As someone who had never been to the Hillwood Comic Convention, the entire place was nearly overwhelming Arnold with the bright lights and the masses of people, dressed in outfits from various pop culture elements.

Standing there with Gerald and another colleague of his, a small guy that Gerald introduced as Tim, who was a producer and a decent sound guy apparently, Arnold was beginning to feel a little excited and scared.

He could recognize some of the outfits the cosplayers were wearing, dressed in outfits from some games he played, and some of the stuff the kids in his class liked. He didn't recognise swaths of others, and Gerald had to explain some of the references to him when they walked to the media booth, collecting media passes for the whole group in question. The entire place swarmed with people, which made sense since it was a Saturday, and finding the media booth was a little difficult, but workable. The teenage girl who was manning the table looked a little hassled and had passed the lanyards and passes without a smile.

Most of the media had already collected their passes on Thursday, since they were covering all 4 days of the event. TalkBuzz didn't because apparently, Rhonda felt it made more sense to do the weekend spots, where more people were available and more panels were ongoing so that there was a chance of more material. That seemed a little flawed somehow, but he was only here to do the filming, not criticise the policies and decisions made at TalkBuzz.

Tim didn't talk much, as far as Arnold noticed, focusing on making sure the sound levels from Gerald's microphone were holding steady. Another producer was running around trying to make sure the light was good for some shots, and they seemed a little cranky. Gerald had introduced the producer as Sam, and Sam seemed more interested in barking orders and criticising lighting choices than making small chitchat with Arnold.

That didn't faze Arnold. He knew he was rather adequate in the video shooting area, and he could roll with the punches most of the time. There was a reason he had won a, "Most Agreeable Person Ever" award back in college.

(It was a joke award, he won it at a party. Rhonda had given it to him. He thought it was quite annoying but decided it wouldn't be cool yelling at Rhonda. He wondered if it meant he was being agreeable.)

He followed them around, fiddling with the video camera and getting some pretty good video footage of the convention. Gerald was always a natural in front of the camera, and Arnold was glad that for once, he was helping to support his best friend on the projects he wanted to do instead of a crusade that Arnold was involved with. Gerald had worked hard at cinema studies in college and wanted to become a great director. This was a stepping stone in the right direction, Gerald had always reassured him.

Arnold turned the camera over to face Gerald, who was currently whipping his phone out and making faces at it, turning this way and that to figure out his angles. He had to roll his eyes at that, because damn, sometimes Gerald could be self-absorbed.

Then again, he couldn't fault Gerald for that. Tall, dark-skinned and handsome, the man had a charisma that played well to cameras and a face that was meant to smirk, laugh, or smile. It helped bring in views for his videos and made him popular with fans. It was one of his great qualities, besides the man's own kindness and generosity. The man was meant to be in front of the camera. The fact that he wanted to make good with that sort of ability just made him amazing. If Arnold were more interested in men, he figured he and Gerald would be married.

So they wouldn't have sex.

Maybe he should rethink this.

Gerald had now stopped preening in front of his front camera and was currently scrolling through his phone. "Okay, so I just got word we have permission to video the cosplay contest, Vinnie MacDonald's booth, and a panel discussion on Female Heroes or something, so that means we have to sit in on that. Arnold, you will have to help me set up the camera for that, and Sam, I need you to man the Instagram so we can film the entire program. Tim-" here Gerald hesitated. "Tim, you just do Tim, okay?"

Tim, with his oversized headphones, nodded, apparently used to doing Tim.

"Great, so Arnold, you're with me, okay?" Gerald turned directly over to Arnold. Arnold gave Gerald a thumbs up with his free hand as a reply. Gerald nodded. "Good man! I need you to follow me and film stuff, same as how we did the last video. We need good shots of the nerds, the cheering cosplayers, maybe film a few authors signing things…whaddya think?"

"It's your video, Gerald."

"Yeah, but you're my friend. I like your opinions on things."

Arnold thought for a bit. "Seems like a great idea."

His best friend grinned. The two of them touched fists and wriggled their thumbs, less a buddy handshake and more a sacred ritual between two best friends, and they were on their way.

Geek culture was a bit flashier than Arnold had realised.

While he got along with all people of all crowds in school, geek culture was something he never particularly got into. He and Gerald were in a band at some point, and Arnold and Gerald spent a lot of time playing instruments. Arnold was heavily into bass guitar at the time, while Gerald liked composing music on keyboard and drums. Both wrote songs, and Arnold still winced a little when he thought back to that time. The songs could only be best described as, "Emo Trash Lord Dark Sadness Poetry."

When the most popular genres of the 2000s were emo-pop and angry, introspective raps, it was somewhat understandable. But the songs were just pretty bad.

The point was, Arnold had spent a lot of time playing music and getting involved in school, various causes, and spending time with Gerald and friends. He hadn't had much opportunity to spend time with the nerdery- inclined, and while Curly (who went by Thaddeus in middle school, Gammel the Grey in high school, and Gammelgamer on the message boards) had invited him to join his Dungeons and Dragons group, Arnold had declined politely. Curly (who went simply by Thad now), had shrugged and went on his way.

(Arnold didn't see Thad for a while until he started playing Call of Duty with Gerald. There, they bumped into Thad in game when the man blew up his own tank on purpose to get as many dead soldiers as possible, no matter which side they were on. They gamed a lot ever since. )

So when he first stepped into the hall Gerald wanted to go into, which was featuring the semi-finals of the cosplay competition, he was feeling a little out of his element.

He and the team were sitting in one of the halls, where a stage was set up for the cosplay contest, and was filled up with 10 eager contestants here to compete for the main prize, which seemed to be $500, and a chance to compete in another cosplay contest in one of the bigger conventions. Arnold thought it was a rather weird prize for a competition that was essentially about who wore what outfit better.

Gerald had laughed in his face when Arnold brought it up before the event started. "Man, you really don't know much." He laughed. "Cosplay ain't about who looks better, or who embodies the costume better."

He paused on that, and corrected himself. "My bad, sorry. It can be about embodying the costume and the outfit. But it's mostly about love. These people-" here, he gestured towards the crowds of fans behind him. "- are people who love pop culture, because it's all stuff that has helped them through tough moments of their life, or stuff that they grew up with. It doesn't matter what or who they are. Fans are fans, and cosplayers are fans who take the step a bit further, embodying the people who are their heroes. Some of them do it with friends, and they cosplay as a group. Some go alone, and make friends with people who take photos with them. Many learn great skills making props, or sewing costumes, just so they can. And all so that they can show their dedication and love for a particular fandom. Cosplay competitions is a mixture of acting, skill, creativity, and even good script writing."

Arnold didn't believe him at first. But now, as the Iron Man cosplayer raised his hand in the iconic Iron Man pose and the gauntlet flexed and moved exactly like how it did in the movie, all while making the loud, technological sounds, Arnold was fascinated. These cosplayers were amazing! How on earth did they even make armour? He figured he would ask Gerald about it later.

"Let's give it up for Iron Man, as portrayed by contestant 15, Deraynious!" announced the emcee, and the contestant, who removed his helmet to show a smiling black man, waved as he walked off the stage.

"Our next contestant is number 16, ChibiAngela, who is cos-ing Laila Staples from Umbrella Girl!" continued the emcee and Arnold, who had set up a tripod next to him, made sure the lens was holding steady and still facing the stage. A petite Asian girl walked in, twirling the gun umbrella that the character Laila had wielded, and struck a pose.

Damn, Helga would like this. Arnold thought. He snuck his phone out from his pocket, raised it up and snapped a pic. Gerald glanced over at him, but didn't comment.

Arnold opened up his message app and sent the picture to Helga. A few minutes later, as the cosplayer ChibiAngela skipped off stage, he heard his phone buzz. He could see Gerald now frowning next to him, but he didn't raise a fuss as Arnold opened his phone to see Helga's message.

Holy criminy fuckrabbits, that's the best Laila I've seen!

He grinned as he typed back, I thought you might like it

fo real tho, it's like really amazing. where did you get this?

He was about to reply when Gerald, who also had his phone out, nudged him in the shoulder. Arnold looked down at the phone screen.

DUUUUUUDE. PHONE THAT FUCKER OFF.

Arnold, confused, looked at Gerald, who was gesturing at the camera next to him. The camera that could pick up sound, including vibrations from phones that could fuck up with the audio from the camera. The one that he was currently sitting next to.

Whoops.

The blonde man sheepishly went to switch his notification alert to silent.

Gerald looked a bit gratified, but he still looked grumpy about his normally pretty considerate friend nearly ruining his shot. Arnold decided to look innocent and keep his eye on the video camera to make sure nothing else was ruined.

Gerald, to his credit, only yelled at Arnold when the cosplay competition was over and he had marched Arnold by the arm over to a slightly quieter area of the hall.

"DUDE, YOU KNOW BETTER THAN THIS." Gerald yelled, running a hand through his shortly cropped hair. "Keep the phone on silent! That was a really great shot of Umbrella Girl, and she won second! We could have used most of the shot in edit for the finished video!"

Arnold, who was looking plenty abashed, went, "Sorry G."

Gerald sighed, most of his anger gone. "Man, you're lucky we're great friends and it was a few seconds of it. We managed to get the rest of the cosplay competition, no biggie."

He turned to look at his friend, "Just…man. Be careful next time!" he chided the blonde man. Both men were quiet for a bit before Gerald looked up, " Is it related to that embarrassing text thingy you were talking about yesterday?"

Arnold, who didn't really know how else to reply, nodded.

Gerald sighed. And then laughed. "Mannnnn, whoever this person is you're having these texting storms with, you must be really into her." He then looked a little concerned. "Aw hell no, is it that Fifty Shades woman?!"

The look on his best friend's face just made him laugh more.

"Dude, just well, make sure you don't do that again, haha!"Gerald slapped his friend on the back. "Sorry, I may have overreacted a little, it's just…I'm dying to know, man! Who are you texting? Is she cute? Where does she live? What does she look like?"

Arnold hesitated. What could he tell Gerald that wouldn't be too revealing? "It's barely a thing man…she's not interested in me. We're just talking."

"Okay, I'm calling lie on that," Gerald declared. "You only talk to people that much when you are very interested in them, especially when you grin and your eyes light up like that." A look crossed his face and Gerald dramatically pointed a finger at Arnold, "Holy crap, I knew it!"

Arnold froze.

"You're in love with Nadine, aren't you?"

What.

"Dude-"

"Fucking hell, it makes sense now!"

"Dude-"

"You and her hang out all the time!"

"We're work colleagues, we work in the same school together-"

"You always have stuff of hers lying around the house-"

"She forces them on me and makes me try them-"

"She proposed to you a few times in school! I was there when she did it once!"

"Okay, it's an inside joke, she hates students unwilling to learn, I get annoyed when children tell me that,"Bougie" is a term that's okay to use in an English essay, she jokes that we should run away together-"

"But dude!"

"Nadine once told me when we were hanging out at a bar once that she felt sorry that my football shaped head would put off girls, so she and I did a poll in the bar for all patrons to vote if they would date me, just based on my looks." Arnold replied, "95% of the respondents said yes, except for two: Nadine, and that bartender who had that football accident when he was 2 and wouldn't touch a football for fear of a breakdown. Trust me, she is not interested. She's been laughing at my ass this whole week. Her snake is on to it as well."

Gerald absorbed the long revelation and bonus survey results with amazing aplomb. "Okay, then… who else could it –"

It was like a lightbulb had finally smacked Gerald in the face. Or the truth had flashed itself on, Arnold couldn't tell, he was messing his metaphors up. All he knew was that Gerald, wide-eyed, was looking at him with something akin to awe, understanding, and shock. "NO."

Arnold was panicking now, "Dude-"

"Holy shitsnacks-"

"Gerald, listen-"

"You cannot be telling me you have a thing for Helga G. Pataki!"

There it was, out in the open. Judging by Gerald's face, he must have seen the confirmation in Arnold's face. He knew.

Arnold braced himself for the inevitable rant.

What he got instead was Gerald grinning widely, his eyes lit up and dancing. "Holy shit, it is her! Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!"

Gerald was not his best friend anymore. The tall black man, who was well-built, handsome, and usually had an air of debonair charm, was now actually jumping in absolute glee. It felt even worse than if Gerald had started ranting in anger. It was absolutely unbecoming but Arnold knew it was the way Gerald celebrated things, whether it be a win from his favourite basketball team, when he managed to raise his gaming wins. Gerald danced like he was in an 80s aerobics video.

Standing still waiting for his absolutely evil ex-best friend stop dancing to his misery, Arnold decided that he would murder Gerald in his sleep tonight. It was definitely do-able. He knew where the man lived, after all.

Gerald finally got his dance winded down, and bent over, still laughing, he grabbed the resigned blonde man by the shoulders. "Arnold, my man, you are the boldest, bravest, most amazing man I have ever been friends with."

"Mmmph," was the only sound Arnold made to that statement.

"Millions of dudes would think you were nuts."

"Plmpth."

"I think you are out of your mind, and you're my favourite cracker."

"Blep."

"I think you and her would do great."

That startled Arnold out of his monosyllabic gibberish replies. "Say what now."

Gerald smirked, "What, you thought I was going to talk you out of it?"

"Well, yeah," Arnold replied in a small voice. "Helga is…"

He trailed off, not knowing what else he could say.

"Helga G Pataki is always going to be Helga G Pataki." Gerald declared. "She was a bully, perhaps. She made you feel horrible about yourself. She also helped Phoebe stand up for herself when those doctors were being shitty towards her. She also fought Eugene's shitty attackers in college, and made every bit of college life better for him. Phoebe never talked much about Helga, but when she did, it was always something she did that was amazing. Helga Pataki is the same girl she has been since elementary school, but she is also a better version of the same girl, and has learnt from her mistakes. She was with us during the San Lorenzo trip, remember? She was angry at you. She made you feel responsible for your mistakes. Yet she also convinced me and Phoebe to help you, and she could have abandoned us during any part of the jungle. If anything, Helga Pataki is a loyal son of a bitch, and if you say you like her, I will say, 'Go for it.' She's cool. "

If Gerald thought that it was a bit out of character for his best friend to hug him very tightly afterwards, he didn't say a word. He figured his best friend needed it.

Helga frowned a little when she didn't get a message back from Arnold after an hour. The man was usually pretty prompt with messages, and she really did want to find out where he got the photo from. Was there another cosplaying event happening that she didn't know about?

She couldn't dwell on the subject any longer, as now Fran, who had turned up at some point in another immaculate, flashy outfit and heels so high they could have been on drugs, was now pushing her over to talk to the moderator of the panel discussion, alongside the other writers that were featured in the discussion. Helga had met one of the Writers before, a lovely writer and artist who posted an ongoing series about Monster girls, but hadn't met the other two. She gave the writer she recognised a wave, who waved back, and shook hands with the other two, a portly man whose name she vaguely recognised as the author of a very long graphic novel about warring kingdoms, and another writer who she vaguely knew was the Marvel superhero writer.

They all made small talk in their little groups, while their agents, who were all there, took the opportunity to network and raise their profiles. It was similar to parents in playgroup who were watching their little kids play together, and trying to one up the other on accomplishments.

" Well, my client Helga Pataki has managed to make New York's Bestsellers list many times all by herself." She could hear Fran brag. " And can you believe it, she's under 30 and still single? I swear, if you have any thing you want her to write about, she could do an-ny-thing-"

Oh god why did it seem like Fran was pimping her out like a show horse? Helga winced.

" Your agent is very ...persuasive!" Quipped the writer that Helga knew.

" I mean, I totally love her, but mannnnn." Helga grumbled, causing the other writer to giggle, and making Helga smile in spite of herself. "How's the girlfriend, Noelle?"

" Same old." The writer shrugged. " We're considering getting a cat, but we're now arguing about cat names, and getting the room ready for the cat to sleep in, and Tessa wants to make a cat patio."

Helga laughed. She had always wanted a cat, having pictured herself living in a romantic Parisian apartment, wearing berets and striped tops and writing while a Persian cat twined itself around her ankles. But when she stopped being 18 and realised that she could be a writer no matter where she was, she gave up on the Paris dream, only keeping the cat part. It didn't help that currently, she was also living with a drag queen roommate who was allergic to a lot of animals, including, unfortunately, cats. Helga figured she could probably get one when she moved out of the apartment, but then again, she really loved rooming with Eugene and wouldn't trade it for anything else. " I'm sure Tessa would calm down a bit once you get the cat, Noelle."

They shrugged, " Perhaps. We're looking into a few rescue kittens, but I do want to consider older cats-"

" You should go to someone I know!" That was the Marvel writer, who had blurted it out and started blushing when both Helga and Noelle turned to look at her, a flush vaguely discernible from her tan skin. "Sorry, it's just- I love cats, and there's someone I know who rescues kittens and older cats for a living, and she helped me adopt my Shiraz."

" I too know someone who rescues cats." Said the male writer, who had overheard the conversation. His light, conversational voice did not seem to match his big size. " My neighbour Melinda works with an animal Organization, and they are always in need of adopters-"

This vein of conversation would have continued on for another hour or so if they hadn't been stopped. They managed a good ten minutes talking about cat adoptions and cat toys before the moderator, a rather tall, bland man, had interrupted them, and told them they had to stop talking about cats and maybe start talking about who should go first in the panel discussion.

The writers merely grinned at each other when the moderator turned away. If they ran out of topics, at least they would still have cats to discuss. That was something they all agreed with.

Arnold and Gerald were now standing outside a convention hall, watching Sam and Tim fight over…something.

Considering the fact that he had heard stories from Gerald about how Tim was usually a rather neurotic, boring man who went on and on about subjects that never really went anywhere, he was rather surprised to see Tim fire a very sharp insult at Sam, who returned back with an angry retort about Tim's oatmeal face. It was rather childish and weird.

" So you're saying these two have a thing for each other?" asked Arnold, staring wide-eyed in disbelief at the two people now yelling at each other about socks.

Gerald, who seemed to be more used to this, replied, " Yeap." He was now scrolling through his own messages, entirely bored of their fighting. "We don't question it anymore. I just want them to fuck it out but well…"

They made a rather odd couple, Arnold thought. Sam, who was taller than Tim, had hair buzzed close to the scalp on the left, and dyed the remaining shoulder length hair a deep turquoise. They were dressed in a shirt covered with jellyfish, and wore gold, rimmed glasses with circular rims, along with badges that declared they were part of the queer mafia. Tim, in contrast, was dressed in a polo shirt and old, frayed, cargo shorts, and had brown, shaggy hair and thick black glasses. Where Sam was flashy, angry and quick, and bristled, Tim was mild, bland and rather boring. A hipster and a tech nerd. It was like fire and ice.

But then again, Arnold reasoned, couples could happen no matter what and how.

Gerald, who had pocketed his phone, finally turned to yell at the both of them to shut up, and to pack up, they had to set up for the panel discussion they were supposed to be at 5 minutes ago. Both Sam and Tim stopped fighting, but both were unhappy about it. All four trudged off to the hall the panel discussion was supposed to be held at.

Considering the fact that Arnold had spent the past few days exchanging texts with Helga, it had only hit him then that Helga would be participating in this one. She had mentioned that she felt a bit nervous about the entire thing, and Arnold had sympathised. She bounced off a few ideas off him, and he figured that she must have gotten some decent ideas, because she seemed to spend the rest of the evening coming up with notes and ideas on her phone. He wasn't too sure about it.

A bit nervous about how it was to see someone he clearly had a crush on so unexpectedly, he would have fretted a bit more if it were not for two things:

1) Gerald, who had taken one look at the program and saw the names of the participating writers, and one look at Arnold, and started snickering behind his hand.

2) They had entered the open hall which was empty but filling up fast, and two figures, sitting closest to the back of the hall, had turned around upon hearing the doors open and had turned to look at the new entrants. The two figures were familiar to both Gerald and Arnold.

"Gerald, and -Arnold? What a pleasant surprise!" That was Phoebe, who had dropped her phone upon seeing the two men. Gerald, who was still snickering, had started turning his laugh into a coughing fit the moment he saw his ex.

" Hey Phoebe," Arnold greeted, pushing down his nervousness. He turned towards the taller figure and mustered a smile, " Hey Patty. Helga mentioned you were in town."

Patty looked back at Arnold with a smile. " She did. She also mentioned she saw you."

Arnold's heart gave a little squee upon knowing that Helga had talked about him and tried to stop himself from smiling automatically, but he might have failed as Patty's eyes narrowed a little, tilting her head questioningly. Thankfully, Gerald saved the day by turning on the Johansson Charm.

He flashed a smile at Patty. " Hey girl, loving the arms. Where and how do you work out?"

Patty smirked. " Anywhere I can, and plenty. I see you're not too bad yourself."

" I could use a little more muscle tone. Tell me your ways!"

" I could, but only if-"

Arnold turned back to look at Phoebe, who was glancing at him with a smile. " What brings you here to the convention, Arnold?" asked Phoebe, watching as Patty started demonstrating moves for Gerald to try out later at the gym. " I know Gerald had to film stuff here, but I didn't know you were interested in this too."

Arnold gestured towards the camera he was holding. " Gerald's camera guy had to drop out, so I subbed in."

Phoebe nodded in understanding.

Gerald and Arnold excused themselves after a minute because they had to set up, and as they left, Arnold noticed Patty whispering something fiercely to Phoebe, who giggled and whispered something back.

He decided not to dwell too much on the matter. He was here to work after all. Crush on Helga or not, he was here to help his best friend who had shown him tons of support, and that was the only thing that mattered.