Page 63 of Marked By Shadows

Freya:We haven’t really taken the time for that. Let’s get together this afternoon.

I wasn’t sure I would have the energy this afternoon. Not after the convention and whatever drugs keeping me moving right now had worn off.

Freya:We have a bunch of group activities planned for the week.

I knew that, though I wasn’t really looking forward to it. Spending hours brainstorming over costumes used to be fun. Now I wondered if I’d be looking at everyone as suspects. Which of them were dangerous? Was it all in my head? We really hadn’t had confirmation that they had done anything yet. Seeing ghosts wasn’t an exact science, so how could we be sure we weren’t misled.

Alex gripped my hand; his brow rose in question. Obviously my mood was on my face.

“Just arguing with Freya about group time,” I told him.

“Tell her you’ll get back to her after we are done wandering the convention today. You need to focus on your plans for the store. That’s why you paid extra, right?”

And leave it to Alex to be very clear. I nodded, and told Freya exactly that. She shot back something about me returning to design and modeling, but I shoved my phone in my pocket to ignore her. One problem at a time. Apparently, I would have to sit down with the group and explain that while I may do some costumes and even an occasional photoshoot, I would not be returning as an influencer of any kind.

Surprisingly, just before we got inside, we ran into MaryAnn. She waved a hello. It was odd to see her alone, though I didn’t think she and Chad were a thing, only good friends who happened to live close to each other. They were together a lot of the time.

“Hey,” I greeted her.

“Morning, wow your face looks bad. Are you okay?”

I flinched. Alex squeezed my hand. “He’s a little bruised but fine. I didn’t know any of you guys were coming to this early open thing.”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve been working with a company on some fabric design. Apparel really. Been doing testing for them.” MaryAnn held up a garment bag. “Have a few finished pieces with their new line to display. Plan to talk to a few of the techs and designers to give feedback. I’ll be spending a lot of time in their booth over the week talking about the designs I did. Even have a couple patterns up for sale.”

“Wow, I didn’t know you had branched out,” I told her.

“I think I’m getting tired of the scene,” MaryAnn admitted. “Still get a lot of likes and follows when I do one of my morphing videos and go through a half dozen costumes. But it’s a lot of work for little payoff. I’ve had a few designers over the years approach me with ideas. This was the first fabric one that I really liked.”

“Sponsorship is good,” I said, remembering my influencer days. Ad clicks and sponsors were how we made money and expanded our user groups.

“I’ve been a purist too long. Since I have a regular job, it was fine. But I really love the transition of characters. Been teaching classes back home to kids just learning how to cosplay. And doing one of those work design programs that help low income people get jobs.”

“Sounds more satisfying than being some online caricature,” Alex said.

We got to the door and showed our IDs, getting our specialty lanyards, indicating we were industry rather than public. MaryAnn’s was the same. Hers sponsored by a company I’d been seeing pop-up more and more lately in apparel fabric.

“I hope so,” MaryAnn said. She turned toward us and gave a little wave. “I’ve got to head to the booth and get set up. See you guys later, okay?”

“Sure,” I agreed.

“Definitely,” Alex said. We watched her walk away. Alex looked around the giant convention center, his eyes wide. “Holy fuck this is huge.”

“A lot of ground to cover,” I said.

“Okay, do we start walking or do you have a plan?”

“Start walkingismy plan,” I told him.

His gaze was locked on a center area which arched the length of the convention center with an open space of machines. Hundreds of them. “I didn’t know there was even that many sewing machines in the world.”

“Do you want to hang out with the machines while I search fabric?”

“No. I want to look at fabric with you.”

His answer made me do an internal sigh of relief since I hadn’t really wanted to wander alone. There was something about exploring a convention with someone who mattered to you. An edge of joy experiencing something with someone else. I reached for his hand and he took mine, and we picked a direction. “But we can look at the machines before we leave, right?” Alex asked.

“Of course.” I had thought of trying to find a quality mid-arm for sewing, especially since Alex seemed to be really good at it. We went right first, heading down the first row in a slow stroll of appraisal, happy to be together, and a keen eye for anything good.