Her make-up was beginning to smear. The 22nd of July in San Diego was not the warmest of nights. Emilie and her bandmates, the Bloody Crumpets, had just arrived from the airport and were exhausted. Emilie led the five girls through the doors and walked down the long corridor to their hotel suite. Everything had been prepared in advance for their stay.
Emilie slid her card through the lock, waiting patiently for the light to turn green before she pushed open the door. Each girl went through the motions of undressing from their performance clothes and into something more comfortable. Normally, the girls shared a bed but because the hotel beds were not as large as her own and there were two they decided to split up.
Emilie Autumn believed in a certain amount of closeness with her bandmates. She could not understand how a person could work with people on projects without an intimacy. No, she wasn't sexing up the Bloody Crumpets, Emilie preferred to think of them as sisters.
Once the bathroom was free, she took up her clothes – a pair of striped stockings and a simple white dress – and filled the tub with lukewarm water. After undressing, pinning back her long pink-red hair she stepped into the water and let out a contented sigh. Leaning her head back against the wall she hummed "A World of My Own" from Alice in Wonderland.
Enjoying her soak for some time, she began to notice the water becoming white as her make-up washed off. She cupped her hands together bringing the water to her face, washing it free of make-up until the water was mixed with blacks and pinks.
When she was ready to get out, she drained the water and climbed out. She dried herself off and pulled the white dress over her head. The stockings felt good on her skin; there was a hole in the left foot where her big toe peeked out with chipped black polish. Running her fingers through her long hair she let it fall down her shoulders.
Emerging from the bathroom, Emilie found her girls sprawled across the room in their nighties, she smiled fondly and went for her teddy bear someone had placed on the television set. Suffer. Pulling the bear into her arms, she shivered at the memory of a fan stealing him from the stage at one of the concerts. He was only a teddy bear but having him stolen and replaced by another bear had not helped her. What if someone tried to steal one of her girls?
She loved her fans, but some of them were insufferable.
No need to think of such depressing things. She climbed into bed next to Veronica, holding Suffer tightly in her arms as she closed her eyes.
Sleep refused to take her and after forty-five minutes of trying, despite how tired she was, she climbed out of bed. Usually when she had trouble sleeping she would wake up one of her girls and they would talk for hours but with all of them sleeping so soundly she thought it would be rude to rouse them now. A walk around the hotel might help, she thought.
She left Suffer in the bed and pulled on a pair of black boots and left the room.
****
Jhonen Vasquez sat on the bed hunched over his laptop, knuckles of his left hand pressed against his lips. His brow wrinkled in concentration.
His cell phone vibrated on the night stand for the umpteenth time; he guessed it was yet another fan email for him to read through before tomorrow's Comicon. He always had the same questions. The answers were always the same. No, there will be no more JTHM that ended for me in 2001. No, Zim is over and it's not coming back, it ended in 2002. No, you can't hug me. Of course I'm still working on things.
It seemed that the questions would be presented to him forever until the answers changed, but in this case they never would. He appreciated his fans but if they did not appreciate his new work, he would not be crushed. He was an artist and he would tell the stories he wanted with or without the approval of the fans. Because Jhonen Vasquez was not putting out comic books did not mean he was not working.
The script for the film he was working on was taking up all of his time these days and this year's Comicon would take at least two full days away from him. Having not gone last year almost required him to make an appearance this year, according to Dan.
Removing his glasses to rub the place between his eyes, Jhonen let out a groan. The telltale signs of a headache were coming on. The mini-fridge in his hotel room held no beverages and he needed caffeine to rid himself of the pain behind his eyes.
He still wore his suit and tie from the early signing that afternoon and had been so distracted by his other projects he had forgotten to change. Loosening the thin black tie and removing the jacket he relaxed. Jhonen tossed the jacket on the bed and ran a hand through his smooth black hair, the gel having worn off hours ago.
The clock on his laptop read midnight. He would grab a drink from the bar downstairs, work on the script for three more hours and then try to get some sleep before he was to leave at seven. His booth did not open until nine, but they needed to get there early to set everything up.
Jhonen opened the door and stared out into the hallway, all was quiet, and he pulled the door shut behind him. Thankfully the bar was not filled with drunken people and pleasantly empty for a Thursday night before Comicon.
He walked towards the bar seeing a woman with long bright pink and red hair. She was cute with black and white stockings and a white dress that clung to her in a way that made everyone in the room stare. His reason for staring was not so much sexual attraction but in awe that someone could master such a color without staining the white dress.
Jhonen smirked in memory of his old blood red hair and he was relieved that he no longer woke up with stained pillows and ruined shirts. Now, despite his disgruntled fans, his hair was black. Yes he had actually received emails complaining about his hair color.
He sat at the bar and ordered two bottles of water for later and a Cherry Pepsi to rid him of the headache. He took a heavy swig of the soda and sighed in relief as it began to lessen his pain. He saw her looking at him as he downed half the drink.
She smiled and he mentally prepared himself for her to pounce in fangirl joy and try to tackle him. When she went back to nursing the pink drink she had in front of her Jhonen studied her for a moment. She looked to be in her early twenties and the gothic style of clothing seemed to suit her very well. Her clothes looked authentic, not the knock offs from Hot Topic.
Jhonen finished the drink and ordered another. The woman looked familiar but he could not place her. Or perhaps she merely looked familiar the way seeing hundreds of people at a time several times in a year made people begin to look familiar.
The woman glanced at him and smiled stirring the straw in her drink she opened her mouth, "Hi, I'm Emilie." As if sensing his discomfort she shrugged slightly and said, "I thought it was a little weird to be the only ones sitting at the bar not talking."
"Jhonen," he answered with a nod to be polite. He adjusted his glasses needing to do something with his hands short from shaking hers.
"It's nice to meet you, Jhonen." She sipped her drink then asked, "So what brings you here so late besides delicious refreshment, of course?"
She did not recognize him, probably not a comic fan, he guessed. Jhonen was both relieved and unnerved because at this point anything could happen. He imagined a gaggle of pre-teens coming into the room and finding him having a drink with a pink haired vixen. Oh god, the emails…. He shuddered slightly. "I'm going to be at Comicon for the next two days. What about you?" He saw the twitch in her fingers as they circled her Martini glass.
"I'm doing a small tour in California, my next concert is tomorrow night. Nothing huge just a few shows for devoted fans."
A singer. He still could not place her face, Jhonen being a lover of all kinds of music prided himself in his collection. This girl…woman just did not ring a bell in his mind.
"Do you have your own comic?"
Jhonen chuckled. "Several actually. I've been drawing since I was a kid, been in the business for a little over ten years now."
"Wow."
He drummed his knuckles on the bar, waiting for another soda. When the drink was brought to him, he stared at it. Instead of Cherry Pepsi he had a regular Pepsi with two cherries floating at the top of the glass. "Hmm." He took a sip and set it aside.