All the Feels (8 page)

“This feels…” Xander glanced back down. Summary:
Leaving the memories of the Fight for Io behind is harder than Spartan had believed. Malloy helps him come to terms with the horror.
“Really weird.”

Liv snorted with laughter. “At least it’s not RPF.”

“You’re speaking code, Liv.”

“Real person fic … as in fic about
you
, Xander Hall, not the character you play.” She broke into choking laughter as his eyes widened into saucers. “Joe’s fic is much tamer. Promise.”

Liv looked over at the counter. Two hipsters with matching beards were arguing over the last muffin in the tray. “You said you wanted to read the story, so read it. I’m gonna go grab myself a—”

“Already got it for you,” Xander said, nudging a cup on the nearby coffee table. “Decaf latté, soy milk, whip on top rather than froth, right?”

“Exactly.”

Liv grinned as Xander sank back into the chair’s cushions, his attention on the screen. She could see part of the text and wondered if he’d stop at some point, suddenly realizing what he’d been dragged into.

Liv took a sip of latté, watching over the rim of the cup. Xander’s lips moved when he read. Not like a little kid, she decided, but as she did when she was fighting to get a particularly difficult After Effects render to work. Liv wondered why she hadn’t noticed before.

Ten minutes passed in silence. Liv emptied her cup as Xander scrolled the story a paragraph at a time. She could follow the progression of the story—one of Joe’s angst-ridden best—by the jump and drop of Xander’s eyebrows. The ending was dark, different from Joe’s usual fare, but Liv loved it more than she could say. It also meant Xander as Malloy had just gone from an unknown actor to a living, breathing character in the
Starveil
saga. Liv knew Joe’s stamp of approval would bring even more fans over to #SpartanSurvived.

Xander’s brows disappeared into his hairline, and Liv giggled. He’d just reached
that
part.

He glanced up, catching her staring.

“So
this
is what you’ve been reading about me, hmmm?”

Liv looked down at her cup, hoping the café was dim enough to hide her flushed face. “Um … yeah.”

“It’s interesting.” He leaned closer, eyes twinkling with mischief. “But, I can promise I’ve done all of this so far.”

Her eyes jerked back up. “Wh-what?”

“I’m keeping a tally.”

Her face heated up five degrees.

“Oh, Liv, my sweet innocent.” Xander threw back his head and laughed. “You’re blushing, dearest!”

“Am not!”

“Are too.” He smirked. “Not saying I mind or anything, but I feel like you’ve been spying on me en déshabillé.”

“If I’ve been spying on anyone, it’d be Malloy.”

“And how did Malloy measure up to your dear Spartan?”

Now her cheeks were definitely on fire. In fact, her entire face felt like it was in flames. “I have history with Spartan,” she said archly. “But you’re holding your own.”

“Good.” Xander grinned. “Now give me a minute to finish this, shall we?”

Xander resumed reading, and Liv to watching. His teasing had left a residual flicker of awareness that hummed beneath her skin. Whom had she been rooting for when she’d read this fic? It may have been, Liv thought, Xander’s Malloy, not Spartan after all.

“Oh dear,” Xander muttered. He didn’t look up.

He scrolled the fic higher, eyes flickering. Liv’s fingers tightened around the cup, waiting for the moment when he realized Malloy—his character—wasn’t just caught in the battle, he was already dead. She’d read it this morning and had spent twenty minutes fixing her teary mascara because of it. Hurt-comfort fic was her favorite. Somehow imagining Xander as Malloy made it more poignant.

Liv took another sip, watching Xander unawares. He was glued to the screen, eyes scanning. A muscle jumped in his jaw, and Liv wondered if he was reading the final scenes.

Xander looked up so quickly it startled her. He was breathing fast, his cheeks utterly white except for two bright dots of color.

“Holy shit,” he said with a nervous laugh. His gaze skittered to the screen and back up. “She—She killed me.”

“Not
you
, exactly. She killed Malloy.”

“Yeah, but…” He ran his fingers through his hair. Tufts of it stood on end, so different from his usual smooth coiffure. “That’s a messed-up fic, Liv. Sheesh! Like watching a horror movie in reverse and finding out it’s actually about you.” He shuddered. “I’m going to have nightmares about that.”

Liv snorted. “Hurt-comfort fic is big in the
Starveil
fandom. Spartan loses his best friend, but Tekla gets to ease his pain.” She took another sip of her latté. “It’s got over five thousand hits and six hundred kudos already. Joe’s one of the most popular
Starveil
writers around. And she just made
you
Spartan’s best friend.”

For a moment, she thought Xander would argue about it or, worse yet, refuse to take his place in the second trailer she was planning. Instead, his face split into a wide grin. With his hair askew, he looked every bit the Rebel leader she’d imagined.

“Five thousand hits?!”

“And that’s only one fic,” Liv said. “There are new stories posted every day on the Spartan Survived tag.” A mischievous smile spread over her lips. “You’re more popular than some of the canon characters.”

“I’m a star!” Xander crowed. “A real one!”

Liv tipped her cup toward him. “I’ll drink to that.”

Xander leaned back, steepling his hands on his chest. With hair rumpled and cravat loose, he looked like an English lord thinking about colonial domination. All he needed was a ship and a flag.

“So what’s our next move?” he asked.

“Next, we finish sewing your drinking jacket—”

“Smoking jacket,” Xander corrected.

“—and then I have a little cosplay project of my own.” When Liv’s mother had insisted Liv learn how to mend her own clothes, it had been an embarrassment rather than a lesson in frugality. Today, being a seamstress felt like a secret superpower few people Liv’s age possessed.

“Cosplay?” His eyes skimmed down her body. “Do tell.”

“Not for me. For you!”

“Pity … you’d be a sight. I’ll get you into a costume sometime, you know.”

“Sometime will be sometime
later
.” She giggled. “This one’s for you.”

“Do tell.”

Liv tapped the tablet’s screen. “If you’re leading the search mission for Spartan, you’re going to need a freighter captain’s uniform. Any dark pants you have will do, but the jacket needs to be handmade.”

“Do you have pictures to work from?”

“Better than that. SpartanGrrl has a pattern she bought at an online auction. She sent me JPEGs last year.” Liv drummed her fingers on the arm of the couch. “But are
you
going to do your part, too?”

Xander smirked. He doubled over in the leather chair, performing a courtly bow, made awkward by the fact he was already sitting.

“At your disposal, madam,” he said in his BBC drawl. “I shall be honored to cut and pin and act as haberdasher, if you’re willing to serve as seamstress.”

“Seems fair.”

Xander grinned. “Don’t say I didn’t help you with any of
your
homework.”

*   *   *

The first weeks of January spun past before Liv realized it. She hadn’t considered the sheer amount of time that an online revolution would require, and now every minute of every day was eaten away by obligations, every night by vidding. Any free time was spent replying to posts and building excitement online, all the rest taken up by schoolwork. She lived, ate, and breathed
Starveil
.

Even Xander noticed her distraction.

“I can’t believe you’re bailing on Mickey Dee’s. Who am I supposed to share trans fats and fandom woes with? My blue card still hasn’t shown up from Dragon Con yet. I’m getting anxious!”

Liv barely looked up from her computer. She had a @SpartanSurvived Twitter account to maintain!

“Sorry,” she muttered. “You want to get food?”

Xander’s hands rose to his hips. “That’s what I just said!”

“But it’s not even…” She squinted at the time on her computer. “Whoa! It’s ten thirty. When’d that happen?”

“You’ve been online for hours.” He twirled his pocket watch. “C’mon, Liv. For me. I
need
fries. They’re an addiction.”

“Why don’t you take Arden?”

“Arden’s working,” he said in a melancholy tone. “Besides, she hates fried food. And I want to go with
you
.” He knelt beside her chair, hand over heart. “My dear, sweet Miss Walden, I hope you will excuse the liberty I take in interrupting your vidding, but I know our bosom friendship will excuse any faults in my character.” He fluttered his lashes. “Please, Liv? I need fries. Please, please, please, please?”

“Fine,” Liv sighed. “Five more minutes, and I’ll come.”

He flashed a winning smile. “It’s a deal.”

Xander wasn’t the only one to notice Liv’s change of schedule. Late-night vidding began to compete with family obligations, too. Takeout became the rule. Her mother seemed determined to hold Liv to her promise of a movie night; and when Liv swore she didn’t have time to go out and see one, Katherine found an oldie station playing
Gone with the Wind
.

“We’ve seen that movie a hundred times, Mom.”

“Exactly. It’s our ‘thing,’ Liv. A mother-daughter tradition.”

“Not tonight, okay?”

“Fine. I suppose you have better things to do.” Her mother sighed as she headed to the kitchen.

“Mo-om,” Liv groaned. She hated it when her mother guilted her into doing things. “I’ve got to film some new clips, but Xander can only come over tonight. He’s working the rest of the week.”

Her mom stopped in the doorway and turned back around, mouth half-open. She looked like she’d just noticed something expensive in a store window. The glitter in her eyes was unnerving.

“You two have been spending a lot of time together. Is there something…?” Her mother let the unspoken question hang in the air, and Liv felt her face light on fire.

“Oh God, no. No! Jeez, Mom. There’s nothing between us.”

“You certain? Because it doesn’t look like nothing to me.”

“Xander has a girlfriend.”

Her mother put her hands on her hips. “A friend who’s also a girl, or one who he dates?”

“That he dates.”

“Well, it can’t be very serious then. I mean, you two spend almost every minute of the day together.”

Liv scrambled for a way to explain. “Xander’s helping me with a video project.”

Her mother’s face fell. “And you need to finish filming it.”

“And editing, and postproduction, and sound checks. I’ve got a lot to do. It’s a project for my film class,” she lied. “I have an extension to the end of the week.”

Her mother wilted. “You better finish it up then.”

Liv tamped down her guilt and forced a bright smile. “Thanks for understanding.”

“I do,” she said. “And I’m glad to see you’re doing better, Liv. You look … happy again.”

“I am.”

“And,” her mother added, “you’re focused on school again. That’s so good to see.”

Liv forced her smile not to waver.

“Thanks.”

The anticipation building online more than made up for the lack of sleep. A month into the project, hundreds of posts were coming in each day. Some of them had even been retweeted by a few of the secondary cast members of the
Starveil
franchise. (Tom Grander hadn’t mentioned it once. Liv knew; she’d been watching his online feed for weeks.) Nonetheless, Liv was certain the revolution had begun to have an effect, for each new day meant more buzz for the
Starveil
fandom. When Liv was finishing the tailored breeches for Xander’s latest cosplay (and Xander’s costuming project), Joanne sent Liv an online article that speculated the
Starveil
stars themselves were the forces behind the #SpartanSurvived movement.

@JoesWoes:
@LivOutLoud Do you think it’s true?

@LivOutLoud:
@JoesWoes Do I think WHAT is true?

@JoesWoes:
@LivOutLoud That it’s Tom Grander behind #SpartanSurvived. That he’s trying to raise himself from the dead!!! Wouldn’t that be AMAZING?

@LivOutLoud:
@JoesWoes But it’s not really Tom Grander who is dead, Joe. It’s his character, Spartan. #GetYourFactsStraight

@JoesWoes:
@LivOutLoud Fine, Liv-but do you think it’s HIM doing it? OMG could you imagine Tom reading my fanfic??? I’d die, Liv!!!! Literally, DIE.

Liv giggled at the reply. For a second, she considered telling Joe the truth—they’d been fandom friends for years—but Liv had kept the ruse up for so long, it felt like she’d be undermining #SpartanSurvived if she did. This was real because fandom
believed
it was. She couldn’t risk the success of it now.

@LivOutLoud:
@JoesWoes Trust me. Tom Grander has nothing to do with this.

@JoesWoes:
@LivOutLoud Bet you ten bucks you’re wrong.

@LivOutLoud:
@JoesWoes Ten dollars? You got a deal. ;P

*   *   *

“You’re going to the CU Mixer,” Xander insisted.

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Xander,” Liv warned.

“We’ve been back in classes for a month. How many times have you gone out in that time?”

She stuck out her tongue rather than answer.

“Exactly.” He threw open the doors of her closet and reached inside. “Enough of the hermit act. You’re coming dancing with me.”

“But I’m reading.”

“You mean moping.” He peered back over his shoulder. “Don’t think I can’t tell the difference.”

“Difference?”

“You’re pining for someone who isn’t real, dearest. That worries me.”