* Please read chapter 3 from my story "Day Out Lights Out" before proceeding. *

It was just under a fortnight ago - Valentine's Day - that someone really showed me I had a chance to fit in somewhere. You may think it to be the usual "first kiss" date, the kind from movies & all, but in my case it's wonderfully double-sided. I'd officially become Hotstuff's girlfriend, & officially befriended someone I believed I could trust after ages of being deemed a dangerous freak. (& that 'someone' is probably the only other human on the planet who manipulates fire!)

Following that first date he's shown his feelings for me a few other times. The morning after Valentine's, I was under the wave of a cheek kiss the minute Dad & I entered the penthouse. He'd noticed no one else was around, for Dad rushed to the lab to join Reed, so he seized the golden moment. Next, we were in the garage one day & he shared more on his passion for mechanics. I remarked that he was pretty talented & deep in what he loved doing. My reward was a kiss on my temple - that one sent shivers through my body, for I truly felt the very warm, very alive weight of his lips.

I took him to have his favourite "thousand layer wind" dish once more about four days later; boy was I close to laughing uncontrollably. He loved the food so much he had mastered the chopsticks in one go, & popped piece by piece of the meat into his mouth at record speed. I told him he ate like a monster truck probably would, & we had our very first weird laughing session. My stomach ached from the chortling, & I had to lean on his cozy chest for support!

Maybe people think I'm simply cool, reserved, & keeping to my humility; after all, I may be the daughter of the CEO of L.Y. Weapons - the titan of my country's weapons manufacturers. No. What I do is feign most of this. What I am is guilt-ridden. Always a dark side to me. You can be forgiven for hurting your friends or teachers in the classroom, but you can't be forgotten. The newsflash here? I feel I have neither been forgiven nor forgotten.

I annoy myself with how 'emo' I can sound in explaining all this! But even today I wouldn't mind calling my powers a curse. Compared to the short time I've spent doing hero work as the Blue Dragon in New York city, I spent a long time misusing these powers - back home in Shanghai. Ruined many years of 'what could have been'.

I shudder at the thought of telling him what I've done. He may be a nosey parker & ask what frightens me most - to which my past would be the answer. You never know…Johnny's pretty unpredictable, & you don't know what his oceanic eyes are telling you sometimes. For a boyfriend so outwardly shallow, everything from his speech to his irises has a mysterious depth. Not bottomless, but like a chasm where you can't quite see the lowest point.

But really, I can't keep this in much longer; someone besides Dad is bound to explore my own deepest trenches of the heart. Johnny may well be the first. Though I admit I have yet to know him better, frankly. It's darkly hilarious how I cannot picture his response, should I tell him how (practically) I've almost murdered people with my temper & flames combined! I've seen kids my age leave the classroom in bandages, crutches & with stuff applied to their skin to help with the burns. Teachers, too. Memories of their faces are hard to shake off.

An eight-year-old exhibiting her cunning streak & going overboard during school hours…The other kids were of course scared to death throughout my little rampage, till the teachers would actually lock me in any room bordered by tough enough brickwork. They'd reproach, reprimand, rebuke from outside, while the student body laughed triumphantly in unison. Wasn't long before I lost count of the number of times this happened! After school, I'd take out the anger the bigger school bullies stirred in me on anything in my path. That is, if I was mad beyond description.

I've got a tarnished record, in short. Letting my past control my future is a bad thing; I know that. Yet I'm waiting for some sign, some exit…to bust me out of the mess I made that keeps lurking in my thoughts.

Once, I randomly opened one of the books on my Baxter Building bedroom shelf. Perhaps I gotta listen to these words on the page I had arrived at, "...there is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven."