dedicated to unflowerings for all the luv & support :)
• not edited - let's just assume that none of these chapters are edited until i'm done w everything •
Okay, so maybe the game plan does include enjoying shrimp cocktails and flirting with hot girls, except the girl I'm charming right now is a brunette, not a blonde, so there is that.
"You're a great guy, Cash," the girl is saying between giggles and sips of champagne. We may not be legal to drink yet, but hey, we're rich and powerful. What can the authorities do? Even if they did have any kind of power in this city? "How come you've never had a girlfriend?"
I lean into her and cock my head to the side in a way that I'm told is endearing, and I grin when I see her lean closer to me and tilt her head up wistfully. "I'm not big on commitment."
Somehow, that makes the girl melt. You'd think I had said "I love you" instead of basically saying I have commitment issues. Girls are weird. It's a good thing I don't have enough time for them.
The girl opens her mouth to say something, probably something cute and sweet in hopes of "taming the bad boy with the trust issues", but I'll never know because the ear nub crackles to life in my right ear and I hear Frank's beautiful voice instead of the girl's.
"Subject has just entered the ballroom, Cash," Frank notifies me from all the way back in the BatCave. "Your two-o'-clock."
I flash the girl my usual crooked smile, hoping whatever she said was not a question, and subtly crack my neck, letting my eyes sweep over the parameters as I do so. I easily locate the group of black-clad bodyguards surrounding the small lady dressed in a navy pantsuit. Even when she's more or less kidnapped and held hostage by strange Men In Black, Elena Kingsley still somehow manages to get her hands on one of her ugly trademark pantsuits. All self-proclaimed workaholics really need to up their game.
These men are dressed like her usual bodyguards, and I hope they really are, and not actually people I have to take down, because they look like they've come straight out of the Expendables movie. And although I have a body that's fit enough for me to take pride in, and superpowers to match, I'm not quite sure I can take Sylvester Stallone and Arnold Schwarzenegger in a fight.
"I've got eyes." I murmur, mostly for the Gladiator and not Frank, because he can see through my contact lenses, which act as a videocamera that projects the feed back to the monitors in HQ.
I look back at the girl in front of me but follow the senator with my peripheral vision.
"And I hope I'm not being too forward but-" the girl is saying, but I interrupt her with a hand on her arm when I catch sight of the senator and her entourage moving a little too quickly towards the stage. That's not part of the game plan.
"I'm sorry, love," I say distractedly, already moving towards the exit beside the main stage, where the emergency stairwell is. "I have to do something really quick. Be right back." I throw over my shoulder, making sure I'm going fast enough to get into position, but not fast enough to arouse suspicion from any peering eyes.
I deftly weave in between the crowd of graduates, evading greetings and attempts by people to pull me into their conversations or embraces. My real job has officially begun, and the familiar sensation of adrenaline buzzing all over my body welcomes me.
"Do you see this?" I mutter, directing my question at both Frank and the Gladiator.
Frank affirms that he's seeing the senator make her way up to the stage, as confused as I am, and the Gladiator merely grunts, "Stay in control. Just get to your position, Cassius."
YOU ARE READING
How To Be a Super-Villain {an origin story}
Action"All these stories - they tell tales about how the heroes will have to choose between their lover and the safety of the world, and yet the happy endings always manage to make it into the final cut. They choose the lover - they always do - and then t...
