Chapter 31: The Anniversary Sale
The banner stretches across the shop entrance: ONE YEAR OF BLOOM'S - THANK YOU PASADENA
One year ago today, I opened this shop terrified and alone. Immediately ordered a hundred copies of the wrong comic.
Now I'm standing in the expanded space watching Sheldon create customer flow diagrams with actual traffic cones.
"The optimal queue formation requires—" He's adjusting cones millimeters at a time.
"Sheldon, people will just go where they want."
"Chaos is the enemy of efficiency."
"It's a comic shop anniversary sale, not airport security."
He pauses, considers. "Nevertheless, proper flow patterns will enhance the customer experience."
Melissa emerges from the back room, phone in one hand, clipboard in the other.
"Social media's blowing up. Five hundred responses to the event page. Posted photos everywhere—Instagram, Facebook, that new Twitter thing."
"How many people do you think will actually show?"
"Based on engagement metrics? Maybe a hundred over three days."
She's wrong. By Friday noon, we've had two hundred.
The weekend becomes controlled chaos.
Gaming tournaments in the expanded area—Sheldon refereeing with stopwatch precision. Artist signings—I called in favors from WonderCon contacts, got three legitimate creators doing sketches. Cosplay contest Saturday afternoon—Penny volunteered to judge, brought her acting friends who take it way too seriously.
Leonard's manning the register Friday, helping ring up the twenty-five-percent-off everything.
"This is insane," he says during a brief lull. "I haven't seen the shop this packed since—"
"Ever. You haven't seen it this packed ever."
"How much are you making?"
I check the running total. "Four thousand. And it's only day one."
His eyes widen. "That's—Stuart, that's more than most shops make in a week."
"It's a good day."
"It's a miracle day. How did you—" He stops. We've been through this. "Never mind. Just, congratulations. Really."
Howard arrives at 3 PM with Bernadette—they're official now, dating three months. She's tiny and sweet-voiced until Howard tries to correct her about something, then her voice drops into this terrifying register.
"I have a PhD in microbiology. I understand how molecules work."
"I was just saying—"
"Howard. No."
He wilts. I hide my grin behind a comic.
Raj shows up with flowers. Actual flowers.
"For the celebration! It's tradition in Indian culture to bring gifts for milestones."
"You didn't have to—"
"Spirit brothers celebrate spirit brothers' successes!"
He hugs me, nearly knocking over a display. The flowers end up in a vase on the counter, looking absurdly cheerful among the superhero merchandise.
Saturday peaks around 2 PM.
The shop's at fire-code capacity. People browsing, gaming, talking, celebrating. Local news shows up with a camera—they're doing a piece on "Community Spaces in Pasadena"—and suddenly I'm being interviewed about building gathering places for geek culture.
"What's your secret?" the reporter asks.
Supernatural powers and future knowledge.
"Treat people like they matter," I say instead. "Create space where they feel welcome. The rest follows."
It sounds like bullshit, but watching the packed shop, I realize it's actually true. The powers opened doors, but the community built itself. People come here because it feels like theirs.
That part I didn't fabricate.
Melissa handles the social media documentation—posting photos, responding to comments, building the shop's online presence into something real. She's better at this than me, turning the anniversary into an event people feel part of.
Around 4 PM, Penny brings her whole acting group—six women who want to check out "the cool comic shop Penny's been raving about." They scatter through the store like gorgeous locusts, picking up trades and asking surprisingly informed questions.
Leonard trips over his own feet twice.
Howard elbows me. "How is this your life? You own a business full of hot women asking about comics."
"Built it?"
"That's not—you just—" He shakes his head. "It's not fair."
But he's smiling. And Bernadette's dragging him toward the manga section, so his attention shifts quickly.
Saturday evening, after the news crew leaves and the crowds thin slightly, I take a moment alone in the back room.
One year ago, I woke up in this body. Disoriented, terrified, drowning in borrowed memories and impossible knowledge. Spent the first week thinking I'd gone insane.
Opened this shop out of desperation, not ambition.
Immediately made catastrophic mistakes that should've sunk the business.
And somehow—through powers I don't deserve and knowledge I shouldn't have—built something real.
Melissa finds me there, leaning against the inventory shelves.
"You okay?"
"Yeah. Just—thinking about the year."
"It's been pretty incredible." She wraps her arms around me from behind. "You should be proud."
"I am. I think. It's just—"
"What?"
It's just built on lies and supernatural cheating and advantages nobody else has.
"—it went so fast. A year feels like it should be longer."
"Time flies when you're not hating your life?"
"Something like that."
She kisses my neck. "Come on. Your friends want to do a toast. Some speech Sheldon prepared."
At 8 PM, after the shop closes for the day, the gang assembles.
Sheldon's holding index cards.
"I've prepared remarks."
"Of course you have."
"Stuart, one year ago you opened a small business with statistically poor prospects. Ninety percent of small businesses fail within the first year. Your success represents a significant outlier."
"Thanks, I think?"
"During this year, you've demonstrated: exceptional predictive accuracy regarding market trends, growing social competence, successful romantic partnership formation, and business acumen that exceeds normative expectations for your experience level."
Leonard stage-whispers: "He's saying you did good."
"While I maintain documentation of anomalous patterns in your success trajectory—" Sheldon continues.
"Sheldon."
"—I acknowledge that regardless of causation, you've created something valuable. This establishment has become a gathering place for our social group and the broader community. That achievement merits recognition."
He extends his hand formally.
"Congratulations on your first year. May your success continue, explainable or not."
I shake his hand, throat tight.
"Thanks, buddy."
The others pile on with their own congratulations. Howard jokes about Stuart's imaginary money becoming real money. Raj talks about cosmic alignment. Leonard simply says he's proud to call me a friend.
Melissa presents a cake she's been hiding in the back—one year anniversary, decorated with comic panels made of frosting.
"You remembered?"
"I remember everything important."
We cut the cake with a box cutter because nobody brought a knife. Eat it off paper plates surrounded by comics and tournament tables and the community I accidentally built.
"Speech!" Howard demands.
"No way."
"SPEECH!"
I look around the expanded shop. At the friends who showed up at 7 AM to knock down walls. At the girlfriend who encourages every ambition. At the space that transformed from survival mechanism into something meaningful.
"Okay. Fine. Speech." I clear my throat. "A year ago, I had nothing. This shop was a last-ditch effort. I was scared and alone and convinced I'd fail."
"You almost did," Leonard adds helpfully. "That Iron Fist order—"
"—was a near-disaster. Yes. But you all—" I gesture at the gang. "—you showed up. Supported this place. Made it yours. Turned a shop into a community."
"Your recommendations were unusually accurate," Sheldon observes.
"My recommendations were lucky. But your presence made people want to come back. This shop works because of you. All of you."
Melissa kisses my cheek. "Including me?"
"Especially you."
"Acceptable sentiment," Sheldon pronounces.
We toast with warm beer someone found in the back fridge. Not fancy, but perfect.
"To Stuart!" Raj shouts.
"To Stuart," they echo.
Standing in my shop—my successful, thriving, one-year-old shop—surrounded by people who matter, I let myself feel it:
Gratitude. Pure, overwhelming gratitude.
The powers gave me advantages. But these people gave me reasons to use them well.
That's worth more than any supernatural gift.
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