Page 1 of Falling Faster
CHAPTER ONE
TY
Sounds come from every direction of the crowded convention center's vast hall. I flip through the row of colorful comic books, my gaze jumping between the issue numbers on the books and the numbers on the printed list I compiled.
Finding everything on my wish list is likely too much to hope for, even at the largest comic book collectors convention on the West Coast, but if I can score at least a few issues before the weekend is over, I'll consider the entire trip to LA well worth the cost of the plane tickets and hotel room fees.
The convention has drawn people from all areas of the country. Multiple accents mingle in the sea of people weaving around the grid pattern of vendors' tables. Aggressive, laser-focused seekers dodge and dart around those content to meander and explore every item they encounter.
I reach the end of the bin. Great issues, but nothing I need. Nodding at the vendor, I turn away from the table.
Groups of friends and families pass by, a reminder that I need to check in with my friends. Scanning the tables covered with comic books, memorabilia, artwork, clothing, andaccessories, I spot Slater and Noah standing a few vendors away. My bag tucked tight against my side, I make my way over.
Having them along for the trip has eliminated the loneliness that usually accompanies my forays to various cities for conventions, but the couple's frequent PDAs are a tough reminder of my solo relationship status.
"Ty!" Slater's red T-shirt emblazoned with a lightning bolt stretching across his muscular chest rivals the brightness of his ginger hair. He holds up a comic book in a protective bag like it's a trophy and a triumphant grin lights up his face. "Look what I found."
"No way." I recognize the rare edition's yellow and green cover at first glance. That issue is one of the most coveted of those missing from my own collection. A thin blade of envy twists in my gut, but I smile and focus on happiness for my friend. "Want to discuss a trade?"
Slater's eyes bulge for a moment before he laughs and shakes his head. "Are you kidding? I've been looking for this issue for years."
"Same." I roll my shoulders and shrug away the disappointment. The convention still has two and a half days to go. Plenty of time left in my quest to find a hidden gem like one of the other rare comic books on my list. And if I don't have any luck by Sunday afternoon, I'll drown my sorrows by buying something fun and impractical like the life-size replica of Thor's hammer gleaming on the table to my left.
Noah slings his arm around Slater's waist, the tattoos decorating his biceps and forearms are on display thanks to his short sleeves. "Sorry, Ty. The guy who sold it to me said it was the only copy he had. No idea if he was bluffing though. I didn't know you wanted it too. We can go back to see if there's another one."
"I doubt he'd have another, but I'll check out his tableanyway. Maybe he'll have something else I need. I haven't made it anywhere near that side of the room yet."
"Did you find anything on your list?"
Shaking my head, I pull the sketchbook from my bag and then flip through the pages. "I got an idea for the project Slater and I are doing and wanted to get it down, so I spent most of the past hour sketching. Have a look."
The project, a collaboration sparked by Slater's idea for a comic book series about a hockey player who gains super powers, has taken over most of my free time for the last few months, as he and I take advantage of his hockey league's summer break. Most of our sessions, held at Slater and Noah's place, end with me stumbling to their guest room at the end of a late night. At this point, I feel like their extra, sometimes absent, roommate.
Noah's eyes widen as he scans the sketch. "You did all of that in the hour since we last saw you? Damn, you're talented."
A flush creeps into my cheeks. "Thanks."
Slater leans down and peers at the page. "I love it. The clashing of the hero and villain facing off on the ice would be a great scene to start off the next issue."
"I thought that too." Thinking along the same lines has worked well for our plans for the series.
He holds up his hand for a high-five. "Awesome."
I raise mine in response and overshoot the connection, my palm passing by Slater's. Laughter stealing my breath, I shrug at my friend and hold up my hand to try again. This time, I keep still and let Slater do the action. We connect with aclap.
From his place in the middle of our trio, Noah lays his hands on both of our shoulders. "Thathasto go into the story. One of your superheroes could be a little uncoordinated. Think of how funny you could make things."
My inspiration sparked, I nod at Noah and then jot down ideas on a fresh page. "A little uncoordinated, or we could go bigger and make him a walking disaster. A little like me. Crashing into things?—"
"And flying into things," Slater adds, his blue eyes shining. "You aren't a walking disaster, Ty, but we could embellish some of the things that have happened to you. It's going to be so good. Great idea, Noah."
"I'm glad I thought of it. You guys have been working on the stories non-stop, and I've felt bad not having anything to contribute to help." Noah scuffs the toe of his sneaker on the concrete floor. He often spends the hours while Slater and I work, close by, lost in a book. The man is a voracious reader. "I feel like I'm out of my element when you're both hardcore into planning worlds and characters."
Slater bends his head and kisses Noah on the temple. "Just having your support means everything to me. Both with the series and with being here now. I know this convention isn't your thing or your idea of a mini-vacation, but I'm glad you're here."
Love shines bright in Noah's eyes as he leans into his boyfriend's side. "Are you kidding? I'm loving watching you get so excited over everything here."
Their lips meet in a brief kiss and something deep within me aches to find that level of love. The two of them together are sweet. Besides being boyfriends, they are best friends, roommates, and teammates on Buffalo's pro hockey team, the Bedlam.
