
A girl in a SupaCon shirt and a headset runs over to us. “Ready?”
“Yep.”
Two other staff members are on either side, hands holding the edge of the tall paper wall in front of us, preparing to wheel it onto the stage.
The host speaks into the microphone, chatting to the winners excitedly. “Now, for the winners of The Rising cosplay contest, we have a special surprise for you!”
That’s our cue. The set is pushed forward, and Reese and I walk behind it, hiding until we reach our mark.
Gasps echo through the crowd as they all wonder what the surprise could be. We reach the mark, get our smiles ready, and burst through the paper. The screams are deafening. I hate that I don’t know if they’re cheering for me or for “Chase.” The host welcomes us while the two winners jump back and cover their mouths in shock. I see instantly why they won. It’s like I’m staring into a mirror, seeing Ava and Will (me and Reese) exactly as we appeared on-screen, complete with torn jeans, dirt stains, and blood spatter. The only difference being that these two are both girls.
“You two look perfect!” I say, but they’re still freaking out too much to comprehend what I’m saying. I try again. “I can tell you worked hard on your cosplay.”
<
br /> “Th-thanks!” the girl dressed as Will sputters. “We’ve seen The Rising three times already!”
Reese walks to the edge of the stage, waving to the crowd and blowing kisses like he’s strutting down a catwalk. The girl dressed as Ava takes a step closer, and I notice tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Oh, sweetie!” I put an arm around her. “Are you okay?”
“I love you!”
“I love you!”
She wipes her cheeks and giggles uncontrollably. I can’t help but giggle with her. I live for moments like these. Reese turns around to congratulate the winners, raising his eyebrows when he sees his role being played by a girl.
“You’re a girl!” he says, pointing at her.
She laughs awkwardly and nods. “Yeah! It’s a gender swap.”
He considers her for a moment, and I pray he doesn’t say anything sexist or demeaning. Even for him, that would be a new low.
He gives her a half smile and shrugs. “Cool!”
He hugs her, and she grins so wide I think she might burst. We spend the next thirty minutes posing for photos with the winners and the fans. To my relief, only three people ask if Reese and I are back together. But in my mind, that’s still three too many.
When it’s time to say good-bye and go backstage, I’m excited to spend a little time with my friends.
“Charlie!” Tay says when I hug her from behind. “How’d you do? Were they surprised?”
“Shocked.”
Jamie gives me a hug. “We could hear them cheering for you. So cool!”
“I think they were just excited to see Chase reunited,” I say sarcastically.
Tay furrows her brow. “Don’t say that. They love you, not Chase.”
I nod. “I’m so sorry you didn’t get to meet Skyler, Tay.” She had sent me a devastated text about it earlier, but I didn’t have a chance to talk to her about it until now.
She sighs. “It’s okay. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be.”
Jamie nudges her playfully, but he’s frowning like seeing her upset causes him physical pain. “You will meet her one day, Tay. I promise.”
She lifts one side of her mouth into a sad smile and nudges him back. Then her head snaps up, and she looks at me with wide eyes. “How was lunch with your dream girl?”
I don’t even try to hide my smitten grin. “It was amazing.”
Tay giggles. “Are you swooning?” She looks up at Jamie, pointing at me. “Is she swooning?”
He nods. “She’s swooning.”
I shake my head, but it doesn’t shake the smile off my face. “I am not swooning. I do not swoon.”
Tay and Jamie glance at each other, then back at me, and both say, “Swooning.”
Tay grabs my hands. “Did you ask her out?”
“No.” I feel a little embarrassed when I say it.
Jamie cocks his head, confused. “Why not? You’ve liked her for so long.”
My heart skips a beat, and I suck in a quick breath. “I have. I do like her. A lot. But I was scared, and I didn’t know if she likes me as a friend or something more. It’s so confusing!” I push a strand of hair behind my ear. “But, we did make plans to do a collab together for my channel. We swapped numbers.”
Taylor grins. “Yes! That’s so great, Charlie!”
I shrug. “It’s not a date, though.”
Jamie puts a hand on my shoulder. “But it could lead to one, if that’s what you want.”
Tay nods. “Exactly. After everything you’ve been through, this is a big step. You’ve got to move on at your own pace.”
I glance over at Reese, who’s downing a beer. “It would be easier to do that if he wasn’t here. How am I ever going to set myself apart from him like this?”
“I think you’re giving him too much credit,” Jamie says, concern written all over his face.
“I just feel like I’m stuck with him. The more we’re seen together doing all this press, the harder it makes it for the media and the fans to just see me.”
Tay’s eyebrows pinch together. “Who cares what they see. It only matters what you see.”
“Whoa,” Jamie says. “That’s deep. Like, Yoda level.”
Tay blushes and we laugh.
“Since when do you care what anyone else thinks?” Jamie asks, folding his arms and tilting his head to the side.
I throw my head back and let out a dramatic sigh. “I know, I know. This isn’t like me. What’s wrong with me?”
“Hey,” Tay says, her voice low and serious. “Nothing is wrong with you. You’ve just gotten over a superintense, very public breakup. Anyone would have a little self-doubt after that.”
I hear Reese’s obnoxious laugh from the other side of the room and wince. His very presence is digging into me like a giant, egotistical, blond splinter.
“I just want him out of my life.”
Tay sticks her bottom lip out into a sincere frown. “After SupaCon, that’s it. You don’t have any more events or commitments with him.”
“But I’ll still have Chase. People will still be tweeting me, telling me to get back together with him. Fandom blogs will mention the breakup, the humiliation, every time they write a post about me. It’s never gonna go away.”
Tay and Jamie exchange worried glances, and I feel pathetic.
“Charlie, it will go away,” Jamie says.
Tay puts her hands on my shoulders and looks me deep in the eyes. “It will.”
CHAPTER 9
TAYLOR
QUEENOFFIRESTONE:
You guys!
Thanks so much for all your messages. I’ll try to get to them all later, but for now I just wanted to say thanks. I’m fine. I just had a moment. But I’m good now.
Guess what? I was on TV!
And I met a bunch of other QF cosplayers! I’m having a blast:D
I’ll post more later, but right now I’ve gotta go.
Tay xo
“You want a drink?” Jamie asks. We’re standing in the corner by the food, surveying the party.
“Yeah, thanks.”
Jamie heads toward the bar to get us a couple of Cokes, and I scan the small gathering of people. I’d expected to see more familiar faces, like cast members from The Rising or some of the many celebrity guests gracing SupaCon this year. But it’s mostly full of studio execs and other important people of the nonfamous variety.
In other words, it’s boring as hell.
Charlie is making her rounds, chatting with everyone. We had a few minutes to chat before she was pulled away to schmooze the suits. The whole room is revolving around her, like every single person is stuck in her orbit. It’s quite a sight to see, one that makes me beam with pride.
After the struggle she’s been through the past six months, she deserves this. I think she’s slowly going back to her normal, confident self.
When we walk into a room, Charlie’s the one everyone looks at. She’s what people usually refer to as pear-shaped, I guess. Or is it hourglass? All these words people have for describing bodies seem a bit much to me. Whatever Charlie’s shape is, it seems to be more socially acceptable than mine, judging by how people talk about her. People are always telling her she should be a model. But sometimes she gets a bit tired of people only seeing her for the way she looks.
Out the corner of my eye, I spot someone walking toward me and turn to see Reese. I groan internally, but give him a wave as he approaches. “Hi, Reese.”
He raises his beer as a greeting. “Hey.” He looks me up and down, and I feel exposed. “What are you wearing?”
I fold my arms over my chest self-consciously. “I’m cosplaying. Queen Firestone.”
He pinches his mouth to the side, studying me. “All right,” he says, as though I needed his approval.
I breathe out a quiet laugh.
He takes a swig of his beer. It occurs to me that he’s only nineteen, and I consider pointing out that the legal drinking age here is twenty-one, not eighteen like it is back home. B
ut I don’t want to sound like a Goody Two-shoes, so I keep quiet.
“So, how’s school?” He asks this with an air of cockiness, and I’m not sure why.
“Good.”
He looks around the room as if searching for someone more interesting to talk to, then seems to decide to give this conversation another try. I wish he wouldn’t. I wish he could see that I’m the one stuck here talking to him, not the other way around.
“You think you’ll get into uni?”
“Yeah,” I say, then I think that might sound too boastful and add, “I mean, I hope so. I’ve applied to heaps of schools. I want to get into a creative writing course. Or screenwriting. Or both.” I don’t tell him that I applied to UCLA and other US colleges, because I don’t trust him to be encouraging and I’m anxious enough about my chances of getting in already.
He struggles to swallow his drink, like I just said something hilarious and he’s trying not to spit beer all over me. “You wanna be in movies?”
I shake my head profusely. “Not in movies. I’d like to write them. And books. I really want to write books.”
Not that I’ve really thought about uni that much. I’ve tried thinking about it, planning for it, but every time I do I get a sick feeling in my stomach. But I have enough self-awareness to know that if I’m going to put myself through the stress and anxiety of going to class every day, it will need to be a class on something I care about. And there’s nothing I’m more passionate about than books, movies, and storytelling.
“That’s adorable.”
I narrow my gaze. “Why?”
“Well, you’re not in the business so I don’t expect you to know why it’s cute, but it is. You know you’ll have to sleep your way to the top, right?”
“Um, sorry?”
He leans in, and I can smell beer on his breath. “How do you think Charlie got where she is?” He points at himself, arrogance practically oozing out of his pores.
I step back, glaring at him. “I know how Charlie got to be where she is. Through hard work and creativity and persistence and skill. It had nothing to do with you. In fact, dating you probably hindered her more than helped her.”
I can’t believe I said that. My gaze drops to the floor.
“Jeez,” he says. “Someone can’t take a joke. If you’re gonna make it in Hollywood, you’ll need to be less of a bitch.”