Jessica's taller than I thought she'd be. I pictured someone willowy and petite when we talked. She's easily five-foot-ten, and has the fuller figure of a woman whose body knows the rigors of an intense workout routine. The pep in her voice jars with her low cheekbones and angular features.

"You're thrown by the voice." Jessica says it as a fact. Before I can respond, she shrugs. "It's okay to admit it. People are always confused. They see me and think 'why isn't she a brute?' It's not fair, but when is life?" All of this delivered with a smile that is gentle and genuine.

"Is that why you picked me?" I ask, cautious as to the answer.

"Yes and no!"

"What's the 'yes'?"

Jessica's eye contact is intense. "Because you're fucking impressive and you remind me of me. Hard being someone who nobody gives a shit about."

"And... what's the 'no'?"

"Needed a client."

I lean back, enjoying the rich leather seating of the town car we're in. It's not as luxurious as whatever service Tiana uses, but it's a nice gesture. "Points for honesty," I shrug.

"You're not just a gig to me, though. Even if you weren't just my first and only client, I care." I trust her.

I blink, confused because it's true. Why do I trust her, of all people?

"It's because I'm non-threatening, blunt, and willing to do what it takes," Jessica offers, clearly seeing the turmoil that's overtaken my expression.

"Ah." I reply, nerves getting the better of me as we get closer.
When we get out of the car, having pulled into a rear entrance marked "Staff", Jessica adopts a different tack. Her easy temperament takes on a steely undertone as she interacts with someone from the venue.

There's a fearsome quality to her — one rooted in protectiveness — that I respect.

She doesn't slice people to ribbons, but she makes clear that she's an advocate for me. Her client.

Because I have an agent now.

Because I'm at GirlCon now.

I follow Jessica as we wind through beige, nondescript back hallways. The noise of the Con still bleeds through, even here.

We hang a left, and then the floor declines slightly as we march toward an entrance that says "Hall A, Backstage".

As we reach the double doors, Jessica stops me.

"Ever been on stage?"

I shake my head.

"Okay. Listen, There's gonna be a lot of people."

"Fuck," I mutter. "I'm not, um..."

I gesture towards one of the half-dozen Magisorcerer Tiana standees that I've seen on our short walk. "I'm not her."

Jessica rests her palm on my elbow. "Yeah. You're not."

The sting of it lands, and she notices. "Which is a good thing. You're you, and you're here because you are Kam!"

First Lis and now Jessica. "You keep talking to me like this, I might well grow an ego," I say, trying to playfully chide.

But there's no play in the way that Jessica levels her gaze on me. She gives a sharp nod. "Good!"

Jessica pulls open the door, and motions for me to get inside.

From down the hallway, though, a voice catches my ear. "—ich event is this?"

Someone else replies back. "It's... 'Perspectives On Magisorcerers'. It's the one with, y'know... the monster." I freeze.

Jessica shoots me a look that says "I will take care of that bullshit" and mouths, "go".

So I head backstage as I see Jessica walking toward some guy in his early twenties with a "STAFF" badge. He's got this look like he's waiting for Tiana to say something back. To accept his insinuation that I'm not supposed to be here.

I'm at least thankful that Tiana doesn't take the bait.

I'm less thankful, though, that it's because she's staring right at me. All of the feelings from that night flood back. I've had time to think about if this was a mistake. I'd gone back and forth up until this exact moment.

This is a colossal fucking mistake, and it's way too late to stop it.

My feet carry me to a chair that another staffer's brought me to, and I slump into it. Whatever's going to happen on stage will be a disaster of horrific proportions. I know it in my gut.

I'm rattled and it takes the person in front of me waving her hand to draw my attention.

It's Sidney Pinwell.

"Kam, it's so nice to meet you," Sidney says.

I wish I could return the enthusiasm. Sidney's a "columnist" the same way that an assassin makes a real good skeet shooting partner.

Everything she writes is about the menace of people like me. And yet here she is, trying to shake my fucking hand.

"Kamilliajora," I correct.

I don't shake her hand, and I don't say anything to her until she moves away. I curse myself for the hysteria she'll conjure for her next piece: "A Monster Was Rude To Me and Literally Killed Me All Because I Wanted To Shake Its (Her???) Hand".

I've gone numb, though.

I don't know how long it's been, but minutes have to have passed because there's a roar of applause from on-stage. My phone buzzes in my pocket. I check it and see three texts.

Jessica: Handled that little shit. Be in soon.

Lisette: You've got this, don't worry

Rax: Rooting for you!!

I look around. Tiana hasn't joined me backstage. Did she bolt?

Should I go, too, then?

"Please welcome to the stage, Kamilliajora Neff!" comes Sidney Pinwell's voice, and all too fucking late I put together why she wanted to shake my hand: she's the moderator.

Oh great.

Yeah. This'll go well.

I stand, and it's like I drift out there. The lights are bright, and the roar of the crowd is overwhelming. There's three chairs on stage — nice and plush, unlike the plastic one I was in just a moment ago. I take the one farthest from where I entered.

It lets me see backstage.

Where Tiana is now.

"And now... our favorite ice queen, the First Lady of the Magisorcerers herself, give it up for Tianaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Tiana's face is set, emotionless. She's looking past me.

The moment she's on stage, though, she grins. It's that fake smile from all those months ago.

When I went to return the ring.

Tiana sits across from me. I think I'm gonna be a mess, but...

She's still scared.

And yeah, what she did was fucked up.

And yeah, I should definitely not be here.

But...

But I grab a handheld mic from a side table next to my chair and I look into the crowd. "Holy shit there's so many of you."

It provokes a laugh from the crowd, and somehow it knocks Tiana outta her funk. She laughs, and picks up her mic. "I uh... I don't know if we're supposed to use that kind've language."

"Ah f—" I catch myself in time. "—aaaaarts."

More laughter. And I breathe a bit easier.

I haven't stopped looking at Tiana the whole time. I don't know what it is, but this close I remember the chemistry we shared before it all went so wrong.

How close we got, and how easy it became to feel the way I felt about her.

No matter what else has happened, none of that goes away.

Sidney clears her throat, but my gaze is locked on Tiana. "Anyway, welcome to our panel! So, my first question is for Kamilliajora. What's it like being a man in such a woman-dominat—"

I barely have time to register what Sidney's just said when—

"She's a woman," Tiana says, eyes on me.

"Sorry, I must've been confused," Sidney says, and the smug tone in her voice makes me want to rip her in two. She knows this. I know this.

And y'know what? Fuck it. I've got fifteen minutes of fame.

I stand up, and I walk towards the crowd. "So, uh... quick show of hands: who believes her?"

I peer out, but the lights are too bright. Suddenly, Tiana's next to me. "She's new to this stuff. Hey, round of applause if you think Sidney's lying!"

Tiana holds her microphone toward the crowd... who erupt with applause.

"I Was Literally Killed By GirlCon Attendees" Sidney's piece will read.

I look to Tiana. "Hi," I say.

"Hi," she says back.

I know we have to have that conversation. We really have to talk about all of it.

But god if it doesn't feel good just to not feel bad right now. Even if it's not real, even if it's just us in front of a crowd. Even if she'll hate me afterward.

And then someone in the crowd shouts "I SHIP IT!" Fear crashes into us both, and I can feel Tiana's walls starting to go up.

Except, the crowd starts roaring even louder. For us.

For me and Tiana. For us being more than just two people sharing a stage.

For a disaster of horrific proportions.