“Hey, this movie delay isn’t on me,” Goldie said. It was useless to try to argue with this mob.
“You’re a hag!!!!!”
Goldie looked confused, hurt, and like a deer in the headlights.
“Tally, grab her stuff,” Libby said as she took charge. She put an arm around Goldie and tried to shield her from the debris now coming their way in irregular intervals.
It looked like old movie posters of Goldie’s, a stuffed animal from the animated feature she’d voiced, and food.
“Good Lord, someone’s setting my poster on fire.”
The smell of smoke started to permeate the room. An alarmwent off.
“We need to go.” Libby wasn’t taking no for an answer now.
Goldie was stunned, in shock, and it appeared that she was paralyzed by the unfolding fanboy chaos coming her way. This woman was used to being adored, Libby realized.
She needed to get Goldie moving.
“Where in the heck is Hollis?” Tally said. As though the crowd would hold off until the beefy security guard arrived.
Libby looked at Goldie. Her Botox had apparently broken loose because her face was no longer a smooth mask of dewy glamour but more like a contorted caricature of shock.
“Elizabeth Gould, snap out of it. We need to haul ass like the groundskeeper’s chasing us off the ninth green.”
That did it. Goldie shook her head and blinked. “Yeah, let’s go.”
Libby weaved around the other celebrities, who had the protection of security teams.
She guided them back behind the backdrop of the autograph stations. The swell of the crowd would knock those things down if it got any uglier.
“There, there’s the exit!” Tally yelled.
Libby saw it.
“Get Goldie Gone, Get Goldie Gone!” The chant got closer.
Libby looked back toward the roped-off area. It was now overrun with angry fans of the VSU.
“This way!” They heard a deep voice call to them and motion them over.
It was Hollis, Goldie’s driver. He had a service door propped open. The door led to the backstage area of the hall. Convention-goers didn’t have access to the bowels of the building, thank goodness, thought Libby.
Hollis held the door with one hand and had his phone out with the other.
Libby wondered for a split second why he’d be doing that,taking pictures. But it passed out of her brain in favor of the survival instinct to get Goldie out of there.
They nearly sprinted for five more minutes until they found themselves at the loading dock. Goldie’s car was waiting.
Hollis opened the car door, and the three women piled in. They were silent, working to manage their heart rates, and Tally kept looking out the rear window of the SUV.
As they drove away from the convention, Libby glanced at Goldie as her old friend processed the last few minutes.
“They are usually clamoring at that thing, but it’s to be nice to me, to tell me their favorite movie.”
“Well, looking at Twitter, it appears Trevor has weaponized his fan base. It’s all your fault they’re not getting what they want,” Tally said.
“Are you okay?” Libby put her hand out and squeezed Goldie’s.
