Vincent Aza / Pixelator
Nathaniel and his mother were at the lobby of the Hôtel Le Grand Paris.
The artist was earning too little from commissions, so he's decided to intern.
"Do you have any vacant positions, Mr. Bourgeois?", asked Mrs. Kurtzberg.
The Mayor pored over a list again and again. "It doesn't look like it."
"I bet I know who helped Daddy write the list," groaned Nathaniel, glaring at the Mayor.
"But... if your son is really interested in becoming a member of our family, he can help around as a general maid. If he finds a position he likes, we can give him the slot once it becomes available."
"Thanks, sir!"
Suddenly, the door opened.
In walked a tall man with wild hair and clothes, a shorter woman, and a crocodile on a leash.
Nathaniel recognized the man immediately. "Hey, that's-"
But the mayor didn't. In fact, he was appalled by their costumes. "Excuse me, this is a luxury hotel, not a-"
He was interrupted by the crocodile's sudden growl.
Nathaniel leaned up to his ear. "Sir, that's Jagged Stone, the rockstar. He's sold millions of albums, and he's very rich."
Immediately the Mayor's expression changed. "Mr. Stone! Happy to see you. Welcome to the Hôtel Le Grand Paris, the most luxurious establishment in all of Paris. How may we serve you?"
"How'd you think?", asked Jagged in his signature British accent. "I didn't just come here to admire your lobby."
"Jagged would like to check in to your most luxurious suite," said the woman.
"And Fang better get a real baththub," added Jagged, "not a tiny waterhole like the one in the hotel across the street."
"We have everything you need, Ms. Fang," the Mayor told the woman. "Even a state-of-the-art entertainment center!"
"Actually my name's Penny," she replied. "Penny Rolling. I'm Mr. Stone's assistant. Fang is his crocodile."
"Mr. Stone, we have everything you require for your... Fang. Would he, umm... enjoy a bubble bath?"
"Crocodiles don't like bubble baths," replied Jagged. "That dries their scales out!"
A young photographer silently entered the hotel, clutching his camera close to the Jagged logo on his T-shirt.
He tiptoed towards the celebrity, prompting only an annoyed "Oh no, not him again."
When his idol noticed him, he shifted into high gear. "Remember me, Mr. Stone? Vincent Aza! I'm your biggest fan!" He wrapped his arm around the rockstar. "Just one picture to show everyone in the world that we're best buds! Come on, please!"
"I know you, you've been to my last 36 shows," replied Jagged. "But we are not friends!"
But Vincent's camera was ready. "There! Look into the lens!"
"Didn't you hear Mr. Stone?!", Penny shouted, grabbing the camera. "You still haven't got it, haven't you?" She pushed Vincent outside. "No photos!"
She threw the camera at him, which cracked on the ground.
"If I were you, I won't get that repaired. Now don't let me see you near Mr. Stone again!"
Vincent walked down the streets, sad.
The one thing that helped him do what he did best - and potentially bring him closer to his idol - was ruined.
But he knew the sadness wouldn't last long. The repair shop was just a few blocks from here.
Or, on second look, directly to his right.
In a vacant stood lot stood a small, dilapidated shack that he swore wasn't there earlier. The only clue to its identity was a small, partially faded sign that read, in part, "Nous réparons les caméras" - "We repair cameras".
It had a mysterious, sketchy aura to it, but Vincent felt drawn inside.
The inside didn't look like a repair shop at all. With its wooden beams and iron roof, it looked like a canteen in a third-world place.
"Vincent Aza..."
The photographer turned to the counter, where a mysterious old man dressed in a black robe and hat had suddenly appeared.
"Uhh, d-do you repair cameras?", Vincent stuttered.
"Why must I repair that regular little camera when you can use this one?"
The figure produced a strange camera from the depths of his robe. It resembled a GoPro, being blue and cylinder-shaped, with only two small buttons on the side. It was connected to a thick black strip, itself with a blue line in the middle.
"This camera is special," explain the figure. "It's the most HD of all HD cameras. Wear it around your left eye. You'll be amazed by how lifelike your photos will be."
"How much do you want for it?"
"It's all yours."
Vincent grabbed the new camera. "Why, thanks."
Sure enough, he felt no difference in vision quality when he put it on.
And now, time for a photoshoot.
Nathaniel was in Jagged's suite.
He was acting as Jagged's "gopher", doing anything his client wants.
"So, Jagged, is there anything I can bring you?", asked Nathaniel.
"I have a gig tonight, so I need a rock-and-roll pair of shades, please!", replied Jagged.
"Okay. I'll get them as soon as possible."
"Wait!"
Nathaniel stopped in his tracks.
"I want them to be red, white, and blue, and could it have two large Eiffel Towers on it?", asked Jagged.
"I'll see what I can do."
Nathaniel was at the foot of the Eiffel Tower, looking through all the pop-up souvenir shops gathered around the base.
Despite his best efforts, he couldn't find any shades that even remotely resembled Jagged's description.
The closest he could find was a pink pair of glasses with a silhouette of the Tower above the right eye.
But he had to satisfy his client. And to do that, he must get creative.
At home, Nathaniel transformed. "Art on!"
Using his magic tablet pen, he drew over the glasses in real life.
In an instant, they became a pair of shades, having the same tricolor as the French flag. Both lenses were now shaped like the legs of two Eiffel Towers.
He grabbed his tablet, drew his jetpack and blasted away.
Vincent walked up to the hotel's entrance.
"Excuse me sir, can I help you?", asked the doorman.
Vincent said only four words. "Look into the lens..."
The doorman posed in front of the camera. Vincent snapped a photo, making the hotel worker disappear. "Photo finish."
He barged inside, walking in on Chloé giving her best friend, Adrien Agreste, a tour of the hotel.
"Oh, look what the cat dragged in," commented Chloé. "Let me handle this, Adrien. Watch and learn."
She walked up to Vincent. "Excuse me... excuse me! You can't be a guest at this hotel! My father only allows the most important celebrities. Like me!"
Adrien mentally facepalmed.
"Well then, I am Pixelator," replied Vincent. "Your number one fan."
"Moi? Oh, my, you're flattering me. Keep going."
"A photo of you, sweet miss..."
"Chloé, of course."
Just then, Adrien felt something sketchy about Pixelator. "Look out, Chloé!"
He pushed her out of the way, only for both to get hit by a beam of pixels.
Adrien and Chloé founded themselves in a strange place.
Except for them, everything was white. The floor, the walls, and the ceiling were seemingly endless expansions of colorless void.
"What just happened?", asked Chloé, trying to hide her fear.
"I think we've been like... digitized or something," answered Adrien.
"What do you mean, digitized?"
"I don't really know, but I don't think it's a good thing."
"Well, I can fix this. Leave it to me." She called her father. "Daddy?... Daddy?... Daddy?"
Five minutes later, her phone was still ringing. "Ugh! I still can't through to Daddy! How can be no cell reception here? Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!"
"It just goes on forever," observed Adrien, walking around. "No doors, no windows, no nothing..."
"You mean we're stuck here? Just... just the two of us?"
"Uh, no. There's gotta be a way out here somewhere." Adrien noticed Chloé hugging him like a teddy bear. "I hope..."
Super Nathan silently landed on Jagged's balcony, where he detransformed out of sight. "Art off!"
He walked up to Penny, and gave her the shades. "Are these the glasses for Mr. Stone?"
He nodded.
"Thanks. I'll give them to him later."
"Why can't you deliver them now?"
"He's, umm... resting."
"Okay, no problem."
"I hope Jagged Stone likes them," thought Nathaniel.
"Hard work and doing what you love always pays off!", replied Sketch telepathically.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.
Penny answered, allowing Pixelator to come in. "Who are you?"
"Look into the lens!" He pixelated Penny.
Nathaniel suddenly realized the seriousness of the situation. "Looks like that game of Heroes and Villains would have to wait. Art on!"
On the other side of the suite, Jagged was all but resting.
He was on his bed, vigorously scrubbing Fang with a long brush. "Now who likes having his scales scratched? Daddy's little Fang!"
Pixelator walked in on him. "Hey there! Time for your photoshoot."
"How did you get in here?" Jagged was furious. "I don't know of any photoshoots. Fang, attack!"
But all the crocodile did was turn around to have his belly rubbed.
"See you later, alligator." Fang disappeared.
Jagged was sad. "What? Fang! Fang!" He felt the foot of the bed, where the reptile was just seconds earlier, but could only feel the velvet sheets. "Okay, who are you?"
"I am Pixelator, your biggest fan, Mr. Stone. Can I call you Jagged?"
"No!"
"I want to immortalize you, Jagged! I'll be your one and only fan! You will belong to me for eternity! Now, look into the lens."
Pixelator reached for the button, but a move tool hit Jagged and swung him to a safer part of the room.
"So, you're Super Nathan," said Pixelator, noticing the superhero. "I've heard such pathetic things about you. Look into the lens!"
He fired a bunch of pixel beams at the hero, but he skillfully dodged them with his natural flexibility.
Nathan hid behind a column, and drew a china cabinet.
He ran around the room, throwing tableware at Pixelator, but he just dodged them and continued firing beams. In the midst of the commotion, Jagged hid under the cabinet's legs.
Running out of ammo, Nathan hid behind the cabinet and began to draw more porcelain.
Unfortunately, one of his hands was exposed. A pixel beam hit it, making it recoil and drop his pen.
To his utter shock, his right hand - and only his right hand - was pixelated. It felt like pins and needles that never seemed to go away. Trying to pick up his pen, he noticed that it was completely intangible.
Well, at least I'm ambidextrous, he thought.
Using his left hand - which was much harder than that he thought, he drew a rocket-powered flying tandem bike outside the window. It took some effort, but he was able to convince Jagged to blast away with him.
Super Nathan hid Jagged in Mr. Damocles' office.
"I can't stay here," complained the rockstar. "I'm performing tonight!"
"Don't worry, you'll get to do your gig," reassured Nathan. "You'll even get to wear some awesome shades!"
"Huh?"
Nathan chuckled. "Look. While I'm catching this guy, Pixelator, I need you to stay put where no one would think to look for you."
"Super Nathan, is this safe?", asked the principal. "This is a school."
"Yes!", replied Nathan. "Pixelator would never imagine his idol would actually want a day out at school."
"Hmm?"
"I mean, isn't school awesome?"
"This is ridiculous," complained Jagged. "I don't have time for this! First, I get practically hijacked by this crazed fan, next, I'm attacked by some super weirdo, then..."
"Wait," interrupted Nathan. "What do you know about this crazed fan?"
"His name is Vincent Aza. He's come to every one of my shows this year. He's also sent me stacks of letters, gone through my trash... he even followed my mother to her weekly bingo night!"
"How creepy."
"Uh, not really. It's just a bunch of elderly ladies getting together and having fun."
Nathan sat down and placed his tablet on the desk, titling the screen away from his companions. With his only functioning hand, he searched the Internet. "Vincent... Aza. Found his studio!"
With that, he stood up.
"You're not gonna leave me here, are you?", asked Jagged.
"Hmm?", said Mr. Damocles.
"I mean, isn't school awesome?"
Chloé and Adrien were still stuck in the void.
"Daddy! Daddy!", called Chloé.
"I'm gonna see if there's a way out down here," said Adrien. "Don't go anywhere. Could be dangerous."
"Dangerous?"
"You're not scared, are you?"
"Scared, moi? As if! No way!"
Adrien chuckled. He took off in a random direction, leaving his companion behind.
"Ahhhh!" Chloé suddenly jumped on Adrien's back, pointing behind him.
He turned around to see Fang growling at him.
Although it seemed innocuous to him, it traumatized Chloé to the bone. It filled her brain with memories she wanted to suppress - memories of her fifth birthday. André had a crocodile trainer bring one of his pets to the party, and it almost bit her poor face off. To this day she's still thankful that she wasn't hurt - if she's feeling thankful, that is.
But that wasn't what terrified her the most. She was positively haunted by a dance number by Luka Couffaine, who danced strangely for hours alternately to a dance remix of "Happy Birthday" and the Reese's Puffs rap. The latter was inspired by her favorite food at the time; it was the only thing served there. Ironically, she now thinks it's gross.
No matter what she tried, she couldn't shake the mental image of Luka dancing where Fang was.
Super Nathan entered Vincent's studio.
There weren't as much photography equipment as there were photos on the wall. An alarming number of them were of Jagged Stone, taken from unorthodox angles.
Now this is creepy, Nathan thought.
"Ahhhh!"
Shocked, Nathan turned to the other wall, where the photos seemed to be moving.
He paid particular attention to one of Chloé and Adrien.
"Super Nathan?", asked Adrien.
"W- what are you to doing there?", asked Nathan, not knowing what else to say.
"Super Nathan!", shouted Chloé. "Remember me? Your biggest fan? Please, please get us out of here. It's terrible in here!" She noticed Adrien. "I mean, it's only terrible when you're not around."
"Over here, Nathan!"
He turned to a picture of Mireille Caquet and her date, jack-of-all-trades Théo Barbot.
"Help us, Super Nathan!"
"What happened to you?", asked the hero.
"It's terrible," replied Théo. "This man... he took a photo of us... and we ended up trapped in here!"
"We were just strolling the Champs-Élysées!", added Mireille.
At the Champs-Élysées, Pixelator was zapping people when he noticed Nadja Chamack.
"Excuse me, sir," said Nadja. "Care for an interview with the reporter who spreads the villains' voice?"
"Why yes, Nadja," replied Pixelator.
"Great. So, first of all, what are you doing to those poor Parisians?"
"I'm simply taking their photographs."
"But... where did they go?"
"That doesn't matter, Nadja. All that matters is that I get a photo of Jagged Stone. I will continue my shoot until he turns up here in the flesh." He turned to the camera. "Where are you, Jagged? Your biggest fan awaits you! All I want is one photo! Otherwise, the people of Paris will be nothing but memories." He zapped Nadja and the cameraman. "Hahahaha!"
Watching the news from the office, Mr. Damocles and Jagged grew concerned.
"This is terrible!", exclaimed the principal.
"I've got to do what Pixelator says!", announced Jagged.
"Surely, you can't be serious! It's dangerous out there!"
"Who cares about danger? Jagged Stone can't turn down a television appearance! Just imagine what it would do for my career!"
Back at the street, Pixelator was surrounded.
Police cars were parked in a circle around him, making him feel claustrophic.
Officer Roger exited one, trying to reason with the villain, only for him to get zapped.
"Got an itchy trigger finger, eh?", said Super Nathan as he landed in the circle.
"I was expecting you, Super Nathan."
Pixelator resumed firing at the hero, but he still evaded the pixels with the agility of a squirrel.
He hid behind a car, hoping to think of how to defeat the villain without using his hand. Unfortunately, he was spotted. "Look into the lens!"
Deciding that being too close to the villain was too dangerous, he ran to the end of the street, and, with difficulty, climbed a lamp post.
"Pixelator," announced Nathan, "I have a proposition to make! If you free these innocent people, I'll organize a photoshoot with Jagged Stone!"
"Why should I believe you, Super Nathan?"
"Because you have no choice. I'm the only one who knows where Jagged is!"
"How about I free half of them now and the other half after the photoshoot. Deal?"
"'Kay. It's a deal. But first, unpixelize my hand please."
Pixelator tapped a small button behind the shutter button.
Immediately, exactly fifty percent of his prisoners rematerialized in the places they've been abducted, with no memory of the preceding time.
Super Nathan shook his hand. It felt nice to have a working right hand again.
He drew his flying bike and zoomed off.
Five minutes later, he returned with Jagged Stone.
"Hey there, Pixelator," Jagged announced. "I heard you wanted my photo! This time, and only this time, I'll let you take my picture."
"Perfect..." Pixelator snarled. "Look into the lens..."
"Wait, wrong side," the rockstar interrupted, shifting his position. "This isn't my best angle. No, no, wait. The lighting's all wrong. Does my nose look shorter this way? Oh, I know, this is better."
"Ugh... Hurry up already!"
Jagged's constant shifting allowed Nathan to work in the shadows, drawing Jagged's shades on him and replacing Pixelator's camera with a regular digital camera.
"There, I think I'm ready," said Jagged, after who knows how long.
"No more moving. Look into the lens..."
Pixelator's jaw dropped. The photo on his camera was marvelous, with perfect lighting and pose. It was much better than an amateur like him had ever dreamt of clicking. In fact, it looked like the front cover of a magazine.
"Nice shot, eh?", commented Nathan.
"It's the most beautiful picture I've ever seen!", replied Pixelator, fanboying.
"So, Pixelator, do you promise not to stalk Jagged Stone again?"
"Not after taking this photo! And please, call me Vincent."
Later that night, Nathaniel was watching Jagged's concert from this laptop.
"Good evening, Paris!", he greeted, sitting at his piano. "I'd like to dedicate this song to Vincent Aza, my new personal photogtapher, and to Nathaniel Kurtzberg, the designer of these rock-and-roll shades of mine. Go commission him!"
Nathaniel smiled as all his social media handles appeared on the screen.
He never felt more proud in his life.
