Supervillain Girlfriend!

Part Two, Chapter Eighteen: Sellout

She clenched her fists. 

"Shut up!" She hissed. "You don't know anything about me." 

"I know you're a sellout."

Just as her temper was about to run too hot for her to contain, Lin came up on the pier. He pulled his helmet off and shook his head, the dark brown curls bouncing around as several stuck to thr sweat of his forehead. At least one of them had exerted some kind of effort. 

"Good job, B." He said. "I already got the other two in the van go be booked."

"Eh, I wouldn't thank me. This guy fights like a third grader so I hardly had to do anything." She said. 

"Well, did you at least have fun?" He asked. 

"Yes, I loved sitting around for three days and then getting into a roughly two minute long fight." She said. 

Lin shrugged.

"It's like that sometimes."

He walked over and pulled the man up so that he was standing. Beatrice shot the man a venomous look, but it seemed like he wanted to keep his mouth shut now that there were two of them. 

"At least now that I've experienced one hundred and thirty five seconds of anti-climactic action, I can finally know what it's like to be a straight woman."

Lin looked disgusted, but didn't say anything. 

"Come on, let's get this guy turned in so that we can finally go home." 

Beatrice sighed. 

"Sure. Let's do it." 

Beatrice didn't realize that she was going to be coming home to chaos, but that was what she opened the door to. 

Charlie's usually immaculately clean apartment was in a state of disorder like Beatrice had never seen before. There were piles of clothes all over the living room. There were dishes overflowing from the sink. Random junk was strewn about everywhere, seemingly with no rhyme or reason as to why. 

For a moment she worried that they were being robbed, though she couldn't imagine why someone would break in just to ransack the place. 

"Uh, Charlie?" She said, stepping over a pile of socks as she entered the apartment. 

"Oh shoot! B!." Charlie exclaimed, appearing from behind the white fuzzy couch in the living room. She was holding a pack of cheese in one hand for some reason. "I didn't know you were going to be home early."

Beatrice dropped her bag by the door, just another thing to add to the mess. 

"I'm not. I'm actually a day late." She said. 

Charlie looked mortified, and her cheeks lit up a flustered pink color. The bandage was gone from her forehead, and now Beatrice could see the stabbed over gash that ran across it, a backing of purplish bruised skin behind it. 

"B, I'm sorry–"

"I think you should be proud of yourself. I don't think I've ever seen anyone make this much mess in just three days. It's— it's kind of impressive Charlie." She paused to cross her arms and survey the room one more time. "Wait, what happened to your housekeepers?" 

"I fired them." She said, "And the cook, and the driver— I fired all of the staff." 

Beatrice cooked her head to the side and blinked. 

"Why?" 

"I went to see my dad the other day. I told him I didn't want to work for the company anymore, and I didn't want any more of his money or his financial support. I…" she paused and swallowed. "I told him I didn't want to see him again for a while."

Beatrice felt a pang of guilt shoot through her chest. She hoped Charlie hadn't done that for her. She hated the man, but she didn't want Charlie to feel forced into cutting off her only living parent, even if he wasn't about to win any father of the year awards. 

"... Why?" She asked it again, this time more quietly. 

"Because it's not right of me to say I don't support his decisions, and still benefit financially from them." Charlie said. "I've had everything handed to me my whole life, and I want to prove to myself that I can make it on my own."

"So what happened to the apartment?" Beatrice asked. 

Charlie paused to look around and survey the state of the apartment, and quickly deflated like she had been defeated by the dirty dishes in the sink. She sighed, and sat down the pack of cheese in her hand and rubbed the back of her head. 

"I was trying to get the apartment ready to sell, because I honestly don't think I'll be able to afford it without my dad's money. Somehow, it ended up like this. I've never been the most organized person, so I guess I should have expected it." 

Her brows were knitted together in worry and her hand came up to grab her chin. Her brown eyes seemed distant and unfocused. Everything about her seemed unfocused at the moment.

Beatrice walked over and grabbed her hand and gently squeezed it. 

"It's okay Charlie. We'll figure it out. I'll help you." 

"I just don't want to disappoint you. I know you never had anything for most of your life, and I wanted to give you everything." 

"Charlie, I don't need the most expensive apartment in New Atlanta to be happy. I lived without running water for two weeks once. All I need to be happy is to be with you." 

"I'm sure having running water definitely helps, though." Charlie said. "I'm sure all of the money helps too." 

"But it's not necessary."

"Well, what if I stop being funny?"

"Then I might leave you. That's crossing a line." 

Charlie chuckled snd squeezed her hand. 

"By the way, you didn't fire your security team, did you?"

Charlie let out a nervous laugh. 

"Charlie!" She hissed. 

"Okay, okay. Maybe I can keep some of the staff." She said. "I'll get on it, I promise." 

"Okay." She said. "Becuase I can't be here to keep you safe all of the time. 

"Don't worry." Charlie said. "I think I can finally handle myself now. 

Beatrice smiled and tried to look optimistic, but deep down she was worried. The future seemed to uncertain right now. 

Here Charlie was, discarding her financial and physical security based on principal, while she was chasing the security of working for the government and the approval of the public. 

Maybe I really am a sellout after all.