AnimeCon Harem Bonus: The K-Pop Fan (Patreon)

Visible from a good distance away, the K-pop booth was big, two tables forming an L shape. A towering wire rack behind the table had dozens upon dozens of posters clipped to it—Korean pretty boys posing together in some, and stylishly-dressed heart-throb bad boys looking out from other posters. The outer portion, the tables facing the aisle, had an LCD monitor playing music videos amid the open boxes upon boxes of CDs, while stepping around the L shape of the tables and into the booth there were dozens of shelves of DVD cases.

However—no more shoppers could squeeze into the booth area, as it was completely full of excited young women excitedly trying to push past each other for a look at the merchandise. The vendor was a tall, handsomely-dressed Korean man with striking cheekbones and carefully styled hair, leaning down to ring up each of the fans’ purchases with a pleased expression.

Mary immediately pushed her way into the fray, pulling Foxy along with her, while Brian and the other girls hung back a distance away.

“I need a box set, the one for Choejong Kiseu—Final Kiss,” Mary instructed Foxy with an extremely serious face. “I need it no matter what.”

“Uh, well yeah, sure,” Foxy said, squinting over the heads of the group in front of them for DVD titles but finding nothing but unfamiliar squiggle characters. “But... I don’t read Korean.”

“It should have a big lipstick print in red beside the name,” Mary added frantically, tottering on her tip-toes to see above the other girls swarming throughout the booth. “They have to have it. They have to, I need it. Oh my god. Oh my God, they a 4NE1 poster! 4NE1!”

“So... she’s actually a geek after all,” Brian remarked in a dry voice from where they waited on the other side of the aisle. “Kinda funny, isn’t it?”

“What a fucking hypocrite,” Kelly muttered under her breath. “I don’t even see the appeal. All the pansies in those posters look completely metrosexual.”

“Metro..sexual?” Stephanie asked.

“Guys that put a lot of time into their appearance,” Brian offered helpfully. “Looking, you know, well-groomed, clean, and stylish or whatever.”

“Only teenies and tweenies fall for guys with the prissy boy image,” Kelly scoffed. “When you’ve become a woman, you’re naturally gonna be more attracted to a guy with some actual fuckin’ manliness.”

“B-but, Brian’s pretty, though,” Stephanie blustered out.

“Pretty? How the fuck is Brian pretty?” Kelly countered, arching an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’m only pretty when I keep my helmet on,” Brian laughed, waggling the stylized skull helm for emphasis.

“He’s, um. It’s this kind of… bishounen guy, uh, s-sort of thing,” Stephanie mumbled, looking down at the floor in embarrassment. “He’s just, um. Nice. To look at.”

“Thanks… I think?” Brian chuckled. “You’re pretty nice to look at, yourself.”

“I am?” Stephanie managed to look shocked.

“Yeah. You’re very easy on the eyes,” he nodded. “We should spend a whole bunch of time, just looking at each other.”

“...Yeah,” Stephanie agreed breathlessly. “Lets.”

“But, then who’s gonna look at me?!” Kelly interjected, equally amused and horrified at how corny they were being.

“Well, not everyone’s made to be looked at,” Brian teased.

“What the hell does—”

“Some people are made to be touched, instead,” he interrupted with a grin.

“Fuck, well, you got me there,” Kelly laughed, tracing her hands down between her breasts and then down her navel. “But... hey, since when—”

“He bought it for me!” Mary had returned, now carefully holding a large white box set with gilded Korean lettering and a bright red lipstick imprint emblazoned upon it. She looked at each of them in shocked disbelief. “He bought it for me.”

“Nice, how much?” Brian asked.

“A hundred and ninety-seven dollars,” Mary declared proudly. “Plus tax.”

“...Wow,” Brian said.

“For that?” Kelly smirked at the DVD set, skepticism apparent on her face.

“Yeah, they’re, um. Bad. That’s why I wasn’t in any rush to tell my friend Megan about the booth,” Stephanie admitted.

“Bad?” Mary frowned. “What do you mean, bad? It’s amazing.”

“Imported stuff gets crazy expensive sometimes,” Brian grimaced. “For a lot of things, even if sellers over there have their stuff online, they’re still not willing to ship it overseas because of the tariffs and taxes and whatnot.”

“Wait,” Kelly said, narrowing her eyes and looking back over at Brian. “Isn’t this dress imported?”

“No one cares. Your dress is shit,” Mary insisted, making a face. “The Choejong Kiseu Collection right here was a hundred and ninety-seven dollars—plus tax!”

“Listen, you botched little cunt flap,” Kelly laughed, “I’m in a great mood right now. Watching you cream yourself for overpriced Korean garbage with that goofy fuckin’ look on your face already makes for a good laugh. Why’re you going out of your way tryin’ to get yourself a bloody nose and some missing teeth, too? S’not gonna be any easy teasin’ free shit outta suckers if you get any uglier, now is it, you shitty little piss wrinkle?”

Mary gasped and involuntarily took a step backwards, abruptly colliding with another attendee who’d been crossing the aisle. Kelly’s expression was beautiful and bright—but the dark, cruel look in her eyes completely eclipsed the sweet smile she wore. It wasn’t a glare, exactly—it was a look of certainty, an overwhelming confidence born of Kelly’s natural disposition, amplified even further by her beautiful gothic dress. An angelic, but somehow also sinister appearance. She’s like a fucking demon. She’d… she’ll actually hurt me!

“Wh-what did you say to me?!” Mary finally sputtered out as she attempted to collect herself. Where’s Foxy when I need him?!

“Kelly…” Brian began, but the throb of vibration from his phone curtailed his intervention. Checking the display, he found that Mark was finally finished with the Mana: the Mastery tournament, so their time as chaperones was coming to a close.

“Wow. Wow. You’re actually fucking jealous,” Mary sneered. “Foxy bought me this, for a hundred and ninety-seven dollars, plus tax. Brian hasn’t gotten you jack-shit.”

“Yeah, just my convention badge, the hotel room, my food, what’ll either be a gag gift or a for-real gag, and—oh my, the very dress I’m wearing,” Kelly shrugged indifferently. “What he gave Steph last night, though… that was something really special—somethin’ money can’t really even buy.”

“You—” Mary fumed, glaring daggers at Kelly and then Stephanie. “You’re lying.”

“Hey, what’d I miss?” Foxy asked, trotting back over from the K-pop booth with a poster rolled into a long tube. “They were sold out of that 4NE1 poster, but for a little extra I convinced him to give me his display one. What do you think?”

“You got it?!” Mary shrieked, clutching her box set protectively with one arm while she hugged him fiercely with the other. “You’re perfect. You’re amazing. A hundred and ninety-seven dollars, plus tax, plus the sold out poster that’s not even for sale anymore! Hah!”

She beamed triumphantly at Kelly, certain that she’d won.

“Not a big deal,” Foxy shrugged, giving them all a cocky smile. “Oh—but they don’t charge tax in here. Flat dollar amounts.”

“...Oh,” Mary said, looking visibly deflated at the news.

“Mark says the Mana: the Mastery tournament’s over already,” Brian reported. “He’s waiting for us in the lobby.”

“Hah, yeah, right,” Foxy laughed. “The tournament’s over for him, maybe. Must’ve been eliminated in like, the first couple rounds. That’s hilarious.”

“There’s probably just a lot of great players this year,” Brian shrugged.

“We don’t have to go back right away,” Mary protested, making an ugly face. “I’m not just gonna come and go at his beck and call. I’m not his property.”

“You’re a liability, that’s what you are,” Kelly smirked. “Fucking child. It’s embarrassing I was gonna even put in effort—she’s just outta her training bra and already she thinks she’s hot shit.”

“Whoa, take it easy,” Foxy warned, looking from Kelly to Mary and back again and wondering what’d happened in the minute he was gone.

“Yeah,” Kelly laughed, shaking her head. “I just did. C’mon, Steph. C’mon, Steve. Time to return little Betsy bed-wetter here to her brother.”

Gnashing her teeth, Mary positively trembled with rage. If Kelly’s earlier words had been infuriating, then that gothic lolita girl now acting dismissive of her, as though she wasn’t even worth acknowledging—That just crossed my bottom fucking line.

Kelly was already pulling Stephanie and Brian along.

“Um,” Stephanie leaned over to Brian to whisper, “What… were they, er—why are they both getting so upset? I, uh, I don’t understand it at all.”

“Upset?” Brian put on a stunned look. “Here I was thinking that was just their way of flirting with each other, it was getting hard to watch. Hey—ow!” He turned the other way to see Kelly cluck her tongue in annoyance, and she pinched him again.

“Listen, Mary. I like you,” Foxy said as he escorted Mary back out of the vendor’s room, travelling in the wake of Brian and his two companions. It seemed like he was running out of time. What the fucking hell, Mark. Couldn’t you have lasted a few more tournament rounds?

“No, you don’t,” Mary shook her head. “I’m not nice.”

“I’m not interested in nice,” Foxy said with a dismissive gesture. “I like that you know you’re better than everyone else here, because I feel the same way. I like that you’re honest with yourself about it—you’re not putting up that false pretense, this nice attitude for people who’re beneath you.”

“I don’t think I’m better than everyone,” Mary denied, frowning in disgust. “Kelly’s prettier than me, isn’t she?” Though she was fairly confident in her looks, Kelly was undeniably superior in several ways, a stinging fact that rankled even more each time they interacted. Although Stephanie was threateningly cute, the weird little pink-haired girl didn’t seem to have much real presence to back that up.

“Kelly’s probably been preparing that specific look she’s wearing now for months and months. Maybe even years. That’s what chicks into all that gothic lolita fashion stuff are like,” Foxy shrugged. “I bet every other day of the year she’s just this plain jane wallflower nobody even notices.”

“Yeah? So, you think I’m pretty?” Mary turned towards him with an unreadable expression.

“Obviously, or I wouldn’t be here hanging out with you.”

“That’s kinda shallow,” Mary said in a disapproving tone, but he could read a faint smile beginning to emerge.

“Is it? I appreciate a girl who very obviously takes good care of herself, who takes some pride in her appearance, because those things are important to me. Would you still be talking to me if I was some sweaty turbo-lard guy from the tournament hall?”

“Hah ha, ew,” Mary laughed, making a face.

“I’ve gone and put myself out there a bit, now... I think you’re worth my time,” Foxy said. “So, you’ve gotten to know me a bit. What do you think about me?”

She stared at him with those unreadable dark brown eyes of hers, wearing an amused smile, before giving him a noncommittal shrug and glancing away as their group stepped through the small row of open double-doors and back into AnimeCon’s lobby.

A familiar impatient face was waiting for them, a casually-dressed Chinese guy wearing a somewhat ridiculous dragon-egg hat.

“Mark!” Brian grinned. “This is Stephanie and Kelly. Stephanie and Kelly, this is Mark—Mary’s brother.”

“H-hi.”

“I can see the resemblance.”

Mark blinked in confusion, turning from the Brian to the girls and back again.

“...Who are they?”

“Mark… I literally just introduced them to you,” Brian said, gesturing to each of the girls once again. “This is Stephanie, and this is Kelly.”

“Yeah, well, I mean but who are they?”

“We’re his obedient slaves,” Kelly offered, slipping her hand through Stephanie’s and fluttering her eyelashes innocently.

Mark’s mouth fell open to gape in disbelief, and he turned doubtfully back to Brian.

“Where’d you find them? Where’s Emily and Becca and everyone?”

“Becca couldn’t make it, she’s with her new boyfriend,” Brian explained. “Emily and Rebecca aren’t getting here ‘till later today. Everyone else made other plans, I guess.”

“Rebecca? The viking chick? Heard of her—haven’t met her, yet.” Mark muttered, still eyeing Stephanie and Kelly with a questioning expression. “...And you guys are Brian’s slaves?”

Kelly simply smiled, while Stephanie shot an amused glance to Brian, bit her lip, and then nodded with a blush.

“No shit? Hey, make them do something,” Mark tried goading Brian for a moment before realizing with a start who was standing next to his sister. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t Foxy of fucking Loxly.”

“Mark,” Foxy nodded politely. “Out of the tournament already? Must’ve not done so well this year.”

“Christ, was it shitty this time,” Mark made a sorrowful expression, shaking his head in dismay. “Lost to Little Tucker, he’s playing a denial deck. But I wreck all of his creatures in the first few turns, pull them from his graveyard into my hand. So by the time he shuts me out from re-deploying anything, he has nothing to hit me with but Rite Rats.

“Rite Rats! They wouldn’t have even been able to damage me if they hadn’t counted as consecrated, and in the end it still took him like, twelve turns to whittle me down. Twelve fucking turns where I didn’t draw a single ancient stone or leyline so that I could deploy anything. Fucking disgrace all around. Fucking Rite Rats, can you believe it?”

“You lost to Little Tucker?” Foxy frowned. “That should be embarrassing, but it’s really just sad. There’s nothing satisfying about him beating anyone. I should’ve been there.”

“...So you really were a Mana player this whole time?” Mary accused Foxy, looking disappointed.

“Hah, he wishes,” Mark spat. “Couple years back, he was the regional champ here. Played an Elder Gods deck, if I remember right—back when those were still viable. But then, last year, he’s going up against this whiny fat guy, really pulverizing him, I guess, and fatass loses it and flips the table—like, really, he actually flips the table over. All of their cards, all over the fuckin’ place. So guess how Foxy responded to that? He—”

“Knocked him the fuck out,” Foxy said through his teeth, shaking his head at the memory.

“Really?” Mary asked, her eyes sparkling. “You knocked him out?”

“One hit K.-O.” Mark laughed. “You really don’t remember? I was trying to show you the video of it last year?”

“No,” Mary said, frowning. “I want to see it.”

“It wasn’t that amazing,” Foxy said. “Like tipping over a sweaty mattress somebody’d propped up there. Wasn’t a big deal, and they didn’t have to ban me from the regionals for it.”

“Wasn’t a big deal? Wasn’t a big deal?” Mark’s voice escalated into a crescendo. “Aside from a few of us serious players, nobody knew who you were, even after you took a championship. Now, everyone won’t shut up about you. Don’t know how many times today I heard a player tell his opponent, ‘Man, I’m ‘bout to Fox you right in the fucking Loxly.’”

“Yeah, great. Just what I always wanted, to become a meme for mouth-breather Mana players,” Foxy scowled. “Thank you for that.”

“Well, why’d ya throw the punch, then?”

“That fatass was way outta line,” Foxy argued. “I’m not gonna regret teaching him a lesson, it just… well, it pisses me off that I had to be the one to do it, and that I have to bear the consequences. You know, pisses me off that there’s guys like that just coasting through life, still throwing tantrums like little children, ‘cause no one’s ever gonna call them out on it.

“Well, I will,” Foxy decided, his expression darkening. “Reality check, motherfucker.”

“Reality check, motherfucker,” Mary repeated with a bright laugh, slipping her hand around Foxy’s. “Mark… I’m going to spend the rest of the day with Foxy. Don’t try to stop me, or I’ll have him hurt ya, okay? Reality check, motherfucker.”

“Hah, try to stop you?” Mark guffawed in her face, slapping at the nearby Brian’s shoulder in amusement. “You ever gonna realize I’ve been trying to pawn you off on everyone else around me, since always and forever?

“Well, fuck, Foxy, fair warning; despite her own best efforts, she’s still a virgin, and our parents are very serious Catholics. Let’s just say, you break it, you bought it, if you catch my drift?”

“Don’t fucking talk about me, that’s disgusting,” Mary hissed in anger. “You’re the fucking virgin, you stupid little shit.”

“I’m sorry, is that supposed to be an insult?” Mark laughed. “Like, because I’m smart enough to never get my dick caught in a money-grubbing beartrap, there’s something wrong with me? No offense, I guess, Brian.”

“There’s no need to be crass, Mark,” Foxy said in a disapproving tone, and he pulled Mary away from the group to head down the east wing with her. She wore a bright smile, not resisting in the slightest.

“Yeah,” Brian said, keeping a straight face. “Are you trying to say I’m not a virgin? I’ll have you know; I’ve never even kissed a girl.” Mark didn’t miss Stephanie and Kelly exchanging amused glances at that, guiding Brian away from Mark in the opposite direction from Mary and Foxy, towards the escalators leading to AnimeCon’s upper level.

“Whatever,” Mark shrugged. “I warned you. Hey, wait—I thought you guys were gonna come back with me? I was gonna wait for them to reopen the tournament hall with everyone, so we can all hang out. Where’re you guys going? Guys? Guys?!”

• • •

“...Could you beat Brian in a fight?” Mary asked, walking along alone now with Foxy while hugging the precious Korean drama box set against her chest.

“Yeah,” Foxy answered without hesitation, twirling the tube of her rolled-up 4NE1 poster in his fingers absent-mindedly. “If I’ve got a reason to. Do I? He seemed like an alright guy, mostly. He say something to make you think otherwise?”

“Kelly did,” Mary admitted. “I can’t fucking stand her. She needs a big fat reality check. Like, you know—reality check, motherfucker.”

Foxy blanched. It wasn’t a question of whether he could give Kelly a reality check—it was a question of whether he would ever fight her in the first place. Even with some serious provocation, it would rarely be acceptable for him to smack around a girl, let alone that one. He’d then surely be up against Brian as well, in addition to any number of nearby guys who decided to play white knight, as well as convention security and then inevitably the police. That unspoken fact hung in the air between them, Mary obviously having already arrived at the same conclusion; to take on Brian instead.

“Then, yeah, like I said, I could take Brian on, should we run into them again,” Foxy said. “Piece of cake… but I’d need a reason to. You’re the one with reasons—give me a reason. Give me a stake in this.”

They walked along the hallway together in silence for a minute while Mary considered his words with a deep frown.

“I can’t eat all of this Pocki,” Mary said abruptly, holding up the half-empty box of Pocki he’d bought her and rattling it for emphasis.

She can’t finish… a box of Pocki? Foxy thought, suppressing a wince. An entire box was about as satiating as eating a single cookie—these tiny little sticks weren’t filling at all. What’s with that all of the sudden, did she not like them? Is she just making an excuse to throw them away, or—

“Sooo, you can help me eat them,” Mary reasoned, sliding out one of the remaining thin sticks and holding it up to him.

Surprised, he’d just been moving to take it when she yanked it back from him. Foxy didn’t appreciate being taunted, and his eyes flashed, darting from the withdrawn Pocki to her smiling face in annoyance. But there was something different about the way she was looking at him now—she wore a teasing expression, but not a mocking one.

She looks almost... nervous?

Foxy watched with growing fascination as she slowly took that stick of Pocki she was holding, placed one end between the soft cleft of her lips, and leaned back towards him.

He dropped a hand down to rest upon her waist, steadying her, pulling her a little closer, and deftly caught the opposite end of that Pocki stick pointed towards him with his mouth. There were both still for a moment, a tacit understanding exchanged within their gaze, the couple connected by more than just the confection propped between their lips—and then, they began to close the distance with small nibbles.

Brian... you seemed like an okay guy. You’d better just hope we don’t run into each other again for the rest of the convention.

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