"You don't understand..." Peter whispered from across the oaken table. "He killed Gordon Ramsay and I couldn't do anything to save him."
Mary Jane's perfectly green eyes swirled with uncertainty. Though she believed Peter's story, she hadn't heard anything about Gordon's death...and she had only just had tea with him last week! That was one of the perks of her rocketing model career; she met a lot of influential people. "Are you sure it wasn't an impersonator? There's a lot of them around here, especially this close to Halloween."
"Why does that matter?" Peter replied, almost appalled by her response. "The guy's dead and I couldn't stop it."
MJ sighed, heavily, and the sound whistled through her clenched teeth. "You're right, I'm sorry, I just-"
Suddenly, as if God himself (or herself) had changed the channel and cranked up the volume, the small television in the corner of the room drowned out the chatter within the cafe. It immediately grabbed their attention. A reporter stood inside the tiny box, a microphone grasped tightly in her hands.
"Yesterday afternoon renowned chef, restaurateur, and food critic, Gordon Ramsay, was shot in the head by what onlookers described as a 'dismembered hand'." The reporter relayed with a frown so tight that it had to be mostly fake. "Miraculously, the Johnstone-born personality survived with little to no serious injuries."
Peter let out an almighty exhale. It was so loud, in fact, that it almost sounded like a large gust of wind. He slumped in his seat, stretched his legs out until they were taking up most of Mary Jane's foot-space, then mumbled to himself. "Thank God..."
The red-head's lips twitched into a frown. "Am I the only one that thought that was a little too coincidental? I mean, that television wasn't even on the news channel the last time I checked...and how many people survive a bullet to the head?"
"I don't care. I'm just happy he's alive." Peter shrugged dismissively. "You're starting to sound like that weirdo Deadpool. He thinks we're all in some story, at the mercy of an all-powerful narrator. I mean, how insane is that?"
A laugh erupted from Peter's throat and it echoed through the cafe like a failing engine. Mary Jane, on the other hand, only gave one small chuckle. Deadpool didn't sound so crazy to her.
"Has your order been taken yet, Pete?" A familiar voice jolted through Peter's nervous system, throwing him out of his comfortable position and forcing him to sit up so straight that he looked like someone had stuck a pole in his back.
"Hey, Belle, I didn't know you were working today." Mary Jane spoke, ultimately saving Peter from stumbling over his words and embarrassing himself for the hundredth time in front of his crush.
"I'm filling in for someone." Annabelle responded, and Peter finally dared to glance over at her. Today, she was wearing a dress with shoulder pads so broad that it would make any 80s mom jealous. Her hair was almost left loose, except for the fringe that had been pinned back with a comically large bow. "Actually, I'm glad you're here. I've been meaning to speak to you."
Peter's eyes widened in a silent panic and his mind flooded with possibilities. Was she still mad about the whole thing with Aunt May? Did he have something on his face? In his teeth? Had he offended her with his weird staring?...even worse, had she noticed his weird staring?
"I got free tickets to the ARGENT Defence Hardware Presentation. I don't really know much about it, so I thought maybe you two would enjoy it a little more than I would." Annabelle rummaged into her pocket and took out two crumpled tickets. It made Peter wonder why she had been carrying them around...and what other junk she kept in her pockets.
Peter's heart leapt through his ribcage. ARGENT was Tony Stark's biggest competitor in the world of technological innovation. In this presentation they were, apparently, going to be showing their more military-geared products to the press, public, and backers... Peter knew this because he'd wanted to go, but he couldn't afford the ticket. "A-Are you serious?"
Annabelle nodded. "I wouldn't understand if I went anyway."
Mary Jane's eyes sparked mischievously. She could see the excitement on Peter's face, manifesting itself in a grin that temporarily hid his awkward demeanour. She had never enjoyed attending all that 'nerdy' stuff with him, and now he had a viable excuse to reject the offer. "Actually... I think Peter might prefer to go with you."
A hush fell over the table. Then, Peter gave the biggest gasp known to existence. Seriously. Bigger than the worldwide gasp when The Red Wedding on Game of Thrones aired.
"Really?" Annabelle's lips quirked into the tiniest little smile. It was the cutest thing Peter had ever seen...but he was so mortified by MJ's sudden outburst that he couldn't enjoy it.
"Yeah he talks about you all the time, you know." MJ continued without a shred of hesitation. "Says he wishes you two could spend more time together."
"Wh-What are you doing?" Peter whispered harshly. His cheeks were so red that they could put the surface of Mars to shame, but Mary Jane simply winked at him as if this wasn't the most humiliating moment of his life.
Annabelle giggled...or was that an angel sighing? No. That was ridiculous. Mary Jane's laugh was more like an angel. Annabelle's was something else. Something more earth-bound; the chorus of a Queen song or the sound of his favourite food being cooked. "That's...so sweet. I guess I can find the time then, if that's what Pete wants."
She glanced to the anxiety-riddled man, who could do nothing but bumble over his words. He was trying to speak, really he was, but it sounded like his tongue had suddenly swelled inside of his mouth. Then, Mary Jane kicked him from beneath the table with her bright red stiletto. He didn't really feel it, but it was certainly enough to jolt some sense back into him. "Y-Yeah! Sounds g-g-good."
"Great! Then are you guys ready to order?"
The simple answer was no. Peter was not ready to order. He could barely string two words together at the moment, let alone try and order the five dollar nuggets (that just happened to be on the kids menu).
Thankfully, Mary Jane spoke for him...just like she always did when she saw him struggling. "I'll have a ceasar salad and he'll have the wedges."
"Sour cream and sweet chilli on the side?"
"Yes, hon." MJ confirmed, trying not to chuckle at Peter's persistent glare. "Thank you."
Annabelle finished scribbling the order onto her notepad (decorating it with a few hearts), then hurried it back to the kitchen. Peter finally took a big gulp of air and muttered "Are you crazy?! Why did you do that?"
Mary Jane only smiled and winked teasingly at him. "I got your back, Tiger."
Peter wanted to be mad, but how could he? His own personal wingwoman had just secured him an outing with Annabelle Lee... Peter had almost allowed himself to feel elated by this news, happy even, and that was his own mistake. Nothing positive ever lasted in his life.
Think he's just being dramatic? Well, you'd be wrong. Peter was absolutely correct in the observation that his life erased any good experience with an equally negative one. That was only confirmed when the large window to the cafe was shattered, sending any nearby customers to the ground; including Peter and Mary Jane.
Murmurs and cries of shock filled the cafe, only amplifying as a figure loomed into view. He was green. That's all that Peter could observe through the panic, and he was riding a glider. It had sharp angles and was painted light purple. Then Pete finally saw it. The mask that haunted his nightmares...
"Is that...the Green Goblin?" Mary Jane yelled to Peter over the uproar of screams. "How is he alive?!"
Peter's heart froze solid in his chest. The memory of the original Green Goblin, Norman Osborn, impaling himself with a similar glider to the one this villain was riding still echoed in his mind. He was dead. Peter knew that for certain...so how was he there? "I don't know, just stay behind me."
The phantom didn't bother with anyone else in that cafe. He went straight for Peter...as if he had specifically targeted him. Peter pushed Mary Jane further behind his back, protectively, whilst also managing to look as intimidated as any normal person would have been when faced with a ghost.
"Peter Parker." The demon spoke, and he suddenly felt like he might vomit. "Where's Spider-Man?"
"Wh-What makes you think that I know where he is?" Peter stuttered back, lowly, and with an obvious crack of fear in his voice.
The Green Goblin didn't want to indulge in Peter's little game. Without another word, he reached out and wrapped his hand around Peter's neck. The grip was so tight that he could immediately feel the bruises rising on his skin, but oddly enough, not tight enough to cut off any possibility of oxygen.
Mary Jane gasped somewhere in the background. She muttered his name...but didn't dare move. She had seen him in situations like this for years now, and found that getting involved always made it worse.
"Don't play dumb with me." The Green Goblin hissed. His voice was modulated, so Peter couldn't tell whether it was really Norman back from the grave, or just a cheap copy.
The gentle clink of two plates knocking together permeated the air, completely dragging the green devil's eyes away from Peter...and towards Annabelle Lee. She was walking in with a bowl of spaghetti and a plate of fresh herb bread.
She paused and assessed the scene in front of her, then, her lips curled awkwardly. She stepped backwards, slowly at first, then a little faster as she tried to discreetly escape the dire situation.
Like a predator spotting it's prey, the Green Goblin released Peter from his grasp and lurched towards the waitress. "Well, you'd better find that little spider friend of yours, or this poor girl's going to suffer the consequences."
Without hesitation, he grasped her by the collar and nearly choked her. Still, she kept those plates steady in her hands. "W-Wait! At least let me put the food down first! People paid good money for this stuff!"
The Green Goblin snarled at her ridiculous request and pulled her into the glider with such force that the plates slipped from her hands. Annabelle gave a sharp inhale of horror, before turning to the elderly couple whose food was now splattered across the floor. "Oh, I'm so sorry! Don't worry, I'll get you a refund!"
The villain knocked her across the head, probably in an attempt to shut the quirky girl up, then shoved her over his shoulder. The Green Goblin's glider hummed as he sped back towards the broken window. "Tell Spider-Man to meet me at the Chrysler Building at ten o'clock tomorrow night. If not, I'll throw her from the top and see if her death grabs his attention."
He was gone before Peter had a chance to react...his heart tore from its icy shell, only to beat so hard against his ribcage that he thought it might break them. His face was ashen. His eyes were wide. His breath didn't exist. At least, he couldn't feel himself breathing. Maybe he was, but his lungs burned like they had been robbed of oxygen for almost an hour. He didn't know for sure because he couldn't focus anything but the fading figure of a dead man, and the girl that had revitalised his life.
Peter was trembling. He had wanted to stop this, but he was right in the centre. Everyone would have noticed if he snuck away to change into his Spider-Man get-up, and if he'd tried to fight Green Goblin in his civilian clothes then his aunt and MJ would have been in danger as well. Now that the criminal was out of sight, he couldn't even follow him. He'd have to play it by the Green Goblin's rules and meet him tomorrow night...but one thing was for certain, that villain wasn't Norman Osborn. Why? Because Norman had known Peter's secret identity, and this reiteration of the Goblin obviously didn't.
"She seemed a little calm for a first-time kidnapping victim..." Mary Jane suddenly muttered from beside him. "I know from personal experience that she should have been a little more shaken up-"
Peter flashed her an irritated look and Mary Jane quickly trailed off the subject.
"Sorry...everyone reacts differently. Now's not the time." MJ apologised sincerely, but that thought didn't leave her. There was something weird going on. Annabelle was certainly a strange girl, but she had just been threatened by a known murderer...and hadn't reacted to it at all; as if she wasn't even remotely scared of him. For any normal person, that was just a little too unusual.
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