Chapter Text
The digital numbers on Brianna Porter's alarm clock glowed a stubborn, fiery red.
6:30 AM.
Outside her window, dawn streamed in through the curtains and a bird chirped on a branch of the big oak tree in their front yard.
Brianna groaned, burrowing deeper into the warm cocoon of her blanket. The plush weight of the comforter, a surprisingly luxurious gift from her uncle last Christmas, felt like a comforting anchor, trying to hold her captive in the realm of sleep. But there was no ignoring the gnawing hum of anticipation in her stomach. Today was the day. Or, rather, the day before the day. The real beginning of the journey.
With a sigh that carried the weight of a thousand reluctant mornings, she finally pushed herself upright. Her feet found the surprisingly cool embrace of the hardwood floor, a sudden jolt that helped shake the last vestiges of sleep from her brain. Her room was a comfortable chaos. Posters of various anime characters adorned her walls, alongside framed prints of landscapes she'd painted in her art class. A towering bookshelf sagged under the weight of manga, novels, textbooks, and anime merchandise, while a half-finished canvas leaned against her easel in the corner, a riot of blues and greens waiting for her attention.
She padded into her en-suite bathroom, the cool tiles a welcome sensation underfoot. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, Brianna saw a tired but excited teenager. Her dark, straight hair was a wild halo around her face, escaping the confines of her sleeping braid. Freckles dusted the bridge of her nose. Her brown eyes, usually warm and expressive, held a glint of the nervous energy that had been brewing inside her for weeks.
The shower was a blessing, a waterfall of scalding hot water that slowly worked its magic on her stiff muscles. The steam fogged the mirror, creating a temporary canvas of ethereal mist. She lathered her hair with her favourite coconut-scented shampoo, letting the comforting aroma fill the small space, and then scrubbed her skin with a citrusy body wash. By the time she stepped out, wrapped in a fluffy towel, her skin was tingling, and her mind felt infinitely clearer.
Dressing was a quick affair: a pair of comfortable jeans, a soft, oversized band t-shirt (featuring a subtly distressed image of a phoenix), and her favourite pair of converse. Practicality reigned supreme, especially today. She needed to be comfortable for the final packing sprint and the late lunch she was having with Lizzie this afternoon after school. Downstairs, the smell of freshly brewed coffee already permeated the air, a familiar and welcome scent. Her mom, an early riser, was likely already engrossed in the morning news, coffee mug in hand.
Brianna grabbed a mug from the cupboard, poured herself a generous amount of the dark roast, and added a splash of milk. She toasted a wheat bagel, spreading a thick layer of peanut butter over it as she scrolled through her phone, checking the weather forecast for New York City—a promising seventy-two degrees and sunny—and a quick glance at her social media. Nothing urgent. The silence of the house, broken only by the soft clinking of her spoon against her mug and the muffled murmur of the morning news from the living room, was exactly what she needed to mentally prepare for the whirlwind that was about to descend upon her.
Just as she was taking a bite of her bagel, her phone buzzed with an incoming call. The name flashing on the screen made her smile, a genuine, wide grin that reached her eyes. Lizzie Grant. Of course.
“Morning, sleepyhead!” Lizzie chirped, her voice already bubbling with suppressed glee at six in the morning.
Brianna chuckled. “Morning. How much coffee have you had this morning?”
“Ew, none,” Lizzie replied. “You know I hate that shit.”
Brianna huffed out a quiet laugh, shifting the phone against her ear as she leaned her hip against the kitchen counter, coffee still warm in her other hand. She could practically see Lizzie's expression—the exaggerated disgust, the dramatic nose scrunch, the way her whole face got involved in even the smallest reactions. It was so distinctly her that Brianna didn't need a video call to picture it perfectly.
“Okay, but seriously,” Lizzie continued, her tone already bouncing back into full energy. “I'm just super excited for tomorrow. This is New York Comic Con, Bree! We cannot afford any rookie mistakes. Did you pack your Young Justice costumes? The ODM gear? Did you double-check the wigs? Because that one Halloween you swore you packed one for our party and then it turned out it was still on your mannequin head.”
“That was one time,” Brianna protested automatically, though she felt a small flicker of guilt at the memory. Okay, maybe twice. She took a sip of her coffee, grounding herself in the familiar warmth. “And it was years ago. I've evolved since then.”
“Mhm,” Lizzie hummed skeptically. “Sure you have.”
Brianna smiled despite herself, shaking her head. There was something comforting about this—this rhythm they fell into so easily. The teasing, the checking, the way Lizzie always worried just enough for both of them. It settled some of the jittery energy in Brianna's chest, smoothing the sharper edges of her nerve.
She rolled her eyes, even though Lizzie couldn't see it. “Yes, Lizzie, to all of the above. The other costumes are carefully folded, sealed in their garment bags, and packed with the reverence usually reserved for ancient artifacts. Along with the wigs, the makeup, the props… I've been meticulously organized for weeks. You know me.”
“I do know you, which is why I'm checking,” Lizzie retorted immediately. “You tend to get… enthusiastic in your packing and then suddenly realize you've forgotten something crucial. Remember that time you came camping with my family and you forgot your toothbrush? Or that time we went to the beach and you forgot your swimsuit? You had to wear your gym shorts and a tank top into the ocean, it was hilarious!”
“Hey, those were isolated incidents fueled by last-minute panic, and I was, like, twelve!” Brianna protested, though a fond smile played on her lips at the memory. “This is New York Comic Con, Lizzie. This is sacred. My packing was planned down to the last safety pin. It's all categorized, labeled, and colour-coded. Even Uncle Lamb would be impressed.”
“Alright, alright, I'll take your word for it,” Lizzie conceded, though she could practically hear her friend shrugging. “So, seriously, you have both sets of costumes ready? Because if we're going to spend Saturday walking around as Zatanna and Artemis, then our Friday has to be absolutely perfect. We're going to be the most epic Mikasa and Eren you've ever seen, I swear.”
“We're going to be excellent,” Brianna agreed, a genuine thrill running through her. Attack on Titan was her favourite show, her passion project. She'd spent countless hours perfecting the intricate details of her Mikasa Ackerman cosplay. “I spent way too long weathering that Survey Corps jacket and Mikasa's red scarf for it not to be epic. And your Eren scowl is already top-notch.”
“Duh. I've been practicing in the mirror for weeks. I probably have wrinkles from scowling so much,” Lizzie boasted. “But seriously, you're not secretly trying to ditch the Young Justice costumes, are you? Because my grandmother helped me make our Zatanna and Artemis costumes from scratch, and there's no way I'm letting them go to waste.”
“Lizzie, we made a deal,” Brianna said, her tone firm but amused. “I agreed to cosplay Young Justice—a fandom I know literally nothing about, by the way, besides the incredibly detailed, highly enthusiastic, and frankly overwhelming briefings you've subjected me to since you started watching that show—if you cosplayed Attack on Titan with me. Deal's a deal, right?”
“Good,” Lizzie exclaimed. “And you know more than nothing! You know Batman has, like, a million sidekicks because he has a problem with adopting every orphan he finds, and one of them is Robin, and then there's Superboy who's half Superman and half Lex Luther's clone, and Wonder Girl is really strong, and Kid Flash is Barry Allen's nephew… you know enough.”
“I know a series of disconnected facts and character names that you've drilled into my head, yes,” Brianna corrected dryly. “I know the basic premise, the names of some characters, and that you have an unhealthy obsession with the show in general. But I haven't watched a single episode, Lizzie. So, yes, I'm going into this completely blind for the Young Justice day, relying entirely on your guidance to not look like a complete poser in my arrow girl costume.”
“Artemis, her name is Artemis,” Lizzie reminded, definitely not for the first time. “And don't worry, I'll be your walking, talking Wikipedia for the day. You'll love it, I promise! It's such an amazing show, Bree. The character development, the plot lines, the animation… you're going to be obsessed, just like I am, if I can ever get you to actually watch it with me.”
“We'll see,” Brianna murmured, taking another sip of coffee. “You know that I have an anime watchlist to finish before I can even think about starting some superhero show.”
“Yeah, yeah, you and those anime,” Lizzie said, shifting gears. “So, your Uncle Lambert is picking us up tomorrow morning at eight, right? Did you confirm the flight details with him again? I have my e-ticket on my phone, but you know how he is with itineraries.”
“Confirmed and re-confirmed,” Brianna confirmed. “He sent me a text last night, a very detailed one, outlining the exact time he'll be at my place, the estimated travel time to the airport, and a reminder about checking for prohibited items in our carry-ons. He even included a little emoji of a winking airplane that I had no idea existed. He's definitely ready for Grand Adventure Uncle Lamb mode. The guy was practically born for these moments.”
“Perfect!” Lizzie chirped. “Okay, so lunch today after school, right? Are you still good for that? We can go over the final final final details, make sure we have our Comic Con badges, confirm our panel schedule, and just generally get super hyped about this weekend.”
“Eat'n Park, three o'clock, absolutely,” Brianna affirmed. “I'm already craving their salad bar.”
“Sweet!” She could practically hear Lizzie's grin. “Okay, I gotta go finish up my own packing—primarily deciding which five extra pairs of socks to bring, because you never know when a sock emergency might strike—but I'll see you soon! Don't be late!”
“Never!” Brianna called back, a smile still on her face as she hung up the phone. She shook her head fondly. Lizzie really was something else. A whirlwind of enthusiasm and sometimes slightly chaotic energy, but always, always there. Brianna finished her bagel, the excitement now a steady thrum beneath her skin. New York Comic Con. It was finally happening.
Eat'n Park was a Pittsburgh tradition, nestled comfortably in Cranberry Township at the intersection of I-79 and the Pittsburgh Turnpike. Before Brianna was even born and even well after, her parents would go there for a date night every weekend to enjoy their cheap—yet incredibly delicious and fulfilling salad bar—and soups. Now, Brianna couldn't get enough of it. Most teenagers would hang out at the mall or a coffee shop or even at the movies, but not Brianna, and certainly not Lizzie. No, they spent their afternoons at Eat'n Park, indulging themselves in the salad bar or whatever soup special they had for the day, sometimes even splitting a super cheesy grilled cheese.
Brianna pushed open the door, the rich aroma of Eat'n Park's famous cookies and soup washing over her, a comforting and familiar scent. The restaurant was already buzzing, mostly with the elderly regulars who enjoyed the early-bird specials the restaurant offered so they could avoid traffic on the Turnpike in the evening.
She spotted Lizzie immediately, waving enthusiastically from a booth—the same one they sat in every time they were here—tucked away in the corner near a large window overlooking the road. Her pink-streaked blond hair stuck out like a sore thumb in the current crowd. She was already nursing a Dr. Pepper, fiddling with straw, her eyes alight with an energy that seemed to be coming off of her in waves.
Martha, the waitress who Brianna has known since she was in diapers, the same waitress who worked here when her parents would go on dates together before she was even born, didn't even bother to play the hostess to her. The woman knew who she was here to see, and where she would be sitting as well. Still, she offered the teenager that wonderful smile of hers that Brianna swore could cure anything. And Brianna, as always, smiled back.
“You made it!” Lizzie exclaimed, practically bouncing out of her seat to pull Brianna into a hug—even though they had just seen each other at school an hour ago. “I was starting to think you forgot about our plans today.”
Brianna hugged her back, chuckling. “Hardly. There was a small accident on the Turnpike so traffic was brutal getting here.” She slid into the booth opposite Lizzie, dropping her small crossbody bag beside her. “So, what are we getting today?”
“I would love some pretzel bites, so I was thinking we could split that appetizer,” Lizzie said. “And I figured we'd just do the salad bar, as usual.”
“Sounds good to me,” Brianna smiled.
The waitress, Martha, came over to their table after a few minutes and asked the girls about their day before asking if they wanted the usual—two Dr. Pepper's and the salad bar. Of course, they said yes, and Lizzie made sure to add the pretzel bites appetizer to order as well. When Martha was gone, they left their booth to indulge themselves in the salad bar before promptly returning to their seats.
“Okay, so, serious talk,” Lizzie said, getting down to business, her mouth full with a bite of her salad. “Last-minute check-in. Did you remember the portable charger? The power bank? Because our phones are going to die within minutes with all the photos and videos we're planning to take. And that's a rookie mistake we absolutely cannot make.”
“Check and double-check, my friend,” Brianna confirmed, reaching into her bag and pulling out a sleek, black power bank. “Fully charged, along with three extra charging cables. I even brought a multi-port USB adapter for the hotel room, just in case.”
“Oh, you hero!” Lizzie clapped her hands together. “See? This is why we're best friends. You think of everything I forget, and I think of everything you forget. Now, Comic Con badges. Do you have yours printed out or on your phone?”
“On my phone, in a dedicated folder, ready to be scanned,” Brianna answered, sipping her Dr Pepper. “And I screenshotted the QR codes too, for good measure, just in case the WiFi decides to go rogue at the entrance. Because we know those convention centers have notoriously spotty internet.”
“Smart,” Lizzie nodded approvingly. “Okay, next up: panels. I've highlighted all the Attack on Titan ones for Friday, obviously. There's that Q&A with the English dub actors, remember? I put a star next to it. We have to get there super early if we want good seats. And then later, there's a ‘History of Anime’ panel, which probably won't be as exciting, but it's a good place to rest our feet for an hour before the evening cosplay meet up, right?”
“Yeah, I saw those,” Brianna confirmed, pulling out her own phone to show her meticulously organized notes. “I also noted the map locations for the artist's alley sections we wanted to hit up. I'm hoping to find a specific fan art print for AoT. And maybe a new print for my room, but we'll see how broke this whole weekend makes me.”
“And then Saturday,” Lizzie said. “The Young Justice day. Have you looked at the schedule for that one at all?”
Brianna winced slightly. “Be honest, Lizzie, you know I haven't. I've entrusted my entire Saturday experience to your superior knowledge and intense dedication to the fandom. I trust you to guide me through the Young Justice universe.”
Lizzie beamed, utterly delighted. “That's exactly what I wanted to hear. Okay, so for Saturday, the main event, besides us looking fabulous in our cosplays, is the DC Universe panel. They usually drop some big news, maybe show some sneak peeks for upcoming seasons, movies, or even other DC shows. And there's a rumor that some of the voice actors might make an appearance! Imagine if Khary Payton shows up? Oh my God, I would die.”
“Khary Payton?” Brianna repeated, racking her brain. “Is he… Aquaman?”
“He's Cyborg in Teen Titans GO,” Lizzie explained, “but yeah, he also voices Aqualad, not Aquaman, in Young Justice! But you were close, and that's progress. I'm proud of you.”
Brianna rolled her eyes. “I'm learning just enough to not look like a complete idiot when I'm standing next to you. So, for Saturday, what are we exactly? I vaguely remember you saying I'm… some kind of archer superhero?”
“Artemis Crock,” Lizzie corrected. “She is the girlfriend of Wally West, who is Kid Flash. Don't worry, you'll love the costume, I promise. She wears green, which I know is your favourite colour, and all you have to do is put on a blond wig and hold a bow. It's a piece of cake, and way less work than the ODM harnesses are going to be. And I get to be Zatanna Zatara, a sorceress! We're going to be iconic!”
She bit her lip. “Are you sure I can pull off this badass archer chick without looking like an idiot?”
“Bree, please. You could pull anything off!” Lizzie insisted. “And I'll help you with everything. How to put on the costume, hold the bow, how to style the wig. You have nothing to worry about. It's going to be amazing. You are going to be amazing. Just think of the photos we'll take! We can do some really cool action poses. You can pretend to shoot your bow, and I'll give my best magic impression.”
“Okay, okay, I'm convinced,” Brianna chuckled, holding up her hands in surrender. “But only if you promise to hold my hand and guide me through every single Young Justice character you introduce me to. I don't want to accidentally call another cosplayer by the wrong name.”
“Don't worry, I'll be your personal Young Justice encyclopedia,” Lizzie assured her.
Not much later, their appetizer was served and the girls dug into the salty goodness of the pretzel bites while simultaneously enjoying their salads.
“Mmm. This hits the spot,” Brianna mumbled with a mouthful of soft pretzel and cheese dip.
“Tell me about it,” Lizzie agreed, wiping a smudge of cheese from the corner of her mouth. “Between school and finishing up the last touches of my ODM harness, I barely remembered to do any of my house chores. My mom got so mad at me for forgetting to take out the garbage the other day.”
They chatted for another hour, lingering over refills of Dr. Pepper to fuel their addictions, stretching out the moment even longer. The conversation drifted from the meticulously planned schedule of their Comic Con experience to more mundane topics, like class projects and recent Netflix binges. It was the kind of conversation that only best friends could have, effortless and sprawling, touching on everything and nothing, all while solidifying the bond that made their adventures so special. Eventually, the growing crowd at the entrance signaled it was time to leave.
“Alright, last hug before the big day tomorrow,” Lizzie declared, pulling her best friend into another tight embrace. “Don't forget anything crucial, Bree. And get some sleep. We need our beauty sleep to truly embody our characters.”
“You too, Lizzie. See you bright and early,” Brianna laughed, waving goodbye as they parted ways, a giddy lightness settling over her.