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AN: Ok, take back what I said last time. I don't know where I'm going after all. Well, I thought I did, but then ideas started running in different directions, bouncing off the walls of my kitchen, and things got very messy. But! I was able to scribble out this part. Thank goodness for small miracles. But oy, do I need some inspiration. Any ideas? All comments, thoughts, criticisms, etc., welcome!
"Look, I'm not an angel, and I never said I was." I stabbed my spoon into the pint of Ben & Jerry's that had become my lunch, while juggling the receiver of the cordless phone between my ear and my shoulder.
"Don't I know it. But chica, you make a deal with the devil and you have to deal with the consequences." That would be Joseph. Appearance wise he was the complete opposite of me- tall dark, and oh so handsome. "Not what you wanted to hear. But..." No psychic senses there, just the result of knowing me since I moved to New York several years ago.
"But it's true. Joe, do me a favor. Don't remind me." I curled into the corner of the rather large couch. There I was, looking completely out of place in my own studio apartment. Sweatpants and all, I looked as though my boyfriend had run over my favorite puppy, then broke up with me. Truth was I could have dealt with that. But being caught in a trap partly of my own making? Not so much.
"You want me to come over?" His tone was hopeful. My heart fluttered, but I knew better than to accept. He was my non-boyfriend, non-friends with benefits (most of the time, anyway), sympathetic ear of the male persuasion. And I wanted to keep it that way.
"Nah, I know you're probably busy- hey! What are you doing home this late in the morning anyway?" It was a worthy question. Last time I checked he was working full time as a personal trainer at a gym a couple blocks from his place.
"Think you're the only one having job troubles chicky? Mutants aren't the only ones who get fired for no good reason, you know." I bit my tongue. It seemed I had forgotten that life's little injustices struck anyone and everyone.
"Joe darling? What did you do?"
"Man, he totally deserved it." I could almost see him stand up, pace around the room, and pound his fist into his palm.
I shook my head, not that he could see it over the phone. "I'm sure. Spare me the details and better luck next time."
"Some sympathetic friend you are." A grin found it's way back into his voice.
"Almost as sympathetic as you are. You like my bluntness and you know it."
"It's cute. Almost as cute as your a-"
"Hey, I gotta go. Love you Joe." I hung up, heart pounding. It was the third time I'd hung up on him like that in the past month, and he never brought it up. He told me he loved me all the time, but I wasn't sure quite what he meant by it. Sure, it would have been easy enough to pry- just a little- but it didn't feel right with him. If we ever managed any sixth sense type connection ( and we did, quite often actually) it had nothing to do with mutations. But the last thing I needed at the moment were more complications, so I would just leave that as yet another unanswered 'I love you'.
Placing the half empty ice cream carton on the coffee table, I stood up and stretched, walking languidly over to the picture window that overlooked my quaint little block of NYC. It was going to storm. As if the breeze and temperature drop I noticed earlier weren't indication enough, I could see static electricity building in the higher levels of clouds, which had turned a dark ominous grey. As a result, everything seemed more slightly charged than normal. I could see this too.
I suppose I should explain. With completely silver eyes like I have, I don't quite see like most people do. It's close enough, but the simplest way I know how to explain it is to say that I see energy. All kinds of energy. As far as I can tell, all sorts of physical and psychic energy. It can be distracting at times, but I have it under enough control so that most of the time it looks like an overlay on top of how I use to see things before my DNA decided to go and have a field day. There are exceptions of course. The psi abilities? I guess you could call me an empath and a sometimes telepath. There are all sort of other oddities that I supposedly have the potential to develop- but I never have. By choice. I learned enough control to get by, and let and let the finer aspects of my most obvious abilities fall to the wayside. The more physical abilities are now all but dormant. I still have an odd relationship with static electricity. That random bright blue spark that appeared on the other side of the room when I lost my temper? Not me, I swear. Honestly. I'll leave any and all devastating abilities to my on screen persona.
Speaking of which, I knew I was supposed to be getting a script one of these days. As much as the network was looking forward to 'letting me go', they would need me to film the season opener. I mean... you can't just change a character into a shape shifter without showing the original person (aka ME, thankyouverymuch) at least once. I had to weigh my options. I could pull one over on them and refuse to shoot the episode unless they agreed to sign me on for at least five or so more episodes. But knowing them, they'd oust me for attempting to blackmail them, and I'd end up with nothing. How could I be worrying about something that hadn't even happened yet? Damn precog-whateverness. Sometimes ignorance really is bliss. I could say screw all of this and run off and join that Magnethead guy they keep talking about in the news so much. Intriguing as that train of thought was, I might have to give up my creature comforts. Not to mention the little portion of my mind that sang 'can't we all just get along?' whenever I took the time to catch up on mutant affairs outside of the studio. Damn latent righteous moral convictions. They may not apply to my life, but damn it, let there be peas on earth! Or something. Right. So that was a no go. I needed to call Robby and make some real life decisions here. However, agents are nortious for never taking their client's calls. This would probably go double for me, as I had actually seen him just a few hours ago. And effectively dismissed any advice he tried to give me. But at the moment I was in no mood to have a heart to heart with his voice mail. And he'd call me. Eventually. You know, if hell froze over.
Aye dios mio, I wanted my mommy! No, I don't care if I'm 24 years old. Mommy still has the magical ability to make everything better. But in the long run, it would be up to me. You're only a victim if you let yourself be. What would happen if I choose to act before the network did? Would they accuse me of using mutant abilities to save myself from effectively having my feet pulled out from under me? Of course they would.
Running away from all of this was looking better and better every day. All I needed was the word that the network had made the declaration to fire all mutant employees official, and I would tear out of town, never once looking back.