Chapter Two - Lucky #2
When we pull up at the convention center, it’s packed with people.
Buzz Con is the second largest Online Creator Convention in the nation—Vid Con being the largest and most anticipated—and people travel from all over to attend signings, panels, and meet and greets with their favorite creators.
The excitement coursing through me makes me fidgety, and I’m bouncing in my seat as I wait for the cab driver to cash me out.
I pull my suitcase from the back and head inside to grab my badge and figure out where I’m supposed to be.
The concourse is pretty easy to navigate, though I nearly run over a few toes as I dodge and weave through the crowd.
Some people don’t like crowded spaces, but I don’t mind—probably because I’m the youngest of six brothers and growing up, our house was always a mixture of survival of the fittest and pure chaos.
No one stops me, but I notice several people staring my way, recognition and surprise on their faces. I guess the rumors are true. No one really expected me to come back.
“Never underestimate me,” I mumble under my breath and keep walking.
I drop my gear—except for my skateboard, the most portable of my stunt props—at the coat check and head over to registration. I’ve got a few minutes to kill, and I’m in major need of caffeine, so after grabbing my badge, I search for a coffee kiosk.
“Damn,” I grumble when I spot it. The line is so long you’d think they were giving coffee away for free.
“Lucky!” Ziven Grant, a BMX rider and fellow Starlight Challenge finalist, waves at me from several feet up in the line.
“Up here!” He’s wearing a shirt with the sleeves cut off and gym shorts.
His long brown hair is pulled up into a ball at the crown of his head and his light brown cheeks are lifted into a wide-ass grin.
He looks like he literally just rolled out of bed and showed up—which, knowing Ziven, he probably did.
“Hey man,” I say, walking over and slapping hands with him. “How’s it going?”
“Dude, this con is sick. Hot girls everywhere, and they all want a piece of this.” He rubs a hand down his chest and waggles his eyebrows. “Some chick even asked me to sign her bra.”
“Nice,” I shift my board from one hand to the other. “I just got here about ten minutes ago. Caught a late flight, but clearly I have some catching up to do.”
“I’m surprised there’s not a swarm of girls around you right now.”
“Eh, everyone’s forgotten about me,” I say, waving away Ziven’s comments. I mean it as a joke, but there’s some truth in the words that makes my stomach twist.
Three months isn’t that long, but it’s long enough for people to find new content creators to follow, for sponsors to offer contracts to other people. To become replaceable.
“Yeah, okay,” Ziven makes a face, pointing to three blonde girls who have their phones pointed directly at me. When they spot me looking, they laugh and wave.
I wave back and smile. It feels good to be here, even if that same nervous energy from this morning courses through me, mingling with my excitement. It’s a weird combination of jabs and fluttering in my stomach.
The line moves and Ziven takes a step forward. “So, how does it feel to be a finalist in the Challenge?”
“You tell me,” I say. "Knowing you, you've probably already milked it for all its worth."
Ziven beams. "I may have casually thrown out that little detail in a few conversations with the ladies."
"Better take advantage while you can because I'm here now. Pretty soon, all eyes will be on me.”
“Dude, you're so full of it. What, you think you’re going to win or something?”
“Or my name isn’t Lucky DeLucca!” I slap my palm against Ziven’s, but there it is again, a jolt of nerves to my gut.
“Seriously though, I have a lot of ground to make up after the accident.” I think back to the number of views on my livestream video, to all the rumors flying around about me. “I really need this.”
There’s a lot of people who expected me to be done after my accident, but I’m back and better than before—and I intend to prove it.
Ziven's grin falters a little. As a BMX rider, he’s had his fair share of injuries. “I still can’t believe you walked away from that.” He whistles through his teeth. “You’re lucky to be alive, bro.”
“Did my doctor tell you to say that?” I smirk, though the words set my teeth grinding. “If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard that in the last few weeks, I wouldn’t need the hundred thousand Gs from the contest!”
Ziven laughs as the line finally moves enough to land us at the counter. The cashier blushes a bright pink when she sees me. “How can I help you?” she asks.
“Large caramel macchiato, please.”
“Sure thing, Lucky,” she says, as if we’re old pals.
When my videos first started gaining traction, I hadn’t really given it much thought.
Then they started going viral, and I was getting hundreds of messages a day, other creators reaching out and wanting to do collabs, and even sponsorship opportunities.
It still blows my mind when complete strangers recognize me, but I won’t lie, I love it.
"Yo, Lucky," Ziven trills, after we grab our coffee. "I see you have your skateboard there."
I notice his smirk. "That I do, friend."
He holds up his iPhone and waves it at me. “What do you say we film a little something, let the world know that Lucky DeLucca is officially back?”
"Hell yeah.” I chug my coffee then toss the empty cup in the trash—the adrenaline already pumping through me. "Game on.”