╭ ╮
━━━━ " 📂 "
𝘼 𝙋 𝙊 𝘾 𝘼 𝙇 𝙔 𝙋 𝙎 𝙀
╰ ╯
QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY
2013
THERE WAS ENTIRELY THE POSSIBILITY that MJ would end the day with feeling as though she had wasted her weekend. Saturdays, by default, were never wasted and instead spent in the labs at the Oscorp Headquarters and when she fell asleep that night she often felt more accomplished than after anything else.
But Sunday was the day that ruined it. It was an empty day, void of any set activities and left MJ having no idea what to do to appease the guilty giant that grew within her stomach over the course of the twenty-four hours and would end with her sitting in a dark room, barely lit by the bulb in her lamp and feeling as though she had wasted away her life yet again.
That was unfair - to herself and to those she chose to distract herself with - Margot just didn't know what she had to do to finally be satisfied with the choices she had made over the days. It was difficult, but if she kept herself busy then maybe she wouldn't feel as such. And so, once Saturday came to an end once again and she read herself to sleep, MJ knew there were certain choices she would have to make when she woke up on Sunday.
It was unexpectedly light when she did awake, usually found the feeling of guilt so overpowering that she would regain consciousness was at the break of dawn, when her dad was stumbling in from the bar down the road or already fast asleep on the couch ready to make his way to the shower and then appear in front of his daughter and sometimes son as though he was the perfect father he liked to present. It wasn't that he acted any different under the influence, but the idea of MJ getting another call when the bar was taking it's last call to come and collect her barely-able-to-walk father was nauseating.
At least she could be grateful he didn't treat them poorly, or else Margot didn't know how she would do it.
It seemed to be the shouts of laughter coming from somewhere in the apartment that woke her up, and for a long minute she laid there, eyes on the ceiling, trying to comprehend what was happening around her. The realisation that the curtains she hung from the sole window in her room did absolutely nothing stung, but no more than when she turned her head to the side, saw the alarm clock and shot upwards, flinching when there was a clatter and far-too loud bang.
Cautiously, she peered over the side of her bed and sighed when she saw the curving spine of the book she had been reading and obviously fell asleep whilst in the middle of. These days she had a habit of doing that, and for all she knew it was unintentionally, but reading until she was quite literally too exhausted to do anything else was becoming a problem.
But otherwise she would lay awake for hours, so in some sense it was a rather good idea. It was the first time she had slept until that time in the morning, certainly.
MJ hadn't even managed to get out of bed yet when her phone rang, her fingers curling around the chunk of plastic and lifting it to her ear as she drew her knees up to her chest, swathed in the flower printed bed sheets. "Gwen.. hi, we didn't have plans, did we?" She stifled a yawn with her hand. She might have slept for a time longer than usual, but it didn't seem to have adjusted her energy levels to an adequate point just yet.
"Plans?" Gwen's voice echoed in her ear. There was a note of confusion in her tones, and she could almost imagine her best friend tucking a stray few strands of hair behind her ear. "No, we didn't.. did we?"
"No? Not that I know of." Came the reply.
"If I did, I suppose we're both insanely late for them." The blonde chuckled. "You sound like you just woke up - which is good, it's good - and sorry to ruin your Sunday but you left your bag here last night."
MJ let out a sigh, burying her face in her hands. Curls of dark hair tumbled over her hands, a stark contrast against her skin. Usually, she was the one to work Saturdays and Gwen the following day, but as their division prepared for the influx of students from their own school and a number of others across the city boroughs, they had required a little more help.
"You didn't have plans, did you? If you did I can just bring it to school tomorrow and-"
"I'll come get it." MJ brightened her tone, pushing herself up from her mattress, skirting around the furniture stuffed into the close quarters of her room. "I need to leave the apartment anyway so.. see you in a couple hours, if you aren't busy?"
"I'm mostly just sorting out files. We could get lunch?" The phone was balanced between MJ's ear and shoulder now, the girl stood in front of the hand painted doors of her closet. Her hand leafed between hangers of clothes before selecting several items. "MJ?"
"Sorry - yeah, lunch." Margot nodded. "I'll be there."
She hung up the call, found her outfit for the day and hurried to change into them. If she was going to work she had to look at least remotely smart, and chose a dark brown pinstripe skirt and waistcoat set, the waistcoat hanging open around a print long-sleeved t-shirt. She'd pull a blazer over it so she seemed presentable, but once she left the building to partake in her own choice of activities, then she wouldn't need to bother with it. Several necklaces hung from her neck as she pulled socks and shoes on, tying up the laces before reaching for her spare bag, needing something to put her wallet, phone, keys and MetroCard until she got up to the Oscorp building.
Once she finished getting ready, having pulled the sheets over her bed to make it as neat as possible and opening the window to allow some clean air in, MJ finally got the chance to find out what the hell the noise had been about. It wasn't often that the Queens apartment was so lively in the mornings - and it certainly wasn't when it was just Margot and her father.
And when he wasn't at the bar or home, he was also at Oscorp, where he worked in the Robotics Lab. But it seemed like most, John wouldn't be working that Sunday and was at home. As was Jack.. which definitely wasn't supposed to happen. "I thought Val was keeping him until Tuesday." MJ came to a stop at the end of the hallway, eyes dusting over the sight of the small kitchen and living room combined into one.
Her father was stood by the kitchen island that curved around to seperate up the space, the doorway right beside the three stools that served as their only surface for eating. On the cream couch, which had been rescued from a second-hand shop and been covered in knitted blankets and cushions to hide the stains, Jack was curled up watching cartoons, a glass of orange soda on the chipped coffee table.
John lifted his coffee cup to his lips, smiling once he saw his daughter. "Morning MJ." He said. "Valerie had to go to Toronto again. She'll be back next Monday. Until then, Jack's with us."
"Morning." MJ pulled her bag strap further up on her shoulder. She faltered, glancing between them. "He shouldn't be drinking soda this early." She said, before heading towards the sofa and crouching down besides the six-year-old, pressing a kiss to his forehead and smoothing back his hair. "Did Val get you some more gel?"
Jack shook his head, eyes still on the TV. "Stole it from Mikey." He mumbled a reply, wiping off the kiss and hardly looking away when she stood up, scooping up his cup as she went.
"Mikey?" MJ asked as she came to stand by her dad again. He shrugged. "New step-dad?" She offered, turning towards the fridge and placing the glass inside, instead taking out the almost empty bottle of juice, pouring a cup and replacing it on the coffee table. "Is Mikey going to Toronto?"
"Who knows." It was clear to say that John no longer seemed to care about his ex-girlfriend, eyes almost wistful as he came to land on Margot. "What are your plans for today, sweetheart? Going over to Oscorp?" He asked, smoothing the dark hair over her head, adjusting cream and sage silk bandana tied over it. "Something else maybe? A book shop or meeting with friends?"
"I left my stuff at the Tower yesterday." MJ sighed. "Gwen's rescued it for me so I'm going up to get it. I'm thinking of going to a record store.. and then I'll pick up a few groceries, get something for dinner?"
"Good idea." John nodded, digging into his pockets. "Here - take this, stops me from spending it all tonight. And, try to stop me too. I'll try the whole week this time. So Jack won't wake up with me.. staggering in at three in the morning - or - or you won't have to come and get me again. Kev's usually friendly about it but you shouldn't have to."
"I don't mind it so much." MJ shrugged, swallowing back her lies. "I just want you to get back home safe and alive. That's all. I don't mind doing it as long as you don't get run over trying to cross... but it would be nice if you didn't."
"I'll try this time. Go get your bag." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and pushed her towards the door, before pausing and reaching into one of the cupboards, holding out one of the stray chocolate chip granola bars. "Here - I know you don't eat breakfast this late but it's a while until lunch."
"Thanks." She tucked it into her pocket. "Make sure he eats something substantial - Jack, I'll see you later - and maybe go to the park or something, it's bad for his eyes to watch TV all day."
🕸
It didn't take her long to walk the distance to the 71st Avenue station, hurrying down the stairs, looking each way before hopping over the barriers besides the readers and heading down onto the platform. She only had to wait a couple minutes before the next train arrived and she got on, having to hurry around to change lines halfway through before she emerged at the station on the other side of the river, the 57th Street station just as busy as ever.
Nobody seemed to care whether or not she was paying for her journey as she dodged the turnstile once more and emerged out onto the busy street, walking the rest of her journey in such a short time. Once getting into the building it didn't take long for her to get past security, despite her lack of badge (it was an idiotic move to tuck it away in her bag to keep away from some of the chemicals she had been helping move through the department), considering that she looked particularly similar to her first ever ID photo taken there.
MJ didn't know whether to take that as a compliment or not, but she regarded the new found ability to actually get into her work as a win, so didn't mind so much.
Her time in the building wouldn't last long after everything, despite having lunch plans with Gwen, but without knowing this just yet, Margot made her way up to the floor of the Cross-Species Division.
"MJ, back for another day of help? Couldn't scare you away with mountains of filing?"
"Good morning Dr. Connors." MJ pulled the lab coat her boss held out to her over her outfit. The blond man nodded his own greeting, awaiting her answer. He was an amicable man, "Unfortunately no more filing for me, I'm just here to pick up my bag - I left it here last night. Is Gwen around?"
"She should be. I must get back to work, but let me know if I'm able to help with anything." Connors patted her on the shoulder with his lone hand as he passed, and Margot held the sides of the coat tighter, hiding her semi-unprofessional outfit from view.
It took her a while to actually locate Gwen, eventually finding her within one of the more private spaces in the department, holding a clipboard over several files, whilst wearing one-use plastic gloves. Applying pulling the same thin material over her own hands and hiding her bag in the small office outside, MJ stepped into the room of glowing red.
"They're aware that instant cameras are a thing now, right?" She joked, watching as the blonde jumped, in the midst of extracting another sheet from the processing solution, before acknowledging her friend and tucking her clipboard and files under her arm and pining it up along the string tied from either side of the room.
"As in we're not stuck in the eighties?" Gwen turned back to look at her finally, a contrite smile curving at the corners of her mouth. "I guess they want to do these the old fashioned way.. black and white images of mice that have been tested on."
She wrinkled her nose, letting her friend rearrange her usually absurdly straight bangs back into place, turning down to her clipboard and ticking off one of the rows. "I left your bag at my station.. I don't think I can make our lunch plans." The Stacy gestured at her clipboard. "I need to complete all this today."
"Oh geez - Gwen, you'll run yourself into the ground. I'll do some tomorrow after school, just leave it to me okay?" MJ leant over her shoulder, scanning the list and plucking the pen from her hands. "Here - this half I'll do. I'll go pick you up a sandwich and leave you to it, okay?" The idea sparked as soon as Gwen's admittance to be unable to make lunch - if she couldn't spare a few minutes to go down to the cafeteria, Margot knew she wouldn't be able to go at all.
"MJ-" She went to protest, but it was to no avail, Margot already heading towards the door.
"Get back to developing photos. I'll leave it on your desk, make sure to take the break as soon as possible." MJ grinned. Even in the dark red light, her friend's features lit up with guilt and the brunette shook her head. "Gwen - seriously. I don't mind about the whole lunch thing. I'm going to a café anyway - so have fun!"
She was halfway out the door when she paused and came back in, closing the door behind her. "Just a reminder - your favourite sandwich?" MJ asked.
"Just get me whatever.. and a drink, please." Gwen nodded, flashing a smile as she carefully stepped out of the room without letting too much bright light in. Half an hour later, when she finally did take her break, she would return to her desk to find one rather large sandwich left behind, a pack of chips, a fruit pot and a drink, the bottle top homing a drawing of a tiny smiley face in permanent marker.
Of course, MJ was nowhere to be seen, lab coat hung up and bag taken, already hopping the turnstiles once again and just about making it through the doors of the train before they set off once again, this time heading back across the East River. But instead of her destination being Forest Hills in Queens, she was destined towards Williamsburg, in Brooklyn.
It was much closer to where Jack's mother lived, and the thought of her saving her father the trouble and picking him up later in the day crossed her mind. But it was too late now and he was already curled up in their living room, and MJ was headed towards one of her favourite places in the outer boroughs.
High Noon was a records store - well not just that. The owners - a woman called Betty and her husband Bruno - had wanted something that combined all sorts of things, because God knows how to keep an independent store running in the modern economy, and soon High Noon became a bookstore, a cafe, an art gallery, a records store, a place for people to sell their products, even racks of knitted-wear popping up every now and again.
She had first been with her mom, and then when it came to moving to Brooklyn to live with Valerie after she had fallen pregnant at the result of her relationship with John, eleven-year old Margot had found herself sorely disappointed with the noise in the house after the baby arrived and often found her escape in wandering the streets. She was a smart kid, didn't need to worry about directions, always knew her way back and who to ask if she didn't.
And just because she lived in Queens again, it was by no means a reason for her to simply forget about it.
Bedford Avenue station wasn't far from High Noon, and it was in no time at all MJ was across the street, crossing the road (definitely not by the crossing), slipping between two parked cars to get on the pavement, listening as someone shouted 'heads!' as she approached the corner on which the shop was located and very suddenly felt her feet leave the ground, a pair of hands gripping her waist, a whirlwind of air around her and the common sound of a skateboard coming to a stop.
Margot froze at the sudden movement, eyes wide as she vowed herself not to move in case whoever it was that was holding her could potentially hurt her by accident if she did. It was only when she was safely back on the ground, feet planted on the concrete of the sidewalk that she did so.
Slowly, she looked up only to feel her jaw drop and if possible at all, her eyes widened even further. "Shit - Peter." She began, but before MJ could go any further, her old childhood friend had other plans.
"MJ." Peter Parker spoke softly, with the air of someone who hadn't seen a long lost friend in years. This wasn't the same for Peter. Peter had seen MJ on Friday, and considering it was Sunday it was the slightest bit of an overreaction. And luckily for him, he realised it quickly, clearing his throat as he reached down to pick up his board. "Sorry - wasn't looking where I was going.. and I was going too fast."
"To be fair, you did give me a warning." Margot shrugged, offering him a smile. "That being said... you're a long way from home."
"And that being said, so are you." Peter relayed the message back to her, hand reaching to tug at his ear lobe as he realised just how stupid he was being. This was the first proper conversation they had shared in years, and he was being this idiotic? It was disgraceful, and he couldn't believe that Aunt May had once said he had the social skills of an overbearing green bean and she was right.
"Stopping in on my way back from Oscorp.. well I left my bag there yesterday and I was supposed to have lunch with Gwen but she was busy - and this place does the best bagels and I was heading here anyway so I thought... I thought I would bump into Peter Parker and then ramble to him about my plans for the day." Margot brought herself to a stop, shaking her own head at her words.
"No way." But Peter didn't seem to have noticed nor cared about the never ending bubble of words. He adjusted his grip on his board, attempting to shift the backpack strap over his shoulder further up. "This place?" His words were accentuated by his index finger pointing towards it. "Me too!"
MJ smiled at him. "Well in that case?" She began towards the entrance to High Noon, holding the door open for him as he entered behind her.
As always, the store was alive with an energy only a building like that could produce, alive with music and laughter and creativity. Limited edition disks lined the exposed brick, sometimes broken up by a canvas painted with the most obscure image, bookshelves stocked haphazardly with certain leather-bounds pulled out and presented on pedestals by the tiny café area, which in itself saw an elaborately written specials board and different posies of flower on each rainbow-stained wooden table. Cushions were sewn onto the bottoms of the chairs with loops of material around the metal spokes holding up the back rest, velvet couches stuffed into tightest of corners and covered in pillows and blankets and people - and seemingly, a couple of ginger cats.
Records were stored in the centre of the room in large open-topped boxes, all conjoined by slices of wood that had been adjusted ever so slightly. At the end, there was an old jukebox and on the table beside it a painted-yellow record player. Above the old bathrooms, a red light flashed and at the cash register it held that ever-so-interesting ring every time the gold-topped lever was pulled to open the cash drawer. In one corner, there was a further display of artwork besides a stand of honey-based bath products, someone stood by them hurriedly promoting them to a witless tourist who had wandered in as though his minuscule amount of internet research had provided him with enough knowledge to appear local.
"Question." Peter scanned the room, took in the contents before glancing at his former friend. "And I don't want you to take offense to this, really I don't even know why I'm asking, seeing as the last time I actually knew anything about you was when we were eight... but what exactly do you like in here?"
Margot didn't even blink. She could see why he thought that. Peter's own presence was to be expected, given his talent for photography. This was the sort of artistic space one would admit to envisioning him standing in the centre of. But for MJ? They mostly saw her in a lab, or walking alongside Gwen, sitting at that table at the top of the cafeteria too silently to consider she was sitting with friends.
Instead, she shrugged, wiping her feet on the large doormat and heading further in. Peter followed her without a thought, watching as she came to a stop by the storage of vinyls in their sleeves. "I collect them." MJ finally answered, slowly flicking through the stack of one, examining the cover. "I like to think I have semi-good taste in music, and I express that narcissism and egomania by collecting the stuff I like so I can show them off when people come around."
He chuckled at that. She might not have had the same humour as she had when she was eight, but MJ could be a hell of a charismatic person. Peter was just confused as to why he and Gwen Stacy seemed to be the only ones who knew this.
"So." He leant forward, leaning his skateboard against a post in the centre of the room, placing his arms carefully one in front of the other on the edge of the record storage, looking up at her. "Trying to finish part of your collection? Or just looking?"
"I'm missing a key couple of pieces." Margot replied, continuing to thumb through them. "Suffragette City and Head Over Heels." The titles might as well have been hammered into her brain until they left a visible mark, having repeated them all through her train journey. "I love them.. don't really know why I didn't pick them up before."
Peter didn't answer immediately, and MJ turned towards him. He was clearly thinking about what she had said - or perhaps something else - but it soon because it became obvious that it was the prior when he turned, eyes somewhat alight. "Bowie and.. Tears for Fears." He named, watching as she nodded.
"Yeah, they're the ones." MJ confirmed, her fingers sliding over to the alphabetised sections and skimming the tops of the sleeves, often pulling them out and examining the lettering across them before she finally found the one she was looking for. 1976 edition, a picture of the artist on a vibrant background with purple lettering. Perfect.
She turned to head towards a later section, coming to a stop when she already saw Peter stood there, fingers enclosed around a large four-leaf clover. "I thought I would find it for you.. to try and offer an apology for almost hitting you." He shrugged, holding it out to her. "This is the one, right?"
Peter looked around, nodding towards a small section of shelves and pictures in large, sticker-covered frames. "They sell some photography stuff here. I need more film for my cameras."
"Genuine polaroid or one of the newer ones?"
"Genuine polaroid." He looked almost proud at his answer, especially when MJ looked a little more impressed. "You used to have a couple polaroids , didn't you, of your mom?"
She met his gaze again, slowly. "My prized possessions. I can't believe you remembered."
It wasn't hard for him to, and Peter felt himself flushing again. "Yeah - yeah, of course I did. Your mom was a wonderful person." He reached to rub the back of his neck, head tilting to the side as MJ took the initiative to begin towards the photography section he was talking about.
"So genuine polaroid, you shoot with anything else?" She asked, looking at a few of the photo albums of cumulated work from the community around them. She noticed he was staring at her. "Sorry - it's just.. I don't know much about you anymore."
"No, it's fine, really. I sort of insulted you back there about what I didn't know, so.." He shrugged. "Other than polaroid, mostly SLRs.. vintage ones at that. Do you still like to read books about as big as your head?"
"They get thicker and more complicated each year." Margot nodded. She glanced down to the watch on her wrist - a circle of brown leather attached to the golden watch face marked with roman numerals - and let out a sigh. "I have to go check their current books before going to pick up some groceries so my dad doesn't try to feed my brother nothing but soda and candy but.. Peter?"
She took a step back, glancing towards the sets of bookcases before back at him, seeing Peter looking up at and nodding, eyes wide. "Don't be a stranger, okay?"
"Yeah." Peter watched as she made her way across the store once again. "Yeah - I'll see you tomorrow." He raised his hand in a half-wave, turning back towards the rows of boxes he needed to choose from.
And every so often, until she slipped out of the building with her bag looking much heavier than before, Peter would glance up and see MJ Watson stood across the store from him, a content smile on her face.
❛ AUTHORS NOTE ━━ i'm genuinely so excited to write this book you have no idea but i just need to clear a couple things up first so that it isn't confusing to anyone (idk if it is but i'd like to do so anyway, and if i added another section to my notes in the introduction i feel as though it would have been too much)
first of all, if you're someone who has followed me on this account before or on my alternate account ( hvgwcrts ) then you may know just how many books i have. i am also in year 11, which means i have exams in the summer but that also means i have extended holidays. i'll be trying to update things regularly and at the best of my abilities, however i aim to make these chapters on the longer side (3000-5000 words) so please forgive me if i don't manage to update weekly. also that being said, i'm hoping to update this every saturday, but don't hold me to it
second, this isn't a book where mj is the second love interest. peter's whole thing with gwen just doesn't happen at all, she is simply mj's best friend. however i may end up using the nickname of bug boy because it's cute and i love it
anyways because to what's important, mj presents herself as someone with no worries - someone like gwen, who is confident in what she is doing, is kind, friendly and sociable. mj is also these thing, however she isn't as confident in herself as she'd like to be and almost feels as though there is someone out there who makes me feel more confident. and there is.
but just because she ends up growing throughout the book does not mean she changed because of someone else. she changed because she wanted to, for herself, under the influence of someone else.
third, in the films jack's dad is called troy. i can't think of troy without thinking of troy bolton, thus troy is now john. i can't call a character troy and be serious about it.
that's all i have to say, and i'm pretty sure this isn't spoiling anything bc i've already kinda established that dynamic in the introduction and the snippet in act one.
<3