“Hi, my name is Jason Cowan…”
“From the top.”
I snarled at Amanda. Staring into the void and having a conversation with the entire internet was my very definition of hell. It didn’t stop her from pointing at me like she worked in a TV studio.
I can do this. “Hillo?—”
“Start over.”
“Hi, my?—”
“More energy.”
“Hi! My?—”
“You’re at a twelve. I’m going to need you at a seven.”
Was I allowed to hate my best friend? I took a steadying breath, pulling my t-shirt, complete with chubby superhero and cape, so I didn’t expose my belly. I shook my hands before wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans. Giving my head a good roll to loosen the tension, I tried to psych myself up for the next round of mistakes. Maybe if I was better at marketing, I wouldn’t go to sleep at night, fearful Firefly’s first convention would be a failure.
This would be the one. If it wasn’t, I’d throw up my hands and give up. “Hi, I’m Jason Cowan, owner of Legends Comics. And I’m here to tell you about…” My mind went blank. Not even the script helped the brain freeze. “Wait, what am I telling them?”
Amanda peered over the top of her phone, eyebrow high enough that she might as well have told me to start over. Her hand smacked against her face. “You spend all day talking to everybody like they’re your best friend. What’s so hard about this?”
“I already feel them judging me.”
“Imagine the conversation is between you and me.”
“Does rolling my eyes count as talking?”
The emotion drained from her face. Oh, no, not a deadpanned Amanda. This was more terrifying than thelook. “Ahem.” I was about to get a lecture. “You’re an adorable baby bear. Everybody loves you. You’re the resident geek. If you can convince Beverly Landsdale to buy comics for her kids, this should be a piece of cake. Convince the internet the same way you did with every person in this backwoods town.”
My cheeks burned. I ran my hand through my beard to hide my face. I looked everywhere but at the camera. Reaching this point hadn’t been easy, not by a long shot. I put in hours with the local library, reading to kids. I donated comics to the elementary school whenever they invited me as a guest speaker. Even the Chamber of Commerce helped put out the word. One by one, I introduced Firefly Valley to the very comics that gave me hope as a kid.
“I see it,” Amanda said. “Be a hero, Jas.”
One more time.
“Hi, I’m the owner of Legends Comics. Comic books changed my life, and it’s time they do the same for you. If you haven’t heard of Firefly Valley, you’ll need to pull us up on the map. We’re holding our first annual Comic Con. Let your inner geek run free. We’ll have events for kids, including drawing, face painting, and, of course, plenty of comics. There will be studio sessions teaching folks how to make their own comics. Dress up and enter our first cosplay competition. My name is Jason Cowan, and I want to invite you to Firefly Con.”
Amanda said nothing as her eyes moved between me and her screen. Her lack of instruction worried me. I shoved my hands in my pocket like a bashful child. She poked her phone, and the light for the camera shut off. Had we done it? Should I expect a flood of reservations at any moment?
She jumped past the camera, throwing her arms around my shoulders. With a kiss on the cheek, she continued jumping up and down. “You’re so damned cute.” It didn’t matter what crazy mess I got myself into; Amanda would always be my biggest cheerleader.
I let her energy shove my doubts aside. Her bouncing had turned into an awkward dance, and I joined in. We cheered as we created a mosh pit of two. Alone, I’d never make Firefly Con a success. It wasn’t just my friends who had my back. The entirety of Firefly rallied behind me, determined to bring my dream to life.
And yet, a small voice persisted, whispering promises of city life.
WELCOME TO FIREFLY VALLEY
“This is depressing.”
I stared at the e-invite for the convention. We only had ninety-eight reservations, and most of them were locals. I didn’t have any idea what to expect. I had hoped it’d be one of those ‘build it and they will come’ events. It was better than nothing, but the knot in the pit of my stomach didn’t agree.
Running my fingers along the nails embedded into the counter, I turned my attention to how far the town had come. Once known for their paper mills, they had turned the empty buildings into storefronts.
Anywhere else, it’d be a modern industrial aesthetic, but in Firefly Valley, it spoke to our history. Seeing our town falling into disrepair, they started a revitalization project. Their determination and refusal to fade into oblivion bordered on inspirational.
My shop had the original walls, with exposed beams and concrete floors. The counter at the front had been made with a reclaimed door and had more dents and dings than my truck. I tried to keep the character of the mill that once employed my father and his father before him. I think that’s part of why Mom supported the endeavor. In my own way, I carried on the family legacy.
