Bound By Brushstrokes

Part-4

At Convention event :
      
       As Karishma said, day two of the convention was even more hectic. The crowd had grown, and the energy was buzzing with excitement. artists, fans, and professionals packed every corner, making it feel almost overwhelming. Despite the intensity, the day flew by, filled with amazing conversations and connections.My sister hadn't tried to call, text me, or send a friend of a friend of a friend to hunt me down at the convention. I was grateful, but the longer we went without talking, the heavier the dread at our impending conversation felt in my chest. When I got home, I would meet with her in person and, even if it took hours, we would get through all of us. It would be ugly and painful, but I wouldn't let it happen anymore.

I was in the middle of those thoughts and shifting through the various scenarios at our table Karishma when rushed back from her walk and mingled in the convention hall and grabbed my table. "Haseena! We have to talk to this person right now !"

"What's up?" I got up when she pulled again, noticing the excitement painted all over her face and in her voice. "You met a celebrity?"

"Even better." she says, as Karishma led me through the crowd, her excitement infectious as she dragged me into the Publisher Hall. We weaved through the tables, passing big names like Marvel and Dark horse, and ended up at a smaller, more modest booth. A striking woman stood up behind a "Two Raven Publishing" banner, featuring two black birds circling like a yin-yang. She had an almost Viking-like aura with intricate tattoos and braided hair, yet her smile was welcoming, and her eyes sparkled with a mischievous energy. I immediately felt like we were about to have an interesting conversation.

On the table in front of her, one side was arranged with hardcover graphic novels while the other displayed fictional literature. I was drawn to the layout of the covers and the evident effort put into their design. Part of me wanted to pick up a few and read through them based solely on their presentation.

"Haseena, this is Reema," Karishma said, looking at me with a sparkle in her eyes. "She has an offer I don't think we should refuse."

Reema towered over me, even with the table between us, as she stood and offered her hand with a smile. "I mean, you can if you really want." Her voice had a pleasantly gruff quality. "I've seen your artwork, Haseena. Very top-notch stuff."

The compliment left me struggling not to study my shoes. I took her hand and felt its warmth and strength. I definitely had the wimpy grip between the two of us. "Nice to meet you. What's the offer?"

The other woman grinned and pulled her hand back. "To the point,my favorite. I want to represent you both in publishing. My company is small, but we are a lot more flexible than other places," she said, nodding toward the front of the hall, "and I can offer you better rates."

Karishma's hand squeezed mine. "We can get into retail stores! Not just the local places, but the big chains as well."

Reema held up a hand. "Within reason. Like I said, we are small, and small publishers like me tend to get the boot a lot, but I’ll fight for it. And I won’t lie bringing you two on would be a big boost for us, so we may not have to fight too hard if we can get your fans to help out."

My head swam with the information. Just the idea that our story could transition from being online only to print without relying on crowdfunding was something I had only daydreamed about.

"What does your business model look like?" I asked.

Grinning, Reema dove into the details of her company, quickly transforming from Battle Viking to Publishing Viking as she discussed her approach, her plan to capitalize on current trends, and even ways to involve readers in project development.

"And," she said at the end, "if you two are interested in helping with other comics, I do have a few other writers and artists, but that's up to you two." She looked between us. "I know it's a risk, so if you want a clause in the contract that allows you to terminate at any time, I can include that. I don’t want you two to feel trapped in something you aren’t happy with."

I glanced at Karishma, who looked both excited and a little nervous as she turned her gaze toward me. After a moment, I asked Reema, "Can we have a quick moment?"

Reema nodded. "Take your time."

We walked to the far corner of the room, and I waited until a group passed by before asking, "Are you really sure about this, Karishma? We've been approached by publishers before."

"We have, but how many of them were as transparent about saying we’d be a boost to them?"

"None of them." I looked over my shoulder at Reema, who smiled and chatted with another person at her table. "Is this something you really want to do, Karishma?"

Her hand rested on my shoulder. "Only if you want to do it."

I shifted my attention back to her, studying her face as I continued to process everything. "It's going to be a big risk."

Karishma laughed. "This weekend has been nothing but big risks."

My hand, still in hers, squeezed her fingers. "Yeah, it really has." I leaned my head forward and pressed my forehead against hers.

"Okay, let's do it. Let's do all the things. We'll date, get published, and anything else you want to do."

She pulled away to look up at me. "And what do you want to do?"

"Right now?" I leaned forward to kiss her, savoring the softness of her lips against mine. "I just want to love you."

The following conversation with Reema was the easiest thing I’d ever done. We shook hands and exchanged business cards, setting up a voice call for a week later to discuss everything once we’d all recovered from the convention. I felt happy and energized, even if I was exhausted.

Once we were back at the hotel, I received a text from my father: Your trophy is fine. I’ve spoken to Shara. We will have a family dinner when you get back. Can you bring your girlfriend?

I must have stared at that text for the better part of five minutes while my brain tried to process 1) my father sent me a text and 2) what he’d said. A family dinner was my father’s way of signaling that there would be a conversation, and he would have the final say. The last time my father stepped into a squabble between Shara and me was when she tried to dictate which college I should attend. Outside of that, he let us sort it out because “Adults do not have their parents fight their battles at work.” And how did he know I had a girlfriend? I didn’t even know I had a girlfriend until the day before.

With shaking hands, I took a few attempts to text back:

                      She lives in another state.-

His reply was almost instant:

-When you can, bring her. Your mother and I would like to meet the person who makes you smile.

A sob escaped my throat as I reread the text message a second, third, and then fourth time. Tears welled up, blurring my vision of the screen, and in the next moment, the tears that wouldn’t fall the day before came pouring out like rivers.

I must have been crying for five minutes when Karishma entered the room with our takeout dinner and nearly dropped it upon seeing me. Rushing to my side, she placed her hands on my shoulders. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"Nothing's wrong," I said between sobs. "Everything is great." I grabbed my phone and showed her the messages. "You have to come to dinner."

Continue....