My newest challenge appears as I walk into the Convention Centre a week later. Erin accompanies me to set up my stall, but when I see the blank trestle table, crammed amongst the others in the echoing hall, I freak. My feet itch to run in the other direction. Did Erin come with me in case I did? Around me, seasoned sellers arrange their items, and I take surreptitious glances at their set up.

Tables fill with artwork, crafted items, memorabilia for all pop cultures, not only Japanese.

“I’m not prepared,” I whisper to Erin. “Look at him.”

I point at a young Asian guy nearby whose business cards stack neatly next to his black artwork folders. His back to me, he pins examples onto the partition behind, and attaches notices between the images, stating prices and ‘3 for 2’ offers. Unsure how much to charge, I brought Sharpies and cards to write on, but little else apart from my pictures.

“Omigod, Erin. I really haven’t planned this properly.”

“Don’t stress.”

“I don’t even have anything to attach pictures to the wall! And no business cards. I’m such an amateur.” A girl at the table besides me, busy setting out wares, looks over at my rising hysteria.

“Evie, calm down. We’ve got this.” Lips pursed, she sits on one of the two seats behind the black-clothed table and writes on card. “Everybody has special offers. You do the same.”

“Right.” Shaking, I watch as Erin takes over, selecting samples of my work and asking a neighbouring stall holder for pins before arranging them neatly behind.

I’m between two stalls—one girl selling handcrafted jewellery featuring pop culture items popular with the anime crowd too. The Con attracts fans across fandoms and many exhibitors include items from Doctor Who, Supernatural and other shows with big followings. I eye up a cute pair of TARDIS earrings to buy for Erin as a thank you.

My rushing pulse and clammy hands calm as the hour passes before visitors are allowed into the Con. Erin spends a few minutes furiously texting somebody while I straighten the folders over and over.

“You remembered a sign, that’s good.” Erin sets down her phone and indicates the A3 card featuring a graphic design with my name, which I made when I first began selling. Under Erin’s managerial eye, I began to list on Etsy too. I joke she’s wanting a cut of my profits but she smiled and said ‘anything to help.’

“Who were you texting?” I ask.

“Cole.” She pushes a strand of hair from her face where it’s fallen across her cheek.

“How’re things with him?”

Erin looks ahead, watching the early arrivals as they begin their trawl through the stalls. “Good. Thanks.”

We’ve spoken about her and Cole, and she’s admitted they’ve taken the next step into their relationship. They must’ve been concreted in place to not take the step in the last five years. They’re no longer secret, thanks to Cole’s accidental endearment last week, but the news remains between the four of us. As has Tyler’s indiscretion remained between him and me.

Yep. Double-awkwardness online after that night. Thorsday and Deleet both logged on and played silently alone. I snuck a look at Thorsday’s progress and he’s catching up. I hit max level in the new content, and circled back to help Tyler. Things return to normal—between me and Tyler, anyway.

“I’m happy for you,” I tell Erin, and she responds with the small smile and shiny-eyed look that doubles my happiness for her.

“Early days.”

“Serious? Years?”

“Funny how I never noticed how he felt.”

I jab her hand with my pen. “You’re clueless.”

My first customers approach and I summon a friendly smile, which to my mind looks psychotic thanks to the nerves. A guy in a yellow wig and a white suit, and a girl with a pink wig and tiny dress flick through my book, and they point out to each other images they like.

“Cool pictures, dude.” The guy says and the girl nods in agreement as they select purchases.

Transaction complete, I stare after them. Someone bought something. From me. Sure, I’ve worked in a store for years but selling my own creations face to face—different.

“Wow.”

“I hope you brought lots of copies,” remarks Erin and writes in a notebook.

I crane my head. “What? Are you my accountant too?”

“Hey, I need to figure out my cut.” She shakes her head and picks up her phone as a message alert sounds. Erin stands and looks around, between exchanged texts. Puzzled by her behaviour, I return to my sales role.

The numbers grow, drifting from stall to stall, some stopping at mine, others not. I’m distracted by people’s costumes, annoyed I’ll miss watching the cosplay competition. I’ve chosen both days for the stall. A little ambitious maybe, but now a good plan.

A tall, familiar figure squeezes between two people at my stall. Cole. He holds out a bag to Erin and edges behind the table.

And kisses her cheek.

“This is getting weird now, guys,” I say. “And there isn’t enough room for you both behind here.”

With Cole’s arrival, panic rises. Erin’s about to leave me on my own. She opens the white plastic bag and hands me a pair of scissors from inside, before dragging out sheets of card.

“Ta da!” she announces.

“What’s this?”

“Cole made them.” She smiles up at him. “If you cut these into squares, they’re business cards.”

“They have my phone number on!” I half shriek.

“And?”

“People might call me.”

Cole sighs. “Want me to cross that out? On all 200 cards?”

Erin narrows her eyes at me and I sit onto the chair. “No. Thank you for bringing these.”

“I’m taking Erin to grab something to eat. Want anything?” asks Cole.

“All good.” My churning stomach could not handle food right now.

“You okay if we go?” asks Erin and places a hand on my arm.

“Sure. I have card to cut.” I hold out the scissors. “A lot of card.”

“We’ll help when we get back,” Cole says.

“Take your time,” I lie.

The growing numbers block space and oxygen, despite the tall convention centre ceiling adding echo. My nerves drop as the hours passed, and without anybody to chat to I’m happy to have something for my hands to do.

I cut the cards as best I can but the edges remain wonky. At least the logo looks semi-professional, anyway. Mental note: proper business cards if I do this again.

A rush of customers later, and I check my phone. Erin left with Cole over an hour ago. Okay, they interpreted my ‘take your time’ as literal. I know Tyler and Spencer intend to visit and promised to seek me out, but who knows if they’ll find me?

My stomach rumbles, reminding me skipping breakfast due to sheer terror wasn’t a good idea. I pull a muesli bar from my bag and crunch as I spend a few minutes admiring the costumes passing.

The atmosphere matches that of any Con. Laid back, friendly with an energy filling the hallway that manages to negate the fact people are in closer proximity than usual. I’d lay bets some are like me and this is a rare day out for them.

Erin agreed to take over the stall for a while later, allowing me a walk around others, and I’m eager to see if they have anything new to waste my hard-earned profits on.

“Do you have any pictures featuring unicorns?”

I glance up from my task and jerk when I see who’s speaking, almost cutting myself.

Aaron.

Bloody douchebag Aaron looking bloody annoyingly hot. I tense my jaw, against him and words that can’t be spoken without freaking out the people around us. Aaron looks older somehow, the lines around his eyes pronounced through tiredness, mouth straight as if he hasn’t smiled for a while. He’s guarded, arms crossed, not engaging with people around. Aaron fits in with his well-worn Fairy Tail tee, a nod to the anime show.

“No. Sorry.” I return to my task, but attempts to cut a straight line are pointless now that my hands shake.

“Okay, I’ll take a look through your folder. Have you anything new since I last saw your work?”

A girl dressed in normal clothes leafs through my artwork, back and forth, for several excruciating minutes while Aaron stands close by. I sneak a look at him when he’s gazing around, his arms crossed, and his appearance confuses me.

“On your own?” I ask him as the girl finally backs away. Without bloody buying anything.

He blows air into his cheeks as he opens the folder onto the first page. “Yes. You?”

“Erin’s around. She’ll be back soon.”

He nods and slowly turns to the next page, as my blood drains from my head. “This is new. Your work gets better.”

The other person studying the pictures on the board behind me wanders off.

“Why are you here?” I hiss.

He looks up, fixing me with those damn irresistible eyes, and the lost look grips my stupid heart. “I need to talk to you and I didn’t want to do this online.”

“Do this? You came all the way to Perth to talk to me?”

“No. I’m staying in Perth currently.”

I swallow and look back to my card, squeezing back unwarranted tears. In Perth. Again.

“Currently?”

“The last few weeks. I didn’t think you wanted to talk to me, but I need—”

He’s interrupted by someone asking the price for four pictures behind me, and I switch my focus away from the man I don’t want to see, but have ached to for weeks. When I look back over, he’s disappeared.

My skin heats with angry frustration.

“Dude, you look pissed off. What happened? Did someone steal from you?” Cole appears and sets a soda can in front of me. “For you.”

Erin returns to her spot behind the table. “Why are you pale? Have you eaten? I told you not to skip breakfast.”

“Yes, mum.” She flicks my nose. “No. I just saw a ghost, that’s all.”

She blinks in confusion.

“Aaron.”

“What the hell? Where? If I see the bloody asshole, I’ll have plenty to say to him,” she retorts in a loud voice.

“Are you talking about me?” I snap my head up to see Aaron’s reappeared at the table.

Erin jumps and clutches at her heart. “Shit, you’re sneaky! And, yes, I was.”

“Can I speak to Evie first?” he asks her. “Then you’re welcome to say whatever you want to me.”

Erin fumbles with the cards, stacking them into neat piles. “Um. Sorry. That was rude. This is between you and her.”

I cringe. Does Erin realise she’s giving away how upset I am over the whole situation? Because I’d rather she kept her mouth shut.

Look at us: one big, happy, geeky family.

“Jesus, guys, there’re more of you than customers around my table.” I wave a hand to indicate Cole and Aaron should step to one side. Cole does, and a guy slides through.

Aaron doesn’t, remaining in place. “I’m a customer.”

Please go away.

“Can we talk?”

“I’m busy. Not sure if you noticed.”

“Cool, I’ll come back later then.” The expression tells me one thing. Aaron’s not leaving me alone until I speak to him.