seventeen

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(a/n: dedicated to Witheredwyvern06 for the amazing support. hope you continue enjoying ;))

seventeen

FRIDAY ARRIVED, disgustingly quick. I was pretty sure some form of cosmic power enjoyed toying with my fragile state of mind by making time pass faster. Or maybe it was just the knowledge that I was about to reveal my alter ego, crime-non-fighting identity to my direct opposite. 

I dragged my feet to the research internship on Friday morning. I hoped the bus would have a flat tire, or someone would have some form of medical emergency. I was prepared to chuck peanuts at the nearest person with a nut allergy, as long as it kept me from getting to Fokine Center. 

It's for the best, I reassured myself. It was a useless way of reassuring myself, as I didn't feel any more motivated. Instead, the bus went along as it always did. It was even early. 

Damn you, cosmic forces who hate me. 

They really did. They, really, really did. 

I had to get off at my familiar stop, had to walk past the familiar cafés and restaurants lining Sunrise Avenue. A few early-birds paced the walkways, eyes plastered to phones while take-out Styrofoam cups were grasped in their hands. It was a cloudless day, the sun already beaming down onto the pedestrians. 

There were a few servers dragging out additional tables to their outdoor seatings, while customers who occupied the other seats kept a low level of background chatter going. My noise-cancelling headphones had been forgotten, as I was too caught up in my 'what-the-hell-am-I-doing' anxiety to even think of packing them. 

You're about to tell your enemy that you're his enemy. Sounds great and flawless. Some splendid, genius thinking right there. 

Even my own subconscious rallied against me. 

Surely the safety of our entire modern society is not important enough for me to go through this?

My logic side argued that it very much was. As things stood, I had gotten myself all the way to Fokine Research Center. The only thing separating me from the center itself was a busy avenue, and a red-light. Once I crossed there would be no going back. 

I held my breath. The light switched green. My legs moved. I'd crossed before I knew it, starting up the long hill to the research center. 

You can still turn back, you can still turn back, you can still — 

No, too late. I could see the metal and glass building rising from the ground, saw the glint of morning sun off of its angled window panes. The plaque bearing its name practically radiated with light, reflecting rays of sunlight every which way. 

I stepped forward, saw the hustle and bustle of activity beyond the glass. Dr. Hyde had told me the Fokine Center was usually filled with five times the amount of people, but in my mind there were already plenty around. 

Well, that's because you hate people. 

Very true. 

Reaching out, I pushed the double glass-doors open. A fresh whiff of cool, AC air caressed my face, swept tendrils of frizzy hair from my forehead. I hitched my bag further up my shoulder, my flat shoes echoing against the smooth floor as I steered toward Dr. Hyde's lab.

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