Hundreds of kings and queens, trolls and goblins, witches and fairies formed a line that stretched around several city blocks.  The figures from classic fairytales rubbed shoulders with characters from The Wizard of Oz, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, and Peter Pan, as well as heroes based on the legends of King Arthur and Robin Hood.  They were joined by a smattering of pirates, mummies, and cyborgs, with a couple of superheroes thrown in for good measure.  At the front of the line, three teenagers sat in lawn chairs, snacking from a large picnic basket. 

“Damn, it’s getting hot,” the one in the wolf costume complained.  “Why did I have to be Clawdius?”

“‘Cause the green face paint shows up better on Kurt’s lily-white skin, and there’s no way you could rock this fabulous gown the way I do,” the girl dressed as Red Riding Hood said.  “And you know we had to coordinate our outfits if we’re going to have a chance of winning the costume contest.”

“Easy for you to say, Mercedes.  You’re in a strapless dress, while I’m wearing a fur onesie in 90 degree heat,” Wade said.  “And if we can have a black Red Riding Hood, there’s no reason we couldn’t have a black Froggy.”

“You should’ve thought of that yesterday,” Kurt said.  “I would’ve been glad to trade.  It’s going to take hours of moisturizing to undo the damage this face paint is wreaking on my skin.”

“Suck it up, you two,” Mercedes said.  “Every hour we’ve spent here is gonna be worth it the second we see the look on Chris Colfer’s face as he catches sight of our costumes.  We’re a shoe-in to win this.”

“I don’t know,” Kurt said.  “It seems like he usually picks little kids, and there are some adorable ones running around back there.  Did you see Little Bo Peep with those toddler triplets dressed as sheep?”

“Those kids are demon spawn,” Wade said.  “While I was scoping out the competition, one of them pulled my tail, and the other two kicked me in the shins.”

“I can hear the news report now,” Mercedes laughed.  “Wolf mauled by sheep.  Details at six.”

“They should be opening the doors in half an hour,” Kurt said.  “Let’s pack this stuff up and haul it back to the Navigator.”

The three friends folded up their chairs and gathered the detritus of their night spent camped out in front of the venue where The Land of Stories: Worlds Collide book event would soon be happening.  Wade helped Kurt carry everything back to his car, while Mercedes held their places in line.  By the time they returned, it was almost time to go inside, and the entire crowd was vibrating with excitement.

Kurt, Mercedes, and Wade had been inseparable since the eighth grade, when all three of them showed up for their school’s Halloween dance dressed as characters from The Wishing Spell.  Once they started high school, they became the founding (and only) members of the Land of Stories Club.  If there had been any visual or performing arts programs available at McKinley, perhaps they would have joined those, but in the absence of any school funding for extracurriculars, they turned all of their creativity toward reading and cosplaying Chris Colfer’s books.  In the process, they forged an unbreakable bond.

After five years of friendship, however, Kurt, Mercedes, and Wade still didn’t know everything about each other.  In fact, each of them was harboring a carefully guarded secret.

…

As he prepared to greet his adoring fans, Chris Colfer was mulling over his own carefully guarded secret.

The 22 year old author had published his first Land of Stories book at the tender age of 17, and his life had never been the same.  Growing up with a little sister whose severe epilepsy landed her in the hospital on a regular basis, Chris had always turned to his rich fantasy life as an escape from his worries.  As soon as he was old enough to spell a few words, he began writing his stories down.  Even in his wildest dreams, though, he could never have imagined being a number one New York Times bestselling author before he’d finished high school.  

Chris had spent the summer between his junior and senior years on a promotional tour, signing copies of The Wishing Spell at bookstores all across the country.  His publisher had set up a string of interviews and talk show appearances, as well.  Chris was thankful that he’d been on the Speech and Debate team at school, since it had helped him hone his public speaking skills.  Nothing could have fully prepared him, though, for what it was like to have fans.  

Chris knew what it was like to be a fan, of course.  He’d grown up reading the Harry Potter books, and J K Rowling was his idol.  But to have kids responding to The Wishing Spell the way he’d responded to The Sorcerer’s Stone completely blew his mind.  It was thrilling, but also terrifying; he didn’t want to let them down.

Each year, Chris published another book in The Land of Stories series, and each year his fame grew.  Soon the simple book signings became Book Events, complete with readings, costume contests, Q & A sessions, TLOS trivia competitions, and raffles to allow a few lucky fans the opportunity for a VIP meet-and-greet with the author.

It wasn’t long before Hollywood studios began to approach Chris with requests for the film rights to his books.  At first, he turned them down flat, wanting The Land of Stories to inspire children to read, and to actively engage their imaginations, rather than to sit passively in front of a screen.  He also feared the loss of creative control; he didn’t want to see the characters he loved altered beyond recognition to fit into standard movie tropes.  

Recently, though, Chris had begun collaborating with a young screenwriter to turn The Wishing Spell into a script that would stay true to his vision while still having the potential to be a Hollywood blockbuster.  Once it was complete, he could approach a studio on his own terms.  Since he was active in community theater, Chris was hoping to land a role in the film himself.  In order to achieve this dream, however, he was afraid he would have to continue to keep a part of himself hidden.

No one outside of Chris’s family and his small circle of close friends knew that he was gay.  His publicist had told him to keep his private life private, insisting that coming out would be professional suicide for a children’s book author.  Once she found out that Chris wanted to play Jack in the films based on his work, she was even more adamant about the need for him to remain in the closet.

“I’m sorry, Chris,” his publicist said.  “I know it isn’t fair.  But if you come out, you’re never going to be cast as the dashing hero.  If they consider you for a part at all, the best you could hope for is to play Xanthos, the flaming fairy.”

Chris believed her when she said she was sorry.  And he agreed with her that it wasn’t fair.  He wondered, though, whether the rest of what she said was true. 

Could his fans accept him for who he really was?