Chapter 12
“What do you love most about playing these characters?” a young woman with long blue hair and pointy prosthetic ears asks the panel.
We made it to FableCon. It’s been a long couple of days of stress and prep, but we survived. Barely. As a fan of the show, this whole thing has been incredible to see. As someone helping one of the major stars navigate her way through this after a breakup and a PR war . . . it’s complicated.
The fans are . . . fanning. Costumes everywhere. Some basic, most over the top. Someone made buttons that said “K+E=F” (Kaelric plus Elora equals forever), and I took one for Sam. Okay, and I took one for myself too. I had to. The tops of the K had little pointed ears on them. That’s adorable.
“That’s a fantastic question,” the moderator, Ben Clayton, says. He’s an entertainment influencer with a huge following, and he deals mostly with news and not gossip. Perfect for what we need here.
He looks over at Declan Marshall, the incredibly handsome man that plays Thalen Vireth, Kaelric’s younger brother. “Wanna take this one?”
“Absolutely,” Declan starts.
I’m standing in the back area of the makeshift stage, watching the whole thing from the side, Luke next to me.
I’m feeling a mixture of things right now, but exhaustion is at the top.
My eyelids actually feel heavy. And yet, I’m hopped up on all kinds of caffeine. So it’s, like, an antsy kind of tired.
“You still do that?” Luke says, leaning in, his breath on my ear, which sends little pinpricks of sensation down my neck.
I take a tiny step away from him.
“Do what?” I ask him, confused. I’m in a black pantsuit, and he’s wearing black trousers and a jacket, and we look like a pair of bodyguards standing here.
“Chew on your thumbnail when you’re nervous,” he says, a smirk on his face.
I pull my hand away from my mouth. “I don’t do that,” I say, annoyed that he remembered.
“Don’t be nervous, Archie,” he says. “It’s going great.”
He tips his chin toward the panel sitting in front of over four thousand people. Fans who slept on the floor last night just to get a seat. And that’s not counting the livestream audience that Tessa is monitoring from the office.
So yes, I’m nervous. But it’s not about the crowd, though I’m grateful I’m not the one sitting up there; it’s the fact that the studio wanted River and Bailey sitting front and center together.
I’d made sure they would be on opposite ends of the table so there would be no accidental touching, no sidelong glances for fans to turn into a compilation video. The studio had other ideas.
When I coached Bailey yesterday, we didn’t cover this scenario because it wasn’t supposed to happen.
Instead, we focused on how to be around River and be warm without being romantic.
Making eye contact when he speaks, laughing at something he says even if it’s not that funny.
No crossing your arms, no looking at the floor.
We were going for friendly and professional. Nothing for the fans to read into.
But now they’re sitting side by side, barely any space between them. Five cast members plus the moderator. There will be a million fan edits by tomorrow. I know it.
So far, Bailey’s handling things well and doing everything just as we practiced. She even laughed at something River said, and it sounded authentic.
“Next question,” Ben says.
A woman in a purple wig with a crown atop her head, wearing a black cape, approaches the microphone.
“This question is for Bailey,” she says, and I start biting my thumbnail again, at which Luke gives me a little smirk. I ignore him and continue my nervous habit.
“Sure,” Bailey says, smiling at the woman.
“So, I was wondering what inspiration you used when taking on the role of Elora,” she says.
“I love this one,” Bailey says, a genuine smile on her face.
I let out a heavy breath. Having an open forum like this without preapproved questions made this whole thing so tricky.
But Bailey knows the drill: reconciliation questions are directed back to talking about the show, personal questions deflect to Elora, and anything about River specifically goes back to his talent as an actor.
So far, all the questions have focused on the show. Thank goodness.
I watch River as she talks about her inspirations for Elora. He’s looking at her intently, no fidgeting, no scanning the crowd or adjusting in his seat. He’s focused solely on her.
“River is holding his own,” I say to Luke. It’s meant to be a compliment, since I’m sure he’s been coaching his client.
Luke shakes his head. “That’s just River,” he says.
I scrunch my face at him. Is he downplaying his skills? Because I saw River when we ran into him at the gala. He didn’t look poised or composed. Sure, he hid his feelings better than Bailey did, but he was clearly affected.
The man sitting up on that panel now looks totally at ease.
Luke just shrugs, not taking any credit. Which isn’t like him.
As the Q jinxing isn’t that far of a stretch.
The next person to ask a question is a tiny woman with a pixie haircut, dressed in a full-body dragon costume. Purple iridescent scales cover every inch of her, a swishing tail dragging on the floor behind her. It’s the character Soryn from the Eclipse court.
“Hi,” she says, the sound echoing through the room. “Yeah, so I think most of us here would like to know if the reconciliation rumors are true. Are you getting back together or what?” She points toward Bailey and River.
The room goes silent for a beat, the question landing like a dropped mic. Then someone whoops, and the crowd erupts into clapping and cheering.
I give Luke wide eyes because he actually did jinx us.
“Okay! Okay!” yells the moderator over the noise. “How about another question?” He points to the other side of the room where there’s another line of attendees behind a second mic.
“Come on,” the woman dressed as Soryn says. “Just tell us yes or no.”
The moderator turns to Bailey and River with an it’s up to you shrug, which was not what he was directed to do. He’s supposed to ignore all relationship questions.
Bailey looks for me offstage, and I give her a slow nod. She knows what to do here. We practiced for this. Even if I was hoping we’d never have to actually use it.
“Um, th-thank you for that question,” she says, clearly rattled. “I think I can speak for both River and myself when I say that we are excited to work together again and bring you Kaelric and Elora.”
I give her a thumbs-up because that was perfect.
However, the fans don’t agree; some of them start booing.
Well, we did not practice for that.
“Hey now,” Ben the moderator says. “No booing.”
River holds up a hand, and the crowd quiets. “I think what Bailey is saying here is”—he leans toward the mic, a mischievous smile on his face—“never say never.”
My eyes widen as the fandom goes wild over that comment. I look to Luke, and he shakes his head, looking as blindsided as I feel.
Bailey’s eyes are locked on River, her jaw slack as she watches him smile at the crowd, pleased with himself.
He turns toward her, leans in, and whispers something in her ear. She shakes her head at him, looking appalled by whatever he just said, and then, getting up from her chair, hurries down the side stairs, brushing past me and Luke without a word.
“Bailey,” I call out before going after her.
By the time I catch up to her in the greenroom, I can hear Ben trying to calm the crowd again.
I shoot off a text to Luke.
Me: Make something up to stall
I’ve got to get Bailey back on that stage or the internet will go wild with all kinds of posts and breakdowns. They might either way, but “Bailey Lockhart storms off FableCon panel” will not be the headline on my watch. Hopefully.
I tuck my phone into the pocket of my jacket before shutting the door.
Bailey is pacing in the middle of the room, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“No,” she says on a sob.
“What did he say to you?”
“He wanted me to play it up for the crowd,” she says.
I let out a relieved breath. I assumed it was much worse.
“Was it stupid to walk off like that?” she asks. “I just can’t believe he’d want me to play it up after all he’s put me through.”
“I understand why you’re upset,” I tell her. “You’ve taken the high road, and he hasn’t. But I think you need to get back out there.”
She pinches her brow. “I can’t go back out there.”
I walk over to her, placing a hand gently on her arm. “If you don’t, walking out of the panel halfway through questions will be all anyone remembers about this.”
She closes her eyes as if considering that for the first time.
“The only way to change that is to go back out there, sit down, and give the crowd something else to focus on.”
She’s nodding now. “Right. Right. Sorry,” she says. “I was caught up in the moment.”
“It’s fine,” I tell her, even though it’s not all that fine. As it stands, this will still be analyzed by fans. Her storming off will probably be a GIF by morning.
But I can’t tell her that or let her focus on it. Right now, she needs to get back to the panel.
She takes a few seconds to compose herself, and then we walk back toward the stage.
Luke is standing in the same spot I left him. Onstage, one of the cast members—Zara Ellis, the actress that plays Kaelric and Thalen’s younger sister—is answering a question.
“What did you say?” I ask Luke after guiding Bailey to the stairs.
“I told the moderator that she needed a minute,” he says. “He told the room she’d be right back and then pivoted to the others.”
“Thank you,” I say as Bailey takes her seat and Ben welcomes her back to the stage.
We just might have pulled that off.
However, Bailey now looks rigid in her seat, purposefully not looking at River and leaning away from him, toward Zara sitting next to her. All our hard work out the door.
But questions go back to being about the show, and the crowd seems to be okay with that.
Someone asks the man who plays the villain—Fletcher Hale—if he enjoys playing the bad guy.
He’s an incredible actor and plays the part of Malachar so well that he’s the most hated man on the show, which is evident by the lack of questions coming his way.
The next question is for Declan, and then another one for Zara. Then a woman dressed up as a sylph—an air spirit—with golden hair pulled into a thick braid that hangs over her shoulder, and wearing layers of flowing sheer fabric, approaches the microphone.
“Greetings, Sunbeams,” she starts, using the nickname fans of the Sun court have given themselves. People cheer.
“FableCon is weird,” Luke says to me.
“Yeah, totally,” I say.
I won’t tell him that under other circumstances I might have come here as a fan, and last week Sam bought us prosthetic pointy ears to wear while we did our rewatch. Which we did, with pride.
“This is for Bailey and River,” the sylph lady says.
Luke and I look at each other, and he gives me a tentative-looking smile. I give him one back that says Please let this just be a normal question and nothing about their relationship. I think he understood.
“You’ve given us three seasons of buildup. I think we all would like to know how you plan to give us a believable love story with all that’s gone on between the two of you.”
Hold on a second . . .
People are cheering again, and Ben is scrambling to take control.
But I know that voice. That grating, nasal voice.
“It’s You Oughta Know,” I say to Luke, grabbing him by the arm. She’s wearing a wig, but I should have recognized her pointy nose right away.
“The influencer?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say.
“I think the fans deserve to know how this is going to work,” she says into the microphone. Her voice is even harsher sounding in person.
“You’re going to ruin this show,” the person on the other mic adds.
“This is bad,” Luke says, and all I can do is nod in response.
People are yelling questions now. A group of fans dressed as people from the Eclipse court—all in black, their faces painted with glittery gold—start chanting, “Save the show! Save the show!”
I signal to Ben to shut this thing down, drawing my hand across my throat rapidly, and, luckily, he spots me after a few tries.
“Okay, thanks for coming, everyone,” Ben says, but he can barely be heard over the yelling.
The cast gets up from their seats, and River turns toward Bailey, catching her mid-step, and I watch in horror as he wraps his arms around her before she has a chance to react.
“What’s he doing?” I ask Luke. We’re both staring at the scene, watching it unfold like a slow-motion car crash.
I can’t tell if River is trying to save face for the fans or just can’t help himself. Bailey doesn’t pull away, but she doesn’t hug him back either. Her arms just hang there, suspended, while he holds on.
“Oh no,” I say, watching as hundreds of phones are out now, recording this entire encounter.
“We need to get them out of there,” I yell to Luke above the chaos.
The fan outcry alone was going to go viral, but this sad attempt at a hug is going to be the star of the internet for weeks.
Thankfully, River and Bailey awkwardly rush to their separate greenrooms after that, the fans still chanting as they leave the hall.
Luke and I are both just standing there, shell shocked.
“Well, that went well,” Luke deadpans.
I can’t help myself; a laugh bursts out of me at the ridiculousness of the situation. This absolutely isn’t funny, and yet . . .
Luke watches me for a second, probably trying to figure out whether I’m crying or laughing. I’m doubled over, unable to breathe, and tears are streaming down my face.
But then he joins me, which makes things so much worse. My stomach hurts; my cheeks ache. We’re both cry laughing now, when truthfully things are pretty dire.
“What are we going to do?” I ask once I pull myself somewhat together, the words coming out choppy.
Luke shakes his head, wiping at the corners of his eyes. “I have no idea.”
We start laughing again, even though everything we’ve carefully planned for today just exploded. It’s unprofessional, but in this moment, I can’t bring myself to care.