To Anonymous: you made high school that little bit brighter and I'm honoured to have been able to call you one of my best friends for almost two of those years. I am so so sorry you thought this was your only way out. My only regret is not savouring your craziness while it lasted.
Sleep well, brother <3
Elixir was waiting for me in the living room.
His dark green suit glistened like jade under the dim living room lighting – a stark contrast to the sharp blue eyes peaking out from behind his mask. His black hair was tousled from the effort of tying his mask, with inky locks peeking out from under the silky fabric. Arms crossed, Elixir wore a smirk enough to make any girl swoon, but unfortunately for them, he was taken. The "bad boy" superhero was head over heels for another super with enough sass and foresight to put any of his pursuers to shame: Athena.
"Ready?" Elixir uncrossed his arms when he saw me, motioning to the door.
"Am I ever," I grinned. Believe it or not, crime fighting was a great way to relieve stress. Of course, that's when the media isn't on your back all the time. Poor Gold Thrush, for instance, had reporters breathing down his neck, constantly chastising the actions he took against Obsidian Black or pressing for countless interviews. As for the rest of us, however, it was great. Us "little guys" had a lot of fun. Sure my friends were some of the most powerful supers in the city, but we didn't possess a whole lot of leadership. Dresden, who did, stayed out of the limelight, so the rest of us stayed relatively under the radar as well, appearing only on the occasional news channel after rescuing a cat from a burning house or yet another tourist from being mugged.
Tonight's grand escapade: to be determined. And with my luck, most likely a mugging. Boring? Yes. Mundane? Yes. But did it take my attention off of bigger, crazier matters? Totally. I knew Gabriel didn't exactly approve of this crime-fighting alter ego, but sometimes it felt like he was just shielding me from the world. My boyfriend had seen horrors I couldn't even begin to imagine; his own parents had been on opposite sides of good and evil, sparking a civil war amongst his family and the whole town. The star-crossed lovers had been shunned and along with them, Gabriel himself. A son of the Romeo-and-Juliette–dubbed couple, it wasn't a big surprise that he was outcast.
Eventually, I thought about IH. I thought about the Invisible Hand's reaction when he found out who Gabriel really was. He hadn't had the subtlest tactic of broaching the topic – more like he laughed out loud in Gabriel's face – but...
"Did you know," Dresden broke the silence then. The two of us had made it out of my apartment and on to the street. We walked in the shadows, keeping close to the walls and sticking to the quieter avenues, hoping to avoid stirring up attention. "–that all those galaxies out there are just big fixer-uppers?"
"What do you mean?" I asked, suppressing a giggle. Lately, Dresden had been getting really pensive.
"All these years, we've thought the galaxies were all fixed and organised and that they were never gonna change, but apparently they started out all scrambled and disorientated."
"Personifying a galaxy," I mumbled to myself, "you're really far gone–"
"I overheard one of the astrologists at Blaze Labs thinking about it last year. All those galaxies and they're still rearranging themselves."
I nodded along silently. This was a whole different Dresden from the one I'd known last year. 92% of the time – trust me, I'd calculated – he was still his snarky, arrogant self. The other 8%, however, it was like he was the reincarnation of Socrates.
After his little philosophical outburst, we continued walking in silence.
"So how's the diner?" Dresden asked in a tone that implied he was back to his regular self: the one I had grown to dislike just slightly less.
"Oh, you know..." I trailed off, refusing to meet his eyes. Months of reading my mind since I had landed the diner job should have alerted him that my job at the diner was a touchy topic.
"Annie," his voice was suddenly much deeper and I dragged my eyes up to meet his. "You really shouldn't have given up that internship–"
"I don't want to hear it," I snapped, "don't you think I get enough of that from my mom?"
"You dream job is to be a metaphysiologist!" Dresden argued back. And this was his third persona: tough love. The kind that on the outside sounded like he was just yelling at you to be rude, but that I knew meant he actually cared.
"Maybe it's not anymore," I shrugged, filling my thoughts with architecture as I did so, trying to drown out the excitement at the prospect of studying superpowers instead.
"Architecture?" Dresden's cocked eyebrow told me he wasn't buying it.
"I've been playing a lot of Sims lately," I rambled desperately, "and I've wasted all my Simoleons – that's Sim currency – on designing the houses–"
"Annie–"
"And it's actually pretty cool–"
"Annie–"
"And I found this new architecture app that lets you design houses and it's like the Sims and you can do interior design as well and so maybe the architecture part isn't that interesting, but the interior design–"
"Annie, this isn't you!"
My mouth snapped shut and I looked at him again, only realising now that my gaze had drifted elsewhere.
"It isn't you," he prodded gently.
"Oh, you wanna talk about what's 'not me'?" I asked in a tone that made it clear my question was not to be answered. Dresden's eyes dropped to his feet, already hearing what I was about to say from my thoughts. "Says the guy who just told me about galaxies. I know you love science, Dresden, but you sounded high just now. Do you think maybe this is just you compensating for–"
"For what?" He interrupted, his expression warning me not to continue.
"You're filling your mind with useless thoughts – yours and other peoples' – to compensate for losing your best friend!" I huffed.
"And what about you?" Dresden challenged.
"What about me?" I fired back.
"Let's talk about Gabriel–"
"No." I said firmly, knowing where this would lead. Ever since I'd started dating Gabriel, Dresden had insisted–
"You want to talk about compensating? Annie, your whole relationship is a compensation for the one you had before!" I turned my head so I wouldn't have to listen, blinking hard to get rid of the stinging I recognised all-too-well as the onset of tears. "Your feelings for Gabby are nothing compared to what you felt for–"
"Okay!" I yelped, "that's enough!"
I quickened my pace to get ahead of him, swiping angrily at my eyes and trying to put as much distance between me and this conversation as possible. Not that I would ever give him the satisfaction of telling him he was right, but... I knew that a small part of what Dresden preached about IH was true.
I found myself looking up, then. At the stars, at the constellations, at the millions of galaxies hidden away in the furthest nooks and crannies of the still-expanding universe. I thought about the glow-in-the-dark stars still glued to my bedroom ceiling and all the conversations I'd had with him under my very own mini galaxy, however artificial. Those conversations had never felt more real, though.
As much as I hated to admit it, I remembered what it was like to miss him. The early months had been hard. Everything from every day life reminded me of him, to the point where I just wanted to crawl into a ball and hide under my bed. It was in all the little things: Lila sneaking in my window at night that reminded me of my often unwanted visitor. Showing my new friends from the diner my room for the first time and having one of them sit in the corner where he always used to sit. It was in the way Gabriel snuck up on me when we first started flirting. It was in the way I would snort at something my friends did and I remembered every time IH had snorted, blushing so hard he'd often turn himself invisible by accident. It was in the way that every sneeze reminded me of how IH kept accidentally cloning himself every time he sneezed when he was sick or how he'd cough so hard, my blood would boil a little bit from that scary power I always tried to forget about. When someone would pat their pockets in search of their wallet and I remembered Ciaran patting his pockets before a date, trying to remember where he put his money or his omnipresent peppermint gum. When my mom would make popcorn and I remembered how she'd once thrown a bowl at his head when we still believed he was evil in the very beginning. When I was falling asleep and I'd remember how sometimes, when the Invisible Hand was especially sleepy, he'd be talking about one thing and in the middle of the sentence, he'd switch to an entirely new topic without even realising it because his stream of consciousness had been working at a much faster rate than his mouth.
Dresden, having stayed quiet during all of the painful memories getting dredged up, picked that moment to speak:
"Over there," he muttered, his voice all business: no longer small and vulnerable, but rather taking on the authority needed in a moment like this.
Following his gaze, I nearly choked on air. This wasn't our usual mugging. I saw a boy around our age quickening his pace as he glanced nervously behind him at the two men laughing and chortling as they followed the poor guy at a leisurely pace, seeming content to freak him out.
Anger boiled in my veins as I was thrown back to a year ago, when I'd been in a very similar situation. I froze as I remembered what had happened that night...
✩✩✩
I stopped, staring in a mixture of horror and shock up at the huge brick wall in front of me. No way in hell would I be able to climb that. It was run or hide, and my hiding options certainly weren't very good considering the only things in this stupid alley were trashcans full to the brim of what smelled like year-old fruit and an old, soggy mattress. As for running, that wasn't much of a choice either considering two things: (1) there was a wall in front of me and (2) there was a car full of potential muggers behind. Basically, there was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.
The sedan rolled to a stop perpendicular to the mouth of the alley, the crank of the engine cutting off echoing ominously off of the brick walls New York City was so famous for. After what seemed like an eternity, the driver door popped open. I could just make out a shadowy shape, appearing to reach into the backseat of the car before swinging its legs out and standing up. Two other figures followed suit, emerging from the other side of the car.
Not one of the three figures bothered to close the car doors, appearing to think it would be a quick job. I swallowed nervously, beads of sweat beginning to dampen my hairline as my eyes darted around frantically, searching for an alternate route of escape.
The alley seemed to narrow as the driver neared, flanked by the other two figures. All three had the height and build of men; however, their fashion senses could not have been more different. The driver wore what appeared to be a very fancy suit: light grey, with a baby blue tie and black dress shoes shined to perfection. The shoes scintillated in the pale moonlight, seeming to wink at me tauntingly.
As for the two thugs behind him, they were not quite so clean-cut. Where the driver was clean shaven with hair neatly combed to the side, the part so crisp and clear I could see it from twenty feet away, the other two were adorned in dark stubble and mops of shaggy black hair. The thugs wore band tee shirts and khakis - an odd combination - and cheap knock offs of the driver's shoes. All three, however, looked equally menacing.
Now whether your city has superheroes or not, if you've ever seen any kind of superhero movie, you'll know this is around the time the hero is supposed to show up, right? No such luck. You'll also know that if you actually don't have any money on you, the muggers are not going to be pleased. Cue handsome hero to the rescue! Again, no such luck, because this particular hero happened to be running late. What was the point of superheroes if they were never here when you needed them?
I chewed my bottom lip, gnawing at it until I tasted blood. The closer the three men got, the more uneasy I grew. They were beginning to look less like muggers and more like hitmen. In a movement so fast I would have missed it had I blinked, the driver reached behind him into his waistline and produced something sleek and metallic. Just like his shoes, it glistened menacingly in the moonlight. Following his lead, the other two mimicked the movement. I realised with a foreboding sense of dread that all three of them had guns. They all had guns pointed straight at me and I was going to die.
The potential murderers were still advancing, all three of them pointing their guns in my direction. I gulped. Another second of this and I'd be wetting myself. Either that, or lying dead on the cobblestones with my brains splattered all over the alley. I mentally said thanks to whatever possessed me not to drink that extra cup of coffee at Nick's house this afternoon or else it would be in my pants right about now. I also mentally cursed myself for taking the back roads home. Of course, the one time I was truly alone, I got trapped in an alley by the Godfather's henchmen.
"I-I don't have any money," I stammered, showing them my empty wallet for emphasis.
"We don't want your money, sweetheart," Thug #1 rumbled in a smoker's rasp. "We want information." I frowned, thoroughly confused. What information could I have that they could possibly want?
"Carlos!" The driver snapped, before speaking rapidly in a language I didn't recognise. A few phrases sounded vaguely Spanish, but I took French so nothing I could recognise.
Meanwhile, a cold sweat had formed on my brow as I remembered my brother's words from last month: tell them nothing. You give them one answer and they'll come back for more and more and more... Again, I bit my lip. I didn't have any answers. At the time Terrance told me that, I had no idea what he was talking about, and I still didn't know now. Terry worked for the government, often getting stuck doing their dirty work, so he only ever gave me vague answers that never really told me anything. "What information?" I demanded now. "What do you want?"
The driver regarded me calculatingly. I took the opportunity to study his face. Thin stress lines framed his mouth and creased his eyes. This made it difficult to guess his age, but I would probably place it around twenty or thirty. Something about the man looked so familiar, though... Like I'd seen him somewhere before...
The driver's lips parted in a hesitant reply but before they could form a sound, a pair of dark gloves snaked around Thug #2's mouth. Surprise rendered us speechless as the man barely had time to widen his eyes before he was yanked sharply backwards, a sickening crack erupting through the air like lightning splitting a tree trunk. The body, having been dragged into the shadows, had disappeared.
Seconds passed and there was no sign of the attacker. By now, the first thug was swinging his head around so fast I thought his neck might snap too. He spun a 360, glancing around, panic dilating his pupils so much that his eyes appeared black. Suddenly, he, too, was ripped towards the darker part of the alley where his attacker could escape what thin beams the moonlight had to offer. Stumbling, but held up by some unseen force as the skin on his neck creased as if someone had grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, the thug disappeared into the wall's shadow. That's when a shape appeared from the dark. I let out a grateful whimper, praying it was Lila.
"Thank God you're here, I thought you'd never show!" I nervously ran my hands through my hair, waiting for Lila to step out of the shadows, but was confused when instead the rippling air took the shape of a man instead.
"Well," he smirked, knife pressed tightly against Thug #2's throat, "not showing is my specialty."
✩✩✩
That had been the night I'd first met the Invisible Hand. Frozen, I stared dazedly at the scene unfolding in front of me. Waving an irritated hand in front of my face, Dresden began snapping obnoxiously whilst simultaneously laying out a plan.
"Got it?"
"Mhmm," I mumbled, only half paying attention. Rolling his eyes, Elixir slipped into the shadows and I stumbled out into the dusty light of a streetlamp, waiting for one of the two stalkers to notice me.
The sun had just set and the deserted street was bathed in a dusky blue glow. Every couple of feet held a streetlight, much like the one I was under now. Green paint chipped off to reveal the rust below, but somehow these old streetlights were endearing. The streetlights were the one thing that never changed in a city that was always evolving, the one constant in my hectic life.
"Ey, Greg," one of the guys, tall and lanky with long blonde hair that he had to keep puffing out of his eyes, nudged the other one after finally noticing me. "Looks like we got two birds with one stone tonight," he nodded at me, a smirk plastered all over his dirty face.
Greg, a little shorter and chubbier with short, light curls and grandma glasses snorted and turned to face me.
"Hello sweetheart," Glasses mused.
I rolled my eyes and squared me shoulders, the way Elixir had taught me to do. Crossing my arms for emphasis, I ordered, "leave him alone."
"Who?" Blondie asked innocently.
I stole a glance at the boy cowering against the brick wall. He didn't look like he had much hope in me which wasn't a great confidence booster.
Following my gaze, Glasses and Blondie snorted with laughter. "Quinn? He's our brother."
"Doesn't look like it," I said skeptically. "Just leave him alone."
"Or what?" Glasses sneered.
"Yeah," Blondie backed him up, "or what?"
I glanced behind them to see that the kid – Quinn – was gone.
"Or..." I fumbled, struggling to stall.
"Looks like you're outta time, sweetheart," Glasses cooed.
"Yeah, you're outta time!" Blondie agreed enthusiastically.
"Shut up, Craig!"
"Yeah, shut up Crai– oh. Sorry Greg."
"OY!" Glasses screamed and, with a sinking heart, I realised that when he had turned to yell at his brother, the spot Quinn had previously been cowering in was in plain view.
"Where's Quinn?" Blondie – Craig – asked dumbly.
"You'll pay for this," Glasses growled as he took a menacing step forward. Calling on my inner Percy Jackson, I puffed up my chest and very bravely began to stall.
"Yeah?" I taunted, "and what are you gonna do?"
Blondie growled – actually growled – and started to back up his brother.
Clenching my fist a little tighter, I felt my fingers curl around the small sack Elixir had pressed into my palm just a few minutes earlier. True to his name, Elixir had a special knack for mixing potions, a skill he had honed and massively improved over the last few months after we learned the only other potion-maker in town, Dr Dynasty, had died. I had no idea what this particular potion was supposed to do, but hopefully it would be enough to convince them I had powers.
In the other hand, I held one of Elixir's other potions: a smoke bomb. I subtly released my fingers, letting it fall to the ground before squishing it with my feet. Smoke curled around my legs and up my body, shrouding me in a wall of mist, just thick enough that they couldn't see my hands.
To them, it would look like I was the one causing the smoke. Blondie shot his brother a nervous glance, but Glasses looked unfazed.
"Get her," he snarled.
Regaining his composure, Blondie lunged. I darted out of the way and saw my chance to throw Elixir's potion at him. My body blocking my arms from Glasses's view, I threw the sack as hard as I could just as Blondie turned back to face me. The sack exploded in his face, sending sparklers everywhere; it was like a mini fireworks display went off in front of him. He stumbled back, wailing and clawing desperately at his eyes.
"You– you do have powers," Glasses stammered.
"So you've seen those phoney broadcasts too," I sighed, pretending to sound bored as I examined my gloved fingers. "All those speculations that I'm just human. Newsflash," I grinned, "I'm called Shooting Star for a reason."
"There's a reason they call me the Invisible Hand..."
For a split second, I lost my composure as I drifted back to another time, a time when IH had been the snarky one and I had been the wide-eyed, innocent bystander.
Before Glasses could react, he crumpled to the ground. Behind him stood Elixir, equipped with a fire hydrant and behind Elixir was a trembling Quinn.
"You okay?" I started to ask, but was cut off with Quinn's terrified protest, "you shouldn't have done that!"
I frowned.
"You're welco–"
"Why not?" Elixir interrupted me.
"You've probably just made them angrier. Like in Blast Off how when you can't kill the Martian, it just gets angrier–"
"Blast Off?" I raised an eyebrow.
"It's a game... You haven't heard of it?" It was Quinn's turn to raise an eyebrow.
"Not really," I admitted.
"Oh..." He looked a little disappointed. Something flickered across Elixir's face – understanding? He was probably reading Quinn's thoughts.
"Those jerks are your brothers?" He asked after a minute.
"Step brothers," Quinn corrected.
"I see... Well Shooting Star has some experience with friends having to deal with evil siblings. Maybe she can give you some advice," Elixir suggested dismissively, turning on his heel as he did so.
"And just where do you think you're going?" I quipped.
Elixir raised his eyebrows, "off to fight more crime. I assumed you'd handle this one–"
"Well you assumed wrong!" I huffed.
"Guys, please don't fight," Quinn mumbled.
"We're not fighting!" Elixir and I both snapped.
But as we did so, something strange began to happen. Quinn's arms began to bristle with... spikes?
"You little runt–" a gruff voice rasped from behind me and I turned to see Blondie with his palms pressed into his eyes as he stumbled towards us.
Several things happened at once then.
With a yelp, Quinn raised his arms to shield himself from his brother's wrath. The spikes suddenly sprang from his arms until they were several inches longer, as they thinned out like pine needles.
In one swift move, Elixir tackled me to the ground right as the pine needles shot from Quinn's arms, embedding themselves all over Blondie's body.
The needles didn't appear to have gone very deep, but they sent Blondie reeling back, letting out a strangled cry.
Quinn shot us a desperate look before turning and sprinting off down the street, disappearing into the darkness of a broken streetlight.
I am ashamed....
I'M SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING FOR SO LONG.
A lot's been going on, if you couldn't tell from that dedication...
The other reason I haven't updated in so long: my boyfriend and I had two glorious weeks together before we officially started long distance (because university is a thing) and I wanted to spend every waking second with him so yes... can you forgive me?
Update on the long distance in case any of you were wondering:
Day 10 of missing my person: Life. Sucks. I keep breaking down at random moments. Literally EVERYTHING reminds me of him. I'm not even exaggerating.... I made a weird noise and nearly started crying because it reminded me of the "baby T-Rex" noises I always made with him. He left me a note in a Patrick Ness book he gave me and omg. Pain.
Advice from a wise person who has been through long distance for less than 240 hours:
If you really love your person and the options are doing long distance or breaking up... Do long distance.
The pain you feel from missing them will. not. compare. to losing them. I'm a mess now. I can't even fathom what it would be like without his "Proud of self. Only cried 4 times today... Make that 5 times..." snapchats or his constant texts about missing me.
If you love your person, do whatever it takes to keep them. BECAUSE THIS SHIT IS RARE.
Sorry for the long author's note.
Here is an oddly ovular potato: 0