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It was one of those mornings where Splinter overslept, thus forfeiting the living room to his sons.
Raph and Donnie sat side-by-side in front of the projector screen, beads of sweat dotting their bandanas. They jostled their controllers while frantically mashing buttons: a pair of pixelated Lou Jitsus pummeled one evil construction worker after another.
They were attempting to beat their father's high score in Hot Soup: The Game, and doing so meant achieving a perfect combo-streak on every level. Mikey - their cheering section and occasional backseat gamer - watched the nerve-wracking endeavor from the recliner's lumpy cushion.
"Watch out, Dee," Raph warned. "You got a couple of crusty contractors on your flank!"
"Copy that," Donnie activated one of his power-ups. "Let's see your workman's comp cover this !"
"Only three more levels to go and no more lives left!" Mikey's eyes darted from one side of the screen to the other, "I can't watch!" He squeaked, hiding his face behind his hands, only to peer through the gaps in between his fingers, not wanting to miss out on the action.
" Guys! Guys! Guys! " Suddenly, Leo burst into the scene, stumbling over his feet. He punted their Pixel2 gaming console, the projector, and the milk crate it was stacked on across the room, "You're never gonna believe what came in the mail today!"
"Oh gee , allow me to make an educated guess," Donnie said impassively. "Is it a brother who's observant of his surroundings? I've always wanted one of those..."
" Umm ... is it an overwhelming sense of deja vu ?" Raph guessed next.
Mikey fluttered his hands, " Ooh , Wait! I think I know what it is! Don't tell me! Don't tell me! " They all waited, but the Boxshell gave up, "Alright, tell me!"
" Voila! " Leo fanned out four thick booklets with glossy, holographic covers. "It's this year's GalaxyCon exhibition guide~!"
Leo's intrusion was forgiven. They all settled down with their copies and flipped through the sleek, colorful pages with collective wonder.
"Ah, GalaxyCon ," Donnie lamented fondly, sagging into one of their bean bag chairs. "The mecca of all things pop culture. I wonder what the ol' con's got in store for us this year…"
" OmiGOSH !" Mikey nearly fell from the recliner. "They're reopening the Food Truck Promenade! Overpriced fancy mac and cheese here I come , baby!"
"Ha! There's gonna be a Pro-Wrestling event down at the Main Stage!" Raph gleamed. "' Free swag bags and photo-ops with some of your favorite wrestlers, '" he read aloud, "Now that's what I'm talkin' about!"
" Wrestling-shemestling !" Leo chided, "The Dealer's Hall is selling real weapons! " Leo paused, an asterisk catching his eye. He deflated, " Ugh . Real replica weapons. Pff , lame ..."
Donnie leafed through his booklet, "Yeah, I'm not seeing anything that interesting save for the ' Science of Chairs' panel— Holy Halogens! What's this?!" He shoved his snout deep into his guidebook. " The original Atomic Lass is going to be interacting with fans at the Autograph Pavilion?!" He felt lightheaded by the time he seized Raph by the shoulders, his heart aflutter, "Is the room spinning, or is it just me!?"
"Oh, it's just you," Raph smirked, handing Donnie a brown paper bag, "Deep breathes, casanova …"
Ignoring Raph's little jibe, Donnie took the bag and used it to regulate his breathing; the paper crinkled noisily, expanding then shrinking, and so on...
"I'm confused," Mikey raised a brow, now sitting upside down in the recliner, his feet dangling over the headrest. "Didn't we all see Atomic Lass last year at FanCon during the Jupiter Jim reunion panel?"
" We did," Raph nodded, "But a certain somebody was too busy playing a certain purple game to be bothered—"
"We don't need to talk about that , thank you very much!" Donnie cut Raph off by dramatically crumpling the paper bag into a ball. "What we should be talking about is how I'll get to meet my hero, slash secret not-so-secret crush, in PERSON! Do you know what this means?!"
"She needed the money~?" Leo said slyly from the other bean bag chair.
"Please, Leo, as if Atomic Lass would only do these sort of gigs strictly for the money," Donnie tutted. "No, what this means is I only have three weeks, two days, and approximately 17 hours to prepare for the ultimate fan experience of my entire LIFE ! Enraptured squee~! "
Donnie danced out of the living room, laughing and clicking his heels.
Raph, Leo, and Mikey turned to one another. They hadn't seen their brother this ecstatic since NASA restored Pluto's planetary status. If they listened closely, they could hear Donnie celebrating the news from his lab with confetti cannons and noisemakers.
" Shouuld we worry about that?" Leo jutted his thumb in the direction of Donnie's festive dubstep.
"What? Donnie putting all his eggs in one basket for the celebrity meeting of a lifetime?" Raph shrugged. " Nahhh! What could possibly go wrong?"
After three weeks, two days, and approximately 17 hours, the day of the convention arrived, and Donnie was over the moon.
This year's GalaxyCon already surpassed last year's attendance cap, drawing in the masses with an expansive list of activities and attractions. It was every New Yorker's worst nightmare: nothing but slow-walkers and long lines to the bathroom, yet for the seasoned con-goer, it was all a part of the experience.
"Food trucks! Food trucks! Food trucks!" Mikey chanted from the safety of Raph's shoulders. He rocked to and fro, clinging onto his brother's space helmet.
"We just got here, Mikey!" said Raph, keeping his youngest brother tethered by his legs. "Besides, we gotta make sure Donnie gets to the Autograph Pavilion safe 'n sound! This crowd's no joke!"
Not too far from where Raph and Mikey stood by the information kiosk, Donnie and Leo were posing for a convention photographer. Although Donnie loved the attention, it was clear he was anxious to get a move-on. He spent weeks preparing for this day: marathoning Atomic Lass movies, memorizing trivia, and converting his bedroom into a shrine for his beloved space heroine.
"Okay! Let's get a move on, people!" Donnie clapped, starting off without his brothers. "I cannot jeopardize my chances of meeting Atomic Lass!"
"Whoa, slow down, dude! What's the rush?" Leo caught Donnie by the wrist before his twin could bolt off into the chaos of the show floor. "You've got your ticket print-out. It's not like they're gonna turn you away!"
"Need I remind you that it is of utmost importance I secure an optimal position in line?" Donnie informed irritably. "Ideally, somewhere in the middle and or near a froyo cart - for sustenance's sake. Now, less talkie more walkie!"
"Hey, Leo! Donnie!" Raph called out. "Someone wants to take a group shot of us!"
Donnie grumbled as Leo dragged him back towards Raph and Mikey for another round of photos. This time, they were swarmed by folks who complimented their craftsmanship, their attention to detail, and what a rarity it was to see all four turtle-aliens together!
Once the last flashbulb went off, Donnie made a b-line for the Autograph Pavilion's entrance, leaving his brothers to navigate the endless sea of cosplayers and normies clogging the halls.
The Autograph Pavilion was situated in a massive glass atrium. Large banners depicting famous sci-fi celebs and comic book artists hung overhead from the rafters. Below, a maze of stanchion posts and curtains divided fans into color-coated sections. Staff members used pocket-megaphones to direct traffic while volunteers checked people's print-outs, ensuring everyone was standing in the correct queue.
Donnie was easy to spot, folding and unfolding his print-out; the last one admitted into the queue for Atomic Lass.
" Oof , back of the line," Leo patted Donnie's shoulder. "Sorry, bud."
"Are you kidding ?" Donnie beamed. "With nobody behind me, I'll have all the time I want with Atomic Lass!"
"You sure you're gonna be ok here by yourself?" asked Raph, tucking his space helmet under his arm. "Cuz we could wait with you—"
" Affirmative . Now go! Shoo shoo ! I'll be finished faster than the half-life of Ununtrium!" Donnie waved off his bros, teeming with excitement. He watched the fans climb onto the other autograph stages, where they shook hands and snapped photos with their favorite artists and performers. Soon, that would be him and Atomic Lass ; the very thought of it made Donnie absolutely jazzed!
"' kaaay ! Have fun~!" Mikey grabbed Raph's head and turned it towards the corridor on their right. "C'mon , Raph! The food trucks! "
" Heh , alright, Big Man, you win," Raph chuckled. "How 'bout we go get somethin' to eat, check out the Main Stage, and then hit up the Dealer's Hall? Donnie should be done by then, so we can all loop around to the stuff we missed!"
"Sounds good to me, Capitán! " Leo saluted. "Up, wait a sec, someone wants our photo..."
Donnie was not done when Raph, Leo, and Mikey finished perusing the Dealer's Hall.
They expected to find the Softshell somewhere towards the front of the line since they left him a few hours ago. But Donnie was only halfway there, still in high spirits, snacking on an extra-large cup of vanilla froyo.
Raph decided they'd return to the Food Truck Promenade to kill time…
…
and that's when it happened.
Mikey was at the condiments station, doctoring his triple-fried corn dog with all the fixings when he heard a couple of cosplayers talking about Atomic Lass. Reminded of Donnie, Mikey innocently tuned in on their conversation.
" Michael ," Mind-Raph appeared, shaking his head. " What did we say about eavesdropping? "
"I wasn't droppin' no eaves," Mikey replied, twirling a bottle of ketchup. "I was simply listening in on a pleasant discussion about Donnie's all-time favorite-"
"I can't believe I wasted hours on that stupid line for Atomic Lass!" Complained a Red Fox cosplayer. "She is so rude!"
What the what?! Mikey's eyes bulged as he squeezed the ketchup bottle, drowning his poor corn dog in a pile of red goop.
"Fam, if I knew that's who you were in line for, I would've stopped you!" Said an Atomic Lad cosplayer. "Everyone knows she only does these gigs for the money. She could care less about her fans!" The Atomic Lad continued, "A few years ago, at SuperCon , I heard she made someone cry! I feel bad for the poor souls still waiting for her..."
Oh no, Mikey's heart was racing. Donnie!
Mikey abandoned his ketchup-doused corn dog, scrambling through the clusters of people camped around the food trucks, apologizing to those he bumped into. After much fancy footwork, Mikey reached the patch of sidewalk where Leo and Raph sat on the curb, sharing a bag of churros.
"Y'need a lil' somethin’-somethin' for a tip, Miguel?" Leo asked, already fishing around his side-bag for a dollar bill.
"It's not that! It's Donnie!" Mikey panted. "I heard these two cosplayers saying Atomic Lass is nothin' but bad news!"
"Hey, what did we say about listening in on other people's conversations, hm?" Raph gave Mikey a firm, disapproving stare.
"Well, it's a good thing I did!" Mikey retorted. "If we don't stop Donnie from meeting Atomic Lass, he'll be crushed!"
Leo whipped out his phone, " Orrr , we could search for some reliable sources on the interwebs and see what they have to say about— oh wow , you were not joking! Look at these blog posts! She is terrible!"
Raph and Mikey hovered over Leo's shoulders, reading one convention horror story after another. They imagined their sensitive brother in each scenario: absolutely devastated - just like the time NASA revoked Pluto's planetary status.
"We gotta get Donnie outta there before he gets his heart smashed!" Raph exclaimed, scarfing down the last of his churro. "Mad Dogs! Let's-"
"Oh, wooow , your costumes! They're great! And so clean too!" A woman with a baby in her arms stopped Raph's heroic gesture. She held up her camera, "Would you mind taking a photo with my baby? He loves cosplay!"
Leo and Mikey facepalmed, knowing Raph couldn't say no to a baby . And saying 'yes' to one person's photo provided other passerbys with the opportunity to take pictures as well.
In short: they were going to be a while...
By the time Leo, Raph, and Mikey fled the throngs of selfie-sticks and camcorders, the Autograph Pavilion was empty. All of the other queues were gone, save for Atomic Lass's — and Donnie was next .
" Oh no ," Mikey fretted. "How're we gonna get him away from her now?!"
"Leave it to Leon~!" Leo puffed out his chest. The Slider confidently strode over to his twin, who didn't seem thrilled to see him, "Hey, DonTron! What is up? How're things? Say, listen , you won't believe what Mikey overheard down at the food trucks—"
"Not now, Nardo!" Donnie fussed. "My big moment is nigh! I must concentrate..."
"But—"
"I'll handle this!" Raph brushed Leo aside. "Donnie, you can't meet Atomic Lass!"
" Hmph . My proximity begs to differ…" Donnie gestured to his position in the queue.
"No, listen!" Raph stressed, "Mikey overheard some people sayin' Atomic Lass hates her fans!"
"She made a man in his forties cry!" Mikey interjected. "His forties!"
"Yeah, she's even got an F-ranking on 'Rancid Tomatillos!'" Leo showed Donnie his phone, still open on Atomic Lass's profile.
"Ah yes, let me believe the hearsay from strangers on internet message boards," Donnie skimmed through the reviews, devoid of concern. "And in case you couldn't tell, that was sarcasm ."
"But Donnie!" Mikey frowned.
"Hey, you're up!" A staff member summoned Donnie to the autographing stage with the blare from their megaphone.
Donnie beamed. He eagerly bounded up the steps and onto the carpeted metal platform, much to his brothers' dismay.
There, stationed behind a long covered table, was Atomic Lass — well, her actress, of course. She was supposedly close in age with Marcus Moncrief, yet her manicured features made her appear years younger.
" At least it's not another Atomic Lad… " Atomic Lass whispered to her assistant, seated beside her.
"Ms. Lass!" Donnie greeted, enthusiastically outstretching his hand. "Let me say what an honor it is to—"
"I don't shake hands. Especially when I don't know where they've been," Atomic Lass interrupted, using her marker to move Donnie's hand away.
"Ah, but of course! My apologies!" Donnie hastily recoiled his hand. "One can never be too careful with renegade pathogenic bacteria lurking about! Like in ' Atomic Lass meets the Microbe Hunters!'"
Atomic Lass exchanged a look with her assistant. The reference to one of her (obscure) titular roles did not impress her. Raph, Mikey, and Leo cringed from secondhand embarrassment.
"Here! These are for you!" A mechanical arm from Donnie's battle-shell presented a bouquet of purple flowers, somewhat wilted. "They're Cosmos bipinnatus! Get it? 'Cosmos?' Pretty clever, amiright~?'"
Atomic Lass (surprisingly) accepted the flowers. Just as Donnie thought he had earned her good graces, she tossed them over her shoulder and straight into a pile of identical bouquets her other fans had gifted, " Uh-huh . How thoughtful of you."
Donatello, you fool! Donnie cursed himself. I knew I should've gone with the recipe for Mercury Muffins from 'The Official Jupiter Jim Cosmic Cookbook!'
"So, you got somethin' for me to sign, or what?" Atomic Lass asked, strumming her fingers, bored.
"Actually...," Donnie triggered a polaroid camera to spring out from his battle-shell. "I was hoping we could snap a selfie together, and then you could sign that for me! I have the perfect frame for it at home—"
"I don't do photos," Ms. Lass stated bluntly.
"Oh," Donnie's smile faltered. "But I thought since everyone else was getting their photos taken at the other—"
"Look, do you want me to sign somethin' for you or not ?" Ms. Lass impatiently tapped her marker against the tabletop.
Donnie flinched; his face fell. Each rap of her marker chipped away at his heart, "Uh, j-just a second, ma'am…"
He quickly patted himself down, looking for something meaningful to offer. The longer it took to find a suitable item, the more Donnie could feel the actress becoming annoyed with him.
Hesitantly, he held out his tech-brace to Atomic Lass, who snatched it from him. She signed her name - fast and sharp - then carelessly dropped it onto the table, "There you go," was all she said as she capped her marker.
"Oh...," Donnie awkwardly picked up the tech-brace, "... thank you?" He was startled when Atomic Lass pushed back her chair, her assistant helping her into an oversized plush coat. "W-wait! That's it? "
"What did you expect? A karaoke duet?" Snipped Ms. Lass.
"Tempting, but no, not quite," Donnie drew in a breath, "It's just… when I heard you were going to be here, it was like a dream come true! Atomic Lass is one of my heroes! I thought getting to meet you in person would be—"
" Special? 'The ultimate fan experience of your entire life?'" Atomic Lass snorted, "Keep dreaming, kid. " She walked off the stage with her assistant, leaving Donnie alone on the platform, stunned.
He couldn't understand what he did wrong. He did everything a good fan should've done: he was courteous, friendly, and his request was modest and not creepy in the slightest!
So why was she so… mean?
A volunteer ushered Donnie from the stage. He didn't notice - too distracted by the autographed tech-brace in his hands, his thumb grazing Atomic Lass' signature.
"Donnie!"
Donnie glanced up, numb. Raph, Leo, and Mikey were already by his side, sharing the same urgent expression.
"There's not much time left!" Raph hoisted Donnie onto his back. "The show floor's about to close! If we hurry, we can at least get to that panel about the chairs!"
"Your attention, please, GalaxyCon attendants !" Said a voice from over the intercom system. " The time now is 5PM. GalaxyCon has officially come to a close! Please make your way towards the nearest exit, and thank you for coming to GalaxyCon~! Until next year…"
The voice rambled on: thanking sponsors and urging guests to finish their last-minute payment transactions. It was then that Donnie realized he blew his entire convention for the disappointment of a lifetime.
"It's okay, guys," Donnie reassured brokenly, climbing down from Raph's shoulders. "Let's just… go home."
The ride home in the turtle tank was quiet and stiff. Raph, Leo, and Mikey didn't have the heart to share their memorable con moments, fearful that they'd only upset Donnie even more.
Donnie was no longer the same exuberant turtle he was that morning. He pushed past the curtain to his bedroom, tired. He forgot how he decorated his room with Atomic Lass paraphernalia; seeing her face everywhere made his heart twist.
He tore everything down: the posters, the string lights, the wall decals, and the cardboard cut-outs. He crammed the rest of the knickknacks cluttering his desk into the corner of his room, a mournful heap of plastic and hurt feelings.
With a weary sigh, Donnie detached his battle-shell and left it lying on the floor. He climbed into bed, flopped onto his back, and stared blankly at the glow-in-the-dark stars still stuck to his ceiling. He'd scrape those off later when he had the energy.
He studied Atomic Lass's autograph; the cursive only brought back a gut punch of emotions. He considered soaking his tech-brace in rubbing alcohol when a tender knock on the doorway shifted his thoughts.
"Donald?" Mikey poked his head through the purple curtain; Leo and Raph's heads were neatly stacked above his. "May we come in?"
Donnie didn't say anything. Instead, he rolled onto his side and faced the wall, prompting his brothers to enter.
Mikey invited himself to sit at the foot of Donnie's bed, a sympathetic hand resting on his brother's ankle, petting it delicately.
"You ok, Donnie?" Leo asked softly, perched at the top of the bunk bed's ladder.
Donnie didn't answer — he didn't trust his voice not to waver. He knew Mikey could probably see the tears stinging his eyes, and he was grateful the Boxshell didn't draw Leo and Raph's attention to them.
"We're sorry your meet 'n greet was a bust," Mikey murmured.
"Not as sorry as I am," Donnie mumbled. "I suppose the sayings are true: You should never meet your heroes."
"We did try to warn you…," Leo pointed out.
"Not helping, Leo," Raph grunted.
"What? We did!"
"No, no, Leo's right," Donnie admitted. "It was I who blinded thyself with such high expectations…" The Softshell sat up, clutching his pillow. "I just wish I didn't waste my entire GalaxyCon on… that whole situation. "
"Hey, there's always FanCon!" Leo sat next to Donnie, slinging an arm over his shoulder. "And it's not like there won't be another GalaxyCon in the future!"
"Yeah! And at least she didn't kidnap any of us like that time with Mr. Moncrief!" Raph added.
"I guess… ," Donnie agreed half-heartedly. "I-it's just…," his bottom lip quivered, "I was really looking f-forward t-to—"
Nope. Donnie couldn't do it. He came undone, unable to hold back the tears streaming down his cheeks. He sobbed into his pillow; a sad, trembling mess.
Mikey was the first to hug him, while Leo rubbed his back in slow, comforting circles.
"Hey, it's okay, Don," Raph soothed, "We totally get it."
"And speakin' of getting things, we got you some stuff from around the con!" Mikey handed Donnie a greasy take-out container. "Here! I saved you my leftovers from the mac and cheese truck!"
"What?" Donnie sniffled, wiping his eyes with a tissue Raph offered him. He accepted the damp cardboard in his hands, "A-Are you sure you want me to have this?" He knew how much his younger brother craved the rich pasta.
"You betcha!" Mikey patted his tummy, "Plus, I already ate Raph's leftovers, so I'm good~!"
"Yeah, you sure did," Raph forced a smile. "Anyway, I got you this!" He passed an oversized tote bag to Donnie. "It's one of the swag-bags from the Pro-Wrestling event!"
Donnie reached inside, cautiously digging through the shreds of tissue paper. His fingers touched something soft; cotton. His eyes widened, "Gas p! A GalaxyCon Liberty League special edition t-shirt?"
"Go ahead! Try it on!" Raph encouraged. "I know they're one of your faves!"
Donnie unfurled the shirt and wriggled his way inside the garment; it stretched all the way down to his calves. He looked at Raph for an explanation, ignoring the snickering from Leo and Mikey.
Raph sheepishly rubbed the back of his head, " Eh-heh . So they only had a 4XL , but I figured you could use it as a sleep-shirt!"
"Or a tent!" suggested Mikey, stealing a single macaroni from the take-out container.
"Wait until you see what I got you," Leo grinned. "I don't mean to brag, but it is the best gift ever!" Unzipping his side-bag, he reached inside with a pair of tweezers. The Slider plucked out what was quite possibly the smallest space blaster in existence.
"By Hawking, it can't be!" Donnie gaped. "Is that the Liliplutonian ray gun from Jupiter Jim on Gulliver-9?!"
"An authentic replica of the Liliplutonian ray gun from Jupiter Jim on Gulliver-9 ~!" Leo corrected, carefully placing it in Donnie's palm.
"I'm 90% certain I can make this fully functioning by FanCon ," Donnie studied the blaster, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "But… I didn't get you guys anything."
"Actually, you kinda did." Raph brought out Donnie's tablet. "That guy taking our photo by the information kiosk was actually a big-name photographer! And he included us in 'GalaxyCon's Top 10 Best Cosplays!'"
"We're numero uno!" Mikey said proudly. "For 'most authentic Jupiter Jim turtle-alien cosplay group!'"
Donnie pinched the tablet's screen, zooming in on their group photo. They all looked so good, so happy - the perfect picture to archive for his archives.
An idea came to him. He went to the workspace under his bed, tapping at his tablet screen. He fed a glossy sheet of paper into his printer, clicked a few more buttons.
The printer hummed and spat out their photo into the paper output tray. The photograph was still warm to the touch when Donnie pinched it by the corners.
The Softshell retrieved the picture frame he originally purchased to display his selfie with Atomic Lass. The phrase 'We're out of this world!' was written on the top bracket amidst a field of stars.
Donnie slid their photo inside the frame. He carefully hung it on the wall by his monitors, where he displayed all of his other family photographs.
"There!" Donnie stepped back, admiring his handiwork, " Much better." Without warning, he was pulled into a hug. Evidently, his brothers loved his GalaxyCon keepsake just as much as he did. "Now then! Who wants to help me leave a scathing review on Atomic Lass' Rancid Tomatillos page~?"