Chapter 3

three

. . .

“Well, this is it.” Hillary was still across the street, staring at the enormity that was the Javits Center. Twenty-six hours had passed since she last thought of calling Olivia to tell her she was the wrong reporter for the job.

The glass facade of the Javits Center gleamed under the early morning sun, its angular lines and soaring heights a testament to modern architecture, but a little out of place along the riverfront compared to the historic buildings around it.

Hillary watched as a colorful stream of people flowed toward the entrance, their excitement palpable even from a distance. Superheroes and villains, princesses and wizards, creatures from the depths of the imagination and icons from the pages of history and anime galore walked in droves around her. Each person was here because they wanted to be. She was here because she had to be, and if she didn’t center herself, she’d be overwhelmed before she even got in the door.

A group of Stormtroopers marched in formation, their white armor catching the light. A Deadpool danced by, his red and black suit a splash of irreverence amidst the crowd. There were Harley Quinns and Jokers, their over-dramatic laughter carrying across the street, and a towering Chewbacca, his furry head bobbing above many attendees.

Hillary took a deep breath, adjusted her glasses, and stepped off the curb. Crossing the street was more like crossing a threshold into another world. The closer she got, the more the energy of the crowd enveloped her. There was a buzz in the air, an almost tangible shared anticipation.

Grabbing the pro badge dangling around her neck, she awkwardly pulled open the doors the map she’d studied all morning alluded she could use. There was a crowd before security, but she was surprised the line was not longer, and wondered if people were low in attendance during the week, or if many were already inside. Though no one spoke to her, she was shocked there was no shoving or fights either despite the tightly packed crowd.

She reached the security scans and paused, taking in the scene before her. The floor was flooded with people running, posing and seemingly even getting dressed while welcoming the throngs of enthusiasts. Beyond them, she glimpsed banners hanging from the ceilings and two escalators that seemed to vanish into the ceiling. What she didn’t see was a clear map or way to understand where anything was or would be without going through her email.

With a mix of worry and excitement, Hillary lifted her badge and tried not to hold her breath as the guard scanned it, the simple chime followed by his nod. “Thank you,” she moved quickly past him as if concerned the scanner would find something she couldn’t bring in.

She blinked, adjusting to the change in light. The interior was gigantic even with the hundreds of people she could see and filled with a dizzying array of sights and sounds even without seeing merchandise booths or celebs right out the gate.

Towering banners hung from the ceiling, emblazoned with the logos of iconic franchises. No vendors seemed to be on the entry level, but a Starbucks to the right and a sign boasting chicken tenders made her remember she needed to figure out how to eat and not miss timed events.

There were displays of intricate costumes, standees with large crowds waiting to take pictures, and dozens of cameras thrust into the air trying to capture it all. Something she would have to start doing sooner rather than later.

The hum of a thousand excited conversations filled the space, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter or exclamation of delight.

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Despite her usual reserve, she couldn’t help but be swept up in the sheer joy and passion that surrounded her. She adjusted the badge dangling from the lanyard around her neck, took a deep breath, and stepped forward into the throng, assuming she needed to walk toward one of the up escalators.

Hillary navigated through the ocean of devoted and creatively dressed fans, the noise of their excited conversations and laughter washing over her. Vibrantly hued wigs, intricately detailed prop weapons, and meticulously crafted costumes engulfed her, making her plain blazer and slacks stand out like a sore thumb. She hugged her notebook closer to her body, seeking some sense of comfort amidst the chaotic energy of the Comic Con convention center. The air was charged with anticipation and passion, pulsing with the collective love for all things geek culture. A love she was going to have to find quickly if she didn’t want to offend anyone.

Taking a deep breath, Hillary ducked into a slightly quieter corner and pulled up her email to confirm nothing had changed. “Of course there’s a change.” She sighed as she clicked open the email on the top despite knowing a new line up would destroy her confidence and prep.

Her eyes scanned down the list of requested photos and panels, each row filled with a jumble of words and time slots. She knew her brow must be furrowed in concentration putting others off, but she had to focus around the noise as she searched for any changes made to the schedule. Her heart fluttered and her stomach coiled with nervousness as she landed on a name that seemed to leap off the page.

Julius Theon.

“Not possible,” she whispered to herself, blinking rapidly as if the name might disappear. “This can’t be right.”

She double—then triple-checked—the schedule, but it was in black and white. Hillary Mitchell, journalist for Muse Magazine, was set to interview none other than Julius Theon, the biggest fantasy star in Hollywood. The same Julius Theon whose movies she’d watched countless times, whose posters had graced her teenage bedroom walls when he was barely older than a teen himself. The star she daydreamed about meeting more times than she would ever admit out loud.

Hillary’s mind raced, trying to process this unexpected turn of events. Muse magazine was the third largest magazine in its space, but to interview with her? With a journalist who has no front-page byline? Either he was crazy, or this was a mistake.

For a moment, she was torn between letting out a scream, or puking into the nearest trash can to try to evacuate her nerves. Neither seemed acceptable.

This could be the big break she’d been waiting for, the chance to prove herself as a quality journalist. But the thought of coming face-to-face with Julius, of trying to maintain her composure in front of his magnetic presence, made her palms sweat and her heart race.

“Okay, breathe,” she muttered, forcing herself to take a few slow, deep breaths. “You’ve got this, Hillary. He’s just another actor, another interview. No big deal. Do not focus on how handsome he is or how he’s shirtless half of the time in his movies and you know exactly what thought’s you’ve had about doing to him thanks to said costume.”

But even as she said the words, Hillary knew they weren’t true and that her cheeks flamed red as she placed her palms on them to confirm the growing heat. Julius Theon was a big deal, and this interview had the potential to change everything for her career. She glanced at her watch, realizing she only had a few minutes before she was supposed to meet him at his booth.

Debating whether or not she should fix her hair out of the boring bun or check her makeup, Hillary took one last steadying breath before stepping back into the bustling crowd, determined to make the most of this incredible opportunity.

She navigated through the throng of fans, her eyes scanning for any sign of Julius’s booth, her mind already spinning with potential questions and angles for the interview. This was her moment, she was either going to fly or fall. Her money was on the latter, but she would give anything for it to be the former.

“All fans for the Julius Theon autographing session, you have fifteen minutes to get in line before this scheduled opportunity closes. This is a curtesy announcement due to the time change. Another will not be made.” A man in a bright orange shirt shouted into a megaphone dangerously close to her.

She wasn’t certain if that was the universe sending her a blessing or calling her an idiot, but glancing up to see a sign labeled ‘autographs lower level’ meant she was going to find him and not let Olivia down on interview one.

Thank god.

Dashing past people, her heart nearly jumped out of her chest as she saw nothing of the stage itself. Hundreds, possibly even a thousand, people gathered in a queue that took up damn near the entire room. They may have fifteen minutes to get in line, but at this rate, she would miss her interview, which would push all her others back. The line seemed to stretch on forever, a testament to Julius Theon’s immense popularity. Another glance at her watch again, sent a sinking feeling in her stomach.

There was no way for her to get where she needed to be.

Walking along the edge of the queue, she scanned for any sign of a security guard or staff member. The constant excited chatter and the occasional squeal of delight from a fan made it hard to concentrate, but she continued to look, weaving her way through the mass.

As she walked, Hillary couldn’t help but marvel at the dedication of Julius’s fans. Many were dressed in elaborate costumes, their faces painted to resemble characters from his movies. Others clutched posters, books, and other memorabilia, their eyes shining with anticipation at the thought of meeting their idol. The air was thick with a palpable sense of excitement, and despite her own nerves, Hillary found herself getting caught up in the infectious energy.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she spotted a security guard standing near the front of the line, his arms crossed and his expression stern. Hillary approached him cautiously, her pro badge held out in front of her like a shield with her press badge dangling beside it.

“Excuse me,” she said, her voice barely audible above the noise of the crowd. “I’m Hillary Mitchell from Muse Magazine. I have a scheduled interview with Mr. Theon, but I’m afraid I won’t make it to the front of the line in time.”

The guard looked her up and down, his eyes lingering on her press badge for a moment before he nodded curtly. “You don’t interrupt the signing,” the guard damn near rolled his eyes. “Wait here,” he said gruffly, gesturing to a spot just outside the queue. “Mr. Theon is only signing for the next thirty minutes, but I’ll let him know you’re here for the interview.”

Hillary let out a sigh of relief, her shoulders sagging as the tension drained from her body. “Thank you,” she said, a genuine smile spreading across her face. “I really appreciate it.”

As the guard disappeared into the crowd, Hillary took a moment to compose herself. She smoothed down her blazer, adjusted her glasses and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The pounding of her heart nearly sent her to the nearest trash can, but she forced herself to take slow, deep breaths, trying to calm her racing nerves. She had time, but she wasn’t going to be caught off guard if she could help it. She took out her phone and frantically began to search for interviews with him so she wouldn’t ask the same pedantic questions.

The queue continued to move forward, fans stepping up to the table where Julius sat, their faces lit up with joy as they interacted with their hero. Hillary watched them, marveling at the way Julius seemed to make each person feel special, his attention focused solely on them as he signed their items and posed for photos.

His genuine interest and engagement were evident, and Hillary wondered how he managed to maintain such authenticity in the face of such overwhelming adoration.

That wasn’t all she noticed, either.

He was even more striking in person, his chiseled features and piercing blue eyes even more captivating than they appeared on screen. A throng of fans surrounded him, clamoring for his attention, but Julius seemed to take it all in stride, his easy smile and warm demeanor never faltering. He looked so different in a plain black shirt and jeans, but both clung to his muscular body and nearly sent her mind wandering.

“I’m sorry to say, this session is over and I need to get pop out before someone more important than me is enraged I’ve stolen their space.” Julius’s voice seemed to somehow float about the noise. “As always, sessions are listed in the app, make sure to line up early!”

“Come on then, best not to keep him waiting he has a packed schedule,” a burly security guard called out, jolting Hillary from her thoughts. As she watched him stand and walk toward her, Hillary’s heart began to beat frantically as she was mere steps away from coming face-to-face with Julius himself.

Heart pounding in her chest, Hillary took a tentative step forward, her mind racing with all the questions she wanted to ask, all the insights she hoped to glean from this interview. As she approached the table again, Julius looked up, his blue eyes locking with hers, and for a moment, the world seemed to fall away.

She’d never dared to think his gaze would land on her the way it did on his co-stars, but it was. His mouth was slightly parted, and he did nothing to change his stare. Her knees seemed to tremble under his gaze.

“Hi there,” he said, his voice warm and inviting. “I assume you’re my first interview of the day?”

“Yes, hi, I’m Hillary Mitchell,” she managed to say, hoping her voice didn’t betray her nerves or that her words wouldn’t come out in the wrong order. “I’m a journalist with Muse Magazine. According to my email, I have you for the next eighteen minutes.” She lifted her press badge and awkwardly tugged her ID from her bag to show him.

Why didn’t you have that out?

Julius’s smile widened, and he gestured for her to come closer. “Well, isn’t that an odd amount of time? Of course, Hillary. I’d be happy to chat with you. Let’s talk and walk if you don’t mind. I need to clear out for the person after me.”

She nodded and popped her notebook and pen in the bag and pulled her phone back out. “May I record for accuracy then?”

“By all means. The camera loves me.” He winked playfully and she couldn’t help but wonder if the sparkle in his eye was real or if she imagined him looking at her that way.

She took her millionth deep breath of the day, trying to calm her racing heart, and mentally ran through her list of questions trying to find the best one to start with. This was her chance, her moment to prove herself, and she was determined not to let it slip away if she could only force herself to speak.

“So, Hillary, what would you like to know?” The guard fell in place in front of them, but she noticed two more moving to walk behind him as he took the steps down the platform.

Hillary took a deep breath, her voice softening as she began, “I’ve been following your career for a while now, and I’m always impressed by the depth and complexity you bring to your roles. How do you prepare for such emotionally demanding characters when you’re so used to merely dashing into a war?”

Julius leaned forward, his gaze never leaving hers. “It’s all about understanding the character’s motivations, their fears, their desires. I try to put myself in their shoes, to see the world through their eyes. It’s not always easy, but it’s incredibly rewarding.”

As he spoke, Hillary found herself mesmerized by his presence, his words washing over her like a gentle wave. She nodded, but for a moment, she couldn’t seem to form her next question.

“I, um,” Shoot.

Julius smiled, his voice warm and encouraging. “Take your time, Hillary. Eighteen minutes is longer than I’m used to having to talk about myself, anyway.”

The warmth of a blush creeped into her cheeks, but she pushed forward, determined to make the most of this opportunity. “Your fans adore you, Julius. What do you think it is about your performances that resonates with so many people? That is to say, why do you think you were swamped a moment ago with damn near half the con waiting?” She winced as the opinionated question slipped out.

“I think it’s the authenticity,” he replied, his gaze thoughtful. “When I’m on screen, I’m not just playing a role. I’m living it, breathing it, feeling it. And I think that comes across, that emotional truth that people can connect with on a deeper level.”

As the interview progressed, Hillary swore she found herself pulled deeper into Julius’s world. She was captivated by his unbridled passion for his work, his unwavering dedication to his craft, and his ability to articulate his thoughts with such eloquence. Her questions came one after another, each met with a thoughtful and insightful response that only strengthened her admiration for the man walking beside her.

That man was more than just a handsome face, and he was incredibly talented at putting others at ease. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear he was more charismatic talking to her than any other interview she’d seen with him from countless press tours.

She couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes lingered on hers, the way his smile seemed to hold a secret promise, a hint of something more. It was electric, this connection between them, and Hillary felt herself getting lost in it, her professional facade slipping away to reveal the woman beneath.

The bustling energy of the convention swirled around Hillary and Julius as they walked together, the interview drawing to a close no matter how slow she seemed to move.

Costumed fans and excited attendees passed by their chatter and laughter blending into a vibrant cacophony that seemed to fade into the background as Hillary focused on the man before her. She’d never experienced such a magnetic pull in all her life, and somehow, she wasn’t making a fool of herself.

“Last question,” she said, her voice soft and tinged with reluctance. “What’s next for Julius Theon? Any upcoming projects you can tease for your fans that will take you away from your most popular role?”

Julius leaned in, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, I can’t give away too much, but let’s just say there’s a certain sci-fi epic in the works that I’m very excited about. It’s going to be a game-changer to step into space.”

Hillary’s eyes widened, her journalistic instincts kicking in. “That sounds incredible. Can you tell me more?”

But before Julius could respond, a sudden surge of fans pressed forward, their voices rising in excitement as they clamored for autographs and photos. Security guards stepped in, trying to maintain order, but the chaos was overwhelming.

I can’t lose this opportunity , Hillary thought, her heart pounding as she watched Julius being swept away by the crowd. I have to find a way to get this from him.

Impulsively, she reached out, her hand grazing his arm. “Julius, wait! Can we?—”

“A ‘we’ question then?” he snickered and offered her his hand. “Come on, I’ve got a feeling this interview isn’t over just yet.”

She avoided putting her hand in his for fear she’d turn into a gelatinous puddle on the ground, but she did follow him as he walked through the outer hall and into an unmarked room, the security following.