The Pros of Cons

by Alison Cherry

  “The what?”

  Laughing, I waved and started weaving around the tightly packed tables. I was so relieved, I almost felt like I could’ve floated right over them. It might take a while to fix things with Christina, but a twenty-hour bus ride seemed like a good place to start.

  We figured editing our mini-podcast wouldn’t take more than a few hours, but Phoebe stocked up on enough crepes to get us through a whole day, just in case. And it was a good thing, too; we ended up working right up until our deadline.

  Well, working was maybe not the most accurate description of what we were doing. There was definitely work involved: figuring out how to make an actual story out of the dialogue we’d recorded (mostly Callie and me), and figuring out which audio clips to add, and when, to create the effect we wanted (mostly Phoebe).

  But along the way, we kept getting distracted by, say, turning on actual episodes of A Thousand Words for inspiration (Callie), or sharing cool facts about the percussion instruments we were hearing in our clips (Phoebe), or imagining what it might be like to kiss Merry and totally zoning out on what was actually happening in the room (me). Luckily, though, we always got each other focused again. We were a good team.

  At quarter to four, we stopped working and played back our whole finished podcast, just once, to make sure we hadn’t done anything horribly stupid in the editing process. Five minutes later, the recording ended—and for a second, the three of us just kind of sat there, smiling stupidly at each other.

  Then Phoebe said, “Well done, ladies!”

  And that was it. That was our project, finished.

  I emailed the file to the moderators. We each ate one last crepe. We went through our suitcases and picked outfits for the Creativity Corner: a dress printed with hot air balloons for Callie, jeans and a red shirt for Phoebe, and jeans and the puffy-paint I <3 Harry Potter shirt for me. Yes, I’d already worn it once, and yes, there was apparently some unspoken set of convention rules that made my shirt uncool, but screw that, right? I loved that shirt, and the pits didn’t smell or anything, so I was going to wear it.

  And then? Off we went, down to the A-wing ballroom.

  I had a flimsy plan in mind for if we needed to sneak Phoebe and Callie in, but it turned out not to be necessary; for whatever reason, the security people waved us through without even a glance at our badges. So we snagged a trio of seats and waited for the show to begin.

  At five o’clock on the nose, the house lights went down. Cheers rose up from the audience. And a short black girl in Hogwarts robes walked out on stage: Beth, the same person who’d moderated Soleils panel on that first day. My stomach twisted at the reminder of my ex–best friend—but I told it to shut up, because this wasn’t about Soleil, not anymore. This was about me and my two new friends.

  Beth explained that she would be the emcee for the event, and explained how it worked. There were five categories: Visual Arts, Prose, Audio/Video (anything that starred fans themselves instead of featuring clips from the source material; this was where our podcast would be), Fanvids (clips of movies and TV shows and things, set to a song, like a music video), and Performances. And there were five judges: one who specialized in each category.

  We got to see all the Visual Arts stuff first, projected in a slideshow on a screen that rolled down from the ceiling above the stage. And then there were fanfic readings, and, okay, I’ll be honest, I didn’t really hear or see any of them. Because as soon as they started showing stuff, my stomach erupted into butterflies, and all I could do was sit there between Phoebe and Callie, wait for our podcast, and hope there wouldn’t be a mass exodus from the ballroom as it played because we sucked so much.

  The Audio/Video category was up next. There were some filks—people rewriting lyrics to popular songs so they were about fandom stuff instead of whatever they’d originally been about—and some original songs. And some seriously cool videos, some of which looked professionally edited—including this one called “Look, Ma, We Fixed It,” where two girls cross-dressed to re-create a scene from Sherlock that, in their version, ended with Sherlock and John making out.

  And then Beth said, “Our final piece in Audio/Video is called ‘A Thousand Feels: A Mini-Podcast in the Style of A Thousand Words,’ created by Callie Buchannan, Phoebe Byrd, aaaand Vanessa Montoya-O’Callaghan.”

  I reached out and took my new friends’ hands. Callie laced her fingers through mine. Phoebe squeezed so hard it almost hurt.

  Here we go, I thought.

  A Thousand Feels:

  A Transcript

  [fade in, sound of thirty people drumming on rubber practice pads—a comforting sound, like heavy rain on a rubber roof]

  SOLEIL: Okay, are you sure this is going to be anonymous? Because this isn’t the kind of thing you can just go around telling people.

  JEFF: This is anonymous, right?

  PHOEBE: Totally anonymous, promise.

  GUY: Okay. So, here goes.

  [crowd noises; sound of a toddler crying]

  GIRL FROM COSTUME COMPETITION: Who are you supposed to be?

  PHOEBE: What’s your name?

  CALLIE: Which convention are you here for?

  SOLEIL: WTFcon. That stands for We Treasure Fandom.

  HARLEY: The World Taxidermy Championships.

  JEFF: IPAC. Indoor Percussion Association Convention.

  [Sound of a marimba being played. Player messes up,

  laughs, plays phrase again correctly.]

  WENDI: These conventions are so fascinating to me. People come to them for the panels and workshops, obviously. But it seems like most of them are really here because they’re desperate to be seen.

  GIRL 2 FROM COSTUME COMPETITION: Cauldron cakes! Two for a sickle!

  GUY: It’s genius, isn’t it? We could both make millions. Billions! That’s a guarantee.

  HARLEY: [singing] I’ll tell you what I want, what I really really want!

  PHOEBE: It’s like an awesome geek parade.

  WENDI: For some people, this is probably the only place they feel like they can be themselves. They just want to find their people and connect.

  GIRL 3 FROM COSTUME COMPETITION: I think you should dress like that all the time.

  GIRL 4 FROM COSTUME COMPETITION: Oh, totally.

  LITTLE GIRL: Mommy, my wig is itchy!

  WENDI: People seem to find cosplay really freeing. I once showed up in a Stormtrooper costume and walked around the trade show floor all morning just to see what it was like.

  BERNICE: This is my very best work.

  VANESSA: Why can’t you tell her about it?

  BERNICE: I wish I could, but she just wouldn’t understand.

  TODD: That is simply something of which we do not speak.

  [sound of haunting melody played on a thumb piano]

  VANESSA: Problem is—

  WENDI: At home—

  VANESSA: I don’t think I have a best friend. There are some really nice people there, but nobody who I really click with, you know?

  PHOEBE: She and I used to be really close, until … well, apparently until I dumped her. That’s what she thinks, anyway. Even though she’s the one who made all these new friends.

  VANESSA: I thought we were best friends.

  CALLIE: We’d have, like, this adventure, start a new life, just the two of us. But—

  SCOTT: I guess she’s not interested either way.

  JILLIAN: She never listens to me.

  TODD: He … scarred me.

  PHOEBE: I’m not jealous, for the record.

  CALLIE: I can’t believe I was so stupid.

  WENDI: It’s interesting how sometimes you can be surrounded by thousands of people and still feel like you’re completely alone.

  [sound of steel drums]

  BEIGE: I HAVE A SECRET.

  TODD: I have no secrets.

  SCOTT: I don’t really have any secrets. It’s impossible to … just, everyone knows everyone’s business.

  TODD: Everyone knows that.r />
  BEIGE: Mommy can’t know. I want to whisper it.

  CALLIE: Come on, spill.

  BEIGE: [whispers] Mommy says I have to hate Delancey because she’s my arch-ne-me-sis, but I want to be her friend because she gave me a lollipop and it turned my mouth purple and Mommy was MAD but purple is my favorite color and it’s Delancey’s favorite color, too.

  MERRY: I met someone that I like.

  VANESSA: [whispers] I think it’s okay to be friends with whoever you want.

  BEIGE: [whispers] Even though I’m supposed to crush her?

  MERRY: It’s just a crush thing at this point. I don’t even know her that well yet. But I’m hoping that’ll change.

  SCOTT: I hooked up with another girl … from my school.

  PHOEBE: His new girlfriend really bothered me. I mean, she didn’t bother me, their relationship bothered me. I didn’t tell him because I figured he’d think I was jealous.

  SCOTT: I bet she thinks this is just like what happened with that girl last year, that I don’t care. But … I do.

  HARLEY: [singing] If you want my future, forget my past—

  SCOTT: I like her. Like, a lot.

  GUY: She’s just your average teenage girl, you know? Except she kicks ass!

  MERRY: She’s really pretty, in this offbeat-nerd kind of way. Really nice hair. Really great smile.

  GUY: And she has no idea how beautiful she is—

  MERRY: [laughs quietly]

  HARLEY: It was the best night of my life.

  CALLIE: There was this tiny little part of me that actually felt kind of hopeful.

  PHOEBE: They’re both great people, so of course they’re a great couple.

  SCOTT: It’s already weird because we’ve been friends for a long time, you know? She got kind of freaked out and took off.

  CALLIE: One day she was just gone, and I was still in the same place I’d always been.

  SCOTT: I really didn’t want her to go.

  JILLIAN: Honey, where are you going?

  WENDI: I really have to go now, all right?

  [sound of a gong being hit]

  CALLIE: The weird thing is … I know this doesn’t even make any sense, really. But I kind of feel like these two girls I just met while I’ve been here …

  VANESSA: … they already know me better than anybody at home.

  PHOEBE: They just … we really clicked, you know? Which is weird, because I barely even know them.

  SOLEIL: We tell each other literally everything.

  CALLIE: I wish I’d met them sooner. I feel like this last year would’ve been a lot easier if they’d been around.

  VANESSA: I hope they still want to stay friends after we leave.

  HARLEY: [singing] FRIENDSHIP NEVER ENNNNNDS …

  PHOEBE: Aww, you guys said that, too?

  VANESSA: We all said the same thing!

  CALLIE: You guys are the best.

  PHOEBE: Okay, bring it in. Group hug. This is happening.

  CALLIE: Oof—

  VANESSA: Awwwww.

  [laughter]

  [fade out]

  There wasn’t a mass exodus. People actually clapped. Sure, that didn’t necessarily mean anything, since people were clapping for literally everything—but there was something super cool about applause for a thing that I’d helped create.

  Still, I couldn’t help looking back and forth between my friends and asking, “It’s actually good, right? I’m not just imagining that it’s good?”

  “Oh yeah, it’s good,” said Callie.

  “It’s great,” said Phoebe. “We’re amazing.”

  The Fanvids category was next, but while there was some stuff in there that I liked (a couple Harry Potter vids, plus a seriously amazing Disney Princesses one, and even a really short Wonderlandia one), most of them weren’t fandoms that I knew very well. So I clapped politely along with everyone else, and waited for the Performances category to start. That was going to be fun.

  Or so I thought, until Beth announced the first piece in the category: “Our first entry is called ‘The Many Loves of Draco Malfoy,’ created by Aimee Hughes, Danielle Kozlov, Marziya Malik, aaaand Soleil.”

  No. No no no. No way. She wasn’t here. Our entry had been under my name, not hers. I’d misheard.

  Except then Phoebe said, “Are you kidding me?” so loudly that a couple people turned around to glare at her—so, no, I hadn’t misheard.

  “Gross,” said Callie.

  My legs tensed with the desire to stand up and get the hell out of there as fast as I could. But I stayed in my seat. I had to. This was my convention as much as hers.

  “She’s friends with the emcee,” I told them. “Bet you anything that’s how she got herself an entry.”

  Callie gave me a sympathetic smile. Phoebe rolled her eyes and snorted.

  A Beyoncé song started playing. No, wait, not solo Beyoncé. Destiny’s Child. “Say My Name.” A chorus of laughter rippled through the audience, because of course she’d pick something like that. It was classic and funny and ironic, all at the same time, and hey, you had to give Soleil this much: she knew how to please a crowd.

  “Oh my god,” murmured Phoebe, as Soleil and her posse took the stage, one by one.

  Soleil was dressed as Draco, in Slytherin robes and a spiky blond wig, because obviously she had to be the title character. Danielle was dressed as Harry. Marziya was Professor Snape, and Aimee was … Luna Lovegood, maybe? Or Fleur Delacour? I couldn’t actually tell which.

  The dance was exactly what Soleil had described, back when she’d first told me the idea. A totally overwrought dance of epic, unrequited longing—made even funnier when Soleil’s three new besties changed costumes offstage and came out again dressed as Hermione, Ron, and Sirius Black. And then as Neville, Tonks, and Lucius.

  Basically, it was a tribute to every fanficcer who’d ever shipped Draco Malfoy with anyone, and the audience clearly loved it, and the thing was, I probably would’ve loved it, too, except that Soleil’s performance kind of ruined the whole thing. Not only because it was Soleil, either, although that definitely didn’t help. The way she stretched and writhed and grimaced was so over the top, so incredibly look-at-me-look-at-me, that it probably would’ve made me want to puke even if we were still friends.

  “Not as good as our podcast,” whispered Callie when it was over, as everyone clapped. Phoebe grinned. I tried to grin back, but mainly I just tried to believe her.

  The other performances were a blur after that.

  But I pulled it together when Beth came back out on stage and announced that the judges were deliberating—because that was when she asked all the contestants to gather beside the stage so we could line up and take a bow.

  Phoebe shouldered her way through the crowd, Callie and me trailing in her wake. And when Beth called the Audio/Video contestants up on the stage, and we all lined up and waved at the crowd as they applauded us, I wasn’t thinking about Soleil at all.

  Then the Performances contestants took their bows, too, and Soleil and her Fangirl Trio stepped off the stage—and came right over to me. She crossed her arms over her chest, smiling smugly as she approached, and the urge to flee crept over me again. But, again, I didn’t. Because I could feel Callie and Phoebe hovering right behind me, like Soleil’s three minions were hovering behind her—except, no, not like that at all. Callie and Phoebe weren’t minions. They were actual friends.

  “Good performance,” I told Soleil, because someone had to take the high road, right?

  “Thanks,” she said, eyeing my puffy-paint shirt with a smirk. “Same to you—although, wow, what was that I heard in your little podcast? Can’t stop using my voice for your own benefit, can you?”

  “Literally nobody benefits from your voice,” said Phoebe. “And that’s literally as in literally.”

  “Oh yeah. I remember you now.” Soleil spared a second to level a death glare at Phoebe, then looked back at me. “Well, whatever. It’s not like you even used the good parts
of my interview, anyway.”

  I snorted. I couldn’t help it. “Your alternative facts about Marty Green. Right.”

  “Aw, Marty. I’ll tell him you said hi, okay?” She smirked. “By the way, how are all those novels of yours coming along?”

  Behind her, Danielle and Marziya exchanged a look. I wondered what she’d told them about me and my writing—but it didn’t actually matter, did it? Especially not after my pitch session this afternoon.

  “Actually, pretty great,” I said. “I showed something new to that literary agent again today. She said it was a huge improvement. Then she gave me her business card so I can send her my manuscript when it’s done.”

  Behind me, someone murmured, “Aw yeah, she did.” Phoebe, probably.

  In front of me, Soleil’s eyes were practically bugging out; this was clearly not the answer she’d expected. If she were a cartoon character, steam would be coming out of her ears.

  So obviously, I kept going: “And actually, it’s all because of you. You said that thing about living my life and writing about what I know. So that’s what I’ve been trying to do. And it turns out you were right. So hey. Thanks.”

  “I was— What’s that supposed to mean, I was right?” She sounded so confused. I didn’t blame her. Here she was, trying to insult me, and I totally wasn’t taking the bait.

  “It means,” I said slowly, “that you and Wendi gave me constructive criticism, and I took it. You should try it sometime.”

  Now she looked confused and pissed off. My work here was done.

  So I turned to my actual friends and said, “Come on, guys. They’re about to announce the awards.”

  We found a spot to stand in, far enough away from Soleil that I wouldn’t be tempted to look at her. And as Beth came back out on stage accompanied by the judges, Phoebe leaned over and whispered, “You? Are my hero.”

  There were eight awards in total. First, each of the five judges gave a Best in Category award to a piece in their own specialty category. (In the Audio/Visual category, our podcast lost to some song about a character from Supernatural. Weird choice, but whatever.) Then, all five judges voted on first, second, and third place for the overall competition.

  Third place went to a Doctor Who fanfic. I didn’t really have an opinion about it, since everything before the Audio/Visual category had been kind of a blur—but when the author went up on stage to accept her yellow ribbon, she looked like she was actually crying from happiness. So that was nice.