Chapter 10 Florida Supercon
Florida Supercon
They were the hot new act on the convention circuit, and Florida Supercon rolled out the red carpet accordingly.
When AJ arrived at the Miami Airport Convention Center roughly an hour before their panel, a staff member was waiting to greet her.
“Ms. Graves,” he said, escorting her into a labyrinth of industrial corridors away from the crowd.
Noah’s presence had elevated the Into the Blue events to the point of a sensation. Rarely did an actor at the top of their Hollywood game make themselves available on behalf of a long-dead show, and the Blue Coats were accordingly stoked.
On a personal level, though, it was hell.
For three days after Albuquerque, AJ had felt lifeless. She and Noah had sat together for only a few hours, but they had been the best few hours of AJ’s entire year.
On the fourth day, she began to reason with herself. These events were necessary, and Noah’s attendance was a boon. If she had to budget for an emotional hangover after each one, so be it.
Honestly, she was golden as long as they didn’t touch.
Noah had barely grasped her shoulder in New Mexico, but it hadn’t mattered. AJ had thought of it for days. Which wasn’t fair—to her or Brian. They were engaged now. AJ wanted to be good.
So moving forward, no touching.
AJ reminded herself of this as the staffer showed her into a spacious greenroom, where she was immediately assaulted by the sight of Noah’s sculpted shoulder blades in a black long-sleeved shirt. He was standing in the far corner, speaking with Risa and a man AJ didn’t know.
“Age,” called Dave, always the statesman. He motioned for her to join him, Xiaobo, and Toni in the other corner, where his Android was in a cup playing “Hold It Against Me.”
AJ felt Noah tracking her as she hugged Dave and Xiaobo, and then, very stiffly, Toni.
“Come here often?” said Toni.
“Right? Of all the gin joints,” said AJ, nervously overdoing it.
Toni gave her a small smile. After AJ insisted they all be included in the Comic Expo panel, Toni was making more of an effort to be cordial.
Truly, Toni and the others had done AJ and Noah the favor. Neither she nor Noah would have made it through a single question on their own. Meanwhile, their castmates were fully steeped in the show’s lore, easily fielding topics from episode-by-episode trivia to fan conspiracy theories.
“Did you hear we’re completely sold out?” asked Dave excitedly.
“I heard we outsold the event for The Hobbit,” said Xiaobo. Toni raised an eyebrow. “What? The staff guy is cute and loves to gossip.”
Dave turned an ill shade at this, but AJ felt sicker. She knew she should be happy—more ticket sales meant more money. But having to walk onstage in front of all those people was terrifying.
AJ’s skin flushed; Noah was still eyeing her. She smiled at him, and he motioned for her to cross the room.
“How’s the bride-to-be?” said Risa, embracing AJ like a sorority sister. “You guys set a date yet?”
“Not yet,” said AJ.
Noah’s torso angled toward her, as if he were about to reach out.
No. Touching.
Quickly, AJ turned to the new man. He was in his late forties and stood about five foot ten, wearing an expensive blue suit that accentuated his very blue eyes. His tan was an accomplishment.
“AJ, this is Ned, my manager,” said Noah.
“Nice to meet you, AJ,” said Ned, extending his hand. AJ shook it; it was a good handshake. “I was sorry not to be there in Albuquerque, but my nephew was getting married.”
“I guess we’ll have to forgive you then,” said AJ. Ned laughed harder than the joke deserved, which made AJ warm to him probably more than he deserved. He glanced from AJ to Noah. “Why don’t we give you kids a minute to catch up?”
Ned pulled Risa aside, and they began flipping through photos on her phone.
AJ looked up into Noah’s face. He was studying her, a little shyly. AJ’s cheeks colored; he was the only cast member she hadn’t hugged in greeting.
He’s not keeping track, she reminded herself. He stepped toward her, placing his hands on his hips. As he did, Ned glanced over like a chaperone.
“I’ve been brushing up,” said Noah. “I think I could actually answer that question about Rho’s patrilineage if it came up today. I had no idea how…academic these things would be.”
AJ laughed. “How have you been studying?”
“The woman who runs is actually a pretty good writer,” he said, bashfully rubbing his bangs. “And I watched a couple episodes.”
AJ’s eyebrows shot up. “You must be really feeling the pressure,” she said, smiling teasingly into his dark eyes. Then she admitted, “I did too.”
She’d watched the first three to see if she could stand it. Every time she walked onscreen, it came as a shock. But as the episodes progressed, AJ found herself pleasantly surprised by her own choices. Ana came across as vulnerable but quietly strong.
Noah gave her a knowing smirk. “I thought you were good, too,” he said, and AJ felt a tug. So faint. Not at all like it had been while filming. That was in the footage too, how intensely they felt each other, how that had meant more than what was or wasn’t being said. Now, all they had were words.
A staffer appeared with a five-minute warning. Risa came forward to spruce Noah.
AJ glanced at her own reflection. She had actually applied mascara today and swapped out her usual tee for an Ana-adjacent white blouse. The glasses and bun were all AJ, though.
Risa caught AJ’s eye. “Come here.”
“Why,” said AJ suspiciously, but she obeyed.
Noah rejoined them as Risa considered AJ with a beautician’s eye. “You have the best hair,” she cooed. “What do you think, Noah? Up or down?”
“Oh, I’m the wrong person to ask,” said Noah lightly. In the mirror, AJ thought she saw his hand tense.
“Okay great, down it is,” said Risa. She reached over and in two twists, removed the elastic from AJ’s hair, shaking it out with her fingers.
“Glasses,” she said, opening her palm. Reluctantly, AJ handed over her spectacles. She was nearsighted without them; maybe that would help. Maybe she wouldn’t be able to see the crowd. Risa positioned AJ in front of the mirror. For the first time in forever, Ana Tar stared back.
“Better,” said Risa.
“If you say so,” said AJ. She glanced over her shoulder and caught Noah watching. He blinked a few times as the staffer returned to bring them out.
Now they were lining up: Xiaobo, then Toni, then Dave, then AJ, then Noah.
As they processed backstage single file, the crowd’s chanting exploded into earshot. Up ahead in the wing, Toni, Dave, and Xiaobo stretched and shook themselves to expel the adrenaline. Noah, meanwhile, stood calmly behind. AJ crossed her arms and squeezed her ribs.
Fuck. It sounded like a football stadium out there.
Their moderator today was Wystan Ruiz, a decorated playwright with a deep passion for the show. His intros for the cast were so twee, AJ would have laughed if she hadn’t felt so sick.
“Xiaobo Lee, aka Captain Quentin Chan, disaffected leader!”
“Break a leg!” Xiaobo whispered over his shoulder.
He walked onstage to deafening shrieks, a stunned grin spreading across his face. Whoa, he mouthed offstage, before taking one of six tall black director’s chairs.
As AJ advanced, she caught her first glimpse of the audience. Suddenly she wasn’t getting enough air.
Ballroom A was a cavernous carpeted conference room the size of a large car dealership. SNL’s studio capacity was three hundred seats; this venue looked at least five times that.
The crowd was on their feet cheering for Xiaobo, fathoms of fans in Blue Coat blue, peppered with makeshift Petes, and Navis, and Zoras, and Irises, and Anas, and Rhos. Once again, AJ felt staggered that this many people had seen the show. That this many people were…here.
Now her lungs weren’t filling at all.
Her mind was skipping backward, past SNL and UCB Chelsea, to her high school cafetorium, where she’d hyperventilated while auditioning for Uncle Vanya. Fuck. It was happening again. She couldn’t get air. There wasn’t enough air.
“Toni O’Brian, aka First Mate Zora Ganz, wounded warrior!”
Toni walked on to a tidal wave of applause, and Dave took another step down the gangplank.
AJ willed her legs to follow, but they wouldn’t carry her forward.
Instead, they turned toward the exit, bringing her face-to-face with Noah. AJ couldn’t see the door past his irritatingly large frame. His expression became serious the moment he saw hers.
“I don’t think I can do this,” whispered AJ.
Noah looked around, probably for someone to intervene. He didn’t want to deal with her acting out, or acting like Eudora, and AJ didn’t even care, she just wanted to get to the exit and—
Noah stepped toward her. “Breathe,” he said in a low voice.
AJ shook her head furiously. “You were right,” she gasped. “I hate this. I don’t want to be seen. I don’t belong here.”
“Dave Marans, aka Peter Hobbes, technological trickster!”
Now Dave was onstage, and they were alone in the wing. As the crowd erupted again, AJ was pitched into another wave of panic. She was next. They would call her name, and she would still be frozen, and the room would go silent, and they’d all know she’d imploded and—
“Oh God—”
Noah caught her by the shoulder and pressed his other hand to her sternum. “Breathe.”
The heat of his palm felt like sun pouring directly into her lungs. Every fiber of her being now focused on the part where it was connected to his. For a second, his nearness fixed her in place.
Then, shit. This was bad. AJ wasn’t supposed to have this. She was fucking up again and—
Noah must have felt her heart rate spike. He bowed so their foreheads touched; his eyes were closed, long lashes fanned out across his cheekbones. AJ felt his bangs brush her brow, felt his energy surround her like a moat. Her eyes sank shut. She took one breath, then another.
When her eyes reopened, the world had receded, and it was just them. Noah’s eyes were still closed, and he was breathing deeply, pouring his warmth into her. AJ stilled in his grasp, her body yielding to its mate. She breathed. She breathed again. Her eyelids shut once more.
When they reopened, they were back in the wing. Gently, Noah lifted his head, his eyes soft on hers. He did not remove his hands. They stood together like that for one breath, then another.
“AJ Graves, aka Ana Tar, seeker.”
Noah still hadn’t let go, those dark eyes of his inked in memory, and now AJ was seventeen again, in another wing, at another convention. “Hi,” he said roughly.
Despite everything, AJ smiled. “Hi.”
Noah’s gaze shone. Slowly, his hand lifted off her chest. He swept her hair over her shoulder, away from her face. Then he nodded toward the stage. He let her go.
As she turned to face the lights, AJ’s terror began to recrystallize like frost.
In ten seconds, she would walk out and all anyone would think was “No.”
It’s a terrible thing to stand in the wings, haunted by the specter of your younger self.
Onstage, Toni was staring at AJ with a fascinated expression, but beyond her, AJ could see Dave’s encouraging smile. Shuddering, AJ stepped out from the shadows.
The heat of the spotlights hit her face, followed a nanosecond later by the roar of the crowd. What came next was such an intense wave of love, it drove the sound out of the room.
As AJ looked out into the sea of blue, she collided with an alternate reality.
She had been in a show. A real one.
All those commenters on the boards…they weren’t just usernames.
They were real people who had watched the show and loved it. Who had made it their own. Who had drawn strength from it, who had written fan fiction about it. Just as AJ once had.
“We love you, Ana!” Even without her glasses, AJ could see Otto’s bald head in the front row, Oona right beside him. They waved, holding up a poster that read I’m Breaking Space and Time.
As AJ looked out at their faces, she felt something unlock inside her. She remembered what it was to love a stupid television show so much it became your world.
In this room, Into the Blue had been real, and these people, the Blue Coats, had all gathered to collectively steal an extra moment inside that universe.
A universe AJ had helped create.
Her hand found its way to her heart as the tremendous honor of it hit her. She smiled out at the crowd and bowed to them, and the sound of their applause was so thunderous she had to laugh.
As AJ took her seat, she glanced into the wings and saw Noah standing poised on the edge between darkness and light.
Yes, she knew what it was to suspend your entire reality for just a little more time.
She nodded to him. Thank you. Noah returned her nod as the moderator called Rho, shadow.
They stayed the full afternoon for another signing. When AJ boarded the red-eye home from Miami, she had made forty-one thousand dollars.