❛ 𝐄𝐗𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ❜ ━ miguel o'hara

𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨

I push open the door of the coffee shop, the familiar electronic ding of the motion sensor calming my rattled nerves.

I've been a regular at this place for quite a bit of time.

Owned and managed entirely by Mr. Malik and his teenage son, Zain, the small coffee shop has become a place of comfort for me over the years. This cafe has been the permanent home I never had.
In fact, when I came back to the city after visiting an old foster family in Pennsylvania, "Malik's Brew" was the first place I visited after landing in JFK. After a week of awkward interactions with people I had only lived with for six months, a cup of black coffee was just what I needed.

Mr. Malik looks up from the register, his stern resting face fading into a warm, toothy smile upon recognizing me. I'm sure I look exhausted.

"Ah, long time no see, sweet girl! Would you like your usual?" Exclaimed the old man, leaning against the counter.
"You know it!" I grinned, sliding into the nearest chair.

Within seconds, Mr. Malik places my usual order in front of me. A cinnamon bagel topped with raspberry jelly, and black coffee.

I sink my teeth into the thick bread, savoring the sweet raspberry flavor. I ignore the familiar sound of gunshots in the distance as I slowly sip on my coffee, the hot liquid warming my body. Mr. Malik returns to his place at the register, overseeing some business information on a few holograms.

He adjusts his reading glasses and sighs.

"This neighborhood gets more and more dangerous by the day. It makes you wonder, what good is Spiderman doing in this city?" He notes, staring down at nothing. I feel a perplexed expression grow on my face, and I look up at the old man with a confused smile.

I don't think I've ever heard somebody protest Spiderman, even if unintentional.

He notices my confusion and evidently regrets his choice of words.

"No, no, I just mean-- how can one man protect the entirety of Nueva York? You know, Zain calls me crazy for this, but I think it would make things run smoother if there were two spider-people running around." He rants as I listen intently, resting my chin on my palm.

"You do have a point. That would be weird though." I chuckle, reaching for the napkin holder across the table to wipe my mouth of jelly. My elbow juts out, and I accidentally bump my coffee cup, sending it flying over the edge of the table.
What happens next is beyond scientific explanation.

A white string shoots from my wrist, seemingly piercing my skin to escape. The string sticks itself to the coffee cup, pulling it back to its original position within a second.
I gasp in disbelief. I blink once. Then twice.

Did that just happen?

I examine my wrist in shock, looking closely for any sign of an exit the string could have come out of. My head snaps up to face Mr. Malik, but he appears to be completely oblivious, eyes glued to the purple holograms. I inspect my surroundings from my seated position, noting that I'm still the only customer here.

A sharp pang runs up my hand, the source of course being the spider bite. I grit my teeth, wincing in pain as I grab my wrist. The pain refuses to subside, instead returning in quick waves. Why the hell is this happening now of all times?

I pull out my phone and stagger over to the register, showing the QR code connected to my bank account to Mr. Malik. I do my best to suppress whimpers of pain, holding my wounded arm close to my side, out of his view.

He scans the QR code, giving me a friendly nod when the payment goes through. I muster up a smile.
"Thanks so much, Mr. Malik- ! Tell Zain I said hello." I utter in one breath before making a beeline for the door.
I stumble out onto the sidewalk, weaving through the thick crowd.