The city bloomed with life as twilight descended, carving dusky orange paths across the tops of towering skyscrapers. Neon lights flickered to life, spilling color onto the streets below, where rivers of faces meandered through the chaos. Among them, a figure stood out like a misplaced piece of a celestial puzzle. Crowds parted instinctively around her, unsure whether to gawk or retreat.
Her name was Kaidan Noelle, though tonight she was not Kaidan—not really. She was Astrid Solara, intergalactic emissary from the Haven Nebula. Her costume shimmered like it had been spun from the fabric of distant galaxies: a long, iridescent cape embedded with silver stars, glinting in waves with every step. A sleek bodysuit of midnight blue clung to her lean form, interrupted only by angular stripes of gold that streaked diagonally across her torso, mimicking constellations. A tiara-like accessory rested on her brow, a glowing prism-shaped jewel humming faintly at its center. Everything about her was polished to perfection, except her combat boots—authentic, scuffed, and patched up with duct tape. Those stayed real.
The backdrop was a collision of futures: glass spires reaching for stars that weren’t yet there, interwoven with the remnants of old New York—a grease-stained diner to her left, a subway entrance coughing up busy, tired people to her right. The air smelled of warm pretzels, exhaust fumes, and wet concrete. She strode confidently, though her fists clenched tightly at her sides.
Kaidan had made a decision three blocks ago. Tonight, she wasn’t going to disappear into a convention center tucked out of public view. No. She was going to walk to the rooftop bar wearing full cosplay, unapologetic, no matter what.
The Beginning of a Crusade
This wasn’t supposed to feel like a crusade. She’d initially put on the costume for fun, for the thrill of being something else for a day, but the whispers had gotten under her skin. Along the way, stares lingered a split second too long; judgmental smirks crept onto lips as strangers elbowed their friends and nodded toward her. She wasn’t fragile—never had been—but tonight, she felt their judgment burrow under her skin like splinters. All it took was one stranger’s dismissive comment a block ago: “What’s up with her? Halloween’s, like, six months away.” The words rang in her ears, joining a chorus of every whispered jab and incredulous giggle she’d dealt with over the years.
She exhaled sharply and pulled out her phone while striding past the café’s outdoor patio, where three twenty-somethings nudged each other and snickered at her cape. A text to her best friend, Rory, began to form beneath her trembling fingers.
[Text Conversation]
Kaidan: WHY are people THE WORST?!!!
Rory: Oh no. Spill. Who do I have to fight?
Kaidan: Just—ugh. Being in cosplay in public is like exposing your entire soul and then having everyone quietly step on it.
Rory: First. Breathe. Second. F*** them. Third. Astrid Solara would probably vaporize them with her plasma-staff thingy.
Kaidan: 😂 Sorry, I’m being dramatic. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.
Rory: You’re not being dramatic. You’re being brave. For real. What they think doesn’t matter. You’ve got this.
Kaidan smiled faintly at her screen, Rory’s words a balm on an overexposed nerve. Her pace slowed as she stopped by a street vendor selling glow sticks. She bought one—a neon blue strand that complemented her gold stripes—and snapped it around her wrist like a bracelet. Astrid Solara wouldn’t blend in. Astrid Solara would shine.
The Unexpected Twist
By the time she reached the address, Kaidan’s nerves had dulled to a hum rather than a scream. She crossed the threshold into the bar, which unfurled before her like a dream. Twinkling fairy lights looped around polished steel beams, while a retractable roof revealed a sweep of stars overhead. The hum of conversation and clinking glasses filled the air, and a DJ perched in the corner spun something sultry and electric.
But none of it compared to what she saw next.
A man stood by the bar, his dark curls illuminated faintly by the orange glow of an overhead Edison bulb. He wore a costume too—no, armor, pieced together with sharp, intricate details that screamed “handmade.” Black flourishes covered his chestpiece, which curved into sleek pauldrons. The sword sheathed at his side looked more functional than decorative. He turned slightly, and his face, angular with soft brown eyes, caught her attention.
He noticed her immediately. His gaze flicked to her cape, then the tiara. The corner of his lips quirked up into a grin that didn’t feel mocking. It felt… knowing.
“Astrid Solara,” he said, raising his glass in salute. His voice carried over the music. “I thought I’d be the only one bold—or insane—enough to come in full costume.”
Kaidan blinked, momentarily stunned. “You—wait, you’re…!” Recognition sparked. “Orion Dristan, from Stellar Warforge. You’re cosplaying Orion Dristan.”
He nodded, his grin widening. “Guilty as charged. And you’re pulling off Astrid Solara better than the concept art. Impressive work.” He leaned casually against the bar and gestured to the bartender. “Can I buy you a drink, emissary, or is intergalactic diplomacy a sober event?”
Her shock melted into something warm, soft—a mixture of validation and delight that spilled over into a smile. “I think intergalactic emissaries are allowed one drink.”
Clarity in the Starlight
The evening unfolded in unexpected ways. Kaidan and her mysterious fellow cosplayer—Jacob, as it turned out he was called—traded stories of costume malfunctions and the moments their characters had inspired them in real life. Even when the bar eventually emptied out and the staff began to clean up, they lingered by the railing under the open sky, laughing like old friends.
As Kaidan walked home later, with the faint scent of rain in the air and her cape billowing gently behind her, she no longer cared what passersby thought. For the first time, the city didn’t feel like a battlefield she had to conquer. It felt like a canvas—and she’d painted it vividly, unapologetically, as herself.
The Source…check out the article that inspired this amazing short story: Is it OK to wear cosplay in public?
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