registration with my name, picture, and level of ticket on it. The organizers went all out with the fancy tags and lanyards. This sucker is even laminated. Of course with how expensive it would have been to purchase if I didn’t “know people,” they better provide fancy little perks.
“Okay, Celeste. Thank you so much.” The volunteer, whose name is Klarissa judging by her name tag, drops the clipboard and picks up a paper bag, shaking it. “When you go in the room, there is a round table with ten chairs. Each chair is numbered randomly. Whatever number you pull out of this bag, that’s the chair you are to sit in. Make sense?”
I snicker. “That’s to make sure there aren’t any catfights over sitting next to the star, isn’t it?”
“Smart and prompt. You may be my favorite fan yet.”
Klarissa holds out the bag and I dig in, not having any real preference on where I sit. If I’m across from Hunter Stone, I’ll be able to make eye contact. If I sit next to him, I’ll be able to smell him. Actually, that’s probably a bad idea. Being in his presence already made me fumble my words. I don’t need to fall out of the chair too.
I pull out the square paper and hand it to Klarissa. “Number nine! Head on in and make yourself comfortable at the number nine chair.”
I do as instructed and enter the room, leaving her to deal with the other fans that have finally found the room. Locating my assigned seat, I settle in and wait, content to go over my schedule once more.
11:30 – Meet and Greet with Hunter Stone in room 413D. DO NOT BE LATE.
12:15 – Short lull to shop and grab lunch. Must get free t-shirt then.
1:00 – Meet in convention hall for panel discussion with writers and directors. Take notes.
2:00 – Photo op with Hunter Stone in room 123A. DO NOT BE LATE.
3:30 – Meet in convention hall for panel discussion with actors. Unknown if Hunter Stone will be there. Arrive early for a close seat.
Content that everything is in order, I flip the page of my notebook to one that is blank and ready for me to take notes. Sitting back in my chair, I cross my ankles and watch the others as they begin to file into the room. So far, eight of the ten chairs are filled. That means either Hunter Stone will be sitting right across from me, or…
Right next to me.
Deep breathes, Celeste. He’s just a person. The most talented, super-hot person. But that’s beside the point. Stay focused. Concentrate on the older woman on the other side of the table. Why is she wiggling her ass at us? Is that… yep. Someone signed her ass. Poor bastard.
Suddenly, another woman, because that seems to be the vast majority of the convention participants, comes racing through the door.
“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she says through deep pants. “I got chatting with Michael Ornaste and, well, you all know how he is when he gets going.”
The other women nod their heads. I, on the other hand, have never met the star of the show so I wouldn’t know how long-winded he may be. But I am wondering how I ended up with the guest pass and she didn’t if she knows him.
Glancing up, I catch Klarissas’s eye and she gives me a look that screams, “I told you so.”
I don’t have time to respond though. A young guy with weird 80s glasses comes sauntering and behind him…
Holy shit, Hunter Stone is here.
And why do I keep referring to him by his full name?
That’s weird. Stop it, Celeste.
I will my brain to quit calling him by his full name and my heart to stop beating erratically by continually reminding myself he’s just a man. The man of all my theater-loving fantasies, but a man, nonetheless.
“Hunter!” the woman who arrived late says as she immediately wraps her arms around him, pulling her flush against her. Hunter Sto—Hunter doesn’t resist which makes me wonder, yet again, how I’m the one with the guest pass.
“Martha,” he greets kindly, his arms draped around her. I’ve never been jealous of another woman getting a hug, but I admit, the feeling is running through me right now. “How long as it been? A month since the last con?”
“You remember.” Martha is clearly delighted. “St. Louis. And a couple months before that in New York. And don’t forget San Antonio.”
“I couldn’t forget San Antonio if