Popstar Comics

Author's Note: A new story for a new year. And with a new year comes many changes.

Prologue

The past is in the past, or at least that's what they say. You're not supposed to go chasing after it like some desperate love struck teenager. I hate the way he says it to me though, telling me to grow up, to take some responsibility. I'm making money so what does it matter? Oh, but that's not real work he says. It's not a real job, says the angel who rides a bike to work every day.

Whether he wants to admit it or not, I'm a professional in my field. You could say that I'm an asset to the company. I'm so good that even the grinning head honcho himself comes down from his throne just to give me a pat on the back every once in a while. "Keep up the good work, Kuro." It may not seem like much, but it feels good to hear that someone appreciates me. I never got so much as a "hello" all through high school. Even the damn teachers were scared of me. To most people, I was just "Dark," that misfit angel boy who hates to talk. Out here though, out here on the streets, I feel alive. Kuro is what they call me, and honestly I always thought it sounded much cooler than "Dark." Dark is just… stupid.

"It is rather redundant," my boss would say. "It is like referring to the sea as water, or to the wind as air. A daredevil like you deserves something much more befitting, something that fades with the night, and possibly has a nice ring to it."

And thus Kuro was born, and oh how I love it so! It represents the bond that I share with my awesome friends, my family. It's a reminder that no matter what I do, I will always be connected to someone out there who likes me for who I am. Not like Pit-stain who thinks that my constantly going out at night is "bad for my health." He worries way too much sometimes, but not once have I ever told him about my second name. He'd think it was some kind of gang sign, like the triangle tattoos all the Gerudos wear. I never told him about that either, and hopefully he'll never see it so long as I keep a shirt on my back.

One day, Pit approached me with a job offer, but it wasn't just some mailroom junky spot at Paratroopa Post this time. He had in his hand an envelope with a star stamp smudged in the corner of it. Apparently there was a new comic book store opening in town, and it was also in reasonable walking distance from our place, which more or less meant that if I got the job, there wouldn't be any excuse for me to play hooky.

"The pay is minimum wage, but that's better than nothing right?" he asks me, almost in desperation. He was smiling on the outside, but deep down I could tell that his hope was dangling by a thread. He was practically shaking as he handed me the note. "Dark?"

I didn't say a word as I skimmed the details. Not only was I being paid dirt, I was also expected to work different shifts throughout the week, some days early in the morning while other days late at night. I also had to show up on time, make sure I was meeting the dress code, and most importantly at least know a thing or two about comic books.

Comic books. What a waste of time.

"Forget it." I tossed the letter on the floor before making my way to the door. "I'm not that desperate for a job." Little did he know that I already had a job.

He stops me as I leave, blocking the exit with his body. His smile has somewhat melted, his lips quivering as he grasps me by the arms.

"Please Dark, don't do this to me again," he pleads. "I'm just trying to help."

"I don't need your help," I reply flatly. "I'm doing fine on my own."

"Doing what? Staying out late at night to cause trouble downtown? Every time I come home you're either gone or you're sleeping in till three in the afternoon! You can't keep doing this to me…"

I notice his shoulders droop, followed by his head, and then the next thing I know that whiny baby has his arms wrapped around my wings. I resist only for a moment, feeling warm tears trickle down my skin.

"I love you, Dark," he says. "Don't go down there anymore. I want you to be safe. I want you to be happy."

I stood there with his hair in my face, wishing that he could just understand. I'm not a good guy. I'm not just someone who can go through fifteen years of mindless education, be brought up in some mechanical corporation, and then finally set off on my own where I can just exist for the rest of my life. Going out at night, going downtown, that's where I felt free. It's where I could express myself, where I could work hard and see the fruits of my accomplishments bloom in an instant.

It's where I fit in.

He was crying now, his sobs reminding me of something that I had seen in those cheesy drama shows we used to watch when we were kids. He wasn't trying to be a mother to me this time though. This time, he was really upset, and I couldn't determine what I was feeling at the moment, nor could I find the word to describe the tugging pain in my heart. I guess you could call it… sympathy?

"I pray," he says. "Every night I pray to our goddess for you. Do you care?" He looks up at me, his fingers clawing my shirt as his big eyes welled with frustration. "Do you?"

I look at him and I don't know what to say. Of course I care; he's my brother after all. If anything were to happen to him… I'd probably be really pissed off. In this world, he was the only family I had, or the only one related by blood anyway. Even though it usually amused me whenever mister goody-two-shoes grovelled like this, this time I wasn't feeling anything. I was just absent, as if I had left the answering machine to do all the talking for me.

"Please. Say something."

It was here where I was left with one of two choices, and there was a good chance that making the wrong choice would end up with one of us moving out permanently. On the other hand, doing what he says would not only make him happy, but also shut him up. The question is, would I be able to live with the thought that this one proposal could possibly change my life forever?

Lucky for him I was always the risk-taker in the family.

"You're hopeless," I finally say with a sigh. "Alright Pit, you win. I'll apply for the stupid job if it makes you happy." He continues to stare at me; honestly I think he was expecting that response just as much as I was. "But so help me if it turns out to be pointless then that's the last time I ever do anything for you. Got it?"

He let go of me, but he didn't look very pleased at all. His face was still stained with glossy tears though, much like the crybaby I remember growing up with.

"You're not doing it for me," he says. "You're doing it for yourself."

As I've done before and will continue to do till the day I die. I didn't expect to be hanging around that comic book store for more than a week, what with the nerds and whatever else earthly scum frequented those types of places. My plan was to try it, get sick of it, and just tell him straight that no regular job will ever be good enough for me. Besides, I'd be throwing away all the great friends I've already made, not to mention my reputation as one of the most dangerous punks to mess with in town. And if those guys ever saw me working at a comic book store? Heck, I'd never be able to live it down.

When I told the boss man about this, he seemed pleasantly surprised. His normally wide grin seemed to grow with every detail I mentioned about this new job. And as I stood there in the rain, atop New Smashopolis' Goldenrod Bridge, the Grinning Man continued to stare as if he were waiting for my masterful final punchline. Through the mist surrounding his umbrella, he appeared as ominous as a spirit, his silhouette just a mound of trench coat.

"You are serious then," he says. "You are leaving us."

"Not for long," I reply. "I'm just doing it to keep my brother off my back. Just gimme about a week or two."

He's not amused, but then again he hardly ever was. If he wasn't grinning, he was usually scowling, but that's a face that no one wants to see. Believe me.

"This could be rather interesting then." The Grinning Man ponders for a few seconds. "With you taking a leave of absence, perhaps the others may grow to miss your company. I will not speak for myself, Kuro, but I know for a fact that there are several folks around who wish to spend more time with you."

"And they'll get their chance." I know whom he refers to, and honestly they're not the worst bunch of misfits in the world. "I just need some time off is all. I just hope things don't get too… boring while I'm away."

"There is never a dull day in this business." He laughs, and I'm starting to feel my wings freeze up from the water droplets. I really should have thought about bringing a jacket. "It has been a pleasure working with you, and I do believe you deserve some much-needed vacation time. So go. Go and do what you wish to your heart's content. Just make sure not to forget about us by the time you finish."

He says that as a hard reminder, almost as if he's expecting me to forget. How could I though? They're the best thing that's ever happened to me since we started living in this hellhole of a city. To go back on my word would be backstabbing a family that practically raised me in these slums.

"I promise," I say. "Thanks a lot."

"Fly now, Kuro," he says with a raised hand. "Fly to your temporary perch, and be sure to enjoy the view while it lasts. After all, that is what life is all about."

I hastily take my leave to finally get out of this stupid rain. I didn't see the Grinning Man for another four months after that.

And so, as the old saying warns, I didn't go chasing after my past. I left it right where I found it, and I planned on returning to it again once I was done taking out the trash. Although I didn't get a chance to say my good-byes, I knew that everybody would be waiting for my arrival, yearning for the day when Kuro would take to the streets once more and cause trouble like he did in the golden age of crime. It was the end of an era, all in the wake of something new to sprout.

Little did I realize at the time that no matter how far the past may linger, it never truly disappears. No one ever said anything about the past coming to chase me.