I look at Ethan wide-eyed, and he seems just as surprised as me that his move actually worked. He opens his mouth to say something but the volunteer pops back into the booth, fixing her glasses that keep falling down the bridge of her nose.

“I am so sorry! That took way longer than I thought,” she says. Then she asks if I’m ready to finish my meet-and-greet.

There are only ten fans left, so I smile and pose and ask their names, just like before. But this time, their names stick with me—though not for the reasons they should. Because they don’t try to feel me up, because they are nice, because they are decent human beings.

And I hate that some of the dickwads in their midst are not.

After the last photo, I rub my arms, feeling dirty and miserable. Is this what Jessica has to put up with all the time? Harassment like that? Is that all she’s ever seen of the Starfield fandom in the month the movie’s been out? Nothing but provocation and disapproval and people shouting how she can never live up to Natalia Ford?

I leave the booth as quickly as I can. I don’t know where I’m going, but somewhere away from people.

Somewhere I can stop and peel off my skin.

“Hey,” Ethan calls after me.

I push through a GUESTS ONLY door that leads into a hallway. It’s vacant, but not far enough away. A few moments later, the door opens again. Ethan’s gaining on me with those ridiculously long legs. I take another corner.

My mind is frazzled.

I’m shaking.

I thought Jasper wasn’t that kind of guy.

I’m so mad at myself. Why did I clam up? I saw what was happening. Why didn’t I yell at him to take his hands off me? I shouldn’t have let him hug me in the first place. Was it my fault? Did I—

“Imogen.”

Ethan grabs me gently by the forearm to stop me.

“I’m fine,” I say, and his impassive face twitches in agitation. He knows I’m lying. I grit my teeth. He hasn’t cared about me so far in this charade. Why should he start now? “I don’t need you to protect me—I mean, Jessica.”

His eyebrows furrow, and he drops his hand from my arm. “Of course.”

How often does that happen to Jess? I want to ask, but I’m also a little scared to know. I curl my fingers around the sides of my blue dress so Ethan can’t see them shaking. “I had it under control. I didn’t need you to come to my rescue. I was fine.”

“Imogen…”

“I’m Jessica right now,” I snap, “and I said I was fine.”

“You were not fine.”