Scanning our tickets, we walk through the doors of Madison Square Garden. The electric energy hits us as soon as we walk into the arena. Loud music and shouts from the rowdy crowd carry throughout the expansive space and drown out the thoughts spinningaround my head. There is a noticeable chill in the air, but compared to the temperature outside, it’s comfortable, and I can feel my hands beginning to defrost.
Near the doors, workers are set up next to two life-sized cutouts of two Crowns players. The man on the right I don’t recognize, but the one on the left is Everett.
“Fuck, even the cardboard version of him is hot,” Andi says, running up to the cutout and posing next to it for a selfie. “Maybe you should ditch the rat and give him a chance.” She gestures toward the cutout with her thumb and then begins typing on her phone.
“Okay, for one, I told you I’m with Raph. For two, I barely have time to sleep with one guy let alone two, and for three, for all I know Everett’s married with a baby. It’s not like I keep tabs on him.”
Except I do, and according to his socials and the news, he’s definitely not married with a baby.
“Oh, no…” She laughs. “I meant the cardboard cutout, not the real person, but I’m glad to know you’re wondering if Everett is single.”
“You’re lucky that we’re blood, or I would kill you.”
“Trading cards?” one of the workers asks, interrupting us.
“Oh, um,” I stammer, taking in her appearance and name. Her pink hair is styled in two french braids, and a name tag that readsStellais pinned to her shirt, causing me to freeze. Star tattoos trail up her right arm and disappear under the sleeve of her work-issued polo. Around her neck is a gold chain holding a moon-shaped pink crystal. “No, thank you. We’re cheering on the Rats tonight.”
“Come on.” Stella smiles, holding out a silver packet of cards. “You’re in luck. There’s only one set left. Looks like it was meant to be.” The skin around her eyes creases, despite her young age, and her violet eyes seem to sparkle as she looks at me, daring me to take the card pack.
Reaching my hand out, I take it from her at the same time a group of obnoxious Rats fans barrel in chanting something. One of the men, not paying attention, pushes me into the Everett cutout, causing it to topple over and my purse to fly out of my hand. Lipstick, my wallet, my phone, a bottle of ibuprofen, and my keys spreadacross the floor.
“Shit,” he yells, stumbling past us without stopping and kicking my keys further away.
“What a dick! Are you alright?” Andi asks, assessing me for any sign that he may have hurt me, but he didn’t.
“I’m fine. Just help me grab all of this stuff before something gets lost.” We both bend down and frantically begin collecting my belongings. The crowd is huge, and people are coming and going in every direction. It feels incredibly overwhelming as I try to dodge being stepped on and account for all of my things.
“You know this wouldn’t have happened if Raph had gotten us in with the rest of the WAGS,” my sister shouts, making her way towards my keys.
“Point made,” I bite out, grabbing a tube of lipstick from the floor.
“Here you go,” I hear a feminine voice say behind me. Still crouched down, I look over my shoulder to find the young Stella holding my purse.
“Thank you,” I say, grabbing my bag and placing my things inside.
“You dropped these too,” young Stella says, handing me the pack of trading cards.
She moves to pick up the cutout of Everett. “Let me help you with that,” I offer.
We work together to stand it up. I must’ve damaged it when I was pushed into it because the right arm is now cracked near the shoulder.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, running my hand over the damage. “If I need to pay for this I can. Can I give you my number or something?”
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she says, smiling again. “These things are easily fixed. Enjoy the game.”
“Are you sure?”
She nods and turns away, continuing to greet entering spectators.
Linking arms with my sister, I attempt to shake the sense that I’ve met this Stella before, but that seems impossible.
Right?
Right.
We maze through the crowd, only stopping to grab a bag of peanut M&Ms and a beer for Andi and popcorn and a water for me.
“Wow, these are great,” my sister chimes, moving past a few fans already seated in our row.
