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By the time we reach the Four Seasons in New York, it’s already late, thanks to the three-hour time difference. Ryann leads the group to the counter in the sleek hotel lobby, while I hover nearby, wishing I had a hoodie to pull over my head. The overhead lighting reflects off the marble and glass, too bright for my tired eyes. I’m practically nodding off on my feet when Ryann’s raised voice snaps me awake, arguing with the concierge.
“What do you mean there are no other rooms available? We made these reservations months ago.” He glares at the poor, stuttering man, who holds up his palms defensively.
“For a party of six, yes. And we have six rooms reserved. All other accommodations are booked. I’m sorry, sir.”
“How is that fucking possible?”
“Bet it’s because of the Symbiotic concert tonight,” one of the developers says with a shrug, and the man behind the desk nods eagerly.
“They’re playing a show every night this week. All hotels in the city are full.”
Ryann blows out a frustrated breath, gritting his teeth. “I don’t know what a Symbiotic is, but we added another person to our party last minute. Where is he supposed to stay?”
“They’re a metal band,” Carpenter clarifies. “I don’t mind sharing my room. Shilo can stay with me.”
At this point, I’ll stay anywhere as long as I can get some sleep.
Ryann eyes Carpenter coldly before glancing at me, swaying slightly against Liza. His expression softens.
“No, he’ll stay with me. My room should have an extra pullout.”
“Uh, about that…” The concierge coughs with a wince. “Due to the flood of reservations, our system made a mistake. All of your rooms are standard with one queen bed.”
A heavy silence settles over the group, everyone exchanging uneasy glances while Ryann visibly fights to keep his temper in check.
“Fucking fantastic. Just give us the keys.” Snatching the card from the counter, he grabs my bag off the floor and strides toward the elevators without another word.
“I really don’t mind staying in Carpenter’s room, Mr. Callahan. It’s fine,” I try, trailing after him.
“Shilo,” he growls, punching the call button hard enough to make it rattle, “I’m not in the mood. I’ve got a hundred things to finish tonight before I can even think about sleeping, and we have to be up early for Phase One of the convention. Don’t argue.”
I don’t have the energy to argue, even if I wanted to.
When we finally reach the room, Ryann drops my bag onto the bed and immediately sets up his laptop on the desk. I stand there awkwardly, shifting on my feet as I watch him, unsure of what to do. He glances briefly over his shoulder.
“Get some sleep. I’ll be up for a while working on this presentation.”
That’s all he says before diving back into his work. Feeling dismissed, I grab a pair of pajamas from my bag and close myself in the bathroom for a shower.
By the time I step back out, he’s completely engrossed, the faint glow of his laptop illuminating his face in the dim room. I’m so sleepy that I don’t even bother saying goodnight, choosing to crawl under the covers instead. Within seconds, I’m out like a light, sleep claiming me instantly.
Shilo
IntelliCon is massive—bigger than any convention I’ve ever been to.
After a quick hotel breakfast, we arrive at the Javits Center in Manhattan just before eight, and I gape at the gleaming structure as Ryann and Liza usher us inside. The place reminds me of the CalTek building, all glass and steel, towering and intimidating. As we head toward one of the auditoriums to set up, Carpenter and I lag behind, taking in the sheer scale of the event. It’s mind-blowing. Hands-on workshops, showcases, VR experiences, drone races, and even robot battles stretch as far as the eye can see. Every major tech company is here, launching new products, while startups scramble to make their mark.
We pass a booth offering scholarships for whoever can build a computer mainframe the fastest, and I nearly sign up on the spot before Liza grabs my arm to drag me away. Seriously, this place is every PC nerd’s wet dream, it sucks that I’m here to work. I want to play. Not fair.
“You’ll have plenty of time to explore later,” Liza laughs as I make grabby hands at the sign-up sheet. “Our presentation starts in an hour.”
The auditorium is empty when we arrive, and we get to work setting up our exhibit behind the curtain while Ryann barks orders like his usual grouchy self. He didn’t sleep at all last night—I know because he was still hunched over his laptop when I woke up this morning. Aside from the faintest shadows under his eyes, he looks flawless, as always. His tailored suit and gold tie look like something straight off a runway.
I, on the other hand, look like a disaster. My polo is wrinkled from being balled up in my bag last night, and my too-big slacks sag off my hips. Even Carpenter managed to clean up decently, though his trusty beanie still hides his hair. I try not to feel self-conscious, but standing next to Ryann, it’s hard not to.
The presentation includes interactive demos, where attendees can test out AVA’s features. Carpenter struggles with getting the laptop to screen-share, and as I step in to help, I seize the opportunity to ask about KC.
“So, what’s up with you and Kansas?” I ask, keeping my tone light.
