September 2010. Emmy Awards. Nokia Theatre.
The tux is custom. $2,000. Katie insisted.
"You can't show up to the Emmys in a rental."
"Why not?"
"Because I'll be photographed. Which ans you'll be photographed. Which ans we need to look good."
"I look fine."
"You look better than fine. You look successful."
The Attractiveness power helps. Everything fits perfectly. I photograph well. The red carpet caras flash constantly.
Katie's in a midnight blue gown. Designer. Borrowed. Worth more than my car.
"Stuart! Katie! Over here!"
Photographers yelling. Strobe lights. The carpet's longer than expected.
Katie poses naturally. Hand on hip. Slight smile.
I stand next to her. Try to look comfortable.
"Who are you wearing?" soone shouts.
Katie nas her designer.
"And you?" They're talking to now.
"Custom," I say. Because it is.
"What do you do?"
"I own comic book shops."
Brief pause. Then: "That's great! How many?"
"Three."
"In LA?"
"Southern California."
Katie's steering us forward. The carpet's a gauntlet. Every few feet, soone stops us. Entertainnt Tonight. E! News. Smaller outlets I don't recognize.
"Katie, who's your date?"
"This is Stuart. My boyfriend."
"What does he do?"
"He's an entrepreneur. Comic shops and film consulting."
"Which films?"
"Marvel projects primarily."
Interest increases. Marvel's hot right now. Iron Man 2 just ca out.
"Are you consulting on any upcoming projects?"
"Several. Can't discuss specifics."
"Can you tease anything?"
"No."
Katie's laughing as we escape inside.
"You're very good at deflecting."
"I don't like talking about work that isn't finished."
"Smart policy."
Inside. The theater's massive. We're in the zzanine. Good seats. Not great seats.
Katie's show is nominated for Outstanding Cody Series. Won't win. Modern Family's dominating this year.
I rember watching this ceremony in my original tiline. Vaguely. Modern Family swept.
Around us: celebrities. Actual celebrities. Tina Fey. Alec Baldwin. The cast of Glee.
Katie's chatting with her co-stars. I'm—networking.
Can't help it. The Magnetism power kicks in automatically.
A producer from Warner Bros. recognizes from Comic-Con.
"Stuart! The comic shop guy!"
"That's ."
"We're doing a DC project. Need authentic voices. You interested?"
"Maybe. Send details."
Business card exchange. Happens three more tis.
A director from NBC wants to discuss a show about a comic shop.
"Authenticity is everything. You'd be perfect as consultant."
"I'm already consulting for Marvel."
"This is different. Sitcom. Think 'The Office' but in a comic shop."
"I'll think about it."
By the ti the ceremony starts, I've collected twelve business cards.
Katie notices. "You're working."
"Can't help it."
"I'm not complaining. Just—funny. You network like I do."
"It's the business."
"It's you."
Her show doesn't win. She applauds anyway. Genuine smile.
"You okay?" I ask.
"Nomination's the win. Being nominated ans respect."
"Still would've been nice."
"Next year."
After-party at the Governors Ball. More celebrities. More networking.
Katie's dancing. I'm watching.
She's in her elent. Laughing with cast mates. Taking photos with fans.
Soone taps my shoulder. Wil Wheaton.
"Didn't know you'd be here," I say.
"Presenting an award. Saw you on the carpet. Looking sharp."
"Katie's idea."
"Smart woman."
"She is."
"How's the San Diego shop?"
"Crushing it. $8K opening day."
"Told you. People love what you're building."
We talk for ten minutes. He introduces to three more industry people. Each conversation leads sowhere.
By midnight, I've been offered two more consulting gigs and a potential investnt eting.
Katie finds at one AM.
"Ready to go?"
"Exhausted."
" too."
Outside. Waiting for the car.
Katie's leaning against . Heels off. Barefoot on concrete.
"Thank you for coming," she says.
"Of course."
"I've been to these before. With other—people. Boyfriends. Whatever. Always felt wrong. Like I was showing off. Or they were using for access."
"And tonight?"
"Tonight felt right. You were you. Networking because you're good at it. Not because you're using ."
"I'd never—"
"I know. That's why it feels right."
The car arrives. Tesla. Black. Driver in suit.
I help her in. Slide in beside her.
She falls asleep before we hit the freeway.
I watch LA lights blur past.
Three years ago I was nobody.
Tonight I walked the Emmy red carpet.
Networked with A-list celebrities.
Collected business cards from major studios.
All because of powers I shouldn't have.
All because of knowledge I didn't earn.
Katie shifts. Her head on my shoulder.
She doesn't know any of that.
She knows successful Stuart.
Not transmigrator Stuart.
The car turns onto my street.
The secret gets heavier every day.
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