“I’m glad I can help,” I tell her.
She sighs. “It all feels disingenuous, you know? I really don’t like this. And I feel like my hands are tied and I don’t have a choice.”
“You do, though,” I tell her. “We could absolutely go against the studio and post something.”
She lets out a humorless laugh. “And then lose my job and be blacklisted and never work in the industry again.”
“That is the risk,” I say honestly.
It’s not just a risk; it’s career suicide. Studios talk; word gets out quickly. If you are deemed hard to work with—which is how they will spin this—then you don’t get hired.
“FableCon is going to suck,” she says. “I was looking forward to it before everything blew up.”
FableCon is peak fandom, with crowds dressed up as their favorite characters from all the different fantasy shows and upcoming movies. I can imagine that for someone like Bailey, getting to stand in the middle of that energy, surrounded by fans who are obsessed with something you helped create, must feel unbelievable.
“It’s just a few short hours,” I tell her.
“Yes,” she says, her voice nearly a whisper. “But how am I going to be around River again?”
That’s the bigger issue. Not just the fans and their hopes for a reconciliation. It’s having to make it look like everything is okay between her and River.
“You’re going to have to spend a lot more time around him soon enough,” I remind her.
“I know, but that’s different,” she says. “I’ll be playing Elora; all my lines are scripted. I don’t have to be myself. And when I am, the set is closed. No worry of photos leaking to entertainment outlets or saying something I shouldn’t in front of a huge crowd of people.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” I reassure her. “We’ve got this.”
We just have to make it through one afternoon. It’ll be fine. Right?
A few hours later, as Tessa and I are working on ways I can help Bailey get through FableCon, my phone beeps.
Jerkwad:I’m guessing the studio called you?
I pick my phone up and stare at it for a second before texting back. I knew we’d need to have a conversation and have been putting it off.
It’s been a long week, and it’sonly Monday.
Me:Yes, and my client isn’t happy.
Jerkwad:Neither is mine
I guess it’s good to know that Luke and I are in the same boat. Even if we’re at opposite ends of it, paddling in a circle.
Jerkwad:I didn’t think that statement would go sideways like that. It was supposed to help.
Me:It helped. Just a little too much.
He sends back one of those stressed emojis. The one with a cheeky smile and sweat dripping down its face.
Me:I guess we need a game plan for Wednesday
Jerkwad:Yes, I was thinking something like: don’t let them kill each other during the panel.
I twist my lips to the side, fighting a smile, even though he can’t see me.
Me:Brilliant
Jerkwad:Same as the gala? Separate arrivals. Separate greenrooms.
