ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴊᴀᴍᴇs

Epilogue

About a week after my tea date (yes, I'm allowing myself to believe it was the best non-planned date I have ever had), something extraordinary all but makes me pass out from disbelief.

It's mid-afternoon on a Saturday (one of our busiest days), and I'm filling tea orders alongside Beth. I can tell that she has noticed (and appreciated), my chipper mood since Thursday, but she has not made it a point to ask me why. I do not blame her; I have been an intolerable grouch since Benjamin left. But hey, who knew texting back and forth with Sebastian these past days could fill me with the same joy as that serendipitous night at the tea shop?

The only thing not "organic" in our tea shop is an old, square TV like those you see in diners or little-town cafes. We usually have it on, but we keep the noise low, as to not overpower the customers' chatter or gentle music playing on the loudspeakers. I have just completed my current customer's order of our autumn special when Beth jabs me in the side with her elbow.

"Ow! What?" I whirl to face my friend, who is grinning and pointing to the TV.

"Look!" I follow her gaze to see a panel of people sitting in front of a white backdrop; speakers are placed in front of each person, along with glasses of water. The convention. Of course, how could I have forgotten? "Turn it up!" Beth looks around for the remote and changes the sound level to audible. I spot several of the well-known Marvel actors and actresses... Jeremy Renner, Scarlett Johansson, Chris Evans, Robert Downey, Jr., Chris Hemsworth, and... my heart skips a beat, cueing the massive blush I can feel blooming on my smiling face.

"Oh my gosh, is that Sebastian Stan? They didn't say he was gonna be on this panel!" Beth exclaims, maybe louder than desired. But my cares melt away as I continue to watch them laugh and chatter away, their adoring fans leaning in. One camera focuses on Sebastian as he is asked a question.

"What is your favorite thing about being an actor?" He leans back in his seat, thoughtful.
"Despite what everybody thinks, being an actor is hard." Laughter erupts from the attending audience, even the panel attendees. He chuckles too, shaking his head, until, "No, I'm exaggerating. But being an actor isn't all about the acting, or the lights, or effects. Most of the time, it's about you guys - the fans. The fans are the whole reason why we're doing what we're doing. And hey, even if tomorrow doesn't come, or the next movie doesn't produce, then we know that we will still have you all." He lifts his gaze, looking straight into the camera. Right at me. "Things can be replaced, people can't."

Cheering echoes from the crowd as my insides burn with warmth. Beth nudges me, smirking at my apparent glee. The scene transfers to an entertainment anchor who is hosting a gossip show. The woman nods and replies, "Thank you, Jerry, for that exclusive look into our downtown's Marvel panel this weekend. Don't forget to buy tickets, everyone!"

"Speaking of these superheroes, we have recent news about a hot new topic: is Sebastian Stan a secret bachelor? Tattoos prove otherwise! Today before the panel, fans spotted a swirled tattoo on the side of our "Winter Soldier's" neck! Our devoted lovers of Marvel and respected admirers of Mr. Stan report that this tattoo has fairly recent, with the doing of..."

The lady's tinny voice fades from my comprehension as I watch the posted photos flip through the screen. Everything around me grows dim as I continue staring at the one picture they had taken probably from before today's panel: him, in a pair of classy sunglasses, trench coat barely hiding the item of new interest. An intricately swirled and thick-lined tattoo begins at the base of his ear and scrawls under his jawline, stopping half-way to his chin. My breath hitches in my throat.

That was my tattoo.

My tattoo.

I feel a hand grip my shoulder and I turn my shocked face to meet Beth's equally, if not more astonished expression. Beth, my closest friend, is the only person outside of my family who knows my tattoo. Knows what this means. "Eliza," she murmurs, "Eliza." I can't formulate the words, either.

"Hey, could you turn that down? Gossip shows really aren't our thing," one of our co-workers at the counter teases, giving us a quick smile. I snatch the remote from Beth's hand and turn it off, returning to my work. I'm sure that my face is a tomato by now. I feel Beth bump me with her hip.

"Care to explain what your tattoo is doing on Sebastian freaking Stan? Do you have his, too?" Her hushed voice does not sound accusing, but curious in an 'I-have-got-to-know-or-else-I-am-gonna-die' manner. I smirk, glancing up at her.

"You'd never believe me if I told you." She arches an eyebrow in response.

"Try me."

"Well, it all started with a Rolex, a backpack, irritable weather, and two chamomile chai teas."