Page 134 of New Growth
I chewed my bottom lip, then reached for the styling mousse.
I’ll try.
?
After way too much time stumbling around the convention hall, I slipped into the auditorium as the moderator introduced the panelists.Fans filled every seat, some standing along the walls, eager to hear from the man of the hour himself—Elliot Greene.
I spotted him instantly, sitting center stage, long legs stretched out, a microphone in his hand. He looked relaxed, confident, but I knew him well enough to notice the tension in his grip and the way his fingers drummed lightly against his outer thigh.
He was nervous as hell.
I found a spot near the back, just out of sight, and listened.
The discussion started with light questions about his art style, his process, and how he juggled writing and illustrating his own work while heading a division of a multimillion-dollar company.
“How do you manage all this?” an audience member asked. “It all seems time-consuming, and I swear there aren’t enough hours in the day.”
He shrugged but did not look up as he’d say, “When you love something, you make time. When you want something, you work towards it. When you need something, you do everything in your power to make sure you get it. It’s just discipline and patience. Two things I have in abundance.”
Something told me he wasn’t just talking about art.
Then someone asked a question that made my stomach twist.
A girl near the front, wearing a t-shirt with his comic’s main character printed on it, raised her hand. “I know this may sound weird, but why a Black female lead? What was the inspiration?”
Elliot smiled, shifting in his seat. “That’s a great question.”
He took a second, running a hand over his jaw like he always did when deciding what and how much to say.
“Well, I always knew I wanted the main character to be a woman. This story is about strength, resilience, honor, love, and kindness in the face of danger. When I think of all that, I think about my grandmother’s arms. I think about my mother’s warm smile in photos. I think about coming home and seeing the most beautiful woman in the world in the living room. There’s nothing more wonderful than being loved by a Black woman, and I wanted to make a story that reflects that.” Then, casually—a bit too casually if you ask me—he said, “As for inspiration, I drew a lot of that from the woman I love.”
My breath caught.
A ripple of excitement moved through the crowd. A few people whispered to each other, and the moderator sat forward, interested.
“The woman you love, huh?” The moderator pushed. “You wanna tell us about her?”
Elliot continued as if he’d been dying for someone to ask him, his voice steady. “She’s strong, sometimes stubborn, slightly predictable, but in a good way. When I first saw her, I was so captivated that I thought my chest was going to burst. She so fucking gorgeous. No bullshit. She’s probably the most breathtaking thing to walk the earth. And she’s so sweet. Like the sweetest person ever. She’s funny and smart. She keeps me focused.”
I struggled to breathe as I forced air into my lungs. I mean, there was still a chance he wasn’t talking about me.
Right?
A man near the front raised a hand. “So, are we ever gonna meet her?”
Elliot smirked, shaking his head. “Nah, I’m keeping this one to myself.”
More laughter.
He wasn’t talking about me.
RIGHT?
The moderator leaned forward. “You said you love her. What kind of love are we talking about here?”
My whole body tensed.
For a moment, Elliot hesitated. Then he smiled a soft smile, not cocky or teasing. “The real kind.”
