by Frankie Love
I take her hands, our fingers thread. “Isn’t it just about sex in costumes?”
“Not anymore.”
“Then what is it?” I ask, my inner demons rising up. Telling me I can’t believe this. Her. Us. Now.
Nothing is this good. This true. This real.
“This could be something--”
I cut her off. Pull up on the bed, moving away.
“What?” she says, shocked. “Did I? Do you not....” I see tears in her eyes, but I can’t believe that they are for me.
Because no one cries over Braden Bentley.
“I have to go,” I tell her, knowing it will hurt right now, but in the long run, it’s for the best.
I leave her hotel room, knowing I can’t look back.
Chapter Five
Aubrey
He leaves, and I’m left hyperventilating. All alone.
What. Was. That?
It’s hard to understand how we went back down from one hundred to zero so damn fast... but we did. And now I’m left sitting on the edge of my bed feeling rejected instead of satiated.
It was not supposed to go like that.
I was going to be ravished in the hotel room, my clothes ripped off as we devoured one another. It was supposed to be off the charts sex that would make my best friend blush. It was supposed to be a first time I would never, ever forget.
Instead, he left before showing me his sword. All talk, no game, no...
It just makes no sense at all. There was passion there, wasn’t there? Desire? We kissed, and it felt raw and real. We laid side-by-side opening up... it was emotional and genuine and then...
Tears fall down my cheeks and I try to wipe them away, but I’m a snotty mess. I reach for a tissue and blow my nose, hating how this feels. Like I wasn’t good enough for him.
Maybe I read it all wrong. Maybe he wasn’t looking at me like I was something special. Maybe he wasn’t looking at me at all.
I change, suddenly hating my costume, feeling like an idiot for thinking it was going to change my life. As I wash my face, I look at the girl in the mirror. I am trying so hard to be myself, to be brave and take risks. Maybe the costume is the problem. I’m hiding behind it. Trying to be Starla instead of Aubrey.
Maybe what I really need is to feel confident in my own skin, without a costume.
As I fall asleep it dawns on me. I don’t want a man who wears a mask, either. I want a man who can look at me --all of me-- and like what he sees.
The next morning, I order room service and take my time doing my hair. I’m not dressing up as Starla today, but I can still look my best. Not for any Neros that may be on the horizon--but for myself.
Jenna texts as I’m getting ready.
So, what happened???
I reply, Anti-climactic.
Oh no?! I can just imagine the worried look on her face.
It’s all good. He wasn’t who I thought he was.
New day, new start?
Exactly, I type. Love you.
As I take the elevator downstairs, I try to keep my chin up. It’s not like he and I even exchanged our real names. I have no reason to be so spun up about him... but I am. And when I walk out of the elevator, of course, the first thing I see is a Nero. And my heart does a flip-flop, thinking it’s him. But then I look closer and I notice he’s shorter, and not as built as the man who cradled me in his arms last night.
I take a deep breath, trying to clear my thoughts and walk from the hotel lobby, out the front doors to cross the street to the convention center. When I get there, I flash my weekend pass and enter, immediately noticing a throng of people waiting in line.
In a flash of luck, I see Trey and Mindy from the hotel yesterday. They are waiting in the same line as everyone else, but they are at the very end of it.
“Is there a celebrity you are waiting to meet?” I ask.
Mindy smiles. “You didn’t hear? It was all over Twitter. Braden Bentley is here for a meet-n-greet. Only people with VIP Exclusive Passes get to meet him.”
My jaw drops. No. Freaking. Way. “Are you messing with me?
“We’re not,” Jon/Trey says, then he points to the badge on the lanyard around my neck. “You should get in line with us, looks like you have the same access we do.”
“This is insanity, you know, that right?” I say, trying to collect myself. I am going to meet my celebrity crush today. Never in a million years would I have expected this.
“Where is your costume?” Mindy asks. “It would’ve been perfect for a photo.”
The woman in front of us leans back. “Actually, word on the street is Braden is in plain clothes today. Apparently, he made a big deal about not wearing his mask.”
I pull out my phone and open the camera app, facing it toward me I look at myself, thankful I spent extra time getting ready today.
“You look perfect,” Mindy says. Then elbowing her husband she says,” Doesn’t she?”
Trey laughs as we take several steps forward to move with the line. “Yes, you do. He’ll probably ask you out.”
I roll my eyes. “Actually, speaking of, remember that Nero in line yesterday? He and I met up at the bar.”
“Did you see his sword?” Mindy asks, wiggling her eyebrows.
“Um, no, but had he, I think that would have been TMI. We did just meet,” I say. “You know, it’s funny though, I feel like we’ve been friends for a long time.”
Mindy nods. “Me too. Who would have thought, meeting in line like this?”
The situation reminds me of how I met Jenna. I’m just about to tell them how I met my BFF in line at Disney, when a Fandom-Con Employee dressed in black comes out to the line, telling everyone that Braden is only seeing three more people this morning.
Everyone in line groans, including me. I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up.
But then the employee comes to the very back of the line where Mindy, Trey and I stand. “You three, come with me,” he says, waving us over.
We exchange confused looks, trying not to make eye contact with everyone around us. They are pissed and with good reason.
“It’s your lucky day,” the employee says. “Braden asked for the last three in line.”
We are ushered past the herd of people and brought into a small waiting room. There we see a camera set up. The employee explains it is so Braden is prepared for whoever is coming in next. He wants to know if it’s a screaming toddler or an obsessed fangirl.
I feel my face flush--that is so me, at least it was yesterday. Had I shown up in that Starla costume, in head to toe gear, maybe he would have rolled his eyes.
I hope not. I want him to be the kind of man who appreciates the fandom he rules.
“Are you nervous?” Trey asks.
“No,” I say. “I’m too stunned by the reality.”
“Next up, you two going in together?” the employee asks Mindy and Trey. They nod and give me a quick wave.
“We’ll see you on the other side, okay? Maybe we can grab lunch?” Mindy suggests.
“Perfect.”
They exit the waiting room and I’m left alone, nervously playing with my hair. I consider pulling out my phone to text Jenna an update, then decide not to. I don’t need her affirmation for everything I do. I’m a big girl and can do this all on my own. Besides, I’ll probably be talking her ear off for the rest of my life about this meeting. I’ll give her a few more minutes to enjoy life pre-Braden.
When I’m called in, I bite back a smile, nervous and excited all at the same time. I step through the doorway and my lady parts get all tingly. This is the man I’ve been crushing on for years. Here he is, in the flesh. He has on tight black jeans and a black tee-shirt, his thick black hair is nearly to his shoulders, and his eyes. Oh god, those eyes. They are so dark and rich that I want to melt in his chocolate fountain eyes. I could dip my marshmallow in them and let him cover me. I’d hand him my pretzel and let him dunk me any way he’d like.
“Hello?” he asks, proba
bly confused as to why I am wiping the drool from my face. If this room were a s’more I’d let him graham cracker the fuck out of me.
I make no sense, which does actually make sense. I’m literally staring at the man I am obsessed with and all I can think is wow, I wish you were a Tootsie Pop because I want to lick you all day long. And I don’t even care if I ever got to the center because your hard candy shell of a body is absolutely delicious.
I don’t know what’s up with the food metaphors. Maybe I’m starting my period. Scratch that, I know I’m not, I had it a few weeks ago. I’m probably ovulating right this second because looking at him is making my ovaries explode.
I used to be #obsessed. This, though, is a whole new level of crazy. We haven’t had a single conversation but I’m already planning on making him my fantasy-baby-daddy.
Chapter Six
Braden
She’s here, staring at me, and God, she looks beautiful. Not that she didn’t last night, but this is different. This is her, just as she is. No costume, no roleplaying, just the girl of my goddamned dreams.
The girl I left all alone last night.
Damn, she probably hates me. Or would hate me if she knew the truth.
I spent all night beating myself up for leaving like I did. But it all felt like too much, her getting to know the real me. The idea of being rejected after showing her who I really am had me running.
But then I spent a night alone and all I did was obsess about her.
Hardcore obsess. Replayed everything she said over and over, stared at the single photo I took of us in the red elevator. The only thing that would make it better was if she was willing to give me a second chance.
“Hi,” she says, licking her lips and stepping closer to me. “I’m Aubrey.” It’s hard to breathe with her so near. It’s like everything I never knew I needed. She could be my oxygen, my fuel.
“I’m Braden,” I say, trying to remain in control of myself. God, what I really want to do is to wrap my arms around her and kiss her. Hard.
“I know who you are,” she says laughing. “You’re kind of a big deal.”
“Well, it’s good to meet you officially,” I say. I had been scouring the line for her all morning. I knew if she found out I was here doing a signing, she would come. I told my manager to scout out the hottest looking Starla, and he kept reporting back that the woman I described wasn’t here. Then I told him to FaceTime me as he was scanning the crowd, so I could identify her.
There she was, at the very end of the line.
Some people might call that level of interest stalkerish. I call it love. Yes, a big fucking word, but what could this overwhelming need to be with Aubrey be called?
Now she is here, looking sweeter than honey, and God, my cock gets hard thinking how she is a pure as nectar from a blossom. Her petal has never been plucked. It’s in full bloom, for me.
I want her to know me, the real me... but as she looks at me right now, a sharp fear pierces me. What if she only wants me because she has only seen the televised version of myself? I want her to choose me, realizing I am the man she met last night.
“Want to take a photo?” I ask, wanting any excuse to press my hand to the small of her back.
She nods, her eyes bright with adoration. Did she look at me the same way last night or is all of this about the celebrity crush?
The thing is, I don’t want her to be crushing on me as a movie star, I want her to fall for me as the man I am--the man I was last night before I pulled away.
I call for the photographer and she comes from a back room. “Picture time?” she asks.
Aubrey nods. “God, this is so insane. All of this. I mean, you have no idea how much I’ve dreamed of this.”
Oh, but I think I do. I remember quite clearly the way she told me about her fantasy last night. How very interested she was in seeing my sword.
God, I want to show her so fucking badly.
We smile, pose, and it takes everything within me not to kiss her on her sweet pink lips. But I resist, waiting until the photographer is gone.
“This might sound insane,” I say, my voice low, my need driving me up the wall. “But have dinner with me tonight.”
“Really?” She laughs nervously and looks around. “Are you sure I’m the girl you are talking to?”
I step closer. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know,” she says, biting her bottom lip. “You date movie stars and models.”
“And seamstresses.”
She frowns. “How do you know that about me?”
I shrug, trying to back up and not reveal everything like this. “Lucky guess. My manager thought he saw you on the set of a TV show a client of his was in.”
“Oh.” Her eyebrows knit together. “That’s kind of weird.”
“Yeah, stranger things have happened today though.”
“Yeah? I guess. This whole thing is strange. You being here. Me getting pulled from the line. Meeting you. It’s like, all planned out or something.”
“What if it was?”
“That would be creepy. And would also mean you’ve been reading my diaries.”
“You write about me in your diaries?”
Her round cheeks flush. “Maybe?” She cringes, embarrassment surrounding her.
“Hey,” I say, lifting her chin with my finger. “Don’t get shy. Be yourself.”
Her features soften, her shoulders fall slightly. “You’re right. You know that is exactly what I told myself today. It’s why I’m not in my costume. I didn’t want to hide behind anything, including any character. I wanted to be me today, throughout.”
“Interesting,” I say, amazed by her insight, her thoughtfulness. “I had the same idea. My manager wanted me to be in my Nero getup.”
“You didn’t like that idea?” she asks.
“I wanted to be seen for who I really am.” Our eyes lock and I want her to see it, feel it, that I am hers. “So, dinner?”
“It would be weird to say no to the infamous Braden Bentley, wouldn’t it?”
“I don’t want you to say yes out of obligation.”
“What do you want then?”
“I want you to say yes out of desire. Curiosity.”
She nods. “Good answer.”
“So, what will it be?”
“Yes. I’ll go out with you tonight.”
“Then I will see you in the hotel lobby across the street at eight. Right at the bank of elevators. Be warned, there might be a crowd of onlookers.”
“Yesterday that would have terrified me,” she says.
“And today?”
She gives me a gentle shrug of her shoulders. “Now I’m brave enough to take a risk.”
“What changed?” I can’t help but ask.
“I met someone,” she says simply.
“Who is this someone?”
She closes her eyes then, ever so softly. “Just a man in a mask who broke my heart.”
I swallow, tensing. “Are you on the rebound?”
“I thought this was just a dinner invitation?”
“Do you want it to be more?”
She steps back. “Actually. No, I don’t want that.”
“What do you want?”
“I don’t want this.”
I scoff. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I can’t go out with you at all, Braden Bentley.”
Then she turns on her heel and exits the room before I can speak. Just like I did to her last night.
Chapter Seven
Aubrey
I thought I wanted Braden Bentley.
For years, this would have been the culmination of my entire life. We met. He asked me out. And in the most unexpected circumstance, I turned him down.
I said no. Turned on my heel. And left.
Because as I stood there, my heart stirred.
Whoever Nero was last night, woke something up in me that I won’t let rest. Not yet.
Maybe he got scared. M
aybe it wasn’t about me not being enough at all. Maybe it had absolutely nothing to do with me.
Sure, maybe it did.
But maybe it didn’t.
And Braden Bentley may be dazzlingly handsome, but when Nero held me in his arms I felt at peace. Centered. Whole.
I want to find him. Need to find him.
And I have literally zero clues how to go about doing that.
“What happened?” Mindy asks as I run from the room into the convention center. Tears fill my eyes and I try to wipe them away. She hurries me to a bathroom and once inside grabs me a tissue from a stall.
“It’s just... I’m a mess, Mindy. Braden just asked me out.”
“What?” Her eyes pop out from her face. Her flowy white wig is askew from running with me to the restroom. “He asked you out?”
“Yeah, just a second ago.” I blow my nose, wiping away the snot. Fifteen minutes ago, I was ready to carry his hypothetical babies and then in flash, I turned down that daydream. WTF am I thinking?
“Sweetie, then please explain the tears.”
“I just stood there and all I could think about was the guy from last night.”
“You really liked him?”
I exhale. “Not even like. It was like... more powerful. It was everything.”
“And why did it end on a bad note exactly?”
I swallow. “Because he just left. We were like... you know, getting into it and then he just ended it really abruptly.”
Mindy twists her lips. “You’re sure he liked you?”
I snort. “It would have been easier if I had seen his face, looked into his eyes. But he was wearing the mask the whole time.”
Mindy laughs. “You’re not serious?”
I groan. “I know. It’s all so weird. But like... it was kinda sexy. He was pretending to be Nero and I was his Starla.” I drop my face in my hands. “Does that sound pathetic?”
Mindy places her hands on my shoulders. “Are you kidding me? I forced my husband into a costume with a cape and all. I’m into roleplaying. With dragons. You’re not pathetic, you’re having fun.”
