Me:Already took care of the greenrooms
I did it after I hung up with Bailey. It felt proactive. It was also one of the easier things on my list.
Jerkwad:Great. Then we’ll plan to get there fifteen minutes after you.
Me:Sounds good. What about the panel? How do we manage that?
Jerkwad:Sell our souls to Satan?
Me:You did that already
Jerkwad:Hey
I send back a laughing emoji, even if I meant it just a little.
Me:We’ll make sure they don’t sit together
He sends me a thumbs-up.
Me:And what about fan questions?
Jerkwad:Can’t control that. I’ll talk to the moderator and make sure they redirect if necessary.
Me:Perfect.
Jerkwad:See you Wednesday
I let out a breath. Yes, Wednesday. That’s the last major public event before preproduction starts. And then it will be rehearsals, fittings, table reads—all behind closed doors.
That can’t come soon enough.
Chapter 12
PR Tip #9:You can plan for everything except human emotion.
“What do you love most about playing these characters?” a young woman with long blue hair and pointy prosthetic ears asks the panel.
We made it to FableCon. It’s been a long couple of days of stress and prep, but we survived. Barely. As a fan of the show, this whole thing has been incredible to see. As someone helping one of the major stars navigate her way through this after a breakup and a PR war . . . it’s complicated.
The fans are . . . fanning. Costumes everywhere. Some basic, most over the top. Someone made buttons that said “K+E=F” (Kaelric plus Elora equals forever), and I took one for Sam. Okay,and I took one for myself too. I had to. The tops of theKhad little pointed ears on them. That’s adorable.
“That’s a fantastic question,” the moderator, Ben Clayton, says. He’s an entertainment influencer with a huge following, and he deals mostly with news and not gossip. Perfect for what we need here.
He looks over at Declan Marshall, the incredibly handsome man that plays Thalen Vireth, Kaelric’s younger brother. “Wanna take this one?”
“Absolutely,” Declan starts.
I’m standing in the back area of the makeshift stage, watching the whole thing from the side, Luke next to me. I’m feeling a mixture of things right now, but exhaustion is at the top. My eyelids actually feel heavy. And yet, I’m hopped up on all kinds of caffeine. So it’s, like, an antsy kind of tired.
“You still do that?” Luke says, leaning in, his breath on my ear, which sends little pinpricks of sensation down my neck.
I take a tiny step away from him.
“Do what?” I ask him, confused. I’m in a black pantsuit, and he’s wearing black trousers and a jacket, and we look like a pair of bodyguards standing here.
“Chew on your thumbnail when you’re nervous,” he says, a smirk on his face.
I pull my hand away from my mouth. “I don’t do that,” I say, annoyed that he remembered.
