All the Feels (26 page)

It wasn’t until Xander was literally at her side that Liv realized the man approaching was him. Without his nineteenth-century clothing, Xander looked unexpectedly benign, and Liv squeaked when an apparent “stranger” put his arm around her waist.

“Jeez, Xander!” she said with a nervous laugh. “Don’t surprise me like that!”

“I didn’t try to. I’ve been trying to get your attention for the last five minutes.” He glared down the hallway. “I had some … difficulty getting through.”

“Difficulty?”

Xander rolled his eyes. “Your clothing selection seems to have tipped people off as to my secret identity.”

“Sorry, Batman.” She squeezed his arm. “But I’m still glad you made it.”

“Me too.”

Liv glanced out to the crowd to discover a wall of people staring, openmouthed, at Xander. She expected they’d ignore them after a minute, but he’d caused a sensation. A middle-aged woman came up and asked for a photograph, then a group of teens. After that, Xander hid behind Sarah, who seemed to intrinsically understand his anxiety. Liv joined him where he lurked against the wall, slouching like an angry preteen.

“I hate this,” he hissed. “Everyone’s staring.”

“Yes,” Liv snorted. “But that’s because they’re trying to decide if you’re really Major Malloy or just someone who looks a lot like him.”

“If this were actual cosplay,” Xander said, “wouldn’t I be wearing Malloy’s captain’s jacket?”

Liv bit her lip to keep from smiling. “This is meta cosplay,” she said sweetly. “You’re you, but not you. Malloy, but not really Malloy.”

“Meta, hmm? Why do I have a feeling I’m going to regret this?”

“Oh come on, Xander. It’ll be fine.” Liv bumped him with her hip. “I came to your panel. Now it’s your turn to come to mine.” She felt a wave of guilt for asking him to come
without
his steampunk garb. Xander in cosplay was the real Xander, while this version of him looked as anxious as she often felt. Liv smiled up at him. “
Starveil
isn’t
that
bad, is it?”

“No, dearest, it’s not,” he sighed. “But if I get trampled by a mob, I’m holding you personally responsible.”

A phone buzzed, and both Xander and Liv checked theirs.

And for the next half hour, Xander, Liv, and Sarah chatted silently, their phones buzzing back and forth as they waited out the last, interminable moments. Liv was leaning against Xander, a smile playing over her lips, as another text—for her alone—came through.

Liv felt her face begin to burn, and she turned her screen away from Xander as she tapped in a reply.

Half an hour of delays later, the door next to Brian opened, and he stumbled backward, falling into the ballroom. A security officer stared down at him. “Excuse me, sir, but we need to—”

“I’m still in line!” Brian shouted as he clambered to his feet. “I never left the line! I’m the first! The FIRST!”

The guard sighed wearily. “We’re going to start letting people in, sir. So if you could lead the line forward. No saving seats, no moving chairs, no running, no shoving…” The litany of rules continued long after Brian and the others came through the doors.

The ballroom was the biggest in the Marriott hotel, and it was filled with countless chairs, lined up like ranks of soldiers.

“Hurry up!” Joe said excitedly. “Brian’s halfway to the front already!”

Liv caught Xander’s hand and tugged him past an empty line of chairs to reach Brian, who had power walked to the front row, directly below the stage. Tom Grander’s spot was front and center, a steaming Starbucks paper cup and a water bottle next to the sign that announced him. Twenty more minutes passed as the rest of the long line of waiting fans entered, and the security moved individual people into the remaining spaces in the audience. Finally, the
Starveil
cast appeared.

The entire audience surged to its feet, cheering.

Xander didn’t move. He shook his head. “You
Starveil
people don’t fool around, do you?”

“Just get up.” Liv laughed. “People are staring at you.”

Xander climbed to his feet. “I’m up now, dearest. You happy?”

“Very,” Liv said, sliding her hand through his elbow and grinning.

“Good. Because I wouldn’t come here for anyone else.”

Liv felt her cheeks warm. “Thank you.”

She brought her attention back to the stage as the crowd settled in for the panel. The first portion involved the making of the
Starveil
movies, complete with video footage. This was followed by MRM’s long-winded synopsis of the evolution of
Starveil
from a small-budget indie film into the blockbuster franchise it had become.

Xander played
Candy Crush
on his phone the entire time.

“Xander!” Joe hissed, elbowing him. “You’re missing everything.”

He put his phone away, sliding as far from Joe as the seat would allow. Liv patted Xander’s arm.
“Be nice,”
she mouthed, and he leaned in to whisper in her ear.

“For you, dearest? Anything. But I promise being bad is so much more fun.”

Liv could hardly concentrate after the whispered suggestion. Suddenly Xander felt far too close, and the room too hot. She blinked, trying to force her attention back to the stage.

The emcee started with a round of preselected questions that had been e-mailed in by
Starveil
fans around the world. As those ended, a Q & A with the audience began. The first question asked was the one on everyone’s mind: “What’s happening with the
Starveil
franchise?”

Mike offered to field the question. “I’m not giving spoilers for my own announcement,” he said with mock-seriousness, “but Tom and I may have shared a few last night. All in good time.” He chuckled. “But not quite yet.” He ran his fingers across his mouth, zipping it up, and leaned back in his chair.

The audience broke into a spontaneous round of applause. Even Liv felt her hands growing clammy in anticipation. What
was
MRM’s big announcement?

The next two questions were for Tom. He was in good form, laughing bashfully at his unexpected disappearance from the Walk of Fame by saying he was “still on West Coast time” and then launching into a story about his experiences at Dragon Con. For half a second, Liv was terrified he’d mention something about their run-in, but, according to Tom, Atlanta had been “nothing but accommodating” and he was “definitely coming back next year.” Relieved, Liv settled back to listen.

The rest of the questions were the standard fandom queries.

“What was it like to kiss Tom Grander?”

“It was work,” the actress who played Tekla answered. “The kind of work you can’t believe you actually get paid to do.”

The crowd cheered.

“What was your favorite moment in
Starveil Five
?” another fan asked.

“I was standing offscreen when Tom and Brooklyn were filming that last scene, where Spartan sends her into the escape pod. I broke down. Mike had to redo some of the audio because I was crying so hard.”

Liv found herself grinning as she was drawn back into the joy of
Starveil
. Years of fandom feelings rushed over her like a flash flood, leaving her blinking back tears as she remembered standing in block-long lineups with her father, wanting,
needing
, to be the first to see the latest film. She loved
Starveil
with a passion. It was a link to her past, and no matter how difficult Tom Grander, actor, might be, the character of Spartan was still one she connected to on a visceral level. Her throat ached, remembering.

Liv wasn’t the only one overcome by feelings. A few fans only got as far as a gushing explanation as to why
Starveil
had changed their lives before the emcee took the mic away. “Remember,” the emcee said in a patronizing tone. “One-part questions. Save the testimonials for the Walk of Fame.” It was a rule only loosely enforced.

As everyone knew, the panel’s final act would be the big announcement, which Mike R. Miles had been hinting about for weeks, and the crowd grew restless as the time neared. As the emcee gave his closing comments, a faint chant started at the back of the room. “M R M!… M R M!… M R M!… M R M!… M R M!…” It grew in volume until the projectors shuddered, and Liv could feel it like a drum in her chest.

She glanced over at Xander. He was back to
Candy Crush
.

The actors onstage joined in the shouting. Finally, Mike R. Miles stood. He took the microphone in hand and sauntered to the front of the stage. Next to him, a giant projection of his face tracked his motions. He smiled and nodded with a showman’s practiced ease, waving away the thunder of the fans.

“Quiet, please,” he said, beaming down at the audience. “I’ve got a little announcement to make.”

The screaming grew in intensity. Mike grinned at the camera. His eyes twinkled. It was, Liv realized, a purposeful endeavor to drive up expectation. She chewed the edge of her nail, wishing he’d just make the damned announcement.

After a few more minutes, the din lowered, and Mike nodded. Behind him, the group of actors stood. Tom Grander was smiling, but it looked forced. She frowned in concern. What was bothering him? Mike looked directly into the camera’s lens. His face, half a story high, beamed down from the projection screen.

“It is with great excitement,” Mike said, “that I announce that there will be a NEW
Starveil
movie starring Tom Grander!”

Pandemonium ensued. Liv surged to her feet, screaming. Joe caught Liv by her shoulders, hugging her as she squealed into her ear. Kelly burst into tears. Sarah stared openmouthed at the screen while the fangirls fluttered around her like birds. Liv looked back to the stage to discover that Brian—strange, angry Brian—had somehow clambered onto the platform and was shaking the hands of the actors, tears streaming down his face. Mike R. Miles yelled something about “the efforts of the fans” and “crowdsourced plotlines” into the microphone, but no one could hear him over the screaming. Spectators stampeded down the aisles toward the actors and—tracked by the cameras—Brian was led off the stage by security.

The deafening roar of the audience belatedly drew Xander away from his phone. He looked around in confusion, then turned to Liv.