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I laughed, remembering our first night out together. Once upon a time, when Tyson and I were the youngest hires at Harpy, we went out together almost every weekend. He had moved to Florida for the job and with no friends, he needed a wing-woman. I'd moved back to town, losing touch with all the friends I'd made in college because we had more of an 'out of sight, out of mind' relationship.
"There is nothing wrong with spoken word poets," I argued. "You just don't know how to properly appreciate the artform."
"They're corny," he said, point blank. "I still can't believe I let you convince me to watch that silly movie."
"Don't tell me you're talking about Love Jones?"
He made a face. "Yeah, that one."
"Do you know how many people would stone you if they heard you say that?"
"I wish they had while I was watching it."
"Well, I need my editor intact, so keep that opinion to yourself," I said. "Now, tell me about this promo stuff so I can graciously decline and be on my way."
Tyson gave me a look. "Please, don't make this harder than it needs to be."
"I said I was going to be gracious, didn't I?"
He looked around before lowering his voice. "Look, I don't know what's up with you and turning down stuff, and honestly, it’s probably not my business.”
“It isn’t,” I said, but I couldn’t manage to put much fire behind it.
He noticed the lackluster attempt, too. "We're friends, Sage, whether you like to admit it or not."
"Acquaintances at best," I teased.
Tyson rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Look, I need you to work with me when it comes to this promo stuff. We've scheduled some talks for you and Noah to do—panels at the upcoming comic con down in Saint Augustine and a signing at the art festival next weekend. There's also a talk at the local middle school I think will be beneficial, since they're our core demographic."
I opened my mouth to refute, but he beat me to the punch.
"It'd be good for the kids to see two queer women creating comics," he said. "Don't you think?"
I closed my mouth—what else was I supposed to do? I couldn't deny something like that.
"Imagine seeing someone like you when you were young." Tyson continued to lay it on thick.
It would have made me more confident I could be myself in this industry, that's for sure. I'd gone years denying and ignoring my sexuality, monitoring how I held myself, what I wore, how I sounded. After finding community at the Art Center campus, I realized there was no either/or choice between being bisexual and being an artist. I could be as "greedy" as I wanted and still be respected.
Maybe not loved, but sure as hell respected.
I brushed the thought away and gave Tyson a nod. "Sure, I'm down to talk to the next generation. It's my civic duty."
"That's the spirit."
"Have you run this by Noah?"
"Yup, the middle school talk was her idea." He nodded, pleased.
"Oh. Really?" I don't know why I was surprised. Noah was the kind of kiss-up who'd be enthusiastic about giving talks.
"She was thrilled about it," Tyson continued. "Even came up with a whole itinerary other teams can use when it comes to promoting their launches. I don't know how she found the time to do the write-up. It was intensive. The higher-ups were impressed."
He gave me a look I know all too well.
"You were the one who said I wasn't in competition with her," I reminded him with a frown.
"You're not in terms of Leisah," he promised. "But, come on, Sage. Did you really think they wouldn't consider hearing a pitch from an artist who has…a bit more charm than you?"
