I didn’t sleep for the next two days. I was too busy. I bought a small notebook at a gas station on the way to Fantasticon, and any moment I had, I was busy scribbling in it. Both Sam and Melissa noticed, but neither asked why. I was too far in the zone to have answered anyway.

I was still wide awake when we made it to Fantasticon. The doors of the hotel parted, and I was immediately put at ease. It was loud with the sound of hundreds of conversations, blindingly bright from all of the costumes, and smelled vaguely of sweat and insomnia, but I didn’t care. These were my people. I was home.

As soon as we arrived, Melissa was off like a shot. “Love you both,” she said apologetically, “but I’ve been waiting all year for this!” She looked around, and I heard her cry, “DANA! Oh my God, girl, hey!” before running off into the crowd.

“My favorite thing about her is how loyal she is,” Sam commented, and I smirked.

We found Damien upstairs and away from the action. After an introduction, Sam politely excused himself to put our luggage in our room so I could talk to my agent. “Man, I have so much to tell you,” I told Damien.

“So do I,” he said. There were purple bags under his eyes, but he looked significantly calmer than I’d expected, so it was a win. “I guess you should go first, though.”

I dug into the backpack slung over my shoulder and pulled out a notebook. “Check this out.”

He flipped through the pages. “Holy shit. Is this what I think it is?”

“It is.”

He stared. He flipped through it again a few more times, looking over my chicken scratch. Then he grinned at me. “You magnificent bastard.”

I just smugly plucked the notebook out of his hand. “I know.”

“You know you can’t mention this, right?”

“I know. Don’t worry, the panel will be extra boring this year.”

He chuckled. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, pal.”

If there’s one thing I’ve always known how to do, it’s bore people.

That’s probably not a great quality for a writer to have, but it was something I was decent at, and it made subterfuge particularly easy. At the panel, that was all I needed.

It was a smaller crowd than expected, but it was fun. I talked about my foray into fanfiction, which made Damien blanch. The fans asked a lot of stock questions, like what projects I was working on and whether I’d made any new “commitments,” which was their way of asking if book five was done. “There’s some stuff happening, but I can’t really comment,” I said. “It’s not set in stone yet.” I looked at Sam in the crowd and smiled. “I’m pretty sure it’s going to stick, but I want to take my time with it.”

He ducked his head to try to hide his grin.

Overall, though, it was unexceptional. It was a lot more fun to roam the floor with Sam and watch him take everything in, his eyes wide as dinner plates as we looked over comics, indie movies, panels, games, and the small shopping center set up every year. Sam fretted over his wallet at the first booth before I snatched it out of his hand and laid my own money down for it. “Are you sure?” he kept asking. “You don’t need to do this.”

That was his mantra for the entire weekend, but I shut him down every time. We went to every panel he expressed even some mild interest in, bought everything he glanced at, and even played real-life Mario Kart, which ended in both hysterical laughter and a lot of bruises. “I feel a little bad that we didn’t do anything you wanted,” he told me as we were heading out Sunday with Melissa zonked out in the backseat like a child who had gotten overexcited at Disney World.

“Sam, I’ve been to this thing for years. I’ll probably be doing it until I die.” I shrugged. “Besides, you only got to go for three days, instead of the entire week you were supposed to have there. I owed it to you. You know, as a fan.” I gave him a wink, and he rolled his eyes.

“Wow. I become your boyfriend, and this is the kind of treatment I get?”

We hadn’t mentioned our relationship status officially, but my heart jumped with joy at the word “boyfriend.” I shrugged. “Sorry, man. You’re the one who agreed to the terms. You’re stuck with me now.”

He smiled and kissed the back of my hand. “I think I can deal with that.”

“Get a room!” Melissa groaned from the back, and we both smiled.

Almost a year later, there had still been virtually no coverage of my panel. Normally, fan sites swarmed to those sorts of stories, but I hadn’t really given them anything.

Not even when I had something to give.

I was sitting in the kitchen, pacing nervously, when Sam came home from class, looking exhausted but happy. He’d switched his major shortly before moving in with me. He had started working on a creative writing degree. “Practical is good,” he’d said, “but I don’t know if I want to do the safe thing anymore.” He bit at the inside of his cheek. “Does that sound dumb?”

I kissed him. “Not at all, babe,” I’d said fondly, stroking his cheek. “Go for it. You’re going to be amazing.”

So far, I’d been proven right.

“How was class?” I asked, standing tall and hoping he wouldn’t notice that my hands were hidden behind my back.

“Good. Tiring, but good.” He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and chugged it. It seemed less like he’d gotten home from class and more like he’d just run a marathon. “It would be better if the people in class realized that putting a deranged killer in their pieces was less interesting than they think, but I’ll take what I can get for now.”

“Mm, yeah,” I said distractedly. “That sounds rough.”

“Yeah, it is.” He turned and looked at me. I pulled the most innocent face I could, but it must have been unconvincing, because he rolled his eyes. “Okay, Mr. Subtle. What are you doing?”

“Who? Me?”

“No, I’m talking to my other shady-ass boyfriend.” He rolled his eyes. “Yes, you! What are you hiding?”

“Oh, it’s nothing special.” I rocked forward onto my tiptoes. “It’s just a little present.”

He sighed. “I love you, Lance, but you have to stop buying me shit. We’re going to run out of room.”

“It’s a literal mansion. I think we’re fine on space.” He wasn’t wrong that I’d been spoiling him, but it was fun. Plus, it took up all the empty room that was left in the absence of all of Paul’s old boxes of junk. “And this isn’t anything big or extravagant, I swear. It was actually free.”

He raised a dubious eyebrow, but he smiled, leaning over the counter and looking at me. “Okay, fine. You have my interest.”

“I hoped so.” I leaned in. “Kiss first?”

“Greedy,” he teased, but he acquiesced. When I pulled away, he asked, “So do I get my present now?”

“Now who’s greedy?” I grumbled. But I slid the item across the counter anyway.

He just stared, looking from the book in front of him back to me. “Are you serious?” he gasped. “Like...Are you serious?!”

“Yup. First copy, too. I can get you a special edition if you want, but I figured you’d want one just to read.”

“This is amazing!” He half leapt across the counter to sweep me up in his arms, accidentally pulling me tight against the counter, but I didn’t care. He released me and stared at the book reverently. “I can’t believe it. I knew it was coming soon, but still. I can’t believe I get to read it!”

“So...good gift?” I asked.

“Incredible. The best. I literally can’t imagine a better one.”

“Good.” I fiddled with the hem of my shirt. “And you’re not going to be disappointed?”

“How could I ever, babe? I’ve waited for this for six years!” It was a sign of how much he loved me that he actually set the book down before kissing me again. “This is incredible. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” I took the copy of The Fifth Book of Veracity: The Schism and placed it in his hands. “Now go. Read. Enjoy yourself.”

He took off up the stairs and I watched him go with a grin. Maybe I’m not such a shit writer after all, I thought. Maybe I just needed the right inspiration.