Chapter 4
“This is crazy. You’re crazy.”
Xander and I were camped outside the exhibit hall next to a food cart. I’d convinced him to walk the convention floor with me since his makeup job was comparable to wearing a mask, but he was still nervous about being recognized.
“That’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?” I said, inching away from the food. The freshly baked soft pretzels were making my stomach growl, a reminder that I hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
“Indie, you don’t understand. If somebody realizes—”
“Nobody will know it’s you, I promise.” Xander’s own mother wouldn’t recognize him if she were standing directly in front of us.
“You can’t guarantee that.”
“Okay, you’re right, but when’s the next time you’ll get an opportunity like this? How often do you get to be just another alien in the crowd?”
Xander hesitated, his eyes cutting toward the doors of the exhibit floor.
He considered my question for so long that my smile slipped.
Any second now, he’d insist we head back upstairs to the green room.
Worst case scenario, I could go without him.
I didn’t want to, but Violet’s career quickly taught me to be okay with doing things on my own.
Luckily for me, Xander caved. His eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment as he released a long sigh. “Oh, what the hell. Let’s do this.”
“Yes!” Bouncing forward, I clamped my fingers around Xander’s wrist in case he had any lingering thoughts of backing out and dragged him across the lobby. Whether he liked it or not, the two of us were going to have a full Comic Con experience.
“I still think this is a bad idea,” he said as we wove our way through the crowd.
“I’ll take those chances,” I replied, casting a smile over my shoulder.
“Easy for you to say,” he muttered but let the subject drop.
When we reached the entryway, I freed Xander’s wrist and stepped inside.
I was immediately barraged with an array of senses.
An explosion of color hit me first—rows upon rows of booths that sold all sorts of paraphernalia and stretched in every direction.
The one closest to us displayed tubs of plushies ranging from Hello Kitty to No-Face from Spirited Away.
Next to it, there was a booth that only carried superhero bathrobes.
People all around us were talking and laughing, but I couldn’t hear anything specific.
The sounds slipped over my ears, unfiltered and blaring.
Overhead, the fluorescent lights seemed to glare directly into my eyes.
I froze in the middle of traffic. People streamed past us on either side, like river water rerouted by a boulder.
Xander’s fingers flittered against the small of my back, guiding me out of the way. “Hey, you okay?”
His touch jolted me out of the moment. “Yeah, fine,” I said, blinking and pushing my bangs from my face. “Just a bit of sensory overload. This…this is nuts.”
“Overwhelming, isn’t it?”
“Understatement of the year.” I scanned our surroundings.
We’d entered near the Lucasfilm booth, and directly in front of us were display cases filled with costumes from the Star Wars movies.
A group of kids had their hands pressed against the glass of the nearest case, gawking over Boba Fett’s helmet. “So…what do you want to see first?”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “This is all you, remember?”
“All right, I have an idea. Follow me.” Turning left, I headed to the far end of the hall. With the Saturday crowds, it took a few minutes to actually cross the entirety of the room. Halfway there, a man with a microphone and camera crew cut us off.
“Awesome cosplay,” he said, thrusting the microphone in Xander’s face. “I’m Gary with Everything Geek, and I was wondering if you can tell our viewers who you’re supposed to be?”
I felt Xander go rigid, so I stepped in front of him and shot Gary a look. “He’s an Oken warrior from planet Urc Qlevaz, obviously. Haven’t you seen the Galaxy Rider films? How can you work for Everything Geek and not know that?”
Gary snapped his fingers and pointed at me as if I’d reminded him of a long forgotten movie he’d seen as a kid.
“Of course! I knew I recognized the look. Okens are so distinct. Anyway, Everything Geek is hosting a cosplay contest later tonight.” He shoved an orange flyer into my hands. “You guys should check it out.”
A grin slowly stretched across Xander’s face as he realized Gary had zero clue who he was. “Yeah, we’ll think about it. I’m sure all the G-riders will be impressed,” he said, playing along.
“You bet,” Gary replied with an enthusiastic nod. A woman dressed as Daenerys Targaryen strolled by us, and when his eyes locked onto her, we were quickly forgotten.
“All the G-riders will be impressed?” I mimicked once Gary was out of earshot. “G-riders, seriously?”
Xander shrugged. “What? You try making up a fandom name on the spot.”
I crossed my arms. “I created a franchise complete with its own alien race and planet.”
“Good point,” he said, nodding in agreement. “I wish I could see his face when he realizes Galaxy Rider isn’t real. I bet they’ll cut me from the final edit so they don’t look like morons.”
“Oh, darn. There goes your five minutes of fame.”
We exchanged looks, and a single second of silence passed before we dissolved into a fit of laughter. It took a solid minute, but once our breathing was back under control, we finished our trek across the massive hall, and Artist Alley came into view.
“Good place to start?” I asked when Xander realized where I was taking him.
He nodded. “The perfect place. Let’s go find a commission.”
“A what?”
“I want an artist to do a commissioned sketch of me. Nothing fancy. Just something to remember all this by,” he said, pointing at his face.
We spent the next thirty minutes roaming through the aisles of artists, trying to find someone with a style Xander liked.
We’d seen nearly everyone’s work when I noticed a girl at an empty table.
Her chin was propped in her hands, and she had a long look on her face.
The artist at the table next to her had a line of customers snaking around the corner to the next aisle.
“Do you know who that is?” I nodded to the man whose table was getting all the traffic. The banner stand behind him read BLUE HOOD GRAPHICS.
Xander shook his head. “Must be a big deal comic book artist. Most of them rent booths, but sometimes they opt for a table in Artist Alley because there’s fewer regulations on what they can sell.”
“Whoever he is, his line is blocking the poor girl next to him,” I said, pointing her out. “I don’t think she’s getting any business.”
As if he knew what I was thinking, Xander asked, “Should we go change that?”
I smiled. “My thoughts exactly.”
The girl, who was probably in her early twenties, held still expectantly when she noticed us approaching. She had black hair that was pulled into a ballerina bun, round glasses, and lips painted bright red. The sign hanging off the front of her table read ASHLEY RIDDLE.
“Hey,” Ashley said, sitting up straight when we stopped in front of her. “How’s your con going?”
“Pretty good,” Xander answered, already paging through her portfolio. “Yours?”
“As good as can be expected. This is my first time.” It was impossible to miss the longing in Ashley’s eyes when her gaze momentarily flicked over to Blue Hood Graphics. “Cool mask, by the way.”
“It’s actually prosthetic makeup.” Xander jerked his thumb at me. “This one here did it. She’s pretty talented.”
Her attention shifted to me. “Wow, that’s incredible!”
Heat pooled in my cheeks. “I had a lot of help, but thanks. These are fire too,” I said, nodding at the prints displayed behind her.
“Thank you!”
“Do you have time for a commission?” Xander asked, even though the sign-up sheet in front of her was empty. “I don’t need anything elaborate. Just a quick sketch.”
She beamed. “Yes, of course! My prices are listed here.”
We both glanced down at the sign she pointed to.
Headshot, pencil, 7” x 10”: $30
Headshot, inked, 7” x 10”: $50
Headshot, color, 7” x 10”: $70
Half figure, inked, 9” x 12”: $100
Half figure, color, 9” x 12”: $130
“How about a half figure, inked?” Xander said after considering the list.
“Awesome choice.” Ashley pulled out a drawing board. “Do you have a specific character in mind?”
“He wants a mashup of an Oken warrior from Galaxy Rider and the lead guitarist from the Heartbreakers. What’s his name again? Xavier something?” I rubbed my chin, pretending to rack my brain. “He’s the one with the glasses.”
“You mean Xander Jones?” Ashley supplied.
I snapped my fingers and pointed at her. “Yeah, him!”
Her eyebrows squished together. “Um, okay, but I’m not sure what an Oken warrior is. Do you have a reference picture?”
Xander glared at me before turning back to Ashley. “Just ignore her. She’s being a smart-ass. I want a sketch of myself.”
“Because he’s conceited like that,” I added.
This time, Xander jabbed an elbow into my ribs to shut me up, and I stifled a giggle.
“Don’t worry. Lots of people request sketches of themselves,” she said, waving a hand to dismiss my comment. “Will you be paying cash or credit?”
“Cash,” Xander replied, presumably because he didn’t want her to see the name on his credit card. He extracted a wallet from his jeans and pulled out two crisp fifties.
Once she received the payment, Ashley took a picture of Xander to work from and told us the commission would be done by the end of the day, so we wandered out of Artist Alley and into the Funko toy section.
I bought a Jack Skellington key chain, which I promptly attached to my bag, and a Pop!
Vinyl Thor for Sofia, since she was obsessed with all things Chris Hemsworth.