MJ surveyed the space. She had about ten chairs set up and staggered so that everyone could have a good view. There was a chair upfront for herself, but she was too nervous to sit. Instead, she stacked a messy pile of papers on it. MJ checked her watch. Nine forty five. People should start coming in soon.
Someone knocked, and MJ took a breath, wondering if she was ready. She saw the messy stack of papers. She was supposed to organize the sides and the literature.
"Just a minute," she said, forcing herself calm. "Class doesn't start until ten. Gimme five minutes to finish setting up!" She had been out of the acting scene so long, she wondered if she was even qualified to teach.
"Its just me," Wendy said. "I've got a tray of coffee for you."
"Oh, shit, sorry, hang on!" MJ rushed to the door and opened it. "Can't believe I'm letting you into your own place," she said with a laugh.
"Oh please. Right now, this space is all yours."
Wendy had been kind enough to lend MJ her back room for acting classes. It was a good sized space. The walls and floors were painted black, and a low, black riser in the front of the room served as a stage. In the corners were piles of chairs, a couple of cheap studio lights, and an array of worn, mismatched set pieces. Wendy used this space to host open mic nights, poetry readings, and the like at her cafe.
"Thank you for this Wen," MJ said grabbing a small end table. "It helps so much." She set the table down.
"Hey, it helps me too," Wendy said, placing the tray of styrofoam cups and a kettle of hot coffee down. "They'll sample the coffee and will be hooked! And get them nice and hungry so they buy some food on the way out."
"Aye, aye, captain," MJ said with a salute.
"You're too much. Only ten signed up?" Wendy asked, concerned.
"Only eight," MJ sighed. "Then four backed out, and one refused to pay, so I told them no."
"So, three then?"
"Officially. But I never took the flyers down. Maybe more will show up." MJ should have hit the marketing harder. But managing her store, her family, and fighting crime gave her very little time to spare.
A ding sounded. Someone was ready to order. "I gotta go man the counter," Wendy said. "You'll do great! And I'm sure more will trickle in."
"Thanks," MJ said. "I certainly hope so."
Peter dodged a spray of bullets while twisting and turning, webbing bystanders out of harm's way. His Spider-Sense was on full alert, his body instinctively reacting. He could almost go on autopilot.
The car ahead was black and purple and pulling off some impossible maneuvers; dodging other vehicles, skidding by on two wheels, and even taking turns and hitting pieces of the city just right so that it would catapult itself up and over traffic, landing safely, albeit roughly, and speeding away. Only one person could drive like, manipulating any car to his will.
Overdrive, AKA James Beverly, had the ability to upgrade any vehicle with simply his touch.
The cops initially chasing him had fallen behind, but they must have called for back up, as more officers would speed in pursuit. Of course, they couldn't keep up for long.
One of the bullets sliced through Peter's webbing causing him to swing out of control. He shot another strand out, righting himself, and fired web after web, doubling his speed to catch up to the car, his shoulders burning in protest. In line with the passenger window, Peter looked inside, and saw Hammerhead sitting in the passenger seat, with Overdrive focused at the wheel.
Hammerhead smiled, and aimed his gun at Peter. Good. That would give him the range to fire his webbing at the weapon, jamming the gun. They were traveling so fast, Peter decided to overshoot the weapon, hoping Overdrive would drive right into it.
Come on, he told himself, arms blazing. He swung from his right arm, forcing his swing faster with his legs. He aimed with his left hand, trying to find that sweet spot of taking enough time to get the perfect aim, but not enough time to lose his target.
He fired.
He missed. Hammerhead fired back.
MJ had a grand total of four students. Her class was comically small in the large space. The first to show up was Imani. She was a quiet, plus sized girl of 15. Imani was the oldest daughter of Randy and Janice Robertson. Her parents had signed her up for class to help her open up and overcome her shyness. MJ knew she would have to move slowly with Imani. Too much pressure, and this class would be a living hell for her.
Her next student was another young lady. Jessica was a thin, high energy 18 year-old who, upon entering MJ's class, declared her undying love for all things Secret Hospital, the soap MJ used to be in. Then there was Silas Spencer, the only working actor in her class. Silas was 27 years old, athletically built, and seemed to relish in the fact that he was the most experienced student in the class.
And then her fourth and final student was none other than Normie Osborn. He arrived dressed in a suit, an expensive brief case in tow. He sat down and pulled out a legal pad and pen. She gave him a little wave, trying to gage if he recognized her, but he barely gave her a second glance. While Normie knew Spinneret, it had been years since he had last seen her as Mary Jane. He was so young, he probably didn't remember her. She decided she'd touch base with him after class, she didn't want to embarrass him by putting him on the sport.
Silas looked Normie up and down, and smiled easily. "Hey man. You auditioning for a lawyer or something?" His tone was conversational, but MJ could tell when someone was trying to get a scoop on an audition they didn't know about.
Okay, it was now never.
"Good morning every one. Welcome to Screen Acting I. My name is Mary Jane Watson-Parker. I'll be your teacher. The purpose of this class is to lean the basics of acting, with a focus on film and TV. If you are interested in Stage Acting let me know. If the interest is great enough, I can start another class, or we can discuss private lessons. Any questions?"
Imani kept her head down, her long black and blue braids cascading down her shoulders, hiding her face. Jessica made a show of taking off her jacket, exposing her fan-made Secret Hospital T-Shirt. Silas leaned forward, listening intently to her introduction, and Normie sat back, pen in hand ready to take some notes.
Jessica's hand shot up. MJ nodded to her. "So, some of my favorite episodes of Secret Hospital were the ones you were in. I know they were a long time ago thought but it is so cool being in your class. Are we gonna do scenes from SH?" Did this girl just call her old? Really?! "Well," MJ began, pointedly ignoring the long time ago bit, "I've already preselected the scenes we'll be working through. If there is extra time, maybe we can add one." Jessica squealed in excitement.
"I have question," Silas said. "So if I need to miss a class for a job, what is the make up policy? I don't want to miss anything here, but I am not going to turn down a project for this class."
"Well, you are welcome to follow up with me or your peers on the information covered. And if I have some notice, and it works for everyone here, we can always just reschedule the class."
"Cool. Thanks."
"No problem. Any other questions?" She surveyed the room, giving her students the chance to voice their questions, but they sat in silence. "Okay then. Lets start with some introductions, I want to hear your names, what brought you to acting class, and a fun fact about yourself. Then we'll start with some terminology, a warm up, and if you are feeling ready, we can read some sides. Sound like plan?"
Her students nodded.
"Alright, let's get started."
Bang! went Hammerhead's gun.
Peter just barely dodged the bullet, and Hammerhead kept firing, again severing his web. Peter shot his webbing blindly, yanking himself out of the way by the skin of his teeth, and panic swelled at the thought of the bullets hitting another car or an innocent pedestrian. He tried to right himself, but his Spider-Sense screamed and he yanked himself out of the way of an oncoming truck, and right into the path of a speeding sedan. Every time he dodged out of the way of one vehicle, he found himself crashing into the path of another.
His webbing caught the concrete of a corner building, and he yanked himself towards it with a swift tug, narrowly missing cars. Peter braced himself for a rough impact, but was shocked when he hit a springy, sticky surface. A web.
"Spiderling!" he said when his daughter dropped in front of him. She placed her hand on his shoulder, stopping him from bouncing forwards and backwards, the web oscillating with the force of his impact. "What are you doing here?" he asked. She was supposed to be at her bake sale.
"Saving your skin," she sassed as she dug through her pack and pulled out a spray bottle. She sprayed the webbing he was stuck too, causing it to dissolve.
"We need to double back, make sure no one got hit."
"Was on it. Everyone's good. Some property damage, but it could be worse."
"Thanks kid. Nice work. If you hurry, you can still make it to your bake sale. I got it from here."
"No," Annie said, jumping into a swing and heading in the direction of Overdrive and Hammerhead.
"Excuse me?" Peter said, swinging after her. "Might I remind you, you made a commitment."
"Fine. Guess I'm breaking it."
"You can't do that. If you said you'd show up, you need to show up. I can handle this." Peter couldn't believe her. When he was her age, he didn't have anyone to help him out with crime fighting, which caused him to flake out on those closest to him. Peter thought about all of the missed dates, outings, classes, jobs. Hell, maybe if he showed up more consistently, he wouldn't be 47 years old and still trying to get his degree.
Annie was silent but quickened her pace.
"Spiderling? Did you hear me? I can handle this. I know that bake sale was important to you."
"I'm not going."
"You have any idea how that will look?" Peter thought back to all of the disappointment he caused. "And you can't tell your teacher, 'sorry, I was busy crimefighting.' She won't understand, and you will pay the price. And you'll be applying to colleges soon! You need some extracurricular activities. Go back. I got this."
"I don't care about that bake sale. Or what anyone thinks." With that, she shot forward, her web catching the back of Overdrive's car. She pulled herself towards it, crashing through the rear windshield and into the car.
Peter flooded with panic watching his daughter catapult herself into the car filled with superpowered gangsters with big guns. He swallowed his panic and zipped towards the car as it sped onto the on ramp of the highway, landing on the hood and punching in the windshield. His body aches were numbed by sheer adrenaline, his only goal now, getting Annie to safety.
He grabbed the wheel, causing Overdrive to yelp. "Spider-Man!" He cried. "What are you doing?!"
Peter ignored him and saw that his daughter had disarmed Hammerhead. Atta girl.
"Spiderling, hold on!" he said even though he knew her Spider-Sense already clued her in as to what he was about to do. He yanked the wheel sharply to the right, causing the car to crash into the wall of the highway. Peter held onto the wheel, thanking any and every higher power for his super strength, which prevented him from being hurled out of the car and crushed by the impact.
Both Overdrive and Hammerhead ran out of the car.
"Get Overdrive!" Peter yelled. Overdrive, despite his life of crime, was a big fan of Spider-Man, and once had aspirations of becoming a hero himself. But in the process of securing his powers, he got tied up with the mob and has been stuck there ever since. Peter felt Overdrive posed less of a threat to his daughter so he went after Hammerhead himself.
The stocky mobster was dressed in his classic suit. He reached into his jack and pulled out yet another gun. Great. Peter charged him, and got in a few punches, resulting in a ringing clank! as Peter's fist connected with Hammerhead's adamantium skull. His hand burned with the impact, but he kept his punches coming. Hammerhead landed a few blows, and fired his gun, forcing Peter to break his onslaught and dodge out of the way.
Hammerhead used the space between himself and Peter to his advantage. He widened the gap, lowered his square head and ran towards Peter, his intention to push him into traffic with that battering ram of a skull.
Hammerhead sprinted towards him, but before his head could connect, a blur of blue swung in, and intercepted Hammerhead's trajectory, knocking the villain to ground with a thunk! His gun slid out of his grip. Annie grabbed him by the lapel, and punched him right in the face. But the second her punch landed, she yelped, dropping him, and clutched her hand.
Peter charged as Hammerhead grabbed his daughter by the shoulders and head-butted her. Annie fell backwards onto her butt, blood gushing out of her nose, dazed.
Peter grabbed Hammerhead's gun as he charged towards the villain, not even caring as Overdrive, arms bound to his side by Annie's webbing, hopped towards a passing motorcyclist who was slowed by the heavy traffic this fight caused. He kicked the bike down, knocking the rider off, jumped on the bike and let his powers take over. The bike assumed a purple and black color scheme, and the handle bars shifted to accommodate his awkward grip. Still bound by the webbing, Overdrive zoomed off.
But Peter barely gave him a second glance. Hammerhead's gun in hand, he took aim at the villain's head. And fired.
He heard the clank of the bullet crashing into the adamantium. Hammerhead screamed, his hands flying to the bloodied puncture in his forehead. Peter webbed him up, becoming aware of the screams and gasps of the motorists who witnessed the altercation. But he didn't care; he rushed to his daughter.
"Spiderling!" he said, kneeling down to her. Her hands were covering her bloodied nose. Annie groaned, and swayed. "Let me see," he gently guided Annie's hands away from her face. Her nose was definitely broken. "Do you know who you are, where you're at, and what happened?"
"Yeah," she groaned. Annie answered his questions, her voice gravelly.
"Holy shit!" One of the cops said arriving on the scene said. He radioed for an ambulance.
"Spider-Man! You're under arrest for shooting Hammerhead!"
Annie's jaw dropped. "Dad, you didn't!"
"He's fine," Peter said. He knew when Hammerhead first started shooting at him that the gun had regular bullets, meaning the bullet he fired was stopped by his inorganic skull. The worst he would need would be some stitches and some pain pills for a massive headache. The man didn't even lose consciousness and was safely webbed up, cussing up a storm. Now, if the bullets had been adamantium, that would have been a very different story.
Peter then realized his daughter was just head butted by a skull that stopped a bullet.
"Spider-Man, you are under arrest!"
Rolling his eyes Peter stood with his hands up. He kept Annie in his periphery, weighing the risk of having the medical personal arriving here check her out. That would likely require them to remove her mask, which was very risky. Some time ago, there was a serious scandal when a hospital staff leaked information about a hero's secret identity. The end result wasn't pretty.
But, if she had any type of head trauma, that needed to be dealt with immediately. Annie was alert and oriented, which brought some relief.
"Do you need an ambulance now, or can you wait for me to get you to the Avengers?" He whispered as the cop prepared to make the arrest while his partner argued against it.
"I'm fine. I don't need either."
Well, her tone was pretty typical which was a good sign. "Spiderling. Your choices are ambulance now, or Avengers. And please be quick, I am about to get arrested."
Annie sighed. "Okay, fine! The Avengers, but I am seriously okay."
"Avengers it is." And then to the police officers. "So sorry to bail on you on such short notice, but we're gonna have to raincheck, 'mkay!"
Annie groaned. He wasn't sure if it was pain or embarrassment. He grabbed his daughter, who of course protested and insisted she could swing just fin on her own. He ignored her. They arrived at Avenger's Tower a short while later, and were buzzed in. Peter glanced at his phone, eying the app that monitored Annie's blood sugar levels. So far, her numbers looked good, but they were starting to trend low as they often did after some crime fighting. Physical activity could do that. He let the medical personnel know and instructed them thatAnnie had juice and other forms of glucose in her pack, which of course, irritated Annie.
"I got it under control Dad." She said, her tone biting.
Peter wasn't trying to be overbearing, or imply that she didn't have her sugar levels under control. She was only 17, and had just been in a serious fight. It would be easy for anyone to neglect their blood sugar levels. He was just trying to help.
The two hour class flew by.
MJ was able to assess her student's skills during the scene study. Imani kept her script right in front of her face, and all but whispered her lines. Jessica's reading was a ball of chaotic energy with no direction and focus, and Normie read his lines as if he were leading a board meeting.
Silas had the most skill of the group. He read his lines with a cool, easy confidence, very much leaning into the role of the mysterious, handsome stranger. But when she gave him direction, asking for different emotional flavors, he just delivered more of the same.
So, yeah. Her students needed work. But that was were the magic happened.
After class finished, Randy came to pick up Imani. She wanted to go say hi to him, but she was bombarded by Silas and Jessica, apparently ready for after-class questions. She waved to them as they left, and made a point to text him later. Silas went on about his experience and his auditioning schedule and Jessica tried to ask as many Secret Hospital questions as she could. Normie quietly packed his bag, gave a wave and started to head out. Finally, Silas and Jessica stopped talking and left her class. She appreciated their enthusiasm, but dang, she was tired.
MJ cleaned the empty room, which, due to the small class size didn't take long at all. Her stomach growled while working, and she could always use a fresh cup of coffee. She went out to the bakery, and saw Normie at the counter grabbing a drink and a fresh pastry.
"Normie!" She called. "It was really good to see you today!"
"Um, thank you. It was fun." They stepped to the side once he paid allowing for the next customer to order.
"You don't remember me do you," she said.
"I didn't watch Secret Hospital, or much of anything. But you do look familiar, so I'm sure I've seen some of your stuff."
Bless him for humoring her. "No, I used to know your parents. My husband and I used to watch you when you were little."
"Really?"
"Yeah! My cousin Kristy watched you too."
"Oh, cool. Small world. I hope I behaved?" He awkwardly said.
MJ chuckled. "You were great! How's your mom?"
"She's good. Really busy, but doing good. Um, do you know about my dad?"
"Yeah. I do." MJ wasn't sure how to proceed. She didn't want to cause Normie any pain or discomfort, but she didn't want to avoid talking about Harry either. "My husband and I were at his funeral. We were all good friends. I knew your dad back in college."
"Really?"
"Yeah. We had some good times. If you ever have any questions about him or anything. Let me know." She hoped she wasn't overstepping any boundaries. But it was nice to talk about her friend. Especially outside of the superhero context. Towards the end of Harry's life, Peter and MJ talked a lot about Harry. But their conversations were dominated by Harry's role as the Green Goblin, and what to do with him before he got himself or someone else killed. A lot of good those conversations did.
"Okay, sure, that sounds nice." His phone dinged and he glanced at it. "Oh shit," he said, his voice low with concern.
"Is everything okay?" MJ asked.
"Yeah," Normie said. "Just an article. Says Spider-Man is wanted for a brutal attack against mob boss." His voice was conversational, but she could sense the undercurrent of worry.
"Really?" MJ said, trying to sound nonchalant. She pulled out her own phone and saw similar headlines, and then some lamenting the horrible traffic caused by Spider-Man's menacing attack.
"Guy can't catch a break." Normie said. "He and his family risk their lives protecting us, and this is the garbage the Bugle prints?" He then gave her a look of concern, realizing he had said too much. Vigilantism was a divisive topic in the city, with many in support of superheroes and just as many against them.
"I agree with you," MJ said, and he visibly relaxed. "I gotta head out now, appointment." Stay calm, she told herself. She needed to check on Peter and Annie; she needed to know they were okay.
"Oh, sure. But we can talk one day right? About my dad?"
His voice broke, and for a second he was the toddler she held onto as she desperately called for the ambulance that Harry would die in. "Of course," she said, not bothering to hide her grief. "I'll see you later, okay? Take care Normie."
"You too," he said.
She walked out of the cafe, with full intentions of going back and properly thanking Wendy for lending her the space. But she needed to talk to Peter first. Once out of the cafe, she rushed home, phone in hand, willing her family to be okay.