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After an hour, we walked down the street to City Comics, where Parker’s roommate, Jess Bell, works the night shift. The bell above the door rings and Jess glances up at us, wide-eyed.
“What are you guys doing here?” She slips out from behind the glass display counter and throws her arms around us, crushing us into a group hug. “Parker didn’t tell me you were stopping by.”
“He doesn’t know,” Nate says. “We were in the neighborhood, and we thought, why not? For old times’ sake.”
Nate and I would come here as kids and spend hours flipping through the comic book racks. Our fathers knew the owner, who never had a problem with us hanging out in his store, snacking on junk food and reading to each other.
Jess frowns. “Did you hear? Frank is selling the store.”
Nate’s jaw drops along with mine. “Are you kidding? Who’s buying it?”
She rolls her shoulders. “I don’t know yet. He’s getting too old to run the place and doesn’t have any kids. Parker thinks I should put in a bid.”
Jess might be irresponsible and a little crazy off her meds, but she has a ton of money in the bank from the settlement she got after her brother’s death.
“You should,” I say to encourage her. “You love City Comics.” I point a finger between Nate and me. “We love it here, too.”
“I couldn’t imagine someone else running this place,” she says. “This store is a second home for me. I just… I don’t know.”
I went to the Rhode Island School of Design with Jess before I quit to move across the country for a more sensible degree at UCLA. Like me, Jess is a talented artist who’s never done anything useful with her degree. We both lack the confidence we need to share our vision with the world. I’m trying to do that with Nate and our video game. But it still scares the hell out of me. What if people don’t share our love for the game? What if I’m not meant to design worlds and characters?
“I guess I have a lot to think about,” Jess says with a sigh. “Anyways, what brings you into the store? Are you looking for something in particular?”
Nate shakes his head. “No… well, maybe. Do you have Mad Love?”
Jess gives him an interested look. “The Batman Adventures?”
“I love that one,” I say to Nate. “Harley Quinn has flashbacks to when she met Joker in Arkham Asylum and realizes she’s in love with him.”
Nate dips down to nibble on my earlobe. “I know you do.”
He’s my Joker, my partner in crime, the one person who would definitely help me bury a body. We’re not as messed up as Harley and Joker, but we’ve gone through enough rough patches over the years to have the same mad love. That’s exactly how I feel—madly in love.
Jess beams with delight. “You’re in luck. Because we actually have a copy that’s signed by Bruce Timm.”
“We’ll take it,” Nate says without hesitation.
Jess walks away to retrieve the comic, and Nate hugs me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. “Remember when we met him in person?”
“Yeah, that was cool. He’s an amazing artist. I wish I could do that with my art.”
“You can,” he challenges. “And you will.”
I place my hand over his and smile. “One step at a time. Let’s finish the game first.”
“I want you to draw the companion graphic novels for our game.”
My heart slams into my chest. “You, what? Are you serious?”
“Yeah. I think it’s the right move. This game has a long history and a lot of depth to the world. I have ideas on how we can expand into a universe, but we need a writer.”
“We have plenty of editors and writers to choose from.”
“True. But I want someone who doesn’t work for us already. A fresh face. A new voice. I was thinking we could ask Callie to help us with the writing.”
Callie is a talented writer, even though she chooses to use her gifts on dishing out gossip. When we were in high school, she wrote her first book. She still writes in secret, as far as I know, but refuses to let anyone read her novels.
“I’ll ask her,” I say, unable to contain my excitement. “Nate, this is…” I peek up at him in awe. “I can’t believe this.”
It’s almost too good to be true.
“So, what do you say, wifey? You want to make a name for yourself? Show your art to the world?”
“Hell, yeah,” I say with a grin that makes my cheeks hurt.
Jess appears with my comic book wrapped in plastic. “Last one.”
“I could use a good colorist,” I say as I take the book from her hand. “Do you still do freelance work?”
She cocks her head at me. “Sometimes. What do you have in mind?”
