Leo scratched off the next address on his list. His mechanical pencil slit graphite marks that darkened with every stroke. First tranquil, then a frantic scribble that dug into the padded paper underneath. The scratching emanated flecks of heat before the lead snapped off the end and twisted in the air before plummeting on the ground.

The lead bounced on its ends before rattling to a soft roll. It settled underneath the tips of Leo's black penny loafers scuffed up in turnt up gravel and the cracked sidewalk he stood on. In frustration, Leo squeezed his hand around the notebook and scrunched it with the edges of the sharp paper scratching at his palms.

Leo and Robyn had traversed across south central Los Angeles for the past two hours. Despite getting strange looks from the gangbangers and cholos that roamed around with tight bandanas and baggy torn jeans, the two had been left to their own devices walking over the cracked concrete with the battering sun sweltering the air above. Robyn, an eternal smile etched into her face, skipped to every small convenience store and run-down pawn shop that they approached. Leo snuck behind her, his shoulders still trenched downward and his hoodie hiding his head from the rest of the world.

Roaming in and out of different stores and run-down businesses, Leo became more and more discouraged that he would not meet Hawks that day. Perhaps the blog sites that he had seen were wrong about where he would be.

What they had noticed was that every store they went into, the cashiers were always flustered as if they had been in a wrestling match with a bear. After a quick question and showing a picture of the Pro-Hero Leo was looking for, the employee would gasp out and stammer how they had never seen a person and then yell at them to leave. Leo's heart hurt and felt more discouraged with every establishment they visited.

Now, standing by a half-bent stop sign with the shoddy brownstones with twisted crabgrass looming behind them, Leo crossed his arms and leaned back on the aluminum pole. Glancing down at his watch, he saw that the school day was getting close to over and he imagined they would notice his absence by now.

Leo cried out when an elbow jabbed him on the side.

"Where to next, Leo," Robyn chided.

Leo skittered back a step or two. The hyper girl standing at eye height to Leo had been exhausting to be around. Wherever they travelled, she had an energy that made a cloud of sugar rocket her to the next destination. Her bright blue eyes shined with a hint of mischief as if she were in on a secret joke. Bouncing on her tiptoes, Robyn leaned upward towards Leo's flushed face as he backed away from the girl.

"Personal space, please," Leo held his hands up like an old lady being mugged.

Robyn ticked her tongue and flicked away the bang of hair by her left eye. "You're such a fuddy-duddy, Leo. Never had a girl this close to you before?"

Leo grabbed at the neck of his hoodie and pulled it tighter. Of course he had never been by a girl in any meaningful way in his life. However, he shunned that thought and turned back to the pawn shop across the street from them. An old, decrepit building with more bars on the windows than a state prison, the cracks in the glass trailed towards a slanted and blinking neon sign that hissed with the words proclaiming them open. With a sigh, Leo shoved his hands back into his pockets and hunched towards the door.

"This is the last place," Leo said.

Reaching the glass door, Leo pushed it open. As they entered, Leo's nostrils were assaulted with the stench of musky knick-knacks and a rack of dust-coated jackets swaying by a grandfather clock that had a busted front mirror.

Reaching the glass door, Leo pushed it open. As they entered, Leo's nostrils were assaulted with the stench of musky knick-knacks and a rack of dirt-coated jackets swaying by a grandfather clock that had a busted front mirror. Lining the sides of the mold green walls were the senile snow globes that rested dormant, unshaken for ages based off the layers of dust encrusted on the spheres. Leo stopped in front of one in particular. The scene within contained an exact replica of King's Cross Station in London.

As Robyn roamed around the empty room through the queues of clothes and broken VCRs, Leo tapped his finger on top of the small glass dome. The golden exterior brick canvassing upward beyond the glass arches towards the marble clock that pointed at the midnight hour within the dulled frame of the debris obscured frame. Leo rubbed the tip of his index finger, the dust floating away with some of the grey particles building up on the pad of his finger. Scribbling off the fuzz, Leo gazed within at the perfect model and grabbed the globe in his small left hand.

His mind fizzled like the waves of an old television set on a wrong channel, the static breaking over the image of the snow globe and instead returning with a faint image of the real railroad station in London.

It was wintertime, but the grey snow polluted with boot prints and used cigarette butts were shoveled into haphazard banks that cleared the wet cobblestone that led up to the main entrance. Charcoal clouds bore overhead like demons spying on the noon time commuters' day while a saxophonist wailed out some squeaking notes of a holiday jingle. A man dressed in a skin-tight Santa Claus costume with multiple buttons missing rang a bell by a bucket of kindling sticking upward to resemble a tree. Otherwise, business people smoked around the street curb in front of the station on lunch break while the faintest droplets of snow melted on the tips of Leo's wool velvet gloves.

Leo picked at the loose strand on the end of his mitts. These ones had always bothered him, but father was more concerned about image than anything else. If the son of a Pro-Hero like Chronos had been seen in public without the most popular wares, it would be the talk of the tabloids for weeks. Leo paid no mind to it, but he thought if his dad truly cared about image, he should bother to buy him a car soon and do away with any of the public appearances to begin with.

"Excuse me, sir? You have a dollar?"

Leo pulled on the bright blue beanie on his head and faced the saccharine voice. It was a boy just a few inches smaller than her. A faded pink ski jacket swaddled him like a basset to a newborn baby while torn jeans made the boy's knees knock together from the cold that assaulted the spots of bare skin. His bright doe eyes gleamed with an eternal shine even with the only lights on the darkened London sky being the occasional fog lights that zoomed past on the slippery road beside them. The boy's hair brown like strands of wheat, it was mussed up with a thin coating of soot peppering her pale cheeks.

With a tick of his tongue, Leo sneered at the girl. "And why would I have a dollar for you?"

"Well," The boy tapped at her fingertips and avoided Leo's gaze. "Not for me. But if you had any extra change-."

"Does it look like I have only a dollar?" Leo huffed and pulled at his jacket. "Look at my clothes. This watch," Leo flashed the ornate watch latched onto his wrist. "I have a lot more than just one dollar, but none of it is for you. So piss off and find someone else to mooch off of."

"I-It was just a question."

"And I gave you just an answer," Leo said. He crooked his head back towards the train station and bit his bottom lip. These street people were becoming far too bold for even central London. He hoped that they would have been gone by now.

"Do-do you have any change for the train?"

Leo huffed and sneered back at the boy. His eyes narrowed into lasers that decimated the boy's existence right before his eyes. "Didn't I just answer your question?"

"I'm just trying to get home to Manchester," The boy squeaked out like a dying mouse.

"Manchester? That's where I live," Leo said. He crossed his arms and glared down at the boy. "What makes you think I'd want a faggot like you where I live?"

"What? But I'm no-."

"Only fags where anything pink like that," Leo snorted at the boy who sunk further into the thick jacket. "And a poor fag at that. I bet trying to get home is the least of your worries. What is your home anyway? A cardboard box?"

The boy, mortified by this sudden assault, grasped his hands together and spun around like a frightened gazelle. His head hunched over like he was about to vomit, the boy hurried himself away from Leo towards a nearby alleyway. Leo almost chuckled at the way the boy hobbled as if he were shot in the leg with a bullet. He was glad to get some of that frustration of waiting out of his system. It also helped that he could blow off some steam in a safe place away from his father. Both of the men had tempers, and it would help neither of them if one was alway angry with pre-pubescent hormonal energy.

One interesting factoid for Leo was just where the boy was from. Manchester. What was he doing here in London? Why did he come here with no money? Probably involved in drugs, Leo thought to himself as buttoned up the top of his jacket.

"Oi, Leo."

Turning around, a trio of friends rushed over towards him. None of them particularly interesting with boring quirks to boot. In fact, Leo prided himself on being slightly taller than the rest of them with a more powerful, deeper voice.

The friends gathered around and playfully pushed at him. "Where's your dad?" One asked. "I thought he'd be here with the car already."

Leo rolled his eyes. He swore most of his friends were just that for his father. "You and me both. He's always so busy fighting crime and being the number one hero in England."

"Stop bragging, Agravain! You won't be number one forever!"

"Hey, who was that weirdo that you were talking to? We saw you with someone."

Leo braved one last glance behind him. For some reason, he found that his heart twinged for a fleeting second. He would rather not have to face that boy again. It was an odd feeling, his heart skipping a beat and tapping the nerves in his chest to contract in pain. With a quiet wince, he looked back and noticed that no pink jacket was in sight.

The feeling evaporated. Leo grinned back at his friends. "Nobody important."

How wrong he would be.

Blinking away the ghost of a tear, Leo stared at his own sad reflection and returned back to the warm and lead-painted aroma that eviscerated the quiet pawn shop.

Leo took a second and shook the globe in his hand. The flecks of white jumbled and danced within the orb, dotting the facade of the building with a quiet decadence that made it seem as new as the first day he saw it. This time, that twinge he felt in his heart was a full on plunge as if he had dropped out of an airplane into the bright California sky with no parachute. His face downtrodden, he rubbed his fingers on the globe like it was genie that would grant him a desperate wish that he hoped would erase this pain in his chest.

Robyn stood by the cash register. As she had searched high and low in the customer area for any employee that could be hiding, she had noticed no new footsteps behind her. Peering around the corner of a coatrack of fake minks, she spied on Leo staring intently into the snow globe. Not recognizing the building, she assumed it was out of England imagined that Leo could be homesick. Her own thoughts swam back to her family in New York, and she could not help but nod to herself in agreement.

SWAT!

"Agh!"

Both broke out of their reverie and shot glances at each other.

SWAT!

Robyn pulled her stare from Leo towards the entryway next to her. To the right of the cash register was a hallway that led out of the lobby into the back storage rooms. From her perspective, it was a short green hallway with little lighting save for the sunlight that protruded from the windows that were assumed to be within the storage room. Two doors were closed shut along the hallway with a vintage 1950's era electric blue mini fridge humming at the end of the walkway.

The swatting continued.

"Agh!"

SWAT!

"Agh!"

Leo, snow globe still in hand, saddled up to Robyn and hovered just behind the girl in an admitted show of cowardice. The girl clutched her hands together like she was carrying an invisible sword as they creeped forward. Leo peeked his head over her shoulder and brushed away a cobweb that nestled into his hair. He choked out a stammer and tensed up his arms while hiding further behind the girl. He could not help but think about what his younger self would believe about him cowering behind this girl for help. Some hero he was.

Regardless, survival knows no shame, so Leo matched the tiptoes of Robyn as they approached further and further down the hall.

The whips grew louder.

The grunts stronger.

A small creak on the mahogany floorboards. Robyn grit her teeth and leaned forward. The creak stopped.

With a deep breath, she continued. Leo made sure to step around the floorboard.

They approached right to the second door on the left. The portal slightly ajar, Robyn poked her head around the corner of the doorframe and squinted her eyes to see inside. Leo was curious as well and snuck his head towards the crook of Robyn's neck. The girl did not mind his breath tickling her ear as they boy gained purchase and gazed within.

"I don't know anything. Stop it!"

Swat!

The room, quite bare save for the lime-tinted paint chipping off the sheetrock walls, had a rack strewn up with a bar that was overhead a dazed man with a thick yellow jacket and straggly blonde hair. His glassed perched precariously over his sweat-infested nose, the scruff of his chin was dotted with flecks of blood that suggested a few punches to the face. The front of his chest was lacerated with cuts and welts; his tee shirt ripped with a wide enough hole to show the angry flesh pelted with blue bruises and bumps that drained of blood. Bound to two copper wires that ran to the makeshift racks that held him imprisoned, his wings were pinned to his back by ropes of wire that made them immovable. The man leaned forward with his teeth gnashing, his entire body attempting to force the frame of the device he was string to forward. It budged none.

Leo gasped and squeezed a fist. There he was. Hawks. In all of his winged glory.

Being whipped.

By Midnight.

Another slash. Midnight cackled out a laugh as she roiled back her arm and slashed at the chest of the Pro-Hero. Hawks gasped out again at the leather whip stinging through his black tee shirt.

"This could end soon, Keigo," Midnight lay her whip down at her hip wringing her wrist from overuse. "Just admit what you're doing."

With the ghost of a grimace, Hawks forced a smirk on his face as his shoulders slumped over. He looked up with sweat peppering his face and red lashes borne in his pale cheeks. "I don't know. I think I actually like this. You should hit harder."

Smack!

"Agh! I was kidding!"

Midnight shook her head. They had been doing this for over twenty minutes, and her arm was growing tired. "What are you doing with that crazy lady? What is your scheme?"

"I don't know who you're talking about," Hawks said.

From the slit in the door, Robyn gasped when she recognized the lady with the whip. It was the same Japanese Pro-Hero from the pier with the fake bomb.

"I've been tailing you for a month, so I know that you're working on something with that stupid politician."

"We've been planning a surprise party for you," Hawks coughed out a light chuckle. "Happy Birthday."

"Moron," Midnight dropped her whip and smacked Hawks with her left hand. Her own palms stung as spittle flew out of Hawks' mouth. "My birthday is in March."

"That's why it's a surprise," Hawks grumbled out a response. "You wouldn't expect it in September."

Leo had no idea how to process the scene before him. Either Hawks was into some weird adult things, or he was being held captive. Clenching the notebook in his hoodie pocket, he blinked rapidly as Robyn shifted next to him. For some reason, the man was being held captive by this very voluptuous Pro-Hero that continued to attack him. Was Hawks in trouble? Did they need to save him? Perhaps they should call the police.

As Leo had decided to shift his head away and leave, Robyn pulled at his shoulder.

"We can't just leave him there," Robyn whispered with concern wrapping her face.

"But we can't take her on," Leo whispered back. "She's a Pro-Hero."

Hawks' wings twitched at the subtle gust of draft that tickled the tips of his feathers. Sensing another set of people in the room, Hawks looked up and tilted his head towards the side of Midnight. Focusing on the slit in the door, he noticed two bodies that blocked the view out into the hallway. Shorter than most adults, he narrowed his eyes and saw through the shadow. Suddenly, he realized it was that pesky kid that had been following him around throughout the day.

Midnight saw how he had switched his gaze towards the door. She turned towards the doorway. Right before she could see anything, Leo had pulled Robyn away from the edge of the door and behind the portal. With nobody in her view, she faced Hawks.

"Is somebody there?" She asked Hawks.

He shrugged. "Gee, maybe you should find out. Could be the owner of this pawn shop you tied up and stuffed in the broom closet."

Midnight rolled her eyes and stepped over to the door. The floorboards creaking underneath her leather boots, she pushed onto the lime green door. It squeaked open and shuttered on its hinges. The bottom of the frame dug into the wooden floor tracing the dark line in the floor from the many times it had dug into the boards.

She stepped into the hallway. Looking towards the main area of the pawnshop, she saw the dust floating over the shoddy cashier table. The rows of mugs and novelty license plates hung on racks unmoved with a few low-rider cars zooming past the main window. Satisfied with the lack of people interfering, she turned back towards behind her where she expected to see a humming mini-fridge and the cobwebs of brown spiders climbing in the corner.

When she turned, she saw the mini-fridge. It was open. Next to it, there appeared to be two shorter people cowering in the corner.

That was all she could determine before the salsa jar that smashed into her face.

The jar exploded into shards of thick plastic. Zesty sludge replete with chunks of pepper and expired cilantro seeped into Midnight's eyes. She screamed, the impact of the jar bruising her face but the old salsa causing her eyes to sting as if hot smoke from a wildfire had furled into them. Her eyes watered and stung, and she grabbed at them to tear away the spicy liquid. She stumbled backwards and slammed her back into the edge of the doorframe before falling onto her back. A floorboard popped up from the crash of her elbow onto the ground.

Robyn did not know she had such a good throwing arm. With Leo hiding behind her, the girl's arm hung in front of her post-throw at Midnight. She stood for a second and stared at the writhing Midnight, surprised that the hurl of the salsa jar in the old mini-fridge actually worked.

As Midnight screeched in agony at being blinded, Leo sprung around Robyn and rushed into the room. He slammed himself through the door and came up to Hawks. Before admiring the man he had been trying to contact, he reached up for the knots of the rope that held Hawks and began to untie it.

"What?" Hawks gasped out. "Who the hell are you?"

"Mister Hawks," Leo breathed out with the speed of a cheetah as he fumbled with the rope. "I'm such a huge fan and I have a favor to ask you!"

"You're the kid that's been following me," Hawks said as he noticed the girl with him rushing in. Robyn hurried over to the other side of Hawks and began to untie the knot by his left wrist. "Who are you people?"

"I have a favor to ask you!" Leo shouted in Hawks' ear.

"Who are you with?" Hawks growled out. "CIA? NSA? The Pro-Hero Oversight Agency? Who?"

"I don't know who those people are!" Leo shouted.

Just as he got the knot undone, he pulled on the remaining strand. The rope fell off and fluttered to the ground like a thin potato chip. Just as he did so, the door behind him slammed open and smacked the wall next to it. The impact made the door shutter off it's hinges and fall over into a cloud of dust beside the opening. When Leo turned, the hair on the back of his neck shot upward like a fear-stricken cat.

Midnight, her eyes bright red like she had cried a river, gritted her teeth and balled her fists. Her breathing heavy, her shoulder wracked forward like an angry bull with her normally neat hair frazzled behind her.

"You kids," Midnight seethed. "You kids should be in school!"

Midnight charged forward at Leo. On instinct, Leo dived towards his left. Carrying her forward, Midnight's momentum made her miss Leo as she flailed her arms to capture the small boy in her grasp. Instead, she crashed right into the brick wall behind Hawks. Bouncing off the surface, Midnight blinked away the stars the popped into her sight. Swinging towards her right, she dived forward towards Leo.

Falling to the floor, Leo saw he had landed right by Midnight's whip. He snagged the handle and squeezed the thick leather around his small hands. With a heave, he lifted up the thick whip and nearly pulled the muscles in his shoulders as the leather roiled upward. With a quick whip, Leo yelled out and struck the whip forward.

The ends of the whip screamed through the air. The tip reached over towards a charging Midnight.

With a whistling slash, the leather struck and smacked right at Midnight's cheek.

She collapsed to the ground. Midnight clutched her face in pain. Picking herself up, her hands imprinted with the cracks in the wooden floor, she hoisted herself up to full height and clenched her other first.

"I'm gonna get you kids," Midnight shouted.

She rushed at Leo again. With a frightened yelp, Leo slashed the whip again.

It slammed into Midnight's shoulder. The sting rocked her body and rendered her imbalanced. She twirled backwards to stave off the pain before facing back at Leo.

With a brazen sense of confidence, Leo frantically whipped at Midnight further. He stepped forward and shouted out with every attack. Midnight, no predicting the barrage of whips that stripped at her body, slipped backwards in the room to avoid being hit. He charged forward like an expert fencer, his poised stance lunging forward to keep the lady at bay.

With Midnight occupied, Robyn untied the remaining knot. It fell to the ground. Hawks, not anticipating the final drop, face-planted onto the floor in front of him.

The hard impact shook the room. Both Leo and Midnight stopped their battle and looked down at Hawks' unmoving body.

"Mister Hawks!" Leo shouted.

With a grunt, Hawks picked himself up and lifted his torso up over the dust-coated floor. His dazed eyes flickered around the room. First at Leo, then at a flustered Midnight.

The room paused and stared down at Hawks. With a sheepish grin, Hawks noticed an open notepad that rested right by his hands. It must have been the notepad that the kid from that new school was carrying around with him. With the cover open, he saw a list of addresses scribbled on the page. The exact list of addresses that he had visited earlier that day.

On instinct, Hawks took an arm and planted it next to him. He thrusted himself over the floor and slid right at the notepad. Grabbing it in his hand, he pushed the wings on his back and thrust them backwards. With the propulsion, he shot out the empty doorway and sailed around the corner of the hallway. In a flash, the people in the room heard a loud clash followed by raining glass tinkling down from the storefront window Hawks just shoved himself through.

Feeling his pocket, Leo gasped at the handful of fabric that he felt in his hoodie. "That was my notepad! He has it!"

Dropping the whip, he grabbed Robyn by the arm and rushed out of the room. Midnight, shocked by the sudden change of events, rushed forward and grabbed at her whip.

"Where are you kids going?" She screamed as she began to chase them out the room. "Get back here!"

On his sofa, Lloyd read a magazine with a pair of reading glasses dropped onto the bridge of his nose. When he looked up, he noticed the attention and set down the magazine.

"Sorry about that, folks," Lloyd said. "I wasn't sure how get back to you all."

Standing up, Lloyd headed for the fish tank that was placed right next to the box television with rabbit ears on the top of the machine. He grabbed a bottle of fish food and began to sprinkle some of the flakes into the water. An orange goldfish rushed over and began to gulp up the flakes like a vacuum cleaner.

As he fed the fish, Lloyd smiled down at the creature and tapped on the glass with his other hand. "I'm sure you've learned a thing or two about my friend in this time. As it turns out, no human being is perfect. And, on our journey through this world that God has created, we do and say things we really regret. Sometimes, we ask ourselves how we could be so hurtful to others. How we could be so forgetful that others have travelled long and far to be in our presence. Some longer than others."

Lloyd set down the bottle and stared down at the aquarium. It was basically just a bowl with a small castle structure. The goldfish zipped though the water and sucked up the remaining particles of food. His eyes followed the fish through its pattern, completely haphazard and random in every way to capture any bits it could ingest.

"A lot of times, in life, our purpose is no more complex than that of my goldfish here," Lloyd gestured down to his fish. "His name is Larry. And Larry loves to swim around by himself and see all of the pretty colors he finds around the room. Sometimes, I give him food so he can swim even more and he can feel better throughout his day. Otherwise, he just zips around in the water. Only he knows why he does it."

Lloyd kneeled down and came eye level to the fish bowl. "I guess our lives are a bit of the same thing. We zip around this way and that. We feel stressed out sometimes. We feel sad sometimes. We often forget why we are even doing this thing right now. Life. Why you are here. Sometimes, we need to remind ourselves that it's okay to just swim around. It's okay to just gulp at the fish flakes. It's okay to be alone."

Lloyd raised himself back up and looked right at the audience, a sad smile on his face. "My friend, Leo, said and did some pretty awful things to somebody once. That's one of the reasons he feels so sad. When you feel regret, boys and girls, you feel that sad and it can make you so sad you feel like you can't breath. I've felt that way a lot in life. It's one of the worst feelings, because very rarely can you undo what you did or didn't do. But know that there's always a way to make things better. There's always a way you can redeem yourself."

With a sift sigh, Lloyd lowered himself back onto the couch. "Sometimes people get mad, and they do things really bad. But the very same people who are mad sometimes, are the very same people who are glad sometimes."

A knock on the door.

Lloyd perked up like an excited dog. "It sounds like somebody is at my door?"

Leaping to his feet, Lloyd rushed over tot the front door. Putting his hands around the spindly golden handle, he yanked it open. In barreled a black-haired man wearing a tight mailman uniform and denim blue ball cap. In his hands were a stack of magazines.

"Speedy delivery, moron," James grunted with daggers shooting from his eyes to the audience.

"It's our good friend, the mailman!" Lloyd clapped James on the back. The boy tensed up and seethed from behind his clenched teeth. His arms shook with rage as he stretched his leg out to bring back circulation from the tight fabric clinging to his body.

"I only promised a cameo for two minutes!" James grunted out. "Hurry up!"

Ignoring the command, Lloyd slipped off the first magazine on the pile and flipped through the pages. "And what would this be, Mister Mailman?"

"It's a magazine, you moron!"

Lloyd's eyes lit up and he faced the audience. "Magazines are very important for spreading information. It's like using the internet except there's no comment section. Now, boys and girls, if you ever see a comment section on the internet, make sure you look away very quickly unless you have your parents permission."

"Permission? I'm sixteen! I can read the comment section if I want to!" James shouted.

Flicking through the pages with his thumb, Lloyd smacked it shut and turned to James. "And what kind of magazine is this, Mister Mailman?"

James blew out a deep breath. "It's a cooking magazine, you manatee."

"And what does this cooking magazine teach us?"

"It's on the fu...freaking cover!"

Lloyd showed off the cover of the cooking magazine. The title of the magazine, simply labelled Cooking, was emblazoned in white letters on the top with a simple picture of a steaming hot dog underneath. Next to the hot dog were some smaller headlines:

What will you do about Shoto, Katsu?

Why James Guzman didn't save me.

Who is Alistair Leonhardt? Hottest Teen Demon Alive? More details inside!

Seven Deadly Sins: How not to dress for winter

Blake Marseilles: America's Next Top Villain.

Election Predictions: Why Pro-Heroes already lost.

Why did you kill me, Leo?

Ignoring the scandalous bylines, Lloyd tapped on the front image of a hot dog. "This magazine tells you how you can make a hot dog. Mister Mailman, how about we teach our audience today how we make a hot dog by reading this magazine."

James ground his teeth and dropped the pile of magazines onto the ground. "And what am I supposed to do? Say no? No, I don't wanna teach any stupid kids about how to make a hot dog! How would you not know how to make a hot dog anyway? It's easy! You just have to-."

Anton ripped open the plastic package on the top of the ziplock bag. He was feeling especially hungry that day after skipping lunch. Rummaging through the fridge in the basement kitchen of the dorms. The press were still going through the rooms of the new dorm, and he had no interest in being caught on camera as part of a campaign prop. The rest of classes for the day had been ended as the fake and plastic old lady toured the school, but Anton had decided he would rather be away from everyone else.

You need to do a better job at making friends. You've hardly met anyone since you've been here.

"I've met more than enough people in this class," Anton grumbled while he turned the faucet on the pristine marble sink.

Cool water gushed out into the stainless steel red sauce pan. The soft foam from the water bubbled up and popped as the hiss muffled into a flow of liquid that reached near the top. Once it reached the precipice, Anton turned the nozzle, squeezing off the water with a few drops dripping to the bottom of the marble. Anton carried the heavy pot towards the gas-powered stove, a few crumbs from the bag of chips Anton ate earlier littering the heated parts of the appliance.

Why haven't you texted Robyn today? I read you need to text a girl five times a day so she'll get interested in you.

Anton flicked on the stove top. The orange circle emanated underneath the pot as Anton slipped in the hot dogs. The naked franks plopped into the pot and sunk down to the bottom in a heap of processed goodness.

"Pathogen," Anton stared down at the pot as it already started to form bubbles around the edges of the water's surface. "Robyn doesn't like me. She's just curious."

Curious is good! I've met quite a few cyanobacterium that were curious.

"And how did that work out?"

I ate them. But we had a good time otherwise.

After boiling the hot dogs in the pot, Anton grabbed a pair of silver tongs from the cutlery rack by a tower of paper towels. Closing the tongs over the processed meat, he squeezed to keep it in the metal's grasp. Pulling a hot dog bun from the open plastic bag next to the stove, Anton opened the bun with his other hand. Gingerly, with the precision of a surgeon connecting arteries to a heart, he lowered the meat into the bun.

Throwing the tongs to the side, he carried the bun that was warmed from the steaming hot dog towards the refrigerator. Opening the door, the cool air rushed through Anton's greasy black hair. Blinking his eyes from the rush of polar wind, he reached with his free hand at the bottle of ketchup. Standing up in front of the fridge, he flicked open the top with his thumb. Dried ketchup on the rim of the opening, Anton flipped the bottle upside down and squeezed. The cold tomato-based sauce squirted onto the hot dog with a big pool at the end of the meat. Anton kept the squeeze and traced it down the face of the frank.

Reaching the end of the hot dog, he closed the bottled and threw it into the fridge without a care. He kicked the door closed and headed out of the room towards a set of stairs leading upward.

Why do you always just use ketchup? What a lameo!

"I like tomatoes, Pathogen. You should know that."

You filthy Italians. Always butchering hot dogs.

Anton ignored Pathogen and took a bite out of the hot dog. He hurried up the stairs towards his dorm area. He had heard that Linda and her press cronies would be done with the room tours very soon, and he hoped they had skipped over his room since he was not there.

Why are you always so camera shy? If you wanna be a hero, you gotta get it on with the press!

"I don't like camera flashes," Anton said with his mouth muffled from hot dog. He trudged up the steel steps, the white bricks of the narrow stairway causing his vision to nearly be blinded from that mixed with the bright fluorescent light above.

Hey, we should start thinking of allies for this sports festival thing coming up.

Anton swallowed and took another bite, already nearly a third of the way through the hot dog. His thighs already burned going up the steep staircase, and the tight black dress pants hugging his thin legs had licks of sweat chafing at them.

"I don't wanna work with anyone," Anton said.

But you should. Plus, you wanna get a good internship when winter break comes. Otherwise, you'll be stuck in some D-List hero agency in Milwaukee.

"Milwaukee needs heroes, too," Anton said as he reached the plateau of the second floor. He pushed the metal bar and swung open the heavy door.

It was Katsu's room that the crowd was looking in. Linda, as plastic and fake looking as ever, raised open her arms to appear jovial and cackled out another laugh.

"This is such a beautiful room," she said. "How did you make it like this?"

Katsu leaned with his arms crossed on the mahogany dresser to the right of the room. A fake plastic fern sat in the other corner of the room next to a low desk that sat just inches above a brown futon. Yellow padding bunched up underneath his feet with sliding doors leading out to a balcony obscured by translucent stained grey glass.

"It's just like the room my mentor, Shoto, had in his school time," Katsu gestured at the room. "I just moved in a day or two ago, and I was able to finish this in about an hour! What do you all think? Pretty amazing, right?"

Linda, who personally thought the room was modest and stuffy, nodded her head. She reached down and patted Katsu on the head. "So great, Cotsuh!" She mispronounced.

Katsu, not one to like being belittled, twitched at the feel of the woman's clammy and sweat-coated hands polluting his beautiful chestnut hair. He brushed away from the touch and pushed his back to the dresser. "Uh...sure. Thanks," he said in an attempt to be diplomatic.

Linda turned back to the cameras. "And how great that we can have a school with so much diversity! White people! Black People! Hispanics! Chinese! We welcome all kinds of people in this state!"

Katsu glared over at Linda. "But I'm not Chinese. I'm from Japa-."

"Diversity is what makes this state and country so great," Linda lectured to the cameras as she adjusted the collar of her pantsuit. "It was on the backs of so many hard-working immigrants that this country was created on, and I promise that this work will continue into the future. Whether it's the hard work of asian immigrants on the railroads in the Wild West," Linda gestured at Katsu. "All the way to the hard-working Mexicans that make up so much of our labor force in California," Linda pointed over at James in the doorway.

The angry boy, with a bandage taped on his cheek, seethed with his cheeks blushing red. "I'm Cuban, not Mexican you dumb fu-."

"I think," Deku slapped his hand onto the top of James's head. "It's time we move to the last room."

The last room was next door. Of course, it was Lloyd's room. The boy was already chiding the entire group to follow him as they started to tour the entire square space that would showcase most of his personality. He ushered everybody towards the doorway which was about twenty feet away.

"Right this way, Ladies and Gentleman," Lloyd announced. "First, I'd like you to notice the small maple sapling right by my Canadian flag. That, of course, is no accident. Next to it, you will notice a picture of..."

Katsu closed the door behind him. Noticing a storage closet between his and Lloyd's room, he grinned when he noticed a certain girl with long dark brown hair and thigh-high stockings that rode right to the edges of her lavender skirt. The rest of the group were distracted by the door just feet to the right, where Lloyd was announcing to the cameras his room reveal like he was giving an important speech.

Creeping behind like a shark, he rushed over and grabbed Moxie by the wrist. Before the girl could gasp out, he turned the handle on the storage closet and threw it open. Pulling Moxie inside, Katsu closed the door with only the thin slits in the door flashing light within the room.

Pushing her back onto the rack of bleach and oven cleaner, Moxie grasped at her chest and let out a tight squeak. "Katsu! What are you do-."

"Come on, Moxie," Katsu said. "You can't tell me you weren't bored by that whole room tour."

Calming down, Moxie let out a deep breath with a soft smile simmering on her face. She looked down and twirled at a strand of hair when she realized the cramped space left little room between her and Katsu. "Well, I kinda liked seeing your room alright. Very Japanese. Other than that, it was pretty boring."

Katsu chuckled. "Well, Moxie, I guess I saved you from being bored to death."

Moxie felt a giggle bubble in her throat. "You're right. I should be thanking you."

"Well, you could thank me at the Sports Festival coming up," Katsu said. "Have you thought much about it?"

Moxie blinked and slid her tiptoes inward. "I'm not really the most competitive girl. I mean, I'm really competitive when it comes to the Annual Chalmette Chili Cook Off. I've won it twice since I started. Oh," Moxie looked back up at Katsu. "I also am really good at fishing. For some reason, the don't bite at my daddy's bait, but they do for me. I have the record for the largest carp caught in the entire county. Also, I-."

"Moxie," Katsu leaned forward just ever-so-slightly. "The Sports Festival. You and I. Let's team up."

Moxie felt her heart beat just an inch harder in her chest. Her blood warmed around her body as she felt the heat in the stuffy room enrapture her. "Team up? Whaddya mean?"

"You know," Katsu leaned a little closer. "Team up. Our quirks work well together. I absorb energy. You enhance it."

"Right, but it's not just energy. The natural state of things. I've made lobster grow five times bigger before roasting it over a spitfire."

Katsu chuckled. "So, you're saying you could make me five times taller? Stronger? More muscular?" He finished in a deeper, darker voice like hot chocolate.

Moxie giggled again. "You're already so strong. Any stronger and you'll get to big for your head."

"Nothing wrong with that," Katsu smirked at her. "Besides, when I win, I get my pick of where I'll do my internship. And maybe I could get you to come with me if we finish well enough."

"But Katsu," Moxie tilted her head just slightly to the right. "What if I win? What will you do?"

"Celebrate with you, I guess?" Katsu scooted over towards the girl. Their noses were just a hair's length away from touching. "We'd make a great team."

"Sounds good to me," Moxie said. "Allies in the Sports Festival. But don't feel bad if I beat you at something."

Sharing another laugh, Moxie looked deep into Katsu's eyes. They were beautiful, a honey-tinged amber that reminded her of the darkest chocolate. His wavy chestnut hair draped over his face. His smile seemed to drop off for just a second as his gaze was glued to Moxie's. With a curious blink, Katus furrowed his eyebrows and angled his head just towards the side.

Reaching one of his warm hands towards Moxie's neck, Katsu rested it in the crook as he leaned forward. Moxie lidded her eyes, her heart smacking into her chest like a wrecking ball. Her limbs were jelly, and her breathing labored like leaking water through a dam. She could smell the cologne off of Katsu's collarbone, a spicy peppermint that soothed her lungs. They both leaned closer towards each other, their lips just inches apart and the ghost of each other's breath warming the other's face.

Before Moxie could even fathom that she was about to have her first kiss, a face popped right up from the floor.

"Moxie!"

Moxie shrieked at the sight of Alistair suddenly appearing right next to her, lifting himself through he floor like the fiendish ghost he was. Shooting right up to her feet, Moxie lost balance and fell to her side. Her back hooked the handle and pulled it downward which made the door ajar. Nothing holding it back, the door flung open and Moxie tumbled out.

The world slowed into a silent, tragic montage.

As the group leaving Lloyd's room had decided to walk that way, Moxie popped out right beside Austin. She slammed into the tall boy, her arms flailing and knocking off the glasses on his nose. Austin grunted out with his eyes watering from the bop his nose took from Moxie's fist. Austin ricocheted into the wall and bounced off it, losing his balance and tumbling to the ground.

Right in front of the doorway to the staircase.

Throwing himself into the narrow hallway of the boy's dorm, Anton sighed as he saw the gaggle of press and students by the doorway closest to the front door. Hoping they were almost done, Anton shuffled his feet towards the group. They all stared it seemed right at him, and the cameras flashed white and shuttered like machine guns pointed at the green boy.

As Austin fell, Anton stood with the hot dog still in his hand.

He was, of course, surprised to see the gaggle of reporters and students heading towards him. He was even more surprised at the tall man that fell and crashed right at his feet.

Then, the sting.

Anton winced and looked down at the source of the cuts.

From Austin's fall, his forearms slid forward with the thorns of his neurotoxins slashing right at Anton's ankle.

Immediately, Anton felt the energy seep away from his body. Like it was lulled into a deep sleep, Anton's muscles failed and he was tossed forward by some invisible force. Like a building set for demolition. He toppled over with his arms using their last bit of strength to thrust forward and catch himself.

His hands let go of all grip. The hot dog sailed out of his hand and flew through the sky.

As he fell down, his eyes were the only thing he could control. Before he face-planted, he saw the people disappear over his gaze as the earth began to fill with the hard carpet that he was about to smack into and break his nose on.

As he fell, he lamented how things had gotten so bad, and how things would get so much worse.

From the edge of his eyes, the hot dog leaking ketchup tumbled through the air.

Right into the face of Linda.