I bristle, recalling our last argument. “You know, I wasn’t enforcing silence when I had the ice cream social. My silencedidn’t enter into your garage and make it impossible for you to hear the metal show.”
“No. But you are willing to rally the entire block against us. Bikers deserve a place of their own, too.”
“No one said you don’t!”
I’m breathing heavily. Somehow, Riley and I have moved closer to each other, and I see the flush across his cheeks as he glares at me.
Two minutes ago, I was lost in geeky bliss, but just a glimpse of him and I’m ready to scream.
“You make me want to…” He trails off as his nostrils flare. “You make me want to...”
The door opens behind us, and a woman dressed as an orc comes in, followed immediately by the director of the show. Heinrich Zimmerman sports a tweed suit jacket, tight on his slim frame, and his bald head shines under the hotel light.
“It’s time for the panel,” the woman says brightly and glances at her clipboard. “The creator of the iconic and controversial showGalaxy Demons, Mr. Zimmerman is here to answer all your burning questions, including long-simmering rumors about that canceled feature-length reunion special.”
The director stares at us, mouth slightly agape. “Two people? There are only two fans in the audience?”
Riley crosses his arms over his chest. “Don’t assume we’re both fans.”
“This isn’t an anonymous message board,” I say, flabbergasted. “This poor director didn’t come here to listen to all your critiques.”
“He should be so lucky.” Riley frowns at the director. “Maybe you’d learn a thing or two about tone. And pacing! And setting expectations!”
“It is a show about demons on spaceships. The whole point is to have fun being ridiculous, which is exactly what he did.”I give the director an encouraging smile and two thumbs-up. “Expectation fulfilled. I loved it.”
Riley doesn’t drop it, and turns to talk directly to Heinrich Zimmerman. “The worldbuilding in season one was intricate and surprising. Why go through all of that if you’re just going to throw it out the window for a season two love triangle?”
“I am zero percent surprised that you hate the love triangle,” I blurt out.
“It was superfluous.”
“No. It was charming and delightful, and it added emotional depth.”
“Oh god,” Zimmerman says. “This is even worse than the time I got stuck in an elevator with those television critics.” He pulls his nametag off and hands it to the woman next to him. “I’m done. I’m out!” he declares and races out the door.
The woman slaps her hand to her forehead. “I can’t believe this happened again,” she mutters before shooting her eyes to us. “Well, I hope you enjoyed the panel. Make sure to clear the room in a couple hours. A crew will arrive then to set up the evening Magic tournament.”
She exits just as quickly, and Riley and I are left standing next to each other, both fuming.
I’m not sure why I’m still here. I should turn on my heel and exit, too. But the frustration from the last weeks is boiling over, all the conflicting emotions tingling like electricity through my body. The fact that Riley has been basically reiterating NotAnOgre’s opinion ofGalaxy Demonsonly adds to the turmoil in my brain.
Damn it, on top of everything else, I’m turned on right now!
“You terrorized that director,” I tell him, “but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised!”
Riley growls. “He shouldn’t do a panel if he doesn’t want to hear opinions.”
“You’re treating the con just like you treat the gayborhood. Your experience is the only one that matters.”
“Me? Because you’re hot and well-liked, you think you own all of Allentown.”
I scoff, but I feel a blush rise. “I’m hot? Well you think you’re the stud of the garage.”
“The stud of the garage?”
“I see the way you strut around that place. I’ve been watching you from across the street.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve been watching you, too!”
