Might be typo's. I'm bad with them.
***
When he walked through the front door of the apartment he half expected to see Lex on the couch. Phone in hand, the TV on far too loud, maybe a bottle of wine or whiskey sitting on the table. There was no noise at all waiting for him as he walked inside. The silence that the room held was like a slap in the face.
No one is here Clark.
You're all by yourself again.
He doesn't think he liked how quiet it was. Lex always had something going on when he was here. Something that made noise. Something that caused action. The rare times father was home, he was always on the phone or watching some business show on TV. When mother was alive, she would sing and play music. None of it will happen again.
Lex was gone.
Father was gone.
Mother was dead.
No.
He doesn't like the quiet at all.
***
He ordered pizza for dinner. Father never allowed pizza in the house because he was afraid someone would spill sauce or cheese on all his expensive upholstery. Clark usually followed all of father's little rules. Mostly because Lex broke them enough on his own. He licked a drop of sauce the dribbled down the side of his hand. He figured that, just this once, what father didn't know wouldn't hurt him. He'd make sure to throw the box out in the dumpster in the morning.
When it got dark, and when the pizza was all gone, he wandered up to the roof and watched the city light up. He looked across the street to the other high rises and felt the urge to try and make it across. He pushed it away. He was still sore from yesterday and didn't feel like taking any chances. The wind kicked up a little bit and sent his hair awhirl. He sat and hung his feet over the edge, leaning back on his palms and tilting his head skyward he breathed in the fresh night air.
The moon shone brightly from its perch in the gentle black blanket of the night sky. He thought it beautiful and daydreamed about flying there one day. He let his mind wander. Thoughts coming and going in no particular order, and forgotten as easily as they were formed. Eventually his mind fell back to his dream. About the girl, or he should say, woman. He remembered her looking too old to be called a girl.
The name "Lois Lane" sounded so familiar.
Maybe he'd seen it somewhere before. It could have been the name of one of father's maybe associates. It could be a company employee. It could have been anyone for all he knew. But his father's company seemed like a good place to start. He made a mental note to look it up when he went back inside.
For now he just wanted to enjoy the view.
***
It was so bitterly quiet in the house he could hear the clicking of his keyboard echo across the walls. His eyes roamed the last names of nearly half a million LuthorCorp employees. Fifty-seven Lane's in all. Not one of them a Lois. He searched all the Lane's family records. No children or siblings named Lois. Nothing. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He'd spent nearly half an hour purging LuthorCorp's firewalls, and another forty-five minutes looking through the entire list of Lane's. Breaking into the company's systems had been trickier than he thought it would, father liked to keep his information secure, but he'd gotten though it. Father didn't know how good his son was with computers.
A life of near solitude would make anyone yearn for a hobby.
It was probably the only skill he possessed that father would approve of.
He remembered having to ask father for his first computer with a strategically placed note on his desk. The next day when he came home from school, there it was all shiny and new waiting for him. Lex was jealous of course. Called Clark a kiss up and a daddy's boy. Lex always expected things from father. He never thought to ask. Incidentally, the next day there was a computer waiting for Lex. Father didn't like to see his boys fighting.
After getting a soda and giving up on his initial search for a Lois Lane in the company database, he scrolled down the names of other employees looking for anyone he might recognize. It was kind of strange to see how many people depended on father. He knew every person on this list did. For food, for healthcare, for homes. He didn't think anyone deserved that kind of power. Not even father.
He was down to the S's before he finally saw a name that piqued his interest.
*Sullivan, Gabriel R.*
He'd never met anyone named Gabriel before. He thought it was an interesting name. He remembered some movie where Christopher Walken played a character named that, but not much else. He clicked on his name and read the file. Gabriel Sullivan had been hired right out of college and had worked for LuthorCorp for nearly eighteen years. He was promoted to plant manager at the facility in Smallville a year ago.
*Employee: Sullivan, Gabriel R.
D.O.B. 3-27-65
Residence: 8546 Causey Way Smallville, KS
Job Title: Manager, LuthorCorp Fertilizer Facility #3, Smallville KS
Education: BA in Chemistry, Metropolis University
Marital Status: Widow
Employee No. 968-365-1145
Misc. Info:
Wife: Lane-Sullivan, Anna L. (deceased)
Offspring: Lane-Sullivan, Chloe L.
D.O.B. 5-25-85
Residence: Eden Hall Dormitory, Winchester Preparatory School 20017 Hopkins Blvd. Metropolis, KS*
Clark stared for the longest time and Gabriel Sullivan's daughter's name. She was a Lane, or a half Lane, as the hyphen in her name indicated. She went to the same school as he did. The "L" of her middle name.
Lois?
It would have been too much of a coincidence if Lois was what the L stood for.
He left the high tech puzzle box of LuthorCorp's computer systems, for Winchester Prep's easier to break into student file server. In a matter of seconds he found and pulled up Chloe L. Lane-Sullivan's file.
*Lane-Sullivan, Chloe L.
Guardians: Sullivan, Gabriel R. Lane-Sullivan, Anna L. (deceased)
Grade: Sophomore, uTranscriptsu
Tuition: Paid Annually
Board: Eden Hall
Extracurricular Activities: Excelsior (editor), Debate Team (co-captain), Literary Society
Notes: "Chloe is an exceptional student, whose self appointed high standards are always met with skill and precision. She has demonstrated a journalistic instinct far beyond her years."
-John Steadham, Teacher. Adv English Lit. Excelsior Faculty advisor.*
Clark could already feel the gears in his head begin to turn. He had to talk to her. What he would say, he had no idea.
The phone rang, pulling him from his train of thought. Father, double checking that Lex wasn't there. Clark said he wasn't. Father said "good" and hung up.
***
He got to school an hour earlier than usual. It felt strange to him to be roaming through the hallways alone. No sea of blue blazers. No mesh of matching khaki pants and skirts. He could actually see that tile on the floor was beige. A small detail he'd never noticed. He wandered the halls for awhile, enjoying the peaceful tranquility. The sounds of his footsteps echoed across the hall. The silence here was different. Not like at home. Not where there was any choice but silence. When it was forced and mocking. This was different. He liked the difference.
Slowly but surely he made his way toward the Excelsior's office. When he entered the moderately sized room on the school's second floor, something unexplainable made a twinge inside him. It felt good here. Really good. He thought he might have been here once before. Probably on one of those tours they gave all the freshman when they first enroll. He ran a hand along the desks, across the tops of computer monitors, soaking it all in. He hardly ever read the school paper. He wasn't really interested in school policies or politics. And that's all it really covered. Lunch menu's, teacher interviews, academic and sports awards. Things he could care less about.
"Can I help you?" A voiced asked from behind.
He chided himself for getting so wrapped up in thought. He didn't like it when someone snuck up on him. It was a rare occasion anyone ever did. He turned around and found himself looking down and a petite blonde girl. She wore the standard Winchester uniform, though her sweater wasn't on at the moment. For some reason he thought it didn't look as bland on her. She looked back at him curiously. The staring contest felt a little lopsided to him. He had at least a foot in height on her.
"Can I help you?" She repeated.
He opened his mouth to speak, but the words seemed to trip over his tongue and what came out was a stuttering mess of vowels. Her eyebrows arched as she took a cautious step back.
I'm sorry, he said, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. I'm looking for Chloe Lane-Sullivan.
"Well that's convenient," she chuckled. "You're looking right at her."
He blinked. This was her? He was expecting someone taller. Someone more serious looking. Someone with dark hair like the dream... If he wanted to be mean, she could have been described as some mall rat looking girl. This couldn't have been the woman.
You're Chloe?
"Last time I checked," she replied. "Did you want to make an announcement in the paper? Something about the basketball team?"
Basketball team?
"You're on the team aren't you?"
No.
"Oh. I'm sorry. You look like it. What with the height and all."
He didn't know how to respond to that, so he didn't.
"Okay then," she said breaking the awkward silence that had formed. "You're here because?"
I want to join the paper.
"What?"
'What?' Was right. He didn't know what had caused him to say that. As far as he knew he'd never had any real interest in journalism. He didn't have real writing experience either. The most he'd ever written were book reports and essays. Not exactly the best talent builders. All he knew was how he liked how it felt in this room. Chloe was staring at him like he'd magically sprouted horns on his forehead. His tongue was tied on how the follow up his statement.
"It's a little late in the semester don't you think?" She said.
Oh. Yeah, I guess.
"Please don't tell me you write as well as you speak."
Uh...
"Have you ever written for a paper before?"
Not really.
"What made you think you could just waltz in here and start being a reporter? Are you really on the basketball team? Is this some kind of bet? Journalism is a serious business buddy. It's not fun and games. You have a responsibility to report the truth to the public."
Oh, okay. I understand. Sorry to have bothered you. I'll go.
He moved to toward the door when he heard her sigh heavily and mutter something about pity and being crazy.
"Wait," she called. "I didn't say no. What English class are you in?"
Um, advanced English Lit.
"John, er, Mr. Steadham's class?"
Yeah.
"Well that's certainly a plus," she said. "Now I know you understand grammar in its purest form."
Mostly.
"I don't even know why I'm considering this," she said shaking her head. "Maybe you just have an honest face or something. That's good. You can use that. If you want a shot at the paper give me two hundred words on Stacy Willis."
Who?
"The girl who tried to kill herself yesterday. Tell me you heard about that."
I did. I just didn't know her name.
"Good. Have it in by three o'clock."
But I thought you're already running a story about her. I saw the headline mock up on the desk over there.
"Yeah. I wrote it. But, I want to see what you can say about it. If it's anywhere near as good as mine. I'll run it and you'll be on the paper. Deadline three o'clock. If it have to tell you what that means, don't even bother writing."
I know what it means.
"Good."
I'll see you at three then, he said moving toward the door.
"Hey wait!" She called after him. "Aren't you going to tell me your name?"
Clark.
"Got a last name Clark?"
Luthor.
"Luth... Oh." Her eyes grew wide with recognition.
Three o'clock, he said. See you then.
"This isn't some kind of big joke is it?"
He stopped dead and turned to face her.
Why would you think that?
"I-I'm sorry," she apologized. "It's just that well..."
The name, he said. I get it.
"I'm really sorry," she said again. "Please don't fire my dad."
Hey, I understand. Believe me I do. But believe me when I say I'm not my father or my brother.
"Okay," she said softly.
He stood watching her fidget nervously. It disgusted him how the simple mention of his name could make someone feel that way. He moved closer to her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. It was the second thing he'd done that morning without knowing why. She smiled faintly as she looked up at him, her eyes...
Those eyes.
He knew those eyes.
Chloe?
"Yeah?"
You're middle name wouldn't be Lois would it?
"Well yeah," she said, blushing slightly. "But how did you..."
Her eyes. He felt like he could lose himself in them. Like he could tell her everything.
Nothing, he said. Just wondering.
***
When he walked through the front door of the apartment he half expected to see Lex on the couch. Phone in hand, the TV on far too loud, maybe a bottle of wine or whiskey sitting on the table. There was no noise at all waiting for him as he walked inside. The silence that the room held was like a slap in the face.
No one is here Clark.
You're all by yourself again.
He doesn't think he liked how quiet it was. Lex always had something going on when he was here. Something that made noise. Something that caused action. The rare times father was home, he was always on the phone or watching some business show on TV. When mother was alive, she would sing and play music. None of it will happen again.
Lex was gone.
Father was gone.
Mother was dead.
No.
He doesn't like the quiet at all.
***
He ordered pizza for dinner. Father never allowed pizza in the house because he was afraid someone would spill sauce or cheese on all his expensive upholstery. Clark usually followed all of father's little rules. Mostly because Lex broke them enough on his own. He licked a drop of sauce the dribbled down the side of his hand. He figured that, just this once, what father didn't know wouldn't hurt him. He'd make sure to throw the box out in the dumpster in the morning.
When it got dark, and when the pizza was all gone, he wandered up to the roof and watched the city light up. He looked across the street to the other high rises and felt the urge to try and make it across. He pushed it away. He was still sore from yesterday and didn't feel like taking any chances. The wind kicked up a little bit and sent his hair awhirl. He sat and hung his feet over the edge, leaning back on his palms and tilting his head skyward he breathed in the fresh night air.
The moon shone brightly from its perch in the gentle black blanket of the night sky. He thought it beautiful and daydreamed about flying there one day. He let his mind wander. Thoughts coming and going in no particular order, and forgotten as easily as they were formed. Eventually his mind fell back to his dream. About the girl, or he should say, woman. He remembered her looking too old to be called a girl.
The name "Lois Lane" sounded so familiar.
Maybe he'd seen it somewhere before. It could have been the name of one of father's maybe associates. It could be a company employee. It could have been anyone for all he knew. But his father's company seemed like a good place to start. He made a mental note to look it up when he went back inside.
For now he just wanted to enjoy the view.
***
It was so bitterly quiet in the house he could hear the clicking of his keyboard echo across the walls. His eyes roamed the last names of nearly half a million LuthorCorp employees. Fifty-seven Lane's in all. Not one of them a Lois. He searched all the Lane's family records. No children or siblings named Lois. Nothing. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He'd spent nearly half an hour purging LuthorCorp's firewalls, and another forty-five minutes looking through the entire list of Lane's. Breaking into the company's systems had been trickier than he thought it would, father liked to keep his information secure, but he'd gotten though it. Father didn't know how good his son was with computers.
A life of near solitude would make anyone yearn for a hobby.
It was probably the only skill he possessed that father would approve of.
He remembered having to ask father for his first computer with a strategically placed note on his desk. The next day when he came home from school, there it was all shiny and new waiting for him. Lex was jealous of course. Called Clark a kiss up and a daddy's boy. Lex always expected things from father. He never thought to ask. Incidentally, the next day there was a computer waiting for Lex. Father didn't like to see his boys fighting.
After getting a soda and giving up on his initial search for a Lois Lane in the company database, he scrolled down the names of other employees looking for anyone he might recognize. It was kind of strange to see how many people depended on father. He knew every person on this list did. For food, for healthcare, for homes. He didn't think anyone deserved that kind of power. Not even father.
He was down to the S's before he finally saw a name that piqued his interest.
*Sullivan, Gabriel R.*
He'd never met anyone named Gabriel before. He thought it was an interesting name. He remembered some movie where Christopher Walken played a character named that, but not much else. He clicked on his name and read the file. Gabriel Sullivan had been hired right out of college and had worked for LuthorCorp for nearly eighteen years. He was promoted to plant manager at the facility in Smallville a year ago.
*Employee: Sullivan, Gabriel R.
D.O.B. 3-27-65
Residence: 8546 Causey Way Smallville, KS
Job Title: Manager, LuthorCorp Fertilizer Facility #3, Smallville KS
Education: BA in Chemistry, Metropolis University
Marital Status: Widow
Employee No. 968-365-1145
Misc. Info:
Wife: Lane-Sullivan, Anna L. (deceased)
Offspring: Lane-Sullivan, Chloe L.
D.O.B. 5-25-85
Residence: Eden Hall Dormitory, Winchester Preparatory School 20017 Hopkins Blvd. Metropolis, KS*
Clark stared for the longest time and Gabriel Sullivan's daughter's name. She was a Lane, or a half Lane, as the hyphen in her name indicated. She went to the same school as he did. The "L" of her middle name.
Lois?
It would have been too much of a coincidence if Lois was what the L stood for.
He left the high tech puzzle box of LuthorCorp's computer systems, for Winchester Prep's easier to break into student file server. In a matter of seconds he found and pulled up Chloe L. Lane-Sullivan's file.
*Lane-Sullivan, Chloe L.
Guardians: Sullivan, Gabriel R. Lane-Sullivan, Anna L. (deceased)
Grade: Sophomore, uTranscriptsu
Tuition: Paid Annually
Board: Eden Hall
Extracurricular Activities: Excelsior (editor), Debate Team (co-captain), Literary Society
Notes: "Chloe is an exceptional student, whose self appointed high standards are always met with skill and precision. She has demonstrated a journalistic instinct far beyond her years."
-John Steadham, Teacher. Adv English Lit. Excelsior Faculty advisor.*
Clark could already feel the gears in his head begin to turn. He had to talk to her. What he would say, he had no idea.
The phone rang, pulling him from his train of thought. Father, double checking that Lex wasn't there. Clark said he wasn't. Father said "good" and hung up.
***
He got to school an hour earlier than usual. It felt strange to him to be roaming through the hallways alone. No sea of blue blazers. No mesh of matching khaki pants and skirts. He could actually see that tile on the floor was beige. A small detail he'd never noticed. He wandered the halls for awhile, enjoying the peaceful tranquility. The sounds of his footsteps echoed across the hall. The silence here was different. Not like at home. Not where there was any choice but silence. When it was forced and mocking. This was different. He liked the difference.
Slowly but surely he made his way toward the Excelsior's office. When he entered the moderately sized room on the school's second floor, something unexplainable made a twinge inside him. It felt good here. Really good. He thought he might have been here once before. Probably on one of those tours they gave all the freshman when they first enroll. He ran a hand along the desks, across the tops of computer monitors, soaking it all in. He hardly ever read the school paper. He wasn't really interested in school policies or politics. And that's all it really covered. Lunch menu's, teacher interviews, academic and sports awards. Things he could care less about.
"Can I help you?" A voiced asked from behind.
He chided himself for getting so wrapped up in thought. He didn't like it when someone snuck up on him. It was a rare occasion anyone ever did. He turned around and found himself looking down and a petite blonde girl. She wore the standard Winchester uniform, though her sweater wasn't on at the moment. For some reason he thought it didn't look as bland on her. She looked back at him curiously. The staring contest felt a little lopsided to him. He had at least a foot in height on her.
"Can I help you?" She repeated.
He opened his mouth to speak, but the words seemed to trip over his tongue and what came out was a stuttering mess of vowels. Her eyebrows arched as she took a cautious step back.
I'm sorry, he said, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. I'm looking for Chloe Lane-Sullivan.
"Well that's convenient," she chuckled. "You're looking right at her."
He blinked. This was her? He was expecting someone taller. Someone more serious looking. Someone with dark hair like the dream... If he wanted to be mean, she could have been described as some mall rat looking girl. This couldn't have been the woman.
You're Chloe?
"Last time I checked," she replied. "Did you want to make an announcement in the paper? Something about the basketball team?"
Basketball team?
"You're on the team aren't you?"
No.
"Oh. I'm sorry. You look like it. What with the height and all."
He didn't know how to respond to that, so he didn't.
"Okay then," she said breaking the awkward silence that had formed. "You're here because?"
I want to join the paper.
"What?"
'What?' Was right. He didn't know what had caused him to say that. As far as he knew he'd never had any real interest in journalism. He didn't have real writing experience either. The most he'd ever written were book reports and essays. Not exactly the best talent builders. All he knew was how he liked how it felt in this room. Chloe was staring at him like he'd magically sprouted horns on his forehead. His tongue was tied on how the follow up his statement.
"It's a little late in the semester don't you think?" She said.
Oh. Yeah, I guess.
"Please don't tell me you write as well as you speak."
Uh...
"Have you ever written for a paper before?"
Not really.
"What made you think you could just waltz in here and start being a reporter? Are you really on the basketball team? Is this some kind of bet? Journalism is a serious business buddy. It's not fun and games. You have a responsibility to report the truth to the public."
Oh, okay. I understand. Sorry to have bothered you. I'll go.
He moved to toward the door when he heard her sigh heavily and mutter something about pity and being crazy.
"Wait," she called. "I didn't say no. What English class are you in?"
Um, advanced English Lit.
"John, er, Mr. Steadham's class?"
Yeah.
"Well that's certainly a plus," she said. "Now I know you understand grammar in its purest form."
Mostly.
"I don't even know why I'm considering this," she said shaking her head. "Maybe you just have an honest face or something. That's good. You can use that. If you want a shot at the paper give me two hundred words on Stacy Willis."
Who?
"The girl who tried to kill herself yesterday. Tell me you heard about that."
I did. I just didn't know her name.
"Good. Have it in by three o'clock."
But I thought you're already running a story about her. I saw the headline mock up on the desk over there.
"Yeah. I wrote it. But, I want to see what you can say about it. If it's anywhere near as good as mine. I'll run it and you'll be on the paper. Deadline three o'clock. If it have to tell you what that means, don't even bother writing."
I know what it means.
"Good."
I'll see you at three then, he said moving toward the door.
"Hey wait!" She called after him. "Aren't you going to tell me your name?"
Clark.
"Got a last name Clark?"
Luthor.
"Luth... Oh." Her eyes grew wide with recognition.
Three o'clock, he said. See you then.
"This isn't some kind of big joke is it?"
He stopped dead and turned to face her.
Why would you think that?
"I-I'm sorry," she apologized. "It's just that well..."
The name, he said. I get it.
"I'm really sorry," she said again. "Please don't fire my dad."
Hey, I understand. Believe me I do. But believe me when I say I'm not my father or my brother.
"Okay," she said softly.
He stood watching her fidget nervously. It disgusted him how the simple mention of his name could make someone feel that way. He moved closer to her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. It was the second thing he'd done that morning without knowing why. She smiled faintly as she looked up at him, her eyes...
Those eyes.
He knew those eyes.
Chloe?
"Yeah?"
You're middle name wouldn't be Lois would it?
"Well yeah," she said, blushing slightly. "But how did you..."
Her eyes. He felt like he could lose himself in them. Like he could tell her everything.
Nothing, he said. Just wondering.