smudged and transferred onto my skin. Shit. I try to decipher the more illegible notes, try to remember what I wanted to say. I can’t remember and oh my God, I am going to blank out. Right here. Onstage. Okay, it’s not a stage. It’s like an elevated platform. But still. What is my name? What does OTP even stand for? I don’t know anything. I don’t—
Celeste swipes the cards out of my hand, crumples them in a ball, and drops them on the floor.
“I get it,” she whispers. “I almost passed out before my first panel from the nerves. But you’ll sound rehearsed. Notecards mess with your brand authenticity.”
I dig my fingernails into my palms. “Um. Okay.”
“You be you,” she says. “Trust me, that’s why everyone is here.”
“Not the cupcakes?” I ask.
She smiles, surprised. “Okay, mostly the cupcakes.”
Microphone feedback echoes through the speakers. Stella stands and everyone claps and I’ve been to enough panels in my life to know that this is how it begins. It is happening, the moment that defined my senior year, the hour I’ve been counting down to since an email landed in my inbox six months ago. This day has been so hyped in my brain—I don’t know how to process the fact that it is happening, actually.
“Welcome to the first Bloggers IRL panel! This year, BookCon invited six of the most innovative book bloggers to—”
My phone lights up on my thigh. A notification. From Nash.
It takes everything in me to flip my phone so it’s facedown. He’s not here. So I can’t be distracted by him. Not now.
It’s panel time.
Each blogger introduces themselves, starting with Tara because she’s seated next to Stella. I’m fourth to go, and I stumble through my introduction, in which I try to sound goofy and whimsical. I think I succeed, but blank out immediately after, so it’s impossible to tell.
Stella asks her questions and I answer when it’s my turn. I cannot wipe the stupid smile off my face as I am thrown questions about blogging and cupcakes and being a teen voice in YA and even Fireflies and You and handling controversy on social media. Stella smiles at my answers, people laugh at my jokes, and I am killing it.
The first few questions, I ask myself, What would Kels say?
But honestly? I don’t have to try so hard.
I am the Kels that everyone expects me to be, and she doesn’t feel like a persona anymore. I hope Nash is here to see that. I hope he sees me. The girl who will forever avoid The Lord of the Rings fandom, who will talk books with him anytime, who will bake the most extra cupcakes because they may be for eating, but they’re also for stress relief and brand building. The girl who is good at bowling but bad at finding the right words.
The girl who loves him.
I wasted an entire school year justifying the differences between my digital friendship with Nash and my IRL friendship—but were they ever that different? Really?
I don’t think so.
I hope Nash doesn’t think so either.
#BookCon
BookCon BookCon 2hr
AFTERNOON REMINDER! Follow #BookCon all day to stay up-to-date on all events and win swag!
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Lana Lana_and_Lola 15min
HI EVERYONE OneTruePastry IS THE ACTUAL SWEETEST, JUST FYI #BookCon
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Lana Lana_and_Lola 13min
ALSO, Nash_Stevens27 WILL DRAW FOR YOU #BookCon
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Lana Lana_and_Lola 10min
And … I think Nash_Stevens27 & OneTruePastry are okay? I MEAN, HE’S AT HER PANEL RN SO?!?! #BookCon
[47 comments] [125 ] [532 ]
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Elle Carter ellewriteswords 42s
WHAT #BookCon
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Samira Lee s_lee244 37s
#OTP #BookCon
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Amy Chen AmysBookshelf 25s
PLZ LET THIS BE TRUE #BookCon
TWENTY-EIGHT
I have one final question for Kels before we start taking audience questions.”
Stella bats her eyelashes at me—which means whatever comes next will slay me.
“In this community, there’s a lot of discussion of maintaining a brand identity and authenticity in these online communications. We all know you and love you as Kels—so I think a lot of people are wondering, who is Halle Levitt, and why share your identity now?”
Silence reverberates throughout the conference room.
Before the panel, Stella assured me that she’d avoid any questions regarding the Halle/Kels situation. I should’ve known she was full of shit. I guess in a way I kind of did, as I had an answer prepared on my crumpled-up notecards just in case. But Celeste was right: I don’t need them.
“The way I look at it, Kels is my pen name. I don’t regret that—I never have. Lots of people create under pen names. Blogging as Kels gave me a platform and a community that never would’ve