MIZPAH | CLARK KENT II

TWELVE

• • •
7:20 AM.
• • •

My nerves were jittery and my heart was quickly pitter-pattering away against my rib cage. The two hosts, Donny Michaelson, a seasoned gentleman with stark white hair and an obvious tan, and Lisa Forbes, the much younger blonde with the shining blue eyes were getting touched up beside me.

They had barely said much to me all morning. I worried they carried some resentment towards me just like the majority of the world did, but I wasn't here to talk about that. I wasn't here to prove myself to these people.

I fidgeted with the brown worn leather strap of my watch and glanced around the set. The Metropolis Morning Show set had a backdrop of the skyline of Metropolis made to appear like it was right out the window behind us. I had thought it'd be bigger, add more to the ambiance of a homey warm, and welcoming place to get your daily news, but where the camera didn't pick up on the screen is where the set stopped. I surveyed the two next to me sitting in their plush dark grey armchairs and looked at my slightly lighter one.

Cautiously, I crossed my ankles and set my hands in my lap as the makeup artists began to retreat. Lisa turned to me and gave me a warm smile. I expected her to say something, anything to me, but she hadn't. Her blue eyes glazed over me moments before she plastered a smile on her face.

That was my signal. I smiled back like we were best friends and tried not to look nervous as the director began to countdown. The same uneasy feeling came over me in a shudder and I quickly shoved it away to turn my full attention to the two very fake people in front of me.

• • •
8:15 AM
• • •

"I'm very happy I was put on this project, it helped me heal. And I hope it'd help the world heal, hearing all the amazing things that he's done and how he's impacted, people." I explained.

We have been talking about the success of the article and how critics are already receiving it well. So far neither Michael or Lisa have brought up Ben, the attack I was in or what happens next. The segment was to only go until 8:30, and I knew there wasn't much time left, but I couldn't count them out just yet. A headache was looming behind my left eye and the bright lights weren't helping.

"Ms. Westmore, now that Superman is back and the world has welcomed him with open arms, does it bother you that you aren't a recipient of that anymore since you've moved on?" Lisa asked tipping her head to the right while her manicured nails trailed along her note cards.

"Oh," I swallowed, "I couldn't have known he'd come back, and I am so glad that he is alive, words can't describe it. It took me a really long time to find happiness again, but I did find it."

She nodded her lips right, "Do you think he's handling it well?"

"Superman? Of course."

We did speak about it. He did kind of give me his blessing.

Michael then turns to camera three, "Just this morning the first sightings of Superman had the world shocked." He then turns to me, "What can you make of this, Ms. Westmore, should we be worried?"

"Worried? I'm not sure I follow."

Then on the screen on the adjacent wall, a video pops up and all eyes are on it. It's a phone camera video, a bit shaky but undeniably clear. I frown and watch as dozens of people are trying to get a small family out of a burning house. The son is on the lawn being held back by neighbors screaming for his mother and sister.

People are trying to get into the building, but the heat of the flames is too much for them and some bystanders had already begun to fight the flames with pails of water. I glance back to the two hosts trying to get a read on what their angle is but like me they are watching this footage with fresh eyes and I tear my eyes from their well-kept hair.

Suddenly, the fire goes out. It's gone as if a large gust of wind had swept through the neighborhood, but I know it's Superman. Cheers and cries fill the air as the crowds realize it too. The young man's sobs have calmed and everyone's attention is on the house, waiting with baiting breath for the mother and daughter to be seen. The man holding the camera pans it away from the house as his confusion echoes the crowd after a few moments have passed. The feed shows the grass and his beat-up Jordan's before gasps erupt and he pans the camera.

The moment I see what everyone else sees my stomach drops and I try not to gasp in shock. On the screen, before me stands Superman with the unconscious woman in his arms but fear is bubbling off of everyone around him as he stands before them in a black suit and only the daughter.

"Now, Ms. Westmore do you think he's handling the abandonment of the woman he loves as well as you assumed?" Lisa asks and the only thing I can do is stare at the camera in shock.

• • •
7:55 PM
• • •

"No. I will not answer any of your questions! Do not call me again!" I hit the end call button on my phone and tossed it onto the couch. Running my hands through my hair in frustration I slumped into my couch cushions wishing for the day to be over.

News channels have been playing my guest spot on repeat since this morning. The headlines weren't kind to me. Painting me as the woman who broke the world's savior's heart, that I abandoned him. They've claimed I've moved on too fast and that my relationship was just to fill a void. So many people have dissected every day of my life leading up to his return and I had less and less self-control with every new unknown number that called.

Keys in the door alerted me to Ben, and a new wave of uneasiness swelled over me. Last night, he had asked - no revealed to me that Clark Kent was Superman and I had told him that we'd talk today about it, but after the day I've had I didn't know if I wanted to.

He entered the apartment sending me an odd look after he shut and locked the door. His brow was creased and his sleeves were rolled up, I watched him walk into the bedroom, heard him kick off his shoes and dispose of his briefcase before walking back out with eyes trained on me. I swallowed and pinched my nose as a headache loomed, feeling the need for something to occupy my hands I cupped my tea, bringing it my lips.

Ben perched on the end of the small clothed bin that was also a footstool and clasped his hands in front of him, I kept my gaze away from his eyes and stared at the scar on my thumb.

"You said you'd tell me today."

My eyes snapped to him, "Change of plans. You already know his identity, I don't think I have to tell you much else."

Ben sucks in a breath, "Are you serious?"

I place my mug down already hearing the edge in his voice and respond, "Yes. I'm very serious, Ben. I don't ever ask about April, do I?"

He launches to his feet, his eyes dark with anger and his voice deep as he lashes out, "You don't get to keep this from me, Annie! Not when he's the one-!"

"He's the one that what, Ben?" I hiss.

His eyes go wide as if to catch himself and I watch him reign in a bit of his anger, "Not when he's the one who you are clearly still in love with."

• • •
I hope everyone's Holidays went well! Onto 2020! It's so close! I hope the last 5 days of 2019 treat you well!!

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